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what a shame, we all became such fragile, broken things

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Carlos de Vil, offspring of the one and only crazy bitch that lives up the hill. Carlos de Vil, 15 year old selfish brat. Carlos de Vil, kid from the Isle. Carlos de Vil, maniac, dog, Cruella 2.0. Carlos de Vil, wuss, lackey, minion. Carlos de Vil, punk, thief, number one pain-in-the-ass. Carlos de Vil, witch, engineer, mechanic. Carlos de Vil, maid, punching bag, ashtray.

 

Carlos de Vil, crybaby?

 

Jay, son of Jafar, heir to the devil incarnate. Jay, son of Jafar, 16 year old whore. Jay, son of Jafar, Isle gang runner. Jay, son of Jafar, genie, djinn, demon. Jay, son of Jafar, brute, bruiser, victimizer. Jay, son of Jafar, cheat, danger, good lay. Jay, son of Jafar, flirt, thief, narcissist. Jay, son of Jafar, shopkeep, slave, pincushion.

 

Jay, son of Jafar, scared?

 

Carlos de Vil does not cry, ever. Weak people are the ones who cry when real life doesn’t suit their needs. He can’t afford to cry, even when the constant pain forces salty tears into his bleeding wounds.

Jay, son of Jafar, isn’t scared of anything, ever. Letting fear consume you is what gets weak people killed. He is not weak enough to care, even when the terror has tremors run through his hands and a lack of breath in his lungs.

 

They lied.

 

Carlos, child to a mother who wanted no children. Carlos, 15 year old child. Carlos, abandoned by Auradon. Carlos, bullied, chased, harassed. Carlos, needy, dependant, helpless. Carlos, adapted, survivor, fighter. Carlos, genius, student, builder. Carlos, worker, abused, tortured.

Carlos, strong.

Jay, son to a father with no need for a kid. Jay, 16 year old begger. Jay, tossed away by royalty. Jay, bleeding, crying, human. Jay, caretaker, helper, protector. Jay, slick, calculating, molested. Jay, sacrificed, pained, hated. Jay, employee, beaten, used.

Jay, empowered.

 

Carlos cried once. He was only 2 years old. Cruella had tried to gouge his eyes out until he finally stopped screaming. He still has the scars.

 

Jay had panicked once. He was only 5 years old. The witch that caught his searching hands digging through her purse wanted to cut off his head to mount on her mantle. He was far less scared of her than he was of the look on Jafar's face when he came home with nothing.

 

When Carlos was 13 years old, Cruella threw him over the banister of the mansion staircase, cracking his skull on the unforgiving tile below, giving him a concussion, and shattering his arm so badly he should have amputated it. Instead, he woke up to wrapped wounds and wet sobs, lying on his ratty mattress in the arms of a familiar long-haired boy. One who was currently crying into his hair.

 

When he finally got the truth, that he was so painfully delirious he begged Jay for hours to just make it stop; that he cried, and shivered, and spasmed. That no matter how hard the brunette tried to mend broken bones, and clean cuts; no matter how close Jay held him, he just wouldn't. Stop. Screaming. That he made his only friend so stressed, so scared for his life that he had cried for the first time in eleven years.

It took one look. One look at the boy he loved is all it took to make his cries start all over again, the rules be damned.

That night, in Jay’s arms, their lips pressed together, and tears mixing; for the first time in his life, he felt safe. The tears finally stopped coming, externally and internally.

 

Carlos de Vil, Jay, son of Jafar: non-existent.