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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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Fairy Godmother: Would you kids like to sign up for the talent show?

Jay: I have a magic trick I could show you right now.

Fairy Godmother: Oh, really? I’d love to see it!

Jay, handing her wallet back to her: Amazing, right?

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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not me formulating a foster care au

#descendants #disney descendants

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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gay gay homosexual gay

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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fairytales for children with souls | part 4 of 4 (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

carlos is afraid of two things, and two things only. dogs, and his mother. everything else fails to impress him.

carlos’ fear is not debilitating. he does not shake or cry and vomit like the people in the books. when he is afraid, the whole world turns to static, like there’s cotton in his ears and fog in his brain. he does not feel his gut churn or his stomach turn or his heart rabbit in his chest. he feels absolutely nothing at all.

he is not, like his peers think, afraid of violence or death or pain. carlos is not afraid of the villains bigger and older than him. he is perfectly willing to fight for his food- and he does, scratching and biting and pulling out his switchblade and stabbing for his food because he had a whole family to feed, not just himself. he cooks for cruella, for henry and jace, and for horace and jasper, who spend the meal whining and whining that if cruella hadn’t gotten them caught, they wouldn’t be stuck on the “shit streets of this cesspit of a jail.”, and carlos always thinks to himself, viciously, that he wished those dogs had ripped out their throats, bitten their tongues off, because then he wouldn’t have to listen to them whine.

(he does not voice this thought.)

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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fairytales for children with no souls | part 3 of 4 (part 2) (part 1)

mal is half faerie, but she’s half a human, too.

and her mother takes every opportunity in her power to remind her of this fact- slapping her upside the head and hissing “you stupid, human-sullied bastard child”, throwing her out of bargain castle screaming “go roll around in the dirt if you’re going to act like a greasy human!”.

when maleficent wants to scare her, she whispers in her ear about how her stupid, weak, human father’s corpse is in the dungeons underneath them, rotting slowly as the years tick and tick by. covered with maggots and lice and fleas, his fingernails being chewed off by rats, worms crawling out of his empty eye-sockets. but when she’s told this, all she can imagine is her own face down there, rotting in the dungeons.

mal’s earliest memories are of her staring at the hazy sky through the barrier, and of the outside of bargain castle, sat up on a hill, large and dark and imposing. it looked like it could turn into a dragon, much the way it’s master could. come to life and stand and shudder on four legs and raze the entire island to the ground. part of her wished it would. maybe, then, magic could be free.

the idea that the barrier stops any and all magic is ludicrous. magic is inherent. magic is energy, an eternal push and pull. magic is in the air, in the earth, in their blood and their lungs and pumping through their bodies with every bump-bump-bump of their heartbeats. magic is in every breath jay breathes, in every swish and flick of evie’s expert hands, in every cell and atom of mal’s body.

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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fairytales for children with no souls | part 2 of 4. (part 1) (part 3)

jay has been called the “prince of thieves” for as long as he can remember.

the first time, he’s sitting on the counter of his father’s shop, eyes raking over his haul (two necklaces of rusted silver that he stole from gothel, and a golden bracelet swiped from maleficent’s brat of a kid). to a six year old jay, it sounds like the perfect title, rife with bitter irony and anger. perfect for a villain’s kid.

needless to say, the jab on his father is lost on jay. but it is not on jafar. his father’s eyes widen almost comically, as his face curls into an enraged snarl. jafar sends the man running, and then he throws jay out of his shop, screaming about how “if you want to be a filthy street rat, then you can live like one!”.

jay does not say that they are all street rats, clawing desperately at each others throats for scraps of rotten food.

but jay is confused, and curious. which leads him to madam mim’s shop. her sweaty, matted purple hair is tied out of her weathered, wrinkled face by a length of rope that looks as if it’s dry-rotted so much it’s one with her hair. “mim, can i ask you something?” he places his palms on the counter. “whats a ‘prince of thieves’?” he asks, brown eyes wide with something resembling naivety, the last dregs of his innocence shining on his face, partly terrified and partly sick to his stomach and partly curious.

the scowl melts off her face and a stony expression replaces it. she leans close and uncharacteristically quietly tells him the story of the prince of thieves and his princess. of his father’s fairy tale.

(of his father’s greatest failure.)

and wow, isn’t the isle just the embodiment of failure? while mal talks nonsense about being a child of a great legacy, about having a villain’s pedigree, all jay can think to do is look at the world around them. if villains are truly so superior, then why did they lose? jafar always tells him that nothing means anything unless you win, that gaining and achieving and climbing is all there is to life.

so if villains are so domineering and powerful, why are they trapped here? on a rock where the water tastes like chemicals and the food is rotted and moldy? on an island where the corpses of the sick decompose in the streets? if villains are so amazing why did every single one get trapped on the isle to rot and wither away? even maleficent got caught in the end.

and so the castles cease to be intimidating. the violence ceases to disgust him. maleficent’s snapping voice ordering him around ceases to make his gut twist. what’s the point of expending the energy on being afraid, when he has more productive things to do? why should he be scared of an abject failure? he becomes apathetic in the face of villanous power, snarky and rude and uncaring in the face of his “elders”, because why should he respect an authority that are a bunch of idiots, ailing in their old age and slowly dying?

every single villain trapped on the isle is a failure, and the villain’s kids are nothing but the children of failures.

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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I think it’s really funny how some of yall want to blame Mal or Uma or any other VK for not taking proper care of younger Isle kids BEFORE you would blame their parents or the system that put them there

#its Really easy to tell which parts of this fandom Arent abuse survivors honestly

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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Florian Family + Signs of Abuse 2/2

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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ben: really, mal, you need to be more mindful of your actions. you know id never do anything to hurt you or the other VKs, but my father isnt so kind, and-

mal: dude. you want me to “be more mindful”? i havent even killed anyone yet

ben:

ben: yet????

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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On Blunt Teeth and Names

Jane walks on eggshell shaped marble floors and ties her clothes tightly around herself, until she can stop breathing in all the names she is offered. “I’m Li Lonnie“, the girl says and Jane can feel the bluntness of her teeth against her tongue and the weight of a full name against her clavicle, offered without a second thought. The girl’s hair frames her face and Jane thinks of what her mother tells her, each night when the glamour drops and she is old and worn and fae again. “Don’t take their words to swallow them, they don’t know what it is they are promising.“

Did Cinderella know, she wants to ask, wants to bare her teeth until they aren’t useless and blunt and human anymore. Did she know what you took from her, in return for a dress and a carriage and horses. She doesn’t. Instead, she smiles at her mother, her teeth white and gleaming and filed, her shoulder blades itching. Her mother smiles, too, and the light behind her flickers.

“What’s your name?”, the girl asks, smiles at her and stretches out her hand. Jane bows her head and can feel how her hair covers her ears. She doesn’t say anything.

“I’m Mulan’s daughter”, the girl says and the weight settles heavier against Jane’s skin. “You know, saviour of China? She went to the army disguised as -”

“I know”, Jane says, can feel her teeth bleeding acid on her tongue. “Nice to meet you.”

The girl blinks. “I’m your roommate”, she says and Jane feels as if she might spit out her magic from where it rests in her mouth.

“My roommate?” Her shoulder blades itch.

The girl nods. “Yeah, apparently they need two of the rooms for new arrivals, so they transferred me and Doug. I’m not going to bother you for long, Fairy Godmother says it’s only for a month.”

Jane thinks of rags and balls and step sisters ripping mouse sewn love apart and she bows her head again.

“Carlos, please, can you at least wait until you’re sober?”

“So you can rethink things and go back to hiding behind your hair? No can do.” Carlos grins at her and spins the chair she is sitting on. Jane furrows her brows. He laughs. “I’ve cut my mother’s hair with a concussion and I did Evie’s hair with a broken wrist, I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He reaches for a brush. “And I’m not that drunk. Jay drank most of the vodka before I got my hands on it.”

Jane sighs. “Alright, do it before I lose my nerve.” Carlos bows with a flourish and starts working.

“Hey, Jane?” Jane hums and closes her eyes. “They’re not particularly careful with their names, are they?”

Jane thinks about the weight on her skin, about all the names in the palms of her hands, her clavicles, her hip bones, thinks about Aurora and her pale white skin, about Audrey and her sleeping pills. She says nothing.

“I mean - ”, Carlos undoes one of the buns he tied at the back of her head. He staggers slightly, “- when we first came here, Ben introduced himself with full name and title, and he shook all our hands. Audrey as well.” He reaches for his scissors. “Not that I’m particularly dangerous, but is it custom here to immediately strike deals with fairies one doesn’t know? Seems a bit rushed.”

“How do you know that?”

Carlos shrugs. “I grew up with – please don’t move your head or everything’s gonna be uneven – I grew up with Maleficent ruling the dump, didn’t I?” Jane opens her eyes again. Carlos is bent over her, a look of concentration on his face. “You learn pretty quickly that your name is one of the best secrets to keep.”

“So your name isn’t Carlos?” She cooks her head and Carlos moves it again.

“Please hold still. Oh no, it is, I’m already in so many contracts that it really doesn’t matter anymore.” He grins. “But did you really think the Evil Queen named her child Evie?”

“Nicknames, then?”

Carlos hums. “Nicknames, abbreviations, parts of it, parts of our parents’ names. Whatever we can offer, you know?”

Jane stares into the mirror. Suddenly her teeth feel ragged and sharp and the acid in her mouth tastes like blood.

Carlos runs his brush through her hair. “It’s not like that here, huh?”

“Mother says I shouldn’t take their words at face value. They don’t know what they do.”

“Does it matter?”

Jane thinks of Lonnie and her laugh, of her hair and all the magic she watched seep out of it with every hug. “No”, she says. “I guess not.”

“I mean, I always thought that fae don’t care much if the contract was entered willingly or not. A contract’s a contract and if someone is stupid enough to get themselves stuck in one, so be it.”

“We’re good fairies”, Jane says and thinks of her mother’s old worn face and the wand, hidden away behind glass and alarms, and how it feels in her hands.

Carlos shrugs. “Jay always says magical creatures aren’t good or bad, those are human standards.”

“We can try”, Jane says and watches as her hair falls to the ground.

“Jane, you’ll break if you don’t start doing something with those names. Mal is already up the wall, and she actually uses what she is offered.”

Jane says nothing and looks at her ears, pointed and fae and inhuman and hers. Carlos smiles at her.

“Jane, what’s that on your back?” Lonnie’s hands are on Jane’s skin before she can answer and she feels the air leave her lungs. Lonnie takes a step back. “Oh fuck, sorry”, she says and Jane’s magic gathers in her mouth. Her skin tingles.

“I’m going to leave you alone, I -” Lonnie’s voice moves further away and Jane sighs.

“I’m growing wings”, she says. “I have been since I turned fourteen.”

“Is it normal for them to be so - ”

“Shrivelled up? Small?” Jane shakes her head and turns around, her shirt still in her hands. “No. I shouldn’t be covering them in clothes, but I can only go to school here until they start growing and Mom doesn’t want anyone to notice.”

Lonnie furrows her brows. “So you’d be going to another school?”

Jane shakes her head. “No. That’s the thing. He’d stick me with Fauna, Flora and Merryweather to entertain tourists. Or if I’m lucky I get to only have them cut off.”

“That’s cruel.”

“It’s Auradon. That’s what we do.”

Lonnie takes a step towards her. “Can you spread them?”

Her hair is longer now, but all the magic has flown out of it, it is thick and black again, the captain’s whistle rests on her chest and Jane thinks about the weight in her clavicle and her freezing, screaming magic and smiles. “I’ve never tried. Help me?”

Lonnie’s hands are cool against her fluttering wings as she helps her unfold them and Jane’s magic wraps itself around her and her name. The weight in Jane’s clavicle sinks into her rib cage.

____________________

If you enjoy my writing, consider buying me a coffee <3

#love this

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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Sup fuckers I'm Winter or Kieran or Mav, whatever you'd prefer

Certified Uma simp and lover of the core 4 + Ben. Heavy angster and huge supporter of the Auradon isn't perfect tag. I can and I will make everyone a raging bisexual

See my carrd for anymore information you want

#me #byf

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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Mal and Carlos non-binary headcanons:

- Mal is fine with all pronouns and doesn’t care for a label

- She’s had labels thrust on her for her entire life and doesn’t want another one

- She just wants to be perceived as a threat in a leather jacket

- Carlos likes labels because they give him something to work with, they make sense to his mind

- But he’s still unfamiliar with these new terms he’s allowed to use and explore, so for a while he just uses “non-binary” as he figures things out

- He/they Carlos. that will be all

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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Carlos de Vil Headcanon:

He really likes Belle’s father, Maurice. The man is gentle and nonthreatening, but most of all, he listens when Carlos shows him his inventions and knows enough to be comment on them and give him tips for next time. It’s one of the few times he really feels like he can get energized and passionate and take up space in the room instead of shrinking into a corner.

#YES #i Love ths

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baby-dragon-horns · 3 years

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The Face Of Hope Is A Bitter Thing

Summary: Audrey isn't meant to be this. She's meant to be the face of hope, the promise of a safe future of Auroria, the centre piece tying her family together. But she can't seem to ever live up to Anyone's expectations

AKA a solid amount of Audrey angst touching on her engagement with Ben, and the pressures of growing up knowing she's to be the Queen of Auradon and that she's the one Auroria is looking to for a better, safer future

~ Written for this week's drabble run on UF&C

Tws: Implied/referenced sex and cheating, engagement from childhood, and minor family issues

Read On AO3

Audrey pressed her back against the door, her head falling back and knocking hard against it. Her hands bunched in her skirt, pressing roughly against her thighs.

The pressure was good.

Grounding.

But there wasn’t enough of it.

Her eyes drowned in tears, blurring out her vision, making everything a hazey mess of soft pink and blinding white. She could make out faint shapes- her bed, her desk, her board with photos pinned to it, the glittering chandelier- but she couldn’t see anything clearly.

It was messy and unclear, a nightmare of uncertainties and wrong choices all bundled up in some pretty, innocent shade of pink.

A bit like her.

The tears gathered but they didn’t fall.

She couldn’t let them fall.

Dinner was at 6pm and her mascara couldn’t run. Tears would ruin her eyeshadow, her blush, her highlighter. Tears would ruin an otherwise convincingly perfect image and they couldn’t.

She couldn’t allow anyone to notice.

Her heart caught in her chest, pounding and burning, the little bites and bruises that were once so pretty and fun turning rotten and deceitful. The marks of a cheat, a slut, a failure. The preppy song she and Chad had heard from behind the bleachers chased circles through her head- loud and heavy and overwhelming, a never ending headache.

She wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Audrey had been engaged since she was born.

Every year there was a new engagement ring. A new shiny treasure that she would hold up to the sun and watch it shimmer, that she would exchange excited giggles with Ben over, that she would whisper secrets to and hold close to her chest.

A new ring that eventually went up on the display above her bed next to all the others, shimmering under the pink light of her bedroom. Blinding her through her tears.

It had been to keep her and Ben excited, she guessed. To keep them waiting for the day they would finally get married with joy in their chests and smiles in their eyes.

It’d been to keep the media involved, too, probably. To keep the public encaptured with the prospect of a union, an alliance. The promise of a hopeful, stable future.

And maybe it’d worked when she was little- when the flashing cameras were an excitement, not a nightmare. What five year old didn’t get excited about a big, gaudy ring with colourful jewels that reflected the night sky? What eight year old didn’t want a heavy ring shaped like an owl, with large opals for eyes?

But the rings didn’t excite her anymore.

She’d kept all the past ones up on display, a promise to herself as well as to the public, but it didn’t make her warm or happy to look at them anymore.

They hurt.

All she was, all she ever had been, was a bargaining chip. The baby who would keep Queen Leah satisfied, the toddler that would keep Father at home, the child that would signify the beginning of a new era for the people of Auroria.

The princess that would secure Auroria’s place in Auradon forever, that would marry the Beast’s son and keep their kingdom safe, that would make sure Maleficent was never brought off that Isle.

Never let near Mother again, never in the streets of Auroria again. Never let to terrorise and torture and pemanantly damage Auroria again.

Never let to bring out that side of Father again.

Audrey was hope. Audrey was new beginnings. Audrey was a promise to Auroria.

Audrey was a shiny gold coin to be bartered with until it lost value.

And had she lost value?

She closed her eyes, letting her hands curl tighter against her skirt.

She wasn’t the three year old picture of innocence anymore. She wasn’t as elegant as Queen Leah, or as pretty as Mother, or as strong as Father.

She was just a teenager with hair that wouldn’t stay down without ribbons and hairspray no matter how many straightening products Queen Leah gave her. With unproportioned limbs that a carefully considered wardrobe could only mask so much, and teeth so crooked they’d cost Father a fortune to fix and she would never stop hearing about it.

She was just a teenager a little too invested in politics and debating for a future queen of Auradon - a future trophy wife for the Beast’s son. A little too into cheerleading and school social committees, and not enough into embroidery and high class dinners. A little too loud and opinionated and not submissive or graceful enough.

A teenager with high collars to hide hickeys Father could never know about, never even suspect, and birth control bought in secret.

Because Audrey wasn’t just a teenager. She didn’t have the freedom to do what she wanted, she didn’t have the luxury to do things for herself.

Audrey was the anchor for an unstable family. Audrey was the bargaining chip keeping Auroria in Auradon and Maleficent on the Isle.

Audrey was the face of hope and the dream of a safer Auroria.

#mine

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