Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Carlos de Vil hated being coddled. 

He hated being treated like a baby. 

That didn’t stop his friends from doing it, but with them it was more tolerable.

His mother treated him like a stupid toddler.

Maleficent saw him as simply a tool to be used. 

The Evil Queen thought of him as a servant. 

Jafar was the best out of all four of them, but he still wasn’t perfect—sure, he treated Carlos as if he were his own son(and, honestly, with all the time he spent living with him and Jay rather than his mother, he might as well be), but he didn’t really know how to be a parent. 

Jafar did his best, though, and that was good enough for Carlos.

Everyone in their friend group all had their own roles, their own parts to play. 

Mal was the leader—she was also the best at acting “correctly.”

Or, what Maleficent said was correct. 

Mal wasn’t very good at showing or dealing with emotions—she usually kept them locked away in her mine, trapped behind her cold green eyes and emotionless expression.

Evie was the healer. 

She was the oldest, she was the kindest, and she took care of them.

She was the most laid back and collected of the four, and preferred to settle things with words rather than violence. 

She was also the confidant—the one all of them went to for help. 

Jay was the protector. 

He put his friends first, always putting himself between them and the danger. 

He was about half a year younger than Evie, and took his role as Mal and Carlos’s older brother very seriously.

And Carlos?

Carlos was the glue.

Carlos was what held them all together. 

He was the youngest, and the most emotional out of all four of them, but he never really minded. 

He wasn’t the best at being a bad guy, but when he needed to, he was able to pretend to be cruel. 

He didn’t like doing it, but it was necessary. 

In the parent department, Jay had it the best, followed by Carlos, but only because he spent more time in Jafar’s house than Cruella’s. 

Living with Cruella had been Hell, but he was lucky enough to not have to deal with it much anymore(and even when he did, it wasn’t much compared to Mal).

The Evil Queen was a silver tongued snake, manipulating her daughter and putting her down whenever she got the chance. 

Maleficent was considered the worst villain, so it made sense that she’d be the worst parent, too. 

Carlos couldn’t count how many times he’d found Mal injured in the middle of the night, and that wasn’t including how many times she’d gone to Evie or Jay or their clubhouse or just stayed home. 

But no matter what happened, no matter how much one of them was hurt or how angry they were at each other, they were there.

They were all always there.

They were there when Carlos had panic attacks.

They were there when Jay got caught stealing and punished by whomever the victim of his thieving was.

They were there when Mal tried to end her life.

They were there when Evie wouldn’t accept that she deserved love. 

They were always there. 

And that would never change.

It couldn’t.

And Carlos would make sure it didn’t.

When Evie was fourteen, her life changed forever. 

Someone had chosen them—them, of all people—to go to Auradon.

Auradon chose them.

Auradon chose them.

They chose them.

They chose them.

Auradon chose them.

She couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why the thieving son of Jafar?

Why the cunning son of Cruella de Vil?

Why the manipulative daughter of the Evil Queen?

And, most of all, why the aggressive daughter of Maleficent?

I don’t deserve this, she thought. I’m not good enough for this. 

Evie was confused. 

Very, incredibly, utterly, confused. 

“Why us?” 

Maleficent shrugged. “It doesn’t matter why, it just matters that you go to Auradon and get the wand. Simple.”

“Well, Evie isn’t going,” her mother said firmly. “She has things to do around the house,” 

Evie nodded in agreement. 

Her mother was right—of course she was right, she always was. 

“Neither is Jay,” Jafar placed a hand on Carlos’s shoulder, glaring at Cruella as if to say try and take him, I dare you. “I need him to restock the store.”

Maleficent sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You fools. They all go, they get the wand, we’re freed, we exact revenge on everyone who ever wronged us and everyone they care about.”

In the end, the mistress of all evil won the argument, and, in what seemed like a matter of seconds, the core four were on their way to the mainland.

Ben didn’t know what he’d been expecting to see when the four Isle kids arrived, but it definitely wasn’t..well, kids. 

The girl with blue hair seemed to be the oldest, and was probably around fourteen or fifteen, the long haired boy looked about a year younger than her, and the other two couldn’t be older than twelve.

It especially bothered him when he saw how they carried themselves. 

The eldest girl was tense, her shoulders squared and her eyes watching the welcoming team(him and his girlfriend) like a hawk.

The tallest, the boy with long hair, kept himself positioned close to the other three(another thing he noticed was that they were all huddled together).

The shortest, a girl with bright green eyes, eyed them suspiciously. She was slightly ahead of her friends, but stayed close to them.

(The tall boy seemed like a bodyguard as he stood behind her.)

The youngest, a boy with bleached hair and a face covered in freckles, was next to the tall boy, his eyes darting around the courtyard as he tapped his foot on the ground with nervous energy.

Ben and Audrey exchanged glances, unsure of what to do.

It was clear that the four weren’t thrilled to be there, but the decision had been made and there was no turning back.

Ben took a step forward, extending his hand to the eldest. 

“Welcome to Auradon Prep,” he greeted with a smile, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m Ben,”

The short girl looked at her friend, then his hand, then him, and then her friend again, giving her a small nod. 

The blue haired one stepped forward, accepting Ben’s hand with a curt nod. “Evie,”

He chose to ignore the hesitance and skepticism laced in her voice. 

“That’s Mal,” she said, nodding at the underweight girl with pale skin and bright green eyes. 

After a moment of silence, Evie pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. “Mal, say hello,”

“Hi,” the shorter girl mumbled, her eyes downcast.

“Jay,” she gestured to the tall boy, who nodded in greeting. 

“And Carlos,”

The youngest waved, leaning closer to his friend. 

“We’re so excited to show you guys around!” Ben silently thanked Audrey for taking over the tour. 

“We’re not here to make friends.” Jay stated bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Evie shot him a look that clearly meant play nice, and he nodded reluctantly. 

The tour of Auradon Prep was…interesting. 

Male couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy as they walked through grand halls filled with smiling and happiness and friendship. 

It was like a fairytale come to life—everything was so clean and perfect, the students dressed so nicely and had everything they could ever want.

Nobody was being attacked, or robbed, nobody was yelling at anyone, everything was…peaceful?

She didn’t know if that was the right word to describe it, but she knew that it definitely wasn’t normal. 

It had to be staged.

Nothing could be that perfect without being fake.

..right?

Chapter Text

The first day of classes was somehow even more overwhelming than the tour.

The four of them stuck together like glue, not trusting anyone else. 

Carlos stayed close to Jay, his eyes darting around as if looking for a trap, or a means of escape.

Mal had her arms wrapped around herself, trying to seem smaller than she already was.

Jay was eerily quiet, taking everything in with a sharp gaze, but not saying anything. 

Evie tried to seem unfazed, but curiosity was practically radiating off of her. 

The classrooms were different from the ones on the Isle—there were windows, actual windows without any bars that allowed in sunlight, and the walls and floors weren’t stained with blood. 

The teachers didn’t have any weapons—none that Mal could see, anyway—which was strange and unsettling. 

She was used to teachers having knives, swords, clubs—anything that could cause pain. 

How else would they keep everyone in line?

On the Isle, teachers have just books or chalk, they had whips, chains, and blades. 

None of the teachers liked Mal. 

Sometimes they hurt her even when she hadn’t done anything wrong. 

But that was just how it was—it was normal.

Mal was brought out of her head by a touch to her shoulder, causing her to flinch back, her breath hitching. 

Carlos. 

It was Carlos.

Just Carlos.

“You okay?” He whispered, a concerned look on his face. 

She nodded, forcing a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m..I’m fine,”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press any further.

She blinked, realizing that Evie and Jay weren’t there. 

Carlos must’ve noticed her confusion, because he smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “They had different classes,” 

“Oh..what about you?”

“Different age groups, different classes, I guess,”

Mal nodded again, feeling even more out of place than before.

But Carlos was there, and that was all that mattered. 

They headed to their first class, which was history.

The teacher was a stern looking man with silvery slicked back hair and cold brown eyes.

“Ah, De Vil, Malady, how kind of you to join us,” his voice was dry and devoid of any emotion other than irritation. 

Mal felt the weight of his gaze on her, and she shrank in on herself even more, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“Sorry we’re late,” Carlos said, his voice innocent. “We got lost,”

The teacher’s eyes narrowed. “I expect punctuality and respect. Take your seats before I mark you absent and send you to the headmistress to deal with you personally,” he snapped. 

Mal winced at his tone as she followed Carlos to two empty seats at the back.

She expected to be dragged out of the room and whipped, but she was surprised when the teacher didn’t move, just glared at them as they sat down. 

The other students stared at them, some with curiosity and others with disgust.

Mal zoned out for the rest of the lesson, her mind wandering as the teacher droned on and on. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bell, signaling the end of class.

Mal got to her feet, eager to get out of the suffocating room, but as she turned to follow the other students out, the teacher's hand clamped down on her shoulder. 

She froze, flinching away and turning to face him.

The teacher's grip tightened. "You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Mal's heart pounded in her chest. 

This was it. 

The punishment she'd been expecting all along.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice shaking.

The teacher's grip on her shoulder tightened. 

"Because I need to speak with you, Malady," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "In private."

"Come with me," he ordered, and Mal had no choice but to follow him to the front of the room, her legs feeling like lead weights.

Mal's eyes met Carlos's for a brief moment.

His eyes were wide with concern, but she just offered a weak smile to reassure him.

Once the room was empty, the teacher released her shoulder, his grip lingering a moment longer than necessary.

Mal's heart raced as he closed the door, leaving the two of them in the suffocating silence of the classroom.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

The teacher's expression didn't change. 

"I expect you to be more respectful when talking to me, Malady," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Mal swallowed, her eyes flicking to the floor. 

"Sorry," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Sorry, sir," he corrected, his voice like a whip crack.

Mal nodded, her throat dry. 

"Sorry, sir," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

The teacher's hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to meet his cold gaze. 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he snarled.

Mal's eyes widened, but she complied, looking up at him with a mix of fear and defiance.

"That's better," he said, his grip on her chin loosening slightly. "Now, I know you're new here, and I know you come from... a different background, but things are done differently in Auradon. You will respect your teachers, your classmates, and the rules of this school. Is that clear?"

Mal nodded, not trusting her voice. 

She didn't dare say anything that might set him off further.

The teacher released her chin, his eyes never leaving hers. 

"Is that clear?" he repeated, his tone more of a demand than a question.

Mal’s eyes darted to the door, willing it to open and save her from this uncomfortable situation. 

But it remained firmly shut, leaving her trapped with the cold gaze of the man in front of her. 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. 

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good. Now, I’ve been informed that you’ve had difficulty focusing and following directions, is that true?”

Despite knowing that it was a rhetorical question, she nodded.

"I don't tolerate troublemakers," the teacher continued, his eyes narrowed. "You will behave, or you will face the consequences."

Mal nodded again, trying to shrink even further into herself.

“…why just me?” She asked.

“Excuse me?”

She gulped, regretting opening her mouth at all.

“Why did you just want to talk to me? Why not Carlos too?”

“Carlos De Vil has a promising future ahead of him,” he replied. “There was no reason to keep him from his next class,”

Mal muttered something under her breath.

“What did you say?” He demanded. 

Her eyes widened. 

“N-nothing,” she stammered, her voice cracking.

He grabbed her chin harshly again, his eyes flashing with anger. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, Malady. Remember your place here. Now, I want you to think about what I’ve said. Your behavior will be closely monitored, and any missteps will be dealt with swiftly and severely. Do you understand?”

Mal nodded frantically, a whimper escaping her lips despite her best efforts to hold it in.

The teacher's grip on her chin tightened. 

"What was that?" he demanded, his voice like ice.

Mal's eyes watered as she tried to pull away, the sting of his grip becoming unbearable.

The teacher's expression didn't change, his eyes still cold and unfeeling. "What, you can’t even bother to respond with something other than a pathetic whine?”

Mal’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger. 

She didn’t know why she was so scared of him—it wasn’t like he was her mother, or any of the other adults from the Isle. 

But something about the way he talked to her, the way he looked at her, it just..reminded her of her mother.

The teacher’s grip on her chin tightened even more, making her want to scream.

But she didn’t.

Instead, Mal steeled herself, taking a deep breath.

“S-sorry, sir,” she mumbled, eyes downcast. 

This wasn’t the first time she’d been in this situation, this position, this conversation, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Mal knew how to play the part—how to seem small and weak and obedient.

She had to. 

She’d learned a long time ago that her survival depended on it.