The Isle of The Lost (Dead)

[leavethemtorot]

This is the official page for The Isle of the Lost (Dead)

Not everything is as it seems on the Isle, there are many secrets lurking under the surface, waiting to be seen.

Links and Masterposts to be updated as need

AO3

Gang Masterpost

VK Masterpost

[leavethemtorot]

i've crossed the county line, (i cannot go back)

A new fic? For the first time in over a year? It's more likely than you think. Hope yall like it

Trees, as far as his eyes can see. They blur past and he knows he should take it all in as it will be the last time he's in these woods, in his homeland, for months (maybe years), but all Doug can focus on are the words his uncles had thrown at him hours earlier. The vitriol was nothing new, it's existed since he was called gifted as a child, since Snow visited and told him he was chosen to attend Auradon Prep. Yet something within him kept coming back, kept trying to win their love back.

Checking his phone once again to make sure his flights had actually been changed to leave tonight instead of the original time of in three days, Derek's last message stared back at him. An apology, a plea for understanding, an ask to keep contact with him at the bare minimum. His older brother was always the peacemaker, the last person alive that believed in him, that wanted him to be bigger than just another miner in a family full of them. The only reason he kept coming back again and again.

It was sheer habit that had him switching over to his uncle Doc's last message, ' I'm so proud of you and all the hard work you have done to get where you are. You will always have me in your corner, kid. ' Sent two years, seven months, and 12 days ago. Just a few hours before a mine shaft collapse took him, his dad, and nine other miners lives. It was sheer willpower that kept him from opening up the last photo of his family alive and complete, taken 8 years ago, before Mom got sick, before Dad started drinking, before the accident that took everything from them. Doug couldn't afford to start crying now, in the backseat of a taxi, just minutes away from arriving at the airport that will take him back to the politics of high society that still feel foreign despite playing their games for three almost four years now.

The trees open up, cut down and removed in order to create an alien lanscape filled with slabs of concrete and an airport made from steel and glass, shiny and new unlike anything else in the small town where he grew up. It's time for him to leave once again. To abandon to land that bore and raised him for the glittering gleaming halls of Auradon. To scrub the ever lingering coal dust that find their way under his fingernails despite never entering the mines himself. To make himself pretty, and clean, and without rough edges in order to fit into a society that would rather not see him or recognise that they live off of the labor his family and so many others suffer and die doing.

The taxi rolls to a stop. He takes a breath, steels himself, steps out like he has done so many times before, and Doug, unlike all those times before, doesn't look back. And although the feeling is familar, he doesn't look scared of what is to come.

[leavethemtorot]

"Have you ever considered your actions have consequences?"

"Oh loads, but I think that's part of the fun."

[leavethemtorot]

"Do you think they will notice? Do you think he will care?"

"I think he lost the right to have any say of what you do years ago. And they might, but he can do his job for once and take of them."

[leavethemtorot]

and you'd say you love me and look in my eyes (but i know through mine you were looking in yours)

Heehee, I wrote this entirely at work

Prince Chad Charming seemed to have it all. He was rich, heir to one of the richest and most powerful kingdoms in Auradon. He was handsome, the public falling over themselves to be in his company. He was on top of the world.

Then he was dead.

It was a tragedy. The crown prince of Sardinia dead at age 21. One couldn't look anywhere without seeing the news.

Prince Charming Drowned in a Tragic Accident

Crown Prince Dead at 21

Tragedy in Sardinia, Prince Chad Dead

Chad Charming Passed, Tragic Fall or Drunken Accident?

Floozy Prince Drowned in Pool

The funeral was massive, as expected of a crown prince. The guest list stacked with royals doing their due diligence and the well to do showing face for the sake of doing so.

Well wishes fell flat on the family. On poor little nine year old Chole who hadn't spoken a word since the accident. On Queen Ella and King Christopher who hadn't seen their son in two and four years respectively.

There were many who mourned him. Mourn the boy he once was. The king he would never be. Few mourned who he had actually been when he died, just memories of years past and the ideas of what he might have been. Those who did mourn him as he was mourned the dutiful and doting older brother, the cousin who had extended an olive branch and let all interactions happen at their pace not his, the prince who had pushed some of the most social reforms in all of the kingdoms in Auradon.

Those memories were few and far between. The public quick to forget his good and focus on his many scandals. Soon his good deeds would all be forgotten and all he would be known as was the floozy prince who died young.

And the wounds that had been inflicted upon him once upon a time would turn and fester in others. In a king, whose last words to him were of malice and distrust, severing a decade old friendship for once and for all. In a princess, who had taken advantage of him over and over again before finally asking him to leave her alone. In a childhood friend, who had rebuked all his attempts at reconciliation.

The truth of Prince Chadwick James will die with him. Knowledge of his anxiety and self-loathing will die with him. Knowledge of the many scrapped apologies in his notes app will die with him. Knowledge of just how much he loved those who hurt him will die with him. Knowledge of just how much he regretted everything will die with him.

Prince Chadwick Geoffrey Theodore Nikolai Denzil Anastasius William François Reginald Leopold Hamnet James had what the world wanted.

Then he was dead.

[leavethemtorot]

my life's supposed to be a party (do you ever think about me?)

Hiya! It's been a moment. Anyways, thank Brat for this fic

It was dark. Strobe lights and glitter help the colored lighting appear even more hypnotizing, helping her look hypnotizing. 

Black and white hair loose around shoulders, glitter painted on collarbones, neckline dipping lower and lower. Her red lips pressed against his before dropping, nipping his jaw, then his neck. Her hands reached around his shoulders and into his hair. 

Ivy was an addiction. There was no other way to describe her, to describe what happened between them. Again and again he fell into her bed or her into his. Again and again he hated himself for it.

Yet.

“Shall we go back to my place?”

✧

Chad laid panting, muscles sore but in the best way possible. Ivy laid next to him just as worn out. That was one of the benefits of this arrangement, the sex was so fucking good. Another was that she ignored when he moaned another name as long as he did the same for her. What they had was messy and so fucking bad for the both of them and Chad always regretted it in the morning.

He also always came crawling back. At least there was a little comfort in the fact that she did the same. That he wasn’t alone in the desire.

Chad looked towards her, stared at her. Her smudged makeup and her little satisfied smile, her heaving exposed chest, the bruises blooming along on her skin. Ivy was nothing but a vision and as they creeped back into his mind, he pressed forward to make her his again.

He would never have them. At least never like this. But he could have Ivy. 

And when he hated and regretted it in the morning, he would remember these moments, remember exactly why he did it to begin with.

[leavethemtorot]

fast and free (then it's quiet again)

Dizzy wrote this herself, she took complete control. I didn't even know it was gonna be about her.

There was a blessing in the rain. It cleansed everything. Washed the sins away. Washed everything away.

Dizzy sat on the porch. Her hair was frizzed like no other but the storm had been doing that for days. A soft smile graced her lips, she knew that Celia would be demanding her attention again soon but for now it was just her, the wind, and the rain. Her shelter. Her holy place.

Auradon had changed so much for all of them, her siblings, her friends, even her enemies. They got support, real food that wouldn’t make you sick, clothing that wasn’t threadbare and needed to be constantly patched. They got a chance. But the favorite thing that changed for Dizzy was the storms.

Storms on the Isle were horrible little things. They flooded everything, destroyed stores and houses, completely rotted any food that had even a chance of being edible. But here? In Auradon? They were beautiful. Sure, they could still be destructive, hurricanes didn’t just affect the Isle, but Auradon had protocols and plans so that people wouldn't get hurt and that they could save what's most important. It allowed her to really enjoy it all.

Dizzy always tried to spend as much of summer break with Celia, mainly because that was her best friend and spending 3 months with her family can truly be a nightmare, but also because summer brought storms to the bayou. They were never there for the later of the storm season, when it was most likely to bring hurricanes and destruction. Yet. Everyone could see that Dizzy was at home in the heat and humidity, in the sticky downpours, hell even the fashion seemed to fit her perfectly. Summers with Celia, with the Bayou, were her favorite part of the year.

“Rain watching again?”

Dizzy turned.

There was Celia, looking at her through the screen door.

“Always. Wanna sit?”

“Always.”

And so there they sat, on the porch steps of a house the two only lived in for a few months out of the year. Dizzy knew Celia didn’t quite get her love of it all, but she didn’t ask. Didn’t question. Just sat and watched with her.

It was her favorite thing in Auradon.

[leavethemtorot]

"Sunflower, what's wrong?"

"Gloria hasn't been seen in three weeks."

"Fuck, Gin."

"Can try and save everyone else but can't even save my fucking sisters. How useless."

"Ginny. Hand me the bag. Better yet, hand me the bag and the bottle."

[leavethemtorot]

"What's the point, Tony? We were born on a, a fucking prison! They aren't gonna give a shit if we live or die. Just let me be happy until I die."

"That's not happiness, Ginny and you know that."

"Anything that allows me to forget my mother is as good as happiness in my books."

"Gin..."

"What Tony? What? Forget that you aren't the only one with a shitty home life?"

"Stay with me. Your mother's disappeared again and Mars has the clinic under control for tonight. Just stay."

"Okay."

[leavethemtorot]

"Sunflower, what's wrong?"

"Gloria hasn't been seen in three weeks."

"Fuck, Gin."

"Can try and save everyone else but can't even save my fucking sisters. How useless."

"Ginny. Hand me the bag. Better yet, hand me the bag and the bottle."

[leavethemtorot]

Gloria isn't sure what to think of this place. They say she's okay. That she is in control of her own body. That she can choose who comes near her, who can talk to her, who can touch her.

She altered the ends of her hair late one night. Found a color she had seen the King put on their hair and carefully put it on the ends of hers. She panicked and ran back to the room they said was hers when she heard a slight noise.

Where was Gabriella and Gisela? She wanted her sisters. It's all too new, where are her sisters? She wants her sisters

[leavethemtorot]

Ginny was Mother's favorite. The only one who couldn't completely leave. It was only with alcohol on her lips and powder on her nose that she can deal with the cuts on her arms and voice in her head

[leavethemtorot]

The Gothel Sisters ?

Ginny Gothel, 17

Gabriella Gothel, 16

Gloria Gothel, 16

Gisela Gothel, 8

Gaia Gothel, 7

[leavethemtorot]

you can forget about all the the things you've done (but what about the rest of us?)

Once again talking about cannibalism. A lot of research went into this so I hope yall enjoy

Warnings: Mentions of Cannibalism, uses of bone

Rosie sat there, baskets by her side and fingers braiding rope. Yet even as her body stayed busy, her mind wandered. Thinking of the beans and potatoes that were ready to harvest, of the clothing that needed to be dyed and mended, of all the things that needed to be finished before the chill settled in and began killing the plants. She would have to go help shortly, but until the trades happened she could sit here, braid, and think.

A branch snapped.

The song on her lips that she had barely been aware of suddenly stopped. As she looked up at the potential threat, she smiled. It was only Gene.

“Good morning, Gene. You’re early for once. Maeve hasn’t even come by yet.”

“Hey Rosie, wasn’t expecting you today. Where’s Sarah or David?”

“Resting. It’s going to be one of the last warm days, so there is much to do. I’m turning nine soon which means I must pull my weight.”

She picked up one of the baskets, motioning for Gene to sit before going through what was in the basket. Rope, potatoes, garlic, onions, mushrooms, a few pieces of mended clothing, mushrooms, and a rare jar of pickles. All spread across 3 baskets just for Gene.

“The information and equipment you dropped off was so helpful, David wanted to make sure you got a bit more this time. No blankets or mats are finished yet, maybe in a week or two?”

Gene blinked, shocked by the surprising amount of crops the group was giving up. The cannibals were typically far more stingy with their food, only giving rope, some blankets, and dye in excess. They must’ve really been able to get supplies with the knowledge of the barge shift. 

“I- Thank you Rosie. And pass my thanks to Sarah and David as well. Here.”

She handed over the two baskets he had been carrying. Inside was scraps and coils of hair, paper, bandages, a few pieces of glass, and the hard earned treasure of 3 medical needles. It always paid off to treat the clan well. They had somehow figured out how to grow a few crops despite only rotten food coming onto the Isle and the barren dirt preventing everyone else from growing. Oh sure the Mims had figured out some things, but mainly used them for their drug supply.

There’s a few members who ze had always been glad weren’t deemed as traders or negotiators. Rosie’s father for instance, the Horned King still had a reputation from his actions when the Isle had first formed. People still have the scars and memories of the lives lost. But Rosie? She has only been nice and actually has a head for negotiations. It’s such a shame that unless she leaves she will never realize her full potential.

Rosie’s eyes widened as she suddenly reached into her skirt, pulling out a beautifully carved knife.

“Oh, I almost forgot. This is for you.”

Gene swallowed before plastering on a smile and grabbing the bone dagger. It was long with a heavy point and clearly well crafted, but there was no doubt in cos’s mind that it was made from human bone. It knew distantly that bone made several tools, that they would be sustainable for the group, and when broken could be used for other tools. Ae had even used a bone tool with sie’s father, but that had been animal bone, not- not human.

“Thank you.” The slight hesitation and uneasiness wasn’t entirely missed by the young girl, but she persisted nevertheless.

“You make sure to take care of us, you deserve to be protected.”

She smiled at the other before her head shot in a different direction. The faint sound of someone approaching, someone or something heavy.

“You best be on your way, Maeve approaches. You have tried so hard to not be seen and it wouldn't be prudent to be caught now.”

Gene nodded before standing with all of the treasure’s they had been bestowed with before disappearing into the night. Xe would return within a few weeks most likely seeking new blankets for zir’s ever growing refuges. But until them, per’s trades will be well utilized within her clan.

Rosie could only grin as the sound of a wheelbarrow grew closer. New blood. Or better yet Maeve has brought bodies. Perfect.

[leavethemtorot]

Magnus and Myrddin relaxing in the lounge

Magnus: *quietly reading outloud*

Myrddin: *dozing on Magnus*

Gustave and Gene walk in arguing

Gene: Blue is a perfectly good color to like!

Gustave: It's ugly and gross, why can't you like grey or yellow, those are fine colors to like.

Magnus: If you dolts wake Myr, you do know you won't know the end of it for months

Myrddin: *stirring*

Gene and Gustave: *staring in fear*

Gene and Gustave: *quickly exiting the room*

[leavethemtorot]

Another look for Myrddin Mim

[leavethemtorot]

They had always been a motley crew even in the beginning, when it had just been a boy who had seen too much and wanted to create a safe place, a disabled shut-in just wanting his brother back, and his cousin who had enough anger to level the whole Isle.

Their numbers have grown.

A heavily scarred girl and a handsome one argue while a man watches amused.

Family has come home.

Red and Pink and Green and White all mixed, hair scattered everywhere.

There's more work to be done. There always is. But they've done good for now, have done good from where they began.

[leavethemtorot]

Jane: I thought Mal or Uma were the most magically powerful VKs?

Myrddin: I'm the grandson of Merlin, Madam Mim, and Morgana la Fay. Who do you think is more powerful?