i fucking hate the way you look at me now. it’s like you don’t even recognize me anymore and maybe you’re not wrong for that, because after you left i reinvented myself completely. the best part of me was always you and i ripped that straight out. i broke my own ribs at the attempt of tearing my heart out. i bruised my knuckles on the wall whenever i saw you kissing her and i lost myself for a while. i was still the me that was wrapped around your finger; the one you got off on. and then i walked away one day and with shaky hands, i sanded down my bones, creating a sturdy structure. no longer a broken one. i skinned myself alive and i bled myself dry. and then the next morning i woke up from my bed of decay and painted on a new smile. i became someone new. i became someone who’s bones you didn’t break, someone who’s heart you didn’t touch, someone’s who’s skin you no longer have fingerprints etched into, and someone who’s lips no longer remember what it feels like to be against yours and i’m okay with that. i’m a new me, and i hope the old you, the one i fell for, has it in him to be proud of me.
In 5x16, Regina said that “when family needs you, you step up.” And then, in 6x18, Zelena makes one of the biggest sacrifices we’ve ever seen in this show FOR A SISTER WHO HATES HER GUTS AND A DAUGHTER WHO IS TOO YOUNG TO UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON.
In 3x13, Zelena breaks into Regina’s office and politely fucks up her shit, and then waits for her and Emma to find her. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, just waits until they find her and then poofs away and leaves their minds blown.
In 6x09, Zelena is actually about to make a heartfelt apology for affiliating herself with the Evil Queen and all the trouble she caused, which was really only holding Archie hostage. I don’t know about him, but I’d rather be held in a small cage as a cricket than tortured or murdered, but maybe that’s just me.
TL;DR - Zelena made an epic sacrifice, she is extra AF, and was going to apologize for doing dumb shit and she didn’t murder a man.
So passeth, in the passing of a day,
Of mortal life, the leaf, the bud, the flower;
Ne more doth flourish after first decay,
That erst was sought to deck both bed and bower
Of many a lady and many a paramour.
Gather therefore the rose whilst yet is prime,
For soon comes age that will her pride deflower.
Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time,
Whilst loving thou mayst lovèd be with equal crime.
You know what I’d do to make the Descendants Universe a lot less horrifying and more realistic? Make the Isle of the Lost a Voluntary Choice
Make it so that Beast didn’t bend the laws of time and nature just to imprison people that were already dead, make arguably one of the most inhumane, cruel, and senseless penal systems in fiction.
Make it so that the Isle of the Lost isn’t an island prison, it’s where all of the villains and their lackeys have exiled themselves, where the outcasts, the rebels, and the criminals that just couldn’t turn to the side of “Good” fled because they found no place for them in Auradon, or they broke out of jail and fled there to recuperate and rebuild their Evil Plans for World Domination.
You can keep the anti-magic elements, that keep the villains from having the full potential of their power. Make it so that it’s a strange gaffe from fusing the worlds, a giant continent where the magic of Auradon just refuses to flow, which is why all the villains fled there and none of the good people settled it beforehand.
Make it so that Beast isn’t rightfully called a tyrant who levied an inhumane punishment on so many people, innocents like the VK’s and the many other criminals who could have probably changed if you didn’t imprison them for life (or all of eternity, in the case of the immortals).
Make it so that all the Disney Villains and their evil lackeys chose to live there, that they made their awful, congested, decaying bed, and they’re going to sleep in it every single night because their pride can’t take living in the bright, shiny evidence of their defeats at the hands of Good, can’t take the hand Beast and Belle have offered them to try and live a normal life without all the world domination.
Pride is a big element of Descendants.
It’s what makes Beast a terrible ruler, who can’t seem to fathom that he could ever make a wrong decision; why Maleficent failed twice over when she simply thought too highly of her powers and too little of the Rotten Four; and why Ben is such a good king, because he’s willing to challenge the ideals of his society, to put his reputation and even the loyalty of his people on the line.
It’s also much more interesting to me if you portray the villains as voluntarily living in the craphole that is the Isle of the Lost, the kids being so manipulated they think this squallor is a good thing, that their lot in life is to live in this craphole, have scenes where Maleficent is using her goons to prevent people with changes of hearts from escaping to Auradon, have scenes where Beast’s “Stay there!” (or something to that effect) posters with an accusing, disdainful face are turned into “It’s never too late to walk the right path.” with him, Belle, and the other heroes extending their hands.
What I’m saying essentially is that I want Descendants to be a lot more morally grey than the Black and Lighter Black it is–because Auradon is a utopia built on the backs of the suffering, the imprisonment, and the total exile of the “Bad” people.
My best friend shot heroin into my arm as I rolled up my sleeve and showed him the ways he could show me the world.
I cried into the softness like an empty desert and when I fell back it felt like warm dirt on a hot summer day.
I cried into my coffee in the morning when I heard what happened to you and it was sad even though you did it to yourself.
I never thought at twenty I’d watch my friends start to leave.
Forgive me, for my sins, delusions and atrocities.
Forgive me, please, because at nineteen no one has a grip.
I have never faltered in my ways until now, and I will never falter like this again- I promise.
I shouted into oblivion the syllables of your name and lamented how strange it felt to hear no echo in the canyons of your absence.
I pulled my legs across the spaces in between us but found myself waking up wrapped in blankets in my bed.
My mother said I was addiction prone.
My father said my tolerance was good.
I lay in a bed decaying and wishing and wasting away like
My friends wrapped in earth.
I stood on my roof and wondered why I couldn’t see you leap across the edge and
I bled out my teeth planning to bury them next to you.
I kept your body in a glass in my pantry
And I kept your tears next to the bourbon.
You left your laughs in the cracks on my ceiling and I heard them last night when I was sleeping.