Villain kids

24

The two walked back in silence, the kind that hung thick and heavy, yet oddly comforting. Mark hadn’t said a word since being told to stay quiet—he respected that boundary with gentle reverence.

He understood.

Donghyuck had just been hit with more truth in thirty minutes than most people learn in a lifetime. That his mother—Maleficent, the dark icon of fear and power—had once been a fairy, kind and radiant. That her descent into darkness was heartbreak, not hunger for power. That love, not hatred, had lit the first spark of her fury.

No wonder Donghyuck looked shattered. His world wasn’t just shaken—it had been flipped, spun, and set on fire.

All his life, he thought cruelty ran in his blood, that in order to be like her, he had to harden, perform wickedness like a duty. But now... he realized he’d never really been evil. He’d just been trying to mirror someone who had been broken long before he was born.

Now came the question: which part of her did he want to become?

He’d arrived in Auradon with orders—destroy the kingdom. But lately... that plan felt small. Ridiculous, even. This place wasn’t what he’d been told. It was warmth and color and laughter and... him. Mark.

Maybe this was his chance to rewrite his story.

His thoughts paused when he realized he wasn’t alone. Mark walked beside him, shoulders slightly hunched, hands fidgeting. His pouty lips twitched like he was holding back a storm of words. But he stayed silent. Respectful.

Donghyuck’s heart softened.

“Mark?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the old bridge. The prince’s head snapped up so fast, Donghyuck nearly laughed.

“Yes?” Mark replied, voice hopeful, eyes wide.

The purple-haired boy smiled. Just a little. It was enough to spark a grin on Mark’s face.

“I think you said something happens at a certain hour… has it already passed?”

Mark gasped, his entire face lighting up. “We can still catch it!” he cried, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand and pulling him forward with giddy urgency.

They ran down the stone path, Mark in the lead like an excited child, Donghyuck giggling behind him, hair catching in the wind. He almost forgot the weight in his chest.

And then—they stopped.

And stared.

The water that shimmered before now danced in all the colors imaginable. Sunlight kissed the stones beneath their feet, creating a glowing rainbow path, like walking on liquid light. It was breathtaking.

“Whenever the sun sets, it hits here first,” Mark whispered, still holding his hand. “All the sparkly stuff—minerals, crystals, who knows—makes the sunlight explode like this. I come here when my head’s too full. It makes everything quiet. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Donghyuck turned to him, eyes glassy with wonder, and nodded furiously. His mouth hung open. “I can’t believe something like this exists,” he whispered, eyes drinking it in.

Then he felt it. A gentle squeeze. Mark’s hand in his. A silent message: you’re not alone.

Donghyuck smiled at the warmth, clutching back just a little tighter.

They stood there until the light dimmed, until the rainbow faded and the sky deepened into soft night. The magic lingered on their skin.

And for the first time, maybe in forever, Donghyuck felt like he belonged somewhere.