#but tldr mom's okay!! love her

[furcoveredinblood]

Sorry I ain’t say something sooner but I’m praying for you and your ma, I know what it’s like to have something that scary and sudden happen to a family member. Praying that she makes a full recovery and that everyone can overcome the pain and stress of the whole situation. You are very kind and strong by my account and I truly believe your ma is as well, and y’all will come out of this stronger. Much love to you both <3

(Please forgive me, I’m feeling sappy as well.)

no worries at all, apologies for the late response!

i'm happy to say that my mother is doing great, but is still in the hospital and we don't know when she'll be back home. i will say that she got extremely lucky; the bullet managed to just miss her collarbone and major arteries in the area she was shot, meaning the damage was very minimal compared to if the bullet hit her subclavian artery or something. she is very lucky.

there was unfortunately some complications after surgery which has made recovery quite difficult for my mother, but she's been fighting through it like a warrior. my father did end up getting the bullet made into a necklace and she demanded my dad put it on for her immediately, she thinks it's the coolest thing. she has been so insanely strong throughout all of this and i can't wait for her to come home and get back to a normal life as best she can. i'm still in new york and i won't be back home until my mom is out of the hospital, so i'm not entirely sure when i'll be returning to massachusetts. but i'm making the best of it by visiting my mom when i can and praying for her every single salah. i am so so proud of her for being so strong during something so traumatic. i've passed the love and prayers from you guys to her and she appreciates it all so much <3

[milolovesbmc]

Genuinely don't get how people forget about Trina so easily or undermine her in favour of literally anyone else. Like have you seen this woman. I'm a gay man and I would beg and plead for a chance with her oh my god. Smash.

[shopcat]

omfg people really need to calm the fuck down about people disliking some characters like it's not always a deep seated prejudice or an inability to empathise it's because we are human beings with our own experiences and normal biases and fictional characters are not real and it doesn't matter if you don't like them for pretty much any reason at all and doesn't make you suddenly x just because the character is y it just means you don't like them. obviously other indications of actual prejudice or a repeated pattern mean something else entirely but you can just dislike a character because get this they're a character and not a real person. you can dislike real people too even it's almost like we've got free will. please oh please can we get out of the torture chamber together.

[azxremoon]

i listen to monochrome no kiss one time and suddenly im being dragged into the shadow realm by my ankles

[cherryredcheol]

just one secret

tldr: you know what they say about assuming... a/n: reader is referred to as she/her/wife. this is as angsty as i'll ever be (and this isn't angst)

“okay, just make sure she doesn’t find out. i don’t want her to know.”

you stopped dead in your tracks. you weren’t trying to spy on mingyu and his phone conversation, honest. you had just woken up from a very peaceful nap and the plan was to go beg mingyu to cook for you, or at least pay for take-out. your blood ran cold hearing mingyu on the phone in the living room. you didn’t keep secrets from each other. or at least you didn’t keep secrets from him. you were under the impression it went both ways but suddenly you’re not sure. 

you knew you were jumping to conclusions. you’re not even sure what he was talking about. who he was talking about. it could be any other woman in his life, his sister or his mom. but how were you not supposed to spiral when you hear him whispering on the phone to god knows who about secrets? your stomach twisted uncomfortably. what were you going to-

“angel? you up? are you hungry?” mingyu was calling to you from the living room. he must’ve heard you down the hall. before you could even figure out what your next steps were going to be, he appeared in the doorway, backlit from the sunny windows, and you almost melted seeing him smile at you. but then that little voice in the back of your head reminded you mingyu was keeping secrets. 

“who were you on the phone with?” you had to play it cool, not wanting to alert him of your suspicion. you didn’t want to accuse him of something that was nothing. the best course of action here was to let him tell you. ask a few leading questions and let him fill in the blanks. if it really was nothing, he’d tell you. 

mingyu started walking towards you, holding his arms out for you. “it was no one, angel. are you hungry? i can cook or we can get take-out. what sounds good?” he had reached you at this point, wrapped you up in his arms where you stood stiff as a board. 

your thoughts were racing. why didn’t he tell you who was on the phone? what was going on? why was mingyu keeping secrets?

“angel?” he peered down at you, clearly waiting for your answer. 

you shook your head, clearing your thoughts, “i’ll eat whatever, gyu. i’m not picky.” you pulled yourself out of his arms, suddenly feeling suffocated by his embrace for the first time since you met him. “i’m going to shower real quick while we wait for dinner. okay?” 

you didn’t even wait for his reply before you abruptly turned and went back into the bedroom you had just come from. 

in the safety of the ensuite bathroom, you stripped and let your thoughts run wild as the shower warmed up. what was going on? things with mingyu had been so good for the last 3 years. you two were so in love, his members often complained about spending time with the two of you, citing nausea at the sight of mingyu’s lovesick eyes boring into yours. 

you jumped when you heard a knock at the door. 

“angel? can i come in?” you could hear the confusion in his voice. probably wondering why you had suddenly decided on a shower and not engaging in your usual bicker over what to eat for dinner. you two would go back and forth but mingyu always gave in to you, paying for your favorite take-out spot or cooking whatever you requested. 

you didn’t want to alert him to your strange behavior, still not sure exactly what was going on, “yeah, come in.” 

the door cracked open and he peeked his head in the steamy room, eyes searching yours for signs of what was wrong. he could sense it, of course he could. 

he entered the room fully now, not reaching out to you, but fingers twitching at his sides begging to touch all your exposed skin. he stayed respectful though, eyes never leaving yours. “um, i ordered your favorite sushi. hope that’s okay.” 

things were awkward, tense. “yeah. thanks.” 

mingyu sighed, “angel, are you okay? things were okay before you took your nap. did something happen? can i fix it for you?” he was desperate for answers, hating this distance between you two suddenly. he’s not even sure what was going on, he just knew you were not okay. 

you looked away from him, “yeah. i’m okay. just have a bit of a headache. i’m hoping this shower will help. thanks for ordering dinner gyu, i’ll be out soon.” you effectively ended the conversation, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. 

he did.  “okay, angel. love you,” he gave you one last lingering look before closing the door behind him. 

you did everything you could to drag the shower out for as long as possible but you knew you were being a bit ridiculous. mingyu didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and you’re not even sure if he did anything beyond having a suspicious phone call. pulling one of his shirts on over your head, you decided it was time to face him. if you stewed in your thoughts any longer you were actually going to go crazy.

the first thing you noticed walking out of the bedroom was the darkness of the apartment. all the lights were off and the sun had set while you were in the shower. had he left? 

“fuck!” 

that one little word pulled you out of your spiral. he hadn’t left, just turned off all the lights? you were confused, wandering down the hall pausing in the doorway to the living room, yep, lights off in there too. as you reached the kitchen you saw mingyu hunched over the kitchen table, trying and failing to light a candle in the middle of the table. one of many candles he had lit, you realized as you looked around the room. there were little candles all over the room, a soft glow illuminating the dark space. you could see that the sushi had arrived and mingyu set the table, making for a much fancier take-out night than you usually had. 

“hey,” you called from the doorway, softly to not scare the big, clumsy man holding a lighter above your dinner. 

he jumped anyway, spinning around to see you. he was apprehensive, nervous energy pouring off of both of you as you eyed each other. neither of you wanted to upset the other, doing this delicate waltz around each other's feelings. 

he smiled despite himself, “hey angel. feeling better?”

“what is all this?” you ignored his question, very confused as to what was going on. 

his hand went to the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed about all the effort he went to, “well, you said you had a headache so i thought you might like softer lighting in the apartment so your eyes wouldn’t hurt from the overheads.” 

you made him jump a second time when you burst into tears. mingyu stood there looking at you holding your face in your hands, sobs wracking your body, frozen for only a second before he jumped into action, crossing the room in long strides and holding you to his chest. you kept crying, the wet spot on his shirt growing larger and larger.

when your sobs turned to sniffles, he loosened his grip on you. pulling back only enough to look at your face. 

“what is going on, angel? please tell me so i can help.” he was pleading with you, begging even. it hurt him to see you upset like this, especially because he didn’t know what was causing it. 

you couldn’t look into his eyes, instead, you stared at his feet, clad in soft socks, one on either side of yours, caging you in. “why would you do all this for me when you’re keeping secrets?” you sniffled, tears pooling at your lash line, threatening to spill again. 

mingyu blinked, confused, “what are you talking about? what secrets, angel?”

you still couldn’t look at him, “i heard you on the phone earlier. you said, ‘make sure she doesn’t find out.’ what did that mean? and when i asked you who it was you said it was no one. are you keeping secrets from me, gyu?” you felt so small in that moment. all the air around you still as you waited for his answer. 

“angel,” he cooed at you. grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes up to meet his. “you heard me on the phone? that’s what you’ve been upset about this whole time? i didn’t even know you heard that.” 

“you still have not answered my question, mingyu.” 

he winced hearing you use his full name, “angel, i promise you i am not keeping secrets. well, just one. but i was going to tell you soon! it just wasn’t the right time.” 

you tried to back out of his grip but his arms tightened around you, keeping you against him. “we promised not to keep secrets.” 

he laughed, “i can’t exactly tell you about my plan to propose, can i?” 

you went rigid, “you better not be fucking kidding, kim mingyu.” 

“i’m not fucking kidding, angel. that was wonwoo on the phone earlier. he’s been keeping the ring hidden at his place for months. he’s dropping it off tomorrow and we had to coordinate when he could swing by because i didn’t want you to be here. didn’t want to ruin the surprise. guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” he laughed, squeezing you even tighter to him. 

you suddenly felt very stupid. and so guilty. how could you wreck his surprise like this? you felt like crying, “i’m so sorry gyu. i shouldn’t have assumed and now i’ve ruined the whole thing.” 

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “angel, you ruined nothing. you should’ve just asked me in the first place, though. could’ve saved yourself all this heartache.” 

belly full of sushi, comfort show playing on the tv, mingyu by your side, you have never felt more content. you loved this man so much and you couldn’t wait to be his wife. 

“wait, are you proposing tomorrow?” 

[mintaikk]

Why Blitzø Likes Stolas

I've made jokes about Blitzø liking Stolas bcuz his type is tall, rich, powerful demons with musical talent, and that's probably kinda true, but I wanna talk about the real reasons Blitzø likes Stolas. Tldr at the end.

I think one of the major reasons Blitzø likes Stolas is how kind, sincere, and affectionate he is. Stolas is always making sure he is okay and is very passionate about litterally everything he does (dramatic little bitch, lol). And while he's ignorant ("my impish little plaything"???), he does mean well. Taking Octavia to Looloo Land to make her feel better, Going full demon mode to save IMP, his attentiveness to Blitzø during his mental breakdown in Seeing Stars, him absolutely adoring Octavia, him helping Ozzie when he gained no real benefit, etc, etc.

Also, expanding more on the affectionate part, Blitzø is shown to not get much affection or love in his life at all. His family situation was a giant mess (his dad literally sold him for 5 bucks and a condom Jesus Christ-), and Stolas is a very loving and affectionate person. Obviously, this is shown with Blitzø, but also with Octavia ('my precious little starfire', always staying patient with Via, even if he can be a bit dismissive, going full demon mode when Blitzø said he lost Via), and even his plants (he raised the flesh-eating plant since he was a kid, he pets the plant, on his insta he called a puprle rose "a handsome little rose"). And yeah, he's going to be affectione with Via, that's his daughter, but in Hell, (or maybe just from Blitzø's perspective, it'a hard to tell honestly) that's shown to be a rarity. So obviously, he's going to admire that about him.

And also, compare that to Blitzø's life. His dad saw him as less than, something happened that made his sister hate him, his mom seemed to be a good parent, but she's dead, his best friend and former crush hated his guts for 15 years, his daughter does care about him but she also mostly just shows anger and annoyance with him, and even Moxxie, who'd I'd argue is his best friend, gets annoyed with him constantly (I would too tbh but this isn't about that). Stolas just being his loving and affectionate self and being so happy to see him and always being so sweet to Blitzø is like a breath of fresh air to him.

Another thing is that Stolas shows clear interest in the things he likes. Take horses as example, bcuz we all know Blitzø is obsessed with them. Most of the time, his friends are pretty passive about it, but Stolas actually indulges him. Some of this is from their instas, but Stolas got him a horse Hoodie, he draws horses with him, and Stolas even got inspired to draw because of Blitzø.

(Also, plz note that in another post he commented that it smells like Stolas, and I want everyone to appreciate how happy he looks in this photo while smelling it again)

Blitzø probably admires Stolas's theatrics as well because despite growing up in a Circus where you were supposed to be dramatic and showy, he was still always taught to ignore or hide his true emotions (Cash ignoring that he didn't want to go to the Goetia Palace because "MONEY"). And while Stolas was raised the same way, he still wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve and is always showing them, whether it be positive or negative

And we all know thst Blitzø has major self hatred issues, but Stolas was genuinely interested in Blitzø as a person. Laughing at his jokes, asking how his day went, and with all of this, you can't help but wonder if Blitzø was figuring out that he did too. I think that's why he was so heartbroken about Ozzie's. Because to him, Stolas hiding his face was just proof that Stolas didn't care. That he was just a little plaything. But, Blitzø liked that Stolas liked him for who he was, and that he didn't have to pretend to be someone different.

Yes, ik Blitzø wasn't here for some of them, and he thinks that Stolas is just faking all of this. BUT, Blitzø can notice things subconsciously, and the stuff that Blitzø wasn't there for was to talk about Stolas's character as well. That's why I wanted to talk about this, to talk about what Blitzø sees in Stolas and his character.

Feel free to add anything if you want! I'd love to hear your guy's opinions, takes, and thoughts on the ship. I'm probably gonna a make a post on why Stolas likes Blitzø at some point, lol

Tldr; Blitzø likes Stolas because he's kind, sincere, loving, affectionate, passionate, caring, dramatic, and likes Blitzø for who he is.

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 11

wc: 13.2k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), platonic reader + mom!alice

warnings: severe mommy issues, brief touch on food scarcity and trauma, COMPHET, reader scratches her arm and bleeds a little, one use of the word purge in a non food related sense, ben has a gnarly panic attack, very mild dubcon bc mal used mind control on ben without him knowing (she didn't do anything physical with him it was just ethically questionable at the very best and the important thing is ben feels gross about it), ben very briefly contemplates involuntary manslaughter, one use of the phrase "being [someone's] bitch", comfort from reader's mom

summary: Ben and Mal go on a date. You follow a rabbit. All three of you begin to realize things of critical importance.

song recs: dream girl evil - florance and the machine, girls against god - florance and the machine, tell me I'm okay patrick - rachel bloom/crazy ex girlfriend cast, hovering - miley cyrus ft trace cyrus, when you wish upon a star ethereal remix - a.krishna, nothing is every anyone's fault - crazy ex girlfriend cast, when you wish upon a star (music box) - the by8nd, silly lullaby - natasha richardson

a/n: your outfit, your mom's outfit, optional face/voiceclaim for adult alice (it's natasha richardson)

THANK YOU GUYS SO MOTHERFUCKING MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT??????? LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. also as per ush (how do we phonetically spell the first part of usual????) fangz 2 cici 4 betaing lulz mcr rox. btwTHERE IS WONDERLAND TERMINOLOGY USED IN THIS CHAPTER!!!!!!! HERE IS THE GLOSSARY!!!!!!!!!! the tldr from memory is as follows:

brillig = late afternoon around when you would start cooking dinner

nunz = don't go (with a sense of urgancy/immediate importance)

gyre = to spin around and around like a gyroscope

mimsy = flimsy/miserable hybrid word (think sad wet pathetic little mewmew)

gallymoggers = cuckoo bananas crazy

so yeah!!! I think I got everyone from my asks and replies (LOVE YOU ALL SO FUCKING MUCH EVEN YOU SILENT READERS YES I LOVE YOU TOO LURKERS AND LIKERS AND SILENT REBLOGGERS <333 YOU SPECIFICALLY READING THIS RIGHT NOW) so if you wanna be added or I missed you just hoot and holler in the notes!! (or if you wanna be more anon you can message me too I don't mind in the slightest uwu)

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Mal has a lot of reasons to hate herself. She’s weak, sensitive, and incompetent at best on a good day, as her mother likes to say. She has no grit, no spite. She knows this, because she grew up hearing it. One of the last things her mother told her before shipping her off that god forsaken rock was don’t blow it. Mal knew from her words, from the frightening pleasantness in her voice and tension in her eyes what she really meant. The way she clamped her sharp nails down painfully into Mal’s shoulder - from a distance, a maternal and supportive gesture - the weight that this opportunity held. 

If you asked Maleficent for a list of all the things wrong with her daughter, she could easily fill a book. Probably several, but Mal doesn’t think she actually cares enough about her daughter to pay close enough attention to do so. If she found out her mother put that much effort into listing her flaws, she thinks that would be the most mother daughter bonding she’s ever received. She might try becoming worse somehow, just to disappoint her mother further and give her more to work with. 

Many of the things her mother thought of her, she had started to believe over time. But now, Mal finds herself in an unusual, almost funny position of being able to add a new failure, a new flaw to that eternally winding, growing list. 

Mal is getting attention from a boy. And worse, she likes it. 

So really, it’s two for one. 

Being around Ben felt weird at first. He kept trying to kiss her, which was… gross. Mal justified it as being above all that, being too wicked and rotten for mushy gushy matters of the heart. Maybe it’s really because it’s just… too much. It’s all so much, happening so fast. A week or two ago she couldn’t be alone with anyone without trying to figure out who was going to shank who first. 

She knows that’s not how Auradon works, she knows the crime rate here is basically zero, and she wonders if she’ll ever be able to shake that feeling. Like being safe is somehow worse than being in danger. At least danger is familiar. That’s probably why she’s able to strut playfully across the rickety old rope bridge the way she is. Behind her, Ben chuckles nervously, holding tight onto the sides.

It was annoying at first, all the attention. She laughed about it with Evie. Or she tried to, at least. But the more time they spend in this frilly princess infested hellhole, the more Mal notices Evie seeming… different. Their banter and mean spirited jokes that flowed so easily seem to have evaporated overnight. 

She can tell Evie’s not as into it anymore. No one else could, but Mal can. She wonders if this means Evie isn’t as into her anymore. Mal wouldn’t call them friends. She wouldn’t call any of her friends friends. But no one would ever deny the bond, the loyalty between the four of them. The thought of Evie drifting away, pulling back from her like this hurts. It would be so much better if she just full on betrayed Mal, stabbing her in the back and sabotaging her. At least that way, they’d still be speaking the same language.

She thought if anyone would be excited about getting some idiotic prince in her clutches, a figurehead to manipulate and make dance like a puppet, it would be Evie. But now, for the first time in her life, Mal feels like she cares more about boys, about bagging a prince than Evie does. It’s strange. It’s unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and she doesn’t know how to fix it. How to make things normal again. 

It’s not like she could even call Evie out on it, either. She’s being normal enough. Mal could see her beaming ear to ear with that dazzling, blinding smile before she even got the question out of her mouth - will you help me get ready for my… date? She gagged a little when she said that, but Evie was too busy hugging her and talking about what to do with her hair to even notice. When they talked about dresses and blush undertones - something she’s still not sure she fully understands - things were great. They were better than normal, she felt like she and Evie were more in sync than they have been in years. It felt good.

 It’s when she brought up Ben that she noticed Evie’s light dim a little. Her heart just wasn’t in it. So Mal did what she does best. She deflected. She started talking about split ends, and kibbe types, and other stuff Evie has encyclopedic knowledge about that Mal has never even heard of, and just like that - boom. The sparkle was back in Evie’s eyes, the sincerity back in her smile. So Mal swore to herself that she just wouldn’t bring him up. Unfortunately, that’s proving to be easier said than done. 

Ben isn’t making things any easier for her, either. He’s been so nice, so disgustingly kind and considerate that it makes Mal sick. The worst part, the thing that really fills her with dread and sickening disgust is that he’s been like this the whole time. Before this stupid spell and the stupid cookie, before the stupid tourney game. He’s been thoughtful and considerate and kind, and good since the moment they stepped foot out of the limo. If limos don’t normally come filled with candy, that means he was good and kind even before they got to Auradon.

She feels giddy around him. Sick, and giddy. Despite everything, despite a lifetime of training for this, she can’t stop leaning into it, indulging herself. It’s so fucking stupid, she barates herself even as she turns and smiles at Ben, lets him guide her through the forest. 

“Tell me something about yourself you’ve never told anyone,” Ben requests gently, so gently it makes her flinch. For a moment, she’s pulled out of her spiraling maelstrom of self loathing.

“Um…” She hums out loud, silently letting herself revel in this feeling of captivating someone. Not scaring them, not grabbing them by the jaw and locking eyes while hers flare green, imposing her will, but actually having someone want to listen to her. Voluntarily, and not under threat of bodily harm. 

“My middle name is Bertha.” 

Ben chuckles behind her, and she turns back around away from him quickly so she doesn’t have to look at him. She’s not even sure if that’s true, and for the first time, she feels a dull pang of guilt for lying. It sounds stupid, the kind of thing no one would lie about, but Mal doesn’t even know if she has a middle name. She doesn’t know if she has a last name, other than Young Mistress of Evil, but having an embarrassing middle name sounds like something that other normal people her age would experience. 

So she goes with Bertha. 

She makes some little comment about her mom, and it gets a laugh out of Ben, one she tries to laugh along with.

“Mine’s Florian.” Ben says in understanding. “Ben Florian Lemaitre-Alarie Leroy de le Lumme-Mont.” 

Mal turns her head away, but she can still feel his eyes on her. 

“Wow. How princely.” She quips. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, trying to look at her. She starts walking again. “It’s- it’s a mouthful…” 

He follows her closely, and soon they reach the end of the bridge. 

“Okay, close your eyes.” He instructs, placing his hand on her shoulder to stop her. 

Her stomach drops. Her brow furrows, and she shifts away from him on instinct. 

“Why…?” She asks skeptically. 

He pauses for a moment, then laughs sweetly at her reaction. 

“It’s okay, it’s just a surprise.” He says, his voice so earnest she can almost bring herself to believe him. “You’ll be okay. I promise.” 

Sixteen years of muscle memory force her to dig in her heels, to throw his allegedly good word out the window. But against her better judgment, her mind clouded with that squishy sappy dizzy feeling, that contact high she’s been getting from being around him too much, she reluctantly agrees. She knows that Ben won’t harm her because he can’t - not as long as she’s in his head.

She thinks back to the relief that flooded her when she finally pieced the plan together. She had two obvious choices; a love spell, or some sort of mind control. Mind control would have been ideal, she thought. It’s more predictable, plus it will score her some major points with her mother. 

She thought about  how great it would be, following in her footsteps and hypnotizing Ben with incorporeal hypnosis, just like her mother had hypnotized Audrey’s to touch the spinning wheel. 

She tried her hardest, she really had. But it turns out that hypnosis with eye contact or an artifact is already hard enough to begin with. Incorporeal hypnosis is about a thousand times harder. Worse off, Mal had never been able to practice magic a day in her life. All she knew until recently was theoretical second hand knowledge, gleaned from her mother’s drunken recollections of the good old days after a few too many absinth martinis. 

Mal never knew how her mom could drink that stuff. She once tried a pinky dip of the poison ivy infused gin her mother made to use in her drinks, and quickly realized it was a terrible mistake. It tasted like bitter greens and itchy, fiery spice. Her mouth was burned for a week, but her mother could easily down two or three over dinner, insisting the poison ivy gives it just the kick it needs. She asked her mother about it once, and shocked Mal when she actually answered her question instead of glaring or going off on another delusional tangent. 

“Oh, it’s a dragon thing.” She sighed. “Once you’ve had fire in your mouth, nothing tastes strong enough.”

For a moment, Mal could pretend this was what things were always like. They were always a normal mother and normal daughter. She always got advice and anecdotes from her mom. She’d get scolded if she came home scraped up or too late because her mother always cared enough to notice. Then Maleficent grabbed her shoulder, bringing Mal to look out the window at Auradon with her. 

“Someday you’ll know what I mean. After your first time transforming, you’ll understand.” She had chuckled. For a moment, just one moment, Mal dared to see the faintest glimmer of hope on the horizon. Maybe things will get better, her mother will care about her, be proud of her already. 

“Because one day, Mal, we’re going to get out of this dump… and onto the throne. Right where we belong…”

That was the day she’d been forced to let go of that hope. Her mother doesn’t care about her, just that she can have an extra pair of hands, a faster set of reflexes and a sharper pair of eyes. But she never quite let go of making her mother proud. That still seemed like something she could try for. 

That’s how she came up with the whole cookie angle. She found a simple amplification and extension spell, and managed to bake it into a cookie. Once Ben ate it, the spell would be absorbed into his system longer, making it easier to control him. After days and days of research, she came to two conclusions - one shocking, the other terrifying. Shocking was that love spells don’t actually exist. The only ones she could find word of were gimmicky ads in gossip magazines, and even those were few and far between. That’s when the second realization hit. She has to figure out how to make hypnosis work. That’s her only hope, her only chance.

Ben’s hands are strong on her waist, strong enough to make her jump and pull her from the memory that seemed to envelop her out of nowhere, hiding her from the world. She lets him guide her through the unfamiliar terrain. She tries to shake the memories, tries to get rid of that sinking, disorienting, cold feeling. Right now, she has a part to play. She has to be a good girlfriend, she has to get the wand and make her mother proud. 

It’s all part of the plan. It’s part of the evil scheme, that’s why she’s acting so coy and flirtatious, that’s why she’s letting Ben keep his hands on her waist and guide her gently through the forest, his voice soothing in her ear as he instructs her on where to turn and where any rocks and branches might block her path. She keeps telling herself, reminding herself of this because maybe if she tells herself enough, she’ll be able to ignore the fact that she’s enjoying it, leaning into the attention and safe presence of Ben’s big hands and strong chest behind her. 

“Oh, watch your foot… there you go.” He coaxes, guiding her past an overgrown shrub, careful to make sure she doesn’t get scratched up. “You good?”

He asks so gently, so sincerely, that Mal feels herself almost shrinking back a little. 

“Yeah,” she says lightly, with a forced chuckle.

“Good,” he breathes, and she can hear the smile in his voice. He moves her so easily, positioning her so she stands just in front of him, his chest to her back. She doesn’t like how small and… dainty, and pretty, and fragile she feels around him. It’s intoxicating and terrifying.

“Okay,” he says, gentle voice spiking with anticipation. He rubs his hands up and down her arms softly, struggling to stifle his excitement. 

“Ready? Open.” She hesitates, then complies. She sucks in a breath, eyes widening at the most breathtaking thing she’s ever seen. 

Covered in ivy, and vines blooming with morning glory and lilac, an open air greek pavilion sits in the middle of an enticing, crystal clear lake. Even though only half of the pillars and colonnades remain, the circular stone base is solid. Buttery golden sunlight dapples peacefully through the lush flora and plant life all around them, hiding it from sight. 

The lake itself - calm and so blue it’s almost green - is surrounded by rocky, grassy bluffs, just high enough to dive off of. To Mal’s shock, nothing around her looks… menacing. The cliffs aren’t jagged and ominous, the water isn’t murky and threatening. The rocks are smooth. Inviting, even. The crumbling pavilion itself seems like it’s been worn away from time, not from neglect or destruction. There’s no litter or trash, there’s no graffiti, no broken beer bottles or cigarette butts. 

It all seems so… welcoming. Safe, and friendly. Peaceful. After a moment of basking in the haven of tranquility before her, she notices a blanket spread out on the middle of the stone floor. It’s a bright, vibrant blue, and is free of any stains or patches or holes. Laid out on top of the blanket like something from a magazine is a spread of the freshest, juiciest, most wonderful looking food she’s ever seen. 

She gasps softly, turning to look at him, and sees he’s been looking at her the whole time. She studies his face for a moment, trying to figure out if this really is all for her. His smile tells her everything she needs to know. She lets out another breathy gasp as she turns back to the pavilion, feeling like it’s the sort of thing you’re supposed to do in this situation. 

She knows it’s all pretend, playing the part of the pretty damsel like this. The type of girl who’s wanted, who strong, influential people like Ben always protect. Somehow, knowing that it’s pretend doesn’t get rid of the way it feels - the good feelings, or the sickening ones. 

When the rocks have magically moved themselves to form a footpath onto the pavilion, Mal lets Ben guide her some more, and sit her down for their thing. Even thinking the word date still feels strange and uncomfortable. She’s quickly distracted from the uncomfortable knowledge that she’s on a date by how good the food is. 

Good doesn’t even begin to cut it, it’s delicious. Better than that, but she can’t think of anything better than delicious. It’s the kind of food she used to dream about, the kind that would show up in lavish spreads and banquets. She would always stuff her face as much as she possibly could, wanting to get enough before she woke up. Before it could disappear. 

“Is this your first time?” Ben asks softly, a knowing smile on his face. She startles slightly, forgetting he was there for a moment. 

“Um…” She starts, licking the powdery sugar off her fingers. “We don’t really date on the Isle. It’s more like gang activity.”

Ben chuckles, but it’s really not an exaggeration. 

“I meant your first time trying a jelly donut.” He clarifies sweetly. She pauses. She’s rudely awakened by that contextualizing feeling of abnormality. No, everyone doesn’t grow up not knowing their fruits and vegetables. No, everyone isn’t used to living off scraps and whatever can be scrounged together. It’s not a common, shared experience to have soggy boxes stacked up with nutraloaf bars shipped in on rat infested barges as an after school snack. 

She blinks, trying to pull herself back to the present. 

“Is it bad?” She asks cutely. Ben doesn’t chuckle like she expects. It doesn’t seem to land as endearing with him, but as a genuine question. 

“Not-”

Her eyes flare green before he can finish. Once they do, Ben chuckles. He leans closer to her, smiling softly.

Wipe the sugar off her cheek. Caress her. Act like you mean it.

No sooner does she transmute the orders into his mind that he complies. He leans in as he does, more invested in the sticky powdered sugar dusting her lips, and has her mirror his gestures. 

“Go like this…?” He says, licking the sides of his own lips where sugar sits on hers. She does, and he giggles again before reaching over to brush the rest off. Mal smiles, looking away coyly. 

“Can’t take me anywhere, I guess…” She looks away and bats her eyes like she’s seen Evie do before. Even though it’s familiar, it feels staged and contrived. It doesn’t feel natural, but like something that anyone in her position should do, so she does it. She glances down at her hands to look for any remaining sugar, and for the first time she can ever recall, she finds herself bothered by the jagged edges of her bitten nails, the chips in her worn down purple polish. 

Across from her, Ben is looking at the ground near a big old elm tree. Mal adjusts in her seat, but he doesn’t notice. She stares at him more intently, but he’s still looking off into the distance, transfixed by the place where the gnarled roots and lumpy trunk meet the grass. The illusion around Mal begins to crack. The immersion of playing princess to his doting prince starts to slip as she realizes that for the first time since casting the spell, she doesn’t have his full attention. Her expression grows stony with a cold, sick feeling as she watches his distant, almost melancholic gaze fixed on the tree.

“A tumtum what?” He had asked you one day with a chuckle.

“A tumtum tree!” You’d exclaimed back with a smile, as though you were having to explain to him something as common as clouds or air or tea. You had sighed playfully, gesturing with your hands as you explained.

“Tumtum trees have only ever been found in Wonderland. They’re quite large, even their seeds are around the size of your fist. They look like…”

You trail off, trying to think of a suitable comparison. Ben waits. He’s used to this, these pauses in your descriptions of Wonderland. The problem that you’ve found when trying to tell him about your home down there is that not everything is always like something else. It can be quite hard to describe something out of nothing, or nothing out of something. No sooner had the perfect thing popped into your mind.

“An elm tree.” You exclaim with a resolute snap of your fingers. You nod in satisfaction as you clarify, “Like a wych elm tree. A bit, at least.”

“Like which elm tree?” Ben asks, unsure if he had heard you correctly. 

“Exactly.” You nod confidently, drawing a confused, familiar smile from him. Ben watches you in fascination as you continue to describe the trees in question.

“Tumtum trees are usually quite friendly. Good at watching over one when one should find oneself in need of a cat nap.” You state, nodding surely. “Good conversationalists, too.”

Ben lets out a laugh, free and organic from his chest. 

“I forgot trees can talk down there,” he says.

“Some of them,” you say, then nod solemnly. “Some prefer other methods of communication, like pelting those they dislike with acorns, or pollen.”

He laughs again, contagiously, and it begins to spread to you as you continue.

“The most notable thing about tumtum trees is their roots and their bases. They’re usually quite big and tangled, curling in and out in lumpy little nests and sprawling through themselves-”

Ask about her.

It grabs him by the neck, roughly yanking him from his thoughts. He’s pulled from the pleasant memory of you, the voice destructively ripping through his train of thought. 

Look at her. Look at her. You have to know everything about her right now. You’re dying to know everything about her. 

The orders repeat over and over in his mind, his eyes glassy and green for the shortest moment as he’s locked into Mal’s toxic glower. The words begin to ring true. He finds himself burning with an almost painful need to know every possible detail about her. He leans closer to her.

“Tell me everything about yourself.” He asks, only hearing the question for the first time as it leaves his lips.

Mal smiles, acting surprised and flattered by the question she made him ask.

“Well,” she starts with a soft sigh, as if trying to find where to begin, “I’m sixteen. I’m an only child, and… I’ve only ever lived in one place.”

The poisonous light glows from her eyes for a moment, casting strange shadows around them. Ben responds quickly, as if he were waiting for a cue. 

“So am I! We have so much in common already,” he laughs, leaning closer. Mal laughs too, leaning away. 

“No, not as much as you might think.” She glances away, then back up at him. “Anyway, you’re going to be king soon, huh?”

Ben’s laughter grows stale, and he begins to get that distant look again, the same one he had when looking at the elm tree.

“A crown doesn’t make you a king.” He says softly, more to himself than to Mal. 

“Well… it kind of does, yeah.” Mal says dryly. She waits for another laugh, but no laughter comes.

“Your mother is the mistress of evil, my parents are the poster for goodness, but-” he hesitates, searching for the right words. “That doesn’t mean we’re automatically like them.” 

He finishes quietly, eyes falling down to his signet ring. Even with his mind a blank slate, weaved around Mal’s fingers like an obedient snake, he can still feel all the pressure, all that he has to live up to. Everything he wants to be is still right on the horizon. 

“We choose who we’re going to be.” He finishes softly.

Across from him, Mal’s heart pounds. She didn’t make him say any of that. She didn’t tell him to, he did it himself. He said that she’s not like her mom. He said that. Her heart pounds, and she wants so badly for him to say it again. His words ring in her mind like a bell, over and over. We choose who we’re going to be. No one had ever said that, or anything remotely like that to her before. No one had ever made her believe it. 

Those strange shadows dance across Ben’s face again, and Mal squeezes her trembling hands, trying to calm herself. 

Say it again, Ben. Tell her. Say she’s not evil. Say it. Tell her right now. Tell her she’s not evil. You don’t think she’s evil.

He leans in even closer. He moves his hand onto her cheek. He locks eyes with her, oblivious to the shared glowing green light between them. 

“I can look into your eyes and… tell you’re not evil.” He says with certainty. “I can see it.”

He moves closer, letting his eyes drift shut softly, tilting his head to the side-

Mal jerks away, letting go of the active control with a sudden drop. She lets out an uncomfortable laugh, scooting away from him. The pressure on his chest eases, and it almost feels like he can think again. Having a modicum of control over his thoughts and actions again, he stands up. He nods his head, gesturing for Mal to join him. 

“Come on. Let’s go for a swim.”

“Uh-” Mal falters, eyes darting between Ben and the water. “Um, no. I think I’m okay.”

“It’ll be fun,” Ben coaxes with a smile. 

“I- I think I’m gonna stay behind and try a strawberry. I’ve literally never had a strawberry before.”

She grabs a nice juicy berry and bites in, humming performatively for Ben. It takes a moment for the flavors to explode in her mouth. She can’t believe something so delicious could come from a plant. It’s so sweet, and a little bit tangy, but in a good way. It’s a different sort of sweet than sugar, though. She can’t put her finger on exactly what it is, but there’s a light twist, a depth and complexity to the taste that she never could have imagined. It somehow tastes like a bright clear morning and a darkening rich sunset all at the same time.

“Mmmh…” She hums, for real this time, taking another bite. She eats the whole berry - stem and leaves included - and Ben chuckles softly. He says something she doesn’t catch, then goes off to swim. The moment he leaves, Mal has only two things on her mind. 

Strawberries are fucking delicious, and Evie is going to love this. All of this. Picnics, strawberries, pagodas or pavilions or whatever the hell they’re called. She can see it clear as day; taking Evie out here with Carlos and Jay, the two of them can sit and talk while the boys are off splashing in the water. Evie will be so excited that she makes her and Mal matching sundresses in their colors - blue and gold, and purple and green. 

They can eat strawberries and laugh when the juice gets everywhere. They can throw shells and tourney balls into the lake for Carlos and Jay to get to keep them busy while she and Evie talk. Mal will scoff and laugh and roll her eyes when Evie reminds them all to wear sunscreen. She and Carlos will agree, but Jay will insist he doesn’t need any, and they’ll spend the following week treating his sunburn. Evie will insist on braiding Jay’s hair or twisting it up into some kind of bun or ponytail so it doesn’t get tangled. 

She’ll make Mal hold all the bobby pins and hair ties, and she’s sure Evie will have some sort of goop to put in Carlos’s hair so the water doesn’t turn it green. What’s that called again? Evie had been going on and on to Mal before they left for Auradon about how some water can turn blonde hair green. Cholera? Fluorine? Chlor… chlorine maybe? Yeah, that sounds right. There’s no chlorine in the water in the Isle, but since it can affect your hair, Mal’s not surprised that Evie knows everything about it. She doesn’t know if lake water has chlorine, but she’s sure if hair is on the line that Evie will be cautious. 

She’s only pulled from her hazy strawberry high when the berries have run out. She catches a remaining drop of strawberry juice on her finger from the edge of the bowl, and brings it to her lips. She looks around and sees Ben on top of one of the taller grassy bluffs. He waves at her, and after a moment she waves back hesitantly. She looks at his swim trunks, then yells across the lake.

“Are those little crowns on your shorts?”

Ben smiles a little, remembering when you had helped him pick them out. 

“Maybe,” he calls back. 

He lets out a loud, animalistic roar, then jumps.

She looks away before he hits the water. Her eyes fall down to the empty bowl of strawberries, the ones Evie would love. The ones Ben provided her with. She starts to relax a little now that he’s not watching her. Her facade, her perfect princessy persona starts to slip. She relaxes - her shoulders, her jaw, her posture, the grip she keeps on Ben. 

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to reorient herself, to figure out how she feels. She’s so confused, unused to acting sweet - at all, but especially around other people. She has to keep it together. She needs to use these few minutes of Ben swimming to make sure she has her head on straight and her eyes on the prize. She has to stay focused, stay grounded. 

She clenches her fists so tightly that her nails, bitten short and chipped with a deep plum polish, dig into her palms. 

She hopes the slight sting will get her head back where she needs it. The pain is good. A reminder of where she came from, what she’s here to do. She tries, but this time, it’s not enough. Not anymore. She shakes her head a little, hoping it will clear her mind, make her feel like herself again. Her hair is fried under all the purple dye, and she can tell it’s growing frizzy from the humidity and movement. She lets out an annoyed huff, and reaches up, trying to fuss with it until it looks like Evie made it look before. 

Are you kidding? The thought shows up suddenly as she catches herself worrying about her hair of all things. Realization sets in that not even that is enough to snap her back to herself. A sense of shame washes over her as she realizes how deep in all this she’s getting. In the moments after that realization, her mind begins to wander. It goes further and further from anything she had ever let herself think before. 

Maybe she could… make this work. Maybe there’s a shot at pulling it off. If she could keep Ben under her spell a little longer than necessary, she could make him fall in love with her for real. She can implant so many thoughts and repeating orders until it scrambles his brain and… makes it real somehow. Then he’ll want to look after Mal on purpose, not on principle. He can get her and her friends into witness protection or something, get some guard gargoyles and knights to watch over them.

She can talk Ben into giving her a little cottage deep in the woods - it will be safest for them there anyway. And that’s what he wants, for them to be safe. He wants that because Mal wants that, and when a prince like Ben loves someone, he makes sure they have whatever they want most. And what Mal wants most is a safe, secure, roomy cottage in the woods for her and Evie, Jay and Carlos. They’ll have a little lake just like this one, and maybe like, some ducks or something. Cats, or snakes, or whatever makes a good pet. 

Jay can chop the firewood, and Carlos can fix the computers whenever they get weird. Mal still barely understands how to use smartphones and dropbox, but Carlos has taken to all that stuff like… well, like his mom takes to furs. She’ll make sure there’s a nice big room for Evie to sew, and she won’t complain as much when Evie uses her as a dress form. They’ll have more delicious, fresh food than they can eat, and they won’t need to worry about any of this anymore.

She’ll reluctantly let Evie teach her how to use blush, and style hair. 

They’ll sit in the nice sunshine in the fresh clean air all day. She’ll make Evie crowns from all the pretty flowers that grow here so she can have as many crowns and tiaras as she wants, and Jay and Carlos can play tourney and climb trees and do whatever else they’re always doing. She can see it clear as day; Evie’s head resting in Mal’s lap while Mal uses her spellbook to weave together flowers, enchanting them to make them sparkle while Jay and Carlos laugh and roughhouse nearby. 

They’ll still share bedrooms. That’s the one thing Mal has actually kind of liked since moving to Auradon, sleeping in the same room as Evie. Getting to be close to her. She’s sure Jay and Carlos sleep better knowing they’re not by themselves, too. Maybe if the cottage is kind of small she and Evie can share a bed. She’d be fine with that. They’ll bake non magic cookies and eat strawberries, Evie will have all the ingredients she needs to make every kind of face mask and hair mask and lotion she could dream of. 

Ben will come and check in on them sometimes. Not very often, just once in a while. He’ll stop by and make sure they’re safe and protected and left alone all the time, because that’s what princes do when they’re in love with someone. They’ll never leave unless they want to, and they’ll have VIP tickets to all the balls and galas and sporting events in Auradon. Mal will go with them, because she knows things wouldn’t be the same if she stayed behind. Even though parties are boring and sports are dumb. But as long as Evie’s having a good time, she’s sure she can handle it. 

If only… if only she could figure out that it’s a sure thing. Then she’d be all the way in. 

You can’t recall a time your heart pounded in your chest like a jackrabbit as it does now, as you tread through roots and bushes and grassy forest terrain to the enchanted lake. You’ve been following the white rabbit who had alerted you to Ben’s whereabouts until you arrived at the lake. You find a little hidey-hole in the brush and gnarled roots of an old elm tree within eyeshot of the pavilion, and crouch down. You can almost make out what he’s saying, but not quite.

You fumble for your teapot bag, digging around for something you’re sure must still be in there. 

“Come on, come on…” you murmur frantically. You let out a gasp as your fingers close around the monocle, and you pull it out quickly. You’d pawned it off a ring of ring-a-ding worms in Wonderland several months ago. You weren’t sure how trustworthy they were - which usually means not very trustworthy at all if you’re doubting it in the first place - but you simply couldn’t help yourself. The monocle was a very old sort of subtitling spectacle, a kind of eyewear that lets you see what people are saying. They’re not always right, nor are they always perfect, but right now you’re desperate.

“Please please work,” you ask the glass silently before holding it up to your left eye. You squint at Ben and Mal, and between the fragments of conversation reaching your ears and the monocle, you’re able to understand things a bit better. 

“...You’re not evil. I can see it.” Ben says to Mal, as you watch and listen to his words intently. The sun is closer to setting and brillig draws nearer, basking everything in that not quite sunset glow. You try to crawl closer to see and hear better, not even noticing when you nearly lose one of your shoes in your efforts. You rub your eyes in disbelief, waiting to see what they say next. An elm leaf falls, tangling itself in your hair, and you find yourself unable to believe what you’re seeing. If you were using two monocles, you would surely dismiss it as the subtitle spectacles breaking. Unfortunately, there’s no disguising the truth you see before you. 

Ben leans in to kiss Mal, and you recoil backwards, suddenly and in shock. Your stomach twists in that terrible way, and you’re sure you’re going to be sick. You grip the grass tightly, hoping it will stop your head from spinning. This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense, or nonsense at all. The world around you makes positively nothing. You can deal with chaos, with spontaneity, but this? This is just cruel. The world is… mean for making you live through this. 

You summon a rabbit hole back down to Wonderland faster than you can blink. You tumble down, dirt sprinkling down on you as you fall. Right before you’re swallowed by the earth, you scratch your arm on a rough patch of bark and roots. You catch a glimpse of your blood and tears falling in beads before you’re shrouded in darkness, blurry and delicate. They dance together like pained flurries of your heart and mind’s shared turmoil. You let yourself fall carelessly, the stuffy air disturbed by your stifled sobs slipping out where you don’t want them to. 

You don’t plan on staying long at all. You just need a few moments to collect yourself, to gather your thoughts. You take in a few deep, heavy breaths, your brow furrowing with determination. You must overcome this. You must stay focused. You have to if you’re going to have any chance at helping Ben. You let out a sharp breath with a sharp little noise attached to it, and you can feel your head coming back in place. There will be time to deal with all of this, there will be time to cry, but that time is not now.

The second Mal turns away and pulls her face from his gentle embrace, Ben takes in a deep, panting breath, feeling like his chest is suddenly less tight than it had been. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he feels the absence of his contracting muscles and shallow breaths now that they’re gone. He immediately looks back over to that elm tree, the one he was looking at before. For a moment, just a moment, he could swear he saw your fingertips, the ends of your hair, the dark glint of your silky blackberry bow falling into the earth. But he blinks, and whatever might have been there or not is gone too quickly to tell.

He shakes his head a little, hoping to reorient himself, but a breeze blows by and he could swear on anything there’s a trace of your scent carried in the air. The faintest hint of something so quintessentially you - your perfume, your smell, your blood. His chest squeezes again, this time with longing. 

He’s about to realize how long it’s been since he saw you, about to realize this is the longest he’s gone without even speaking a word to you, but something drags him back, keeping his thoughts here and now. He turns back to Mal, with that dull, throbbing headache he hasn’t been able to shake since the tourney game. 

“Let’s go swimming.” 

The enchanted lake is one of Auradon’s hidden gems. It was a gift to the newly united front of Auradon as a whole from the gods of Olympus; a thank you, an offering of goodwill for assisting in the containment of Hades. Hercules and Megara had gone through many lengthy strategy sessions and battle plans with Adam and Belle, trying to figure out how to prevent Hades from another attempt to overthrow Olympus. Adam and Belle knew that Hades was dangerous - he is a god after all - but they had no idea the extent and reach of his power. 

The First Villain Uprising was a dark time that spread over many years. Most people know the events of VU1; the poison apples, the sleeping curses and dark magic. They’re familiar enough with the coups and the curses, the unregulated dark magic running rampant through the land, wielded by power hungry loonatics. Villains. Brave leaders and heroes in countries from down near the Southern Isles to way up north in Winter’s Keep refused to cower in the face of evil. They did everything they could to stop it, and for many years the villains were presumed dead. 

The problem came from all the different countries not having a united front, not communicating with each other. There was no teamwork, no global council, so no one knew that the moment Maleficent was pierced through the heart by the sword of truth was the same moment Hades had managed to claw his way out of the river styx. The first thing he did once he got his bearings was drag Maleficent down to the underworld. She wasn’t dead, not quite yet, and they both saw the opportunity before them. A combination of Maleficent’s dark fairy magic and Hades’ rule over the souls of the dead meant they could drag the worst villains back from the depths. 

That was the start of the Second Villain Uprising. 

When the rulers figured out what was happening, they knew they had to band together, be stronger as a whole. That’s when Adam gathered up as many kings and queens as he could to start planning the first crusades. Fairy Godmother sent word out to the most powerful wizards and fairies and sorcerers she could, pleading for them to join the fight against evil. 

It didn’t take long to start rounding up villains, but they needed somewhere to put them. Eventually, Fairy Godmother devised a plan. With the help of Merlin of Camelot, Yensid of Schwartzvald, the Great Genie of Agrabah, and the Three Good Fairies of the Moors, they were able to create a magic barrier around an abandoned isle off the southern coast of Belle and Adam’s kingdom. This became known as the Isle of the Lost, the only secure place where villains and all the evil they bring with them can’t escape. 

As a thank you to the mortals down below, the gods gifted them with the enchanted lake, right in the heart of Auradon. Each god added a blessing or a gift of some kind, which is how it got such steadfast healing properties and good magic. The lake itself is magical, which is something that Belle and Adam decided not to advertise during the aftermath of the expulsion of evil. 

There was so much terror and fear in the land, people afraid of something going wrong, of some new villain popping up right when they let their guard down. Adam and Belle decided to keep the lake’s properties under wraps for the most part, preemptively stopping any attempts to stockpile or weaponize magic purely to get the upper hand in a magic cold war that has long since ended. 

The cleansing and healing properties of the enchanted lake are simplistic, but effective. Ben remembers a time when he was young, there was a brief few weeks when Adam seemed to lose control over shifting his form from man to beast. His condition was ultimately traced back to stress, a comorbid symptom of some nasty migraines, and high cholesterol. 

Rumors of his condition began to circulate, and Adam found himself splashed across the covers of gossip rags on newsstands and store checkouts. Fairy Godmother was able to fix him right up, and instructed him to fully submerge himself in the enchanted lake once a week for about a month or so. He followed her instructions to the letter, and was soon back to rights.  

As he stands on the small cliffside overlooking the serene, enticing water, Ben’s not sure what jogged that memory, or why it’s at the front of his mind right now. He shakes his head a little, but it keeps coming back, tugging at him like a child vying for their fathers attention. 

“Are those little crowns on your shorts?”

Ben glances over at the pavilion where Mal sits. He looks down, then chuckles.

“Maybe,” he calls back. Their eyes lock as Mal gathers her thoughts. Ben can feel it, the tightness coming back in his chest. Before it reaches all the way up to his head, his instincts kick in. He lets out a loud roar, then he jumps.

The water hits his skin. Instead of cool and refreshing, just the way he remembers it, it feels like a freezing cold burn. The world goes quiet as he sinks deeper and deeper into the lake, eyes widening in shock at the unpleasant, almost painful feeling. His skin burns, and he scratches at his arms and legs and chest. His hands move, frantic and sluggish in the water as he itches his neck, then his cheeks, then his head…

He freezes, muscles relaxing, limbs falling still as the water soothes him and purges the last of the fizzing magic out of him. He had no clue what was happening until it was over, and now, hovering underwater, it’s over. He knows he can’t have been down there for too long, but it’s when his instincts scream at him to hyperventilate that he realizes he’s still underwater. His eyes widen, and he fumbles, swimming to a rock hidden from the shore. 

He drags himself out of the water, chest heaving, body shaking. The surface of the rock is smooth, but he struggles to maintain his balance. He manages to flip over and lean back on the rock, praying for some stability. His free will, his mind, his cognizance is all coming back to him at once. He feels like a computer flashing a blue screen from too many programs running and downloading at the same time. 

He clutches his chest, unable to control his breathing. The disorientation starts to fade and his eyes widen with horror as the reality of the situation starts to set in, cutting through the painful panic gripping him. Mal… drugged him. Or worse, cursed him. His stomach drops, twisting sickeningly, his hands trembling out of control. He’s not normally like this. He never lets himself get like this. He heard stories about extremely powerful villains being able to use mind control or hypnosis on rare occasions, but he never expected it to feel so… violating. 

His gaze drifts downward to the rippling water. No one can know about this. This can never get out. If even a whisper of this gets out, the consequences and aftermath would suffocate him. She just jeopardized the entire future of the United Republic of Auradon. She could very well have just pounded nail after nail into the coffin containing the lives and futures of all those poor kids stuck on the Isle, the ones she claimed to care so much about. She may have destroyed lives, futures, an entire nation, for… what? 

He tries to figure out why. Why would she do this? She has to have some sort of motivation for reaching into his brain and jerking him around like a puppet, making a fool of himself in front of the public. Oh god- he thinks, remembering the tourney game. He never acts like that. He never acts erratic or impulsive. What must his parents think of him? What must you be thinking of him right now? Or the entire country? 

His throat tightens up as he starts to panic again, mind already clouded by the doom of plummeting in the polls. He’s unopposed for king, but after a disaster like this, who would want him? Someone else will run and win, because no one in their right mind would trust someone who voluntarily lets themself become a villain’s personal sock puppet to run a goddamn country! He breathes harder, flexing his fists open and closed until his knuckles go white. Why would she do something like this? What does she want from him, a second date?

He pauses. That must be it. A new wave of rage overcomes him as he realizes - unless he’s given a miraculously better explanation for this - that Mal pressed a self-destruct button for the entirety of Auradon because she has a crush on him. A stupid, goddamn teenage crush. And now his political career will be over before it could ever start because of it. He’s going to be the first king to be impeached before he’s crowned. He can’t stop spiraling, can’t stop the racing thoughts drowning him above the water. 

A loud, animalistic roar tears from his chest. It’s much more primal, more beast-like than he ever allows himself to be, but he supposes that it’s understandable for something like that to slip out given the circumstances he finds himself in. 

“Breath,” he tells himself, swallowing thickly. “Breathe.”

If he can’t get his head right, if he can’t be smart about this, it… well, that’s not even an option. He has to collect himself. He has to live up to the person his parents think he is, his country thinks he is, that you think he is. He has to be that person. He only has a few moments of this realization to reorient himself before he hears Mal’s voice. 

Instead of enticing and distracting like it had been before, now it feels like the lure of an angler fish’s light in the murky depths, it feels jarring. He shudders, recoiling like she just threw glass at him. She calls out for him again. This time, he can hear the spike of fear carried along in her voice as it echoes across the lake. Is she hurt? In trouble? He starts to go check on her, then for a moment, he hesitates.

All the thoughts racing through his mind like the piston cup find their way to the forefront of his head again. His chest aches as he relentlessly beats himself up over this. How could he let this happen? This is exactly what his parents warned him about, what he promised them - gave them his word - that he would not let come to fruition. And yet, here he is, sitting on a rock with the livelihoods of innocent people at risk because of him and his naive, stupid optimism. 

This, the wellbeing of all innocent people of Auradon, is what he’s devoted all of his time and power and care and focus and everything else he’s got within him into. All that work, all that potential for good, and now he lays paralyzed below the sword of Damocles. He can only stand there, watching the ropes fray one after another. 

“I can’t…” he pants, chest squeezing in terror again. “I can’t let this happen.”

He swallows hard, muttering to himself.

“Can’t let them win.”

He can’t let Mal achieve whatever the hell her endgame is here. He has to stop this before it gets worse. And above all, this cannot become known to the public. He can see the faces of disappointment and fear on the members of the council, on the senate. He was never ready to be king, they’d say in hushed, justified tones, the boy is a fool! How could we let him bring evil into our homes on purpose?! 

The voices in his head go on and on, painting the worst outcome possible in vibrant colors. The nation will lose any trust or faith they might have had in him. More painfully, he realizes how deeply disappointed his parents will be in him. The kind so irreparable that they can never even speak of it. His father will go silent, his mother will try to smile at him, but her tears will give her away. Disappointing his parents, disappointing you…

Oh god, you. Where are you? Where have you been during all of this? You and Ben are usually joint at the hip, but he hasn’t seen you in days. The realization makes him feel sick, like he’s just come to the realization that he hasn’t had air to breathe. What have you been doing without him? Have you been in Wonderland, or at the Wonderland Embassy with your mother? Why haven’t you texted him? Or at least called? Worse fears attack him relentlessly from the inside out, worse than ruining innocent lives or his political career because these fears are about you. 

A scream, followed by a large splash, then another more fearful scream pierce his senses, pulling his attention out of the momentary panic over you and your wellbeing. It must be Mal, he thinks, it has to be. She’s the only other person out here. She must have gotten into the water to look for him, but why does she sound like she’s struggling? He listens intently for a moment. She definitely sounds like she’s struggling. He stands up to jump into the water and find her, but before he can, something unusual happens. 

He hesitates.

After everything she’s done to him, and to the people of Auradon, after she stabbed him in the back and violated his free will for days, should he even bother trying to help her? What if this is part of some elaborate ruse, luring him into a trap by pretending to drown. Maybe she’s going to turn him into a bug and trap him in a jar, letting him suffocate slowly while she shakes it and laughs. 

What if she just… had an accident? Anyone could drown in a lake if they weren’t being careful, and he’s sure children of villains aren’t raised to be super cautious. Maybe it would be better that way. It would certainly give Ben one less problem to worry about, one less moving part to constantly keep track of. 

He dives back into the lake, swimming towards her. He bites his cheek, dismissing the fleeting, impulsive thought as quickly as it could intrude into his stream of mind. He’s not even going to waste time considering it or letting it argue his case. He knows who he is, and he knows who he chooses to be. He is never going to choose to be the kind of person who lets someone else get hurt when they can do something about it. 

If he can help anyone - regardless of who they are or what they’ve done to him - he’s going to. Even if it’s from a distance, he can’t knowingly be complicit in tragedy befalling anyone. That’s why he’s bringing over the kids from the Isle in the first place. He can’t sleep at night knowing that there are people struggling and suffering while he has the power to do something about it. 

He has to give his parents credit for raising him to have such strong moral character. That’s why, against his better judgment, he swims as fast as he can back to the pavilion. It only takes a moment for him to see her, kicking and flailing mere feet from the pavilion.

He dives as deep down as he can. He hopes that the longer he’s under the water, the more submerged he is, the less likely any more magic she tries on him will succeed. Or at the very least, she’ll have less time to try and pull something on him. His hand skims the bottom of the lake, brushing against something uncharacteristically sharp. He sees a cluster of glowy crystal like geodes - a wishing stone, he realizes. He grabs it, and shoves the rock into the pocket of his swim trunks. 

It’s not much, it’s barely anything really. But he’s sure any mildly sharp object is infinitely better than nothing when facing off against an unpredictable dark fairy. Trying to use a wishing geode to defend himself from dark fairy magic - either as a magic shield or a physical weapon - is like trying to use an umbrella in a hurricane. He’s really going into this blind, but at least he’s aware of the disadvantage he’s working against. In spite of all the massive errors and failures he seems to have accumulated out of nowhere, he can at least say he’s not stupid enough to be entirely unarmed at a time like this.

He can see Mal, splashing and thrashing about, slipping below the surface as she loses her footing. He rushes closer and grabs her, scooping her up and confidently walking them both out of the lake. He catches his breath, focusing everything he’s got on one thing - he cannot let Mal know that he knows. He has to keep his face neutral, act sweet and normal, not say or do anything that could possibly tip her off. He’s in the lion’s den, and one wrong move could ruin everything beyond repair. 

He silently thanks his parents for years and years of diplomatic training, for teaching him how to maintain his composure no matter how overwhelming his emotions are, no matter how much pressure and scrutiny he finds himself under. He reaches the pavilion in just a few steps, and sets Mal down gently. She doesn’t seem to notice anything about his behavior is different, so he keeps doing what he’s been doing. It seems to be working so far, which provides him with the briefest sense of relief. 

“Ugh!” She shrieks. He shakes the water out of his hair, trying to clear his head, and she swats at his chest, “You scared me!”

Ben falters for a moment, nearly letting a grimace loose at the nauseating feeling of disgust permeating him from this, from having to be so close and sweet to her after she violated his mind, his free will. And she did it on purpose. 

“Uh,” he starts, trying with everything he’s got to sound so light and casual, like she made him sound before. “You… you can’t swim?” 

It’s really not that important to either of them right now, but it’s the first thing he can think of that doesn’t start with why the hell or how the hell or jail. 

“No!” She yells indignantly, like it should be obvious. 

“But you live on an island.” He notes. He never would have been able to challenge her under the curse she cast on him, not even something as small as asking why she can’t swim. He watches her expression closely, wondering if she’ll notice.

“Yeah, with a magic barrier around it, remember?” She demands incredulously. There’s a shrill tone to her voice with a venomous sting, like Ben was the one who cast her out and put up the barrier himself. He flinches at the sound of her voice.

She can’t swim. She nearly drowned looking for him, and he let himself consider allowing it to happen. A stab of unwelcome but justified guilt catches him off guard for a moment, causing him to falter. 

“And… you still tried to save me.” He murmurs solemnly, mostly to himself. 

He hates this. He hates that she did something so horrible and so kind to him right after each other. It’s tempting to dismiss her searching for him in the lake, to let himself focus only on the pain and damage she’s caused in such a short time, and he tries desperately to cling to his moral values. Values that he’s always sworn to himself he will never abandon, no matter how hard or complicated things get.

Now here he stands, looking hard and complicated square in the purple framed face. 

People are nuanced, he tells himself, trying to remember it. Nobody is all good or all bad. People… people are complicated. It’s a hard philosophy to hold onto, and an even harder one when you’re the one that’s been made a fool of, made to dance around in public and cater to her every whim. It’s hard to remember that people are nuanced, not all bad when you’ve been made into someone’s bitch. 

“Yeah, and do you thank me?” Mal demands rhetorically, “No!”

He struggles to follow her. Her voice makes him flinch, buzzing around his head like an angry hornets nest. It makes his ears ring. He feels that strange, painful headache stirring up again - the one that got worse and worse every time she forced her voice into his mind. 

“All I get is soaking wet!” 

She looks at him expectantly, then huffs. It sounds exactly like the noise Audrey would make when she wanted something that wasn’t handed to her instantly. A new wave of indignant rage begins to bubble and boil up inside him as he realizes what she wants. She wants him to grovel. She wants him to apologize, and kiss her hands, and beg for everything to be smoothed right over. He swallows hard, managing to contain it. Just barely.

In a split second, he realizes he has to do something. The more time they spend together, the sooner Mal will realize she doesn’t have control over him again. If she finds out, that will open up more trouble than Ben would care to count. He has to pacify her, just enough to get them both home as fast as possible. Before she can do anything else to him. 

He reaches into his pocket, handing her the geode. 

“And this, uh… this fancy rock.” 

His stomach twists, spiking with anxiety as he offers it to her. Wishing stones - also called wish geodes - are a natural and common byproduct of fairy magic. They can vary in strength and appearance based on what fairy they came from, and since they usually form underground or by bodies of water, they can be hard to find. They’ve become even harder to source in recent years as less and less people use magic - fairies included. 

The ones near Auradon are from Fairy Godmother’s magic. The ones way up north in Schwartzvald are from the mainland forest fairies deep in the Fantasia Woods, the ones out west are from the Blue Fairy, and any wish geode you find on the northeastern coast will always be from Flora, Fauna, or Merriweather. Since wish geodes are essentially nature’s way of recycling magic leftovers, they’re usually not too strong. Unless they were charged up with something, like a blessing, or a falling star, or enchanted spring water from Olympus. 

Ben, however, is painfully unaware of this. He hasn’t studied magic and magic theory as extensively as you have. He suspects sometimes that you may know more about magic than the good fairy herself. He does know some introductory magic theory, and a few little facts from you that he’s remembered over the years. 

What he does know is that wishes and hypnosis or mind control or whatever the hell Mal did to him are two completely different kinds of magic. He knows that if he gives Mal the stone, even if she did wish for something, it couldn’t possibly do more damage than she’s already done. At this point, it’s the lesser of two evils. Really, it’s the only viable option he’s got. The geode shimmers and glitters, glowing softly against her skin in a luminous pearly hue. She glares up at him, and he plasters on a smile. Hopefully, a convincing one. He gestures back behind him. 

“Make a wish, and throw it back in the lake.”

Unless her goal of hypnotizing him was to somehow end up with a good grade on the next test, or a really good hair day, this rock will do nothing for her. It’s just not strong enough on its own, which makes it the perfect placebo. Mal scowles up at him, and winds up to throw the rock bitterly into the lake. 

In that moment, her heart’s unsung desires cry out desperately, begging for something that not even her mind can grasp. I wish what he said was true, her heart cries, that he doesn’t think I’m evil. I wish Ben would keep being nice to me, even after I break the spell. I wish Ben would defend me from all the people who act like they’re afraid of me, I wish he would make me feel like I belong here!

The rock sinks into the water, bubbling and glowing as her desires are realized. A soft whispered voice floats into the air, seeming to speak only to her.

“Malorie Valda Faery, Princess of the Moors and Young mistress of Evil… your wish has been heard, and your wish has been granted. So long as you do not act on the evil inside your heart, and stay trustworthy, honest, and kind, he shall see no evil inside you.” 

It’s so faint, so hard to hear that she thinks she must have imagined it. She falters, thrown off guard for a moment, then stands up and shakes off some of the water still clinging to her. The glowing water swirls and pools around Ben. An almost ticklish, tingling feeling floats down onto him. It’s so light and so soft, it’s gone so quickly that he struggles to remember if it really happened.

He takes in a breath, his brow softening as he realizes the panic is retreating. A breeze blows by, carrying the scent of magnolia and the impending night air that quickly makes its way closer to them as the sun sinks. Little goosebumps prickle down Ben’s arms and back as his defenses begin to relax back to normal. He picks up his varsity jacket to wrap around Mal, and grabs a towel for himself. The last thing either of them need right now is to catch a cold. 

He takes a few more breaths as she sits down, mildly puzzled at why it’s so easy to breathe now, but so difficult just a few moments before. He searches every crease and crevice of his mind for what was bothering him before. He doesn’t usually struggle to remember what he was thinking about, but this particular thing just seems to evade him, like a child playing hide and seek. He knows it was important, really important, but he just… can’t remember. He looks down at Mal in hopes of jogging his memory, but seeing her sit there, all sad and wet and swallowed up by his jacket, all he feels is a pang of sympathy. 

He feels himself relaxing, his reflexes softening from a state of panic to their usual level of low, constant background anxiety. Look at her, he thinks, does she really look like she wants to overthrow an entire country? The question is rhetorical, and the answer clear. No. She just wants a home, somewhere to fit in. She looks so small, so vulnerable and powerless like this. He chastises himself for letting himself lose sight of why he brought her and her friends to Auradon in the first place.

She’s here to grow, to heal - they all are. Of course she’s going to make some silly mistakes like spray painting her locker, or cutting class, or using magic to get Ben to go out with her. Besides, with coronation coming up so fast, it makes sense that she would feel like she couldn’t find an opportunity to ask Ben out without a little extra help. That’s all this is, a silly mistake. It’s nothing to be blown out of proportion, really. He sighs, sitting across from her, feeling a dull nudge of something that could grow into fondness with time.

He reaches over to fix her hair, and she looks up at him. She searches his eyes, desperately looking for any signs of hate or change in how he views her. That’s what this is, he confirms to himself. She just has a crush on him is all. He would never say that to anyone, he wouldn’t run the risk of embarrassing someone dealing with such delicate feelings, but it does make sense. She said herself just a while ago, dating on the Isle is more like gang activity than picnics and drive in movies. Of course she wouldn’t know how to talk to someone she likes, how to find ways to spend more time with them. 

Ben almost chuckles at the thought, the idea of her trying to figure out how to enchant her crush into liking her back. It’s sweet, really. Nothing malicious at all. Besides, everybody knows that love magic doesn’t exist, there is no such thing as a love spell. So if she still doesn’t know that yet, could her knowledge of magic really be that dangerous? It can’t possibly be. She just used a harmless little spell to speed things up a little. No one would ever act out like that if it wasn’t for some matter of the heart or other. It’s almost flattering in a strange way.

He decides to test his theory, letting his fingertips linger in her damp, sugar plum hair, twirling it lightly.

“Mal?” He starts, getting her attention. 

“I, uh… I told you that I loved you. At the tourney game.” He says, jogging her memory. He looks at her, studying her face. “What about you?”

This is perfect, he thinks, this is the most opportune way to offer her a way to tell him how she feels, get it all off her chest. 

“Do you love me?” He prompts.

Normally, he would never be this direct with someone. But he feels it’s warranted, given the circumstances. It’s taken many years for him to learn to trust his gut with things like this, and he’s not going to doubt himself now. Yes, what she did was bad - unforgivable, even - but at the end of the day, she’s just a hormonal teenage girl with a crush. She can’t possibly be faulted for that, for having feelings. 

“I…” Mal starts, swallowing thickly and looking away from him again. She clutches the sides of his jacket, pulling it tighter around her. It smells soapy, like it’s too clean. She knows she should probably be feeling something, but she has no goddamn clue what it is - much less how to recognize and articulate it. She feels… queasy. Kind of shaky and sweaty. Are you supposed to feel like that when a boy says I love you? That has to be the feeling that people are always talking about, getting butterflies in your stomach. Mal supposes butterflies just don’t agree with her. 

“I don’t think I know what love feels like.” She replies simply, in a rare and impulsive moment of vulnerability. If she’s ever going to be vulnerable, it will be when she can control how the other person reacts to it. She looks down. Instead of looking at Ben, she traces her eyes over the skirt of the dress Evie put her in. It’s calming, relaxing. There’s the faintest trace of Evie’s perfume, and it makes Mal feel a sense of warmth and longing that she desperately needs right now. 

Ben’s heart squeezes sympathetically. He feels so bad for her. That tragic compassion reassures him that bringing her to Auradon was the right decision, and this whole thing was just a silly miscommunication. A mistake. 

“Maybe I could teach you.” He says softly. He puts his hand on her arm, helping her stand up.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

When you show up to the Wonderland Embassy, the home away from home you share with your mother, you look positively and uncharacteristically ragged. It’s merely a pebble’s throw from campus, so it couldn’t have been a particularly tiring walk - unless you walked your way from Camelot, which is highly improbable. Your blackberry bow is loose and slipping off towards your ear, your skirt is all rumpled, and you haven’t even noticed the run in your favorite pair of knee socks. 

Worst of all, worse than your slouching or lethargy or the tear tracks down your cheeks, are your eyes. The vibrancy, the hope and curiosity is all but gone. Your dear mother, Alice - better known as Alice Liddel, Ambassador of Wonderland - notices all of this right away. You answer her usual question, are you ready to embark on your weekly mother daughter dinner, before she can even ask it. 

“I’m afraid I can’t make dinner, mother,” you say, babbling around the tea biscuit you grab from the counter and hold in your mouth, keeping your hands free to drop off the useless information you’ve gathered throughout the day and search for a few books in your mother’s collection. 

“But I promise I’ll get something more than tea and cakes from the school kitchens tonight.” You assure her half heartedly, more worried about her peace of mind than your dietary habits. The moment the words leave your lips, she knows that something is wrong. Not wrong in the sort of way that a leaf floats down a brook, but deeply wrong, like a subaquatic shrub. 

Shrubs are not subaquatic by nature, and if one is found it’s recommended to bring it to the nearest tree surgeon as quickly as possible. She looks at you, her darling daughter, her wonderful little dear, and sees a subaquatic rose garden. You never skip dinners with your mother, not for the tiffletoo flu, or final exams, or anything else regardless of urgency or importance. The only time you’ve skipped dinner in the past was one time, one terrible night where Ben was rushed off the tourney field with a broken wrist and a nasty concussion. 

The standard for skipping dinner and tea with your mother is one that’s very rare and quite  extreme, so you’re not too terribly surprised when she stops you from leaving the Wonderland Embassy with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Nunz yet, my love,” She says softly, soothingly. She fixes your hair in that comforting motherly way of hers, then moves on to fix your bow how you like it. 

“I can’t watch you gyre like an overwrought sulphide marble for a moment longer.” She looks at you softly. “What’s got your mind so snaggled, sweets?”

Your mother, your dear dear mother is your most favorite person in both worlds, right alongside Ben. You’ve always found your inability to lie to her or hide your feelings as a relief, a blessing. Now, however, you find yourself wishing for the first time that you were able to lie to her as easily as Audrey and Lonnie lie to their mothers. Your stomach twists uncomfortably. You don’t like this feeling. You wish it would just go away, but you know you can’t tell your mother everything that’s going on. Not yet, at least. 

She’s so close with Ben’s parents - in both business and personal regards - that if you were to make the wrong move, it could mean a world of nasty repercussions and consequences for Ben. The exact ones you’ve been maddening yourself trying to shield him from. You trust your mother implicitly, but you also know she has a duty - not just as a politician, but as a parent - to inform Ben’s parents imminently of any perils regarding Ben that she is made aware of. 

You sit down, fussing with the pleats of your dress, tugging at your stockings to buy yourself some time, give yourself a moment to carefully choose the most right, non incriminating words you can muster up.

“Ben has been behaving strangely.” You state. Your voice is soft, but not fragile. This worries your mother. If your voice were fragile, you see, it would mean this was all very new and fresh. But the reluctant acceptance in your tone of voice tells her the severity of the situation in which you’ve found both yourself and Ben. Your voice is quiet, your words simple, and a soft hum of understanding leaves your mother’s lips. She nods empathically, silent in the moment that follows so you can continue. 

“And, I… can’t quite seem to figure out the reason why.” You continue, even more quietly - almost shamefully so.

Your mother hums again, this time with a deeper, more resolute understanding of how you’re feeling and why exactly you must be feeling the way that you are. You and Ben have been so terribly close for so awfully long, that if either of you had felt at any point during your numerous years of friendship that you were mildly confused by the behavior or the other - much less left clueless and in the dark, as you currently are - that that in and of itself would be nothing short of anomalous. 

So naturally, when something this catastrophically unusual occurs, it should come as no shock at all how deeply distressing it would be to you. The very worst part, you realize, is that your mother has already come to this conclusion with barely a fraction of the information you have. You shudder to think about how distraught she’d be on your behalf if she knew everything you do about your trouble with Ben’s unusualness as of late.

“Lovey…” Your mother says warmly. She reaches over to you, handing you a warm porcelain teacup and saucer of her ever perfect chamomile tea. It’s sweetened with just the right amount of honey, but not so much as to overpower it - a mistake that you’ve seen many people make quite often - and topped off with just a little bit of shaken cream and rose pollen.

You’re never sure how she manages to make it so perfectly with so little effort every single time, but it must be a mother’s touch, you suppose. A gentle hug and a warm cup of her specialty tea always gets you to open right up to your mother, no matter how mimsy and gallymoggers you may be feeling. 

Your expression drops, and your mother recognizes it instantly as the look of finally allowing yourself to let in the very best of ideas. Your posture straightens imperceptibly, and your mother disguises her proud smile with a sip from her own teacup. She loves seeing you like this, lighting up as your mind is flooded in a flash brainstorm. 

“That’s it…” you mutter again, aloud this time. You stand up, careful not to spill your beverage, and you take a great big sip before setting it down hastily. 

“Thank you,” you sigh gratefully to your mother, giving her a squeeze around the middle, and a honey chamomile kiss to the cheek before you depart. 

“I really must go now,” you say regrettably, but she’s already waving you off with affection. 

“Be safe, dear.” She smiles, then gives you a subtle and humorous look. “And don’t lose your head.”

You let out a laugh from your nose. 

“I think you’ve come close enough for the both of us.”

You exit the Embassy in a rush, determination and your mother’s laughter following in your footsteps. For the first time in days, you know what to do next.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not asking for christmas off and just telling my mom we can have a make up day for it as a slight revenge for taking away my halloween and telling me the same? so lil backstory this year i worked a seasonal halloween job. it was my first job (im 20) and so my mom was helping me with alot of it, when i got an email asking what days i need off i mentioned asking for halloween off since i didnt want to miss our family tradition and miss my favorite holiday but my mom told me that may mean they'll be less likely to hire me since im working a halloween job for 2 months it only makes sense i'd work then. so i didnt ask for that day off and so i worked the entire night halloween and before then i was so distraught and cried and would voice my frustrations about losing halloween but everytime my mom would just dismiss it all as "thats adulting" or "oh we'll have a make up day for you" which really bothered me cause it felt like she was dismissing my feelings and was okay with me missing a family tradition cause she thought they wouldnt hire me for asking for 1 day off. so now i have a holiday job thatll overlap with christmas and i didnt request christmas off and its bothering my mom since she loves christmas. ive just been telling her like "eh, we can just have a second christmas." and other dismissive things and if she says stuff about it again ill just tell her thats what she taught me when i did my previous job. that if im working a seasonal holiday job its expected of me to work the day of the holiday otherwise i wont get the job at all. i mean that is adulting right? sacrificing silly childish things for your job. even if that thing is incredibly important to you and caused you heartache for losing it to the point you would sob often and fell into a depressive slump. thats adulting!! at least according to my mom. i feel like its mean to do this but im only following her advice and her words. its just this time its her favorite holiday and not mine. im 100% fine with just celebrating it on a different day and such so this isnt harming me its only really bothering my mom TLDR: my mom made me miss holloween with dumb advice and dismissed my frustrations so im working on christmas to give her a taste of her own medicine.

What are these acronyms?

[novankenn]

Nora in : Tea with Jaune's family... Story-Time

"In a time before antiquity, a lonely young woman sat trapped, impressioned in a tower by her father. The once kind man, had shattered when his wife, the mother of his daughter passed while giving her birth. Obsessed with keeping her safe, he locked her away from the world..."

Nora: Wait... this sounds like that fairy-tale! The girl in the basement?

Nora: It's the Girl in the Tower!

Nora: So you are REALLY telling me a story.

Nora: Would you just listen! This is important!

Nora: Well can we get Bob to bring some finger sandwiches, or cookies? This is going to be long isn't it?

Nora: Okay. Bob!

Bob the Beowulf sticks his head in through the door.

Nora: Bob could you get us some cookies and pastures, and some hot chocolate, please?

Bob(Beowulf): *Yip

Bob's head vanishes back through the door.

Nora: I like Bob. He's nice.

Nora: Yes he is. Very well mannered, and extremely focused on his duties. Did you know that Bob is the FIRST ever Grimm to earn a doctorate in Butler Sciences?

Nora: How did he do that? He couldn't have gone to a normal school.

Nora: Correspondence courses.

Nora: Makes sense.

Nora: Anyway, while we wait for refreshments, I shall continue...

"So trapped behind a magical barrier, unable to leave the girl suffered. Her father cold, and caring only of her as a possession to keep safe, locked away from the world. So she started to wither, and it was only through her nanny and the books did she know of the outside world."

"But her reading gave her a taste for life. A desire for adventure, and by accident she discovered she could send tings pass the barrier that kept her trapped inside. So armed with ink, quill and paper she convinced her father to allow her access to, she started to send messages... seeking someone to save her...."

Nora: Is there a point to this fairy-tale?

Nora: Yes, there is.

Nora: Can we just get to it? I appreciate the build-up and the attempt to get me interested, but you're me. You know.

Nora: Yeah, your right. Okay, so the TLDR is that Grandma-ma Salem was the girl in the Tower.

Nora: Is that true?

Nora: Yes.

Nora: Well if it is true, she looks astoundingly good for someone older than dirt!

Nora: Anyway the rest of the TLDR is that Ozpin the Headmaster is the reincarnated soul of her rescuer, lover and husband.

Nora: Okay?

Nora: They got married, he grew ill and died. She tried to cheat death by conning the brother Gods... it failed, and in a fit of depression she threw herself into a pool of grimm goo.

Nora: She obviously survived.

Nora: Yes. Anyway Ozama, which was Ozpin's original name came back and the two fell in love, had four beautiful daughters... but Salem wasn't happy. After all those years alone, watching humanity rebuild she grew just a tad power hungry... and decided the best way to help Remnant would be to rule it.

Nora: So Ozpin... er Ozma thought differently and they fought didn't they?

Nora: Yes, they did. Salem attacked Ozama when he tried to leave during the night with their daughters.

Nora: No...

Nora: It happened...

Nora: NO! THIS IS A STUPID STORY! I DON'T WANNA...

Nora: Nora... this is the main point... in that clash of magical energies, one of their children was flung through time... that girl was Jasmine, Jaune's mother...

Nora: Now I'm getting a headache. So Jaune's mom is Salem's real daughter, meaning Fearless Leader... MY Jaune-Jaune is directly related to the queen of the Grimm?

Nora: Yes.

Nora: Question?

Nora: Yes?

Nora: Is this a universal constant like us?

Nora: Yes, it is but the problem is Salem and Jasmine don't know the other is alive, so it takes... Outside forces to get them to connect.

Nora: Forces like US!

Nora: Exactly!

Nora: But how does this all work? Like Queen of the Grimm just giving up, because she has great-grand-babies?

Nora: Salem has eons to fester with guilt and regret. Finding Jasmine opens her wounds, allowing love to finally touch her heart, which you know as well as I do the Arc's are masters of showering someone with love.

Nora: I do.

Nora: So do you understand? The ned for you and Jaune to have children?

Nora: So Salem has something else to occupy her time?

Nora: No, to fill her life with a loving family that will withstand the tests and trials of time.

Nora:...

The library door opened and Bob the Beowulf entered pushing a cart loaded with sweet pastries, cookies and a steaming kettle of hot chocolate.

Nora: Thank you Bob. Can you go ask Salem to join us?

Bob just nodded and padded off, leaving the two alone.

Nora: Question, does Jaune know about any of this? Because this seems like a BIG deal, and Jaune should know about it. Like it's not everyday you find out you're directly related to the big bad who controls all the grimm in the world!

Nora: To be honest... I don't know if he does... but you're right he should.

Nora: You think we could do the whole snatch and talk to him here routine you've been using on me?

Nora: Don't see why not.

(Master List)

[fand0mswithbunny]

this is so different from the other posts i do but fuck it. descendants 4: rise of red review, spoilers ofc, we still boycott disney's ass, pirate this movie like uma and her crew ate the intro of this movie instead of watching this from disney+

keep reading if youve seen it or dont care about spoilers but tldr: if you havent seen it and see this as a spin off movie instead of a 4th installment, i say go watch it. its basically how i feel about the 2024 mean girls movie, im just here for certain characters, dynamics and songs, and a bit of the actual plot, its fun but definitely not for everyone, i liked parts of the movie/plots tho

okay honestly overall, despite the fucking terrible rushed ass ending, i still honestly enjoyed a lot of aspects of this movie.

songs, generally i liked. yeah its all pop-y but yk, none of them were unbearable, i loop red, whats my name (red vers.) and love aint it what about it

the editing was. a choice at times. like it will cut at the most random moments and when red was being transported and fell from that. pipe. thing in the castle it was so. disney channel editing core LIKE OKAY I KNOWW OFC IT IS but grahhhhhHH

the cg was good, direction was. also a choice at times. idk how to explain it but it felt like every scene was being directed like a music video and not like a MOVIE esp the lighting oh my god idk what it is but its so GLOWY AND WEIRDD

the characters themselves, i love the main cast, red, chloe, ella, bridget, etc. were all cool. IM A FIRM RED/CHLOE SHIPPER THEY ARE GIRLFRIENDS IDC and i also liked the dynamic they have with their past moms it was nice

oh yeah i dont mind how they wrote mal, evie, jay, and ben outta the story, i mean they gotta explain their absence yk. and i loved the carlos tribute, you can tell china was genuinely not acting in that tribute scene.

the vks were. okay. i dont mind that literally every villain/princess/disney protag goes to high school. this whole series basically feature length fanfiction anyway, idc personally about that. its weird URSULAS SISTER was the main antagonist. like i get having a completely new villain aside from the vks parents or something but. ursulas. sister??? besides you could tell me shes ursula and ill believe you.

its nice seeing filipino prince charming thats it thats all i gotta say RAHHH PHILIPPINES BABYYY 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 MY MANS GOT THAT 'PINO RIZZ OKAYYY

the plot was actually fun, but yeah I WISH WE COULDVE SEEN CASTLECOMING WE WERE ROBBED OF THAT i knew when red and chloe got the book there was like 10 minutes left in the film but cmonn we couldve had Morgie, I DONT KNOW somehow freeing the rest of the vks and them STEALING THE POCKETWATCH AND RED AND CHLOE HAVING TO GET IT BACK, GET ANOTHER 30 MINUTES IN THE FILM MAYBE, ANOTHER ACTION SEQUENCE, CASTLECOMING. but its finee im sure theres a fanfiction in the works somewhere that has that exact premise because thats what fanfic is for babyyyy

imagine. during the dance chloe and red are scrambling to find the watch, they see the vks, they find bridget crying because her best friend isnt there, she thinks ella bailed on her, they have to find the watch but, they gotta make her feel better right? red comforts her while chloe chases after them to find the watch, ella comes to the dance late after deciding, fuck my stepmom, get your hands dirty parallels, something something, the four of them all stopping the vks together, THEN they travel back.

i should just write a fix it fic for this movie at this point damnn i impressed myself

but yeah the ending does leave a lot of plot holes, if bridget didnt change from the past WHO DID, if Red even CONSIDERED a VK in this timeline? if not then WHO IS IT?? IS IT CHLOE?? its hella rushed, its ass, but i guess we'll find out in the 5th movie ig

also i thought they were totally setting it up for Ella to be the one that humiliated Bridget in the past, like the "I saw through her" in Love Ain't It we NEVER GOT ANY CLOSURE FROM THAT WHAT HAPPENED?? sighhh its okay its fine

i see this movie as a spin off movie rather than a 4th installment of the universe because it pretty much is, like its basically its OWN universe with the lack of the og cast and new characters. i unofficially coin it as the "Descendants: Redverse" because it just makes more sense

so many questions, mainly WHY, but yeah, still liked it, would rewatch. certain. parts of it. but honestly? a 7/10. leaning towards a 7.5

is this a recommendation? not sure, depending on who you are you could totally love this film or hate it, i say give it a chance and completely ignore the busted ass ending <3

anyways KENDRICKKK FANFIC WRITERSSSSSS- DROP SOME MORE CHARMINGHEARTS FANFICS/D4 FIX IT FICSSS. AND MY LIFE, IS YOURRSSSS

[cowboypoisons]

okay i KNOW toji is a deadbeat dad and i am not defending his decision to sell off his fucking kid 😭😭 HOWEVER! there is a lot more to his character, that decision, and his second death than that…

(i Rlly like psychoanalyzing characters if we haven’t noticed)

okay SO!

his last LAST words r to his son, asking what his (last) name is. megumi says fushiguro and toji is RELIEVED BRO bc it meant megumi didn’t go to the clan.

“but like toji sold megumi To the clan? why would he be relieved?” bc deep down he RLLY didn’t want his son to grow up in that environment.

in the scene where he’s talking to naobito abt the proposition, toji’s wife/megumi’s mom has died. he’s in MOURNING and grieving and ppl do some fucked up things while grieving. not all of them morally right.

but mamaguro, as we like to call her, was his anchor. the love of his life and she was gone. it wasn’t necessarily that he Hated baby megumi, but when someone who managed to drag u out of darkness suddenly leaves, it’s no surprise when u go BACK to that darkness.

so he’s all alone here with a baby. a baby that is half zenin. a baby that can Very well be a sorcerer and possess cursed energy. so he calls up his good ol’ uncle naobito

again, i do Not agree with that proposition at ALL like it’s crazy to sell off ur kid especially soon after ur wife died 😭😭😭 but generally speaking from toji’s perspective, it makes SENSE.

in toji’s eyes, if megumi has cursed energy, he needs to be around those who ALSO have it. he’d have a wayyyyyy better life without him there and the zenin clan would treat him much better than they treated him. sure, they’re the reason he has that scar, but he was a non curse user. it made sense to punish him.

but ALSO isn’t it crazy he told gojo abt that sell to the zenin clan in his final moments?? like u usually don’t say smth like that unless there’s a REASON…i’m not saying anything but! there was a reason…there’s always a reason…

also also he literally killed himself in that dude’s body so he wouldn’t hurt megumi guys CMON!!!

tldr; very very Very flawed character, but did deep down care for megumi. in his own way . at his own time .

[phantom-thieves-official]

look i know I talk abt pegoryu all the time BUT there's so much to love about Ryuji outside the context of ships. Like, there's plenty of good characters in p5 but Ryuji steals the show, no contest. He's so kind and selfless. He's the first to give joker a chance. He's not even on particularly good terms with Ann and is pissed off at Kamoshida's creepy behavior on her behalf. When they enter the palace and get attacked, he tries telling to joker to run even though Ryuji himself is being attacked by the guards - he wanted joker to leave him there and was okay with putting himself in harm's way to allow joker an escape. He's not moved to take down kamoshida by his own potential expulsion, or his own anger about their history, but is moved by seeing what kamoshida is doing to other students, particularly shiho. After the kamoshida arc, he doesn't say anything about his own trauma or history with kamoshida, he's just happy that things will be better for Ann. He's the first to forgive makoto after she gets kidnapped by kaneshiro and has generally been a thorn in the phantom thieves' side for weeks. In fact he jumps in front of a moving vehicle to get a taxi to follow the people who took her. He fights with mona and gives a half-hearted apology, but all that animosity is out the window when the group finds mona and haru being harassed by haru's fiance. His entire confidant is about him trying to help the track team, which benefits him in absolutely no way, even after they turned on him for standing up to his abuser. even after the track team themselves physically assault him in an early social link rank. he wanted to get a track scholarship for his mom's sake, not his own. He puts himself in danger to get the lifeboat when shido's palace is sinking. he puts himself in danger and takes an attack from possessed cendrillon in maruki's palace. he gets angry when hearing about joker's past, but doesn't actually seem to have much anger in regards to his own - in fact, consistently through the game he gets angry and moved to defend others while not mustering that same righteous sort of anger for his own sake. Everyone else is his priority. he's the only character who has mistakes in the plot of the game that he owns up to and apologizes for - for getting mad and scaring futaba, and for being preccupied by their fame. he's a momma's boy. he's joker's best friend and right hand man, and more than anyone else he opens up to and confides in joker, to the degree that he has moments like that which occur outside of his confidant whereas nobody else really does (he calls joker through the story several times and confides in him about things like his apprehension abt the current events or how he is sorry he got mad and yelled earlier or even just that he's worried about the kamoshida plan.) the world has been so cruel to him and he still finds so much compassion and selflessness within himself. he's similar to his drunk, abusive dad, with a temper and a reputation for outbursts. but he's a twisted, funhouse mirror representation of that. his anger is justified and sparked by seeing others mistreated. his outbursts were just him standing up for himself and his whole team. and for it he got abandoned and shunned. he's a deconstruction of the people who've hurt him; he's similar to them while also standing for the exact opposite of everything they stand for. he's selfless and kind and driven to protect others even at the cost of his own safety, social standing, or well being. he makes mistakes and owns up to them, then tries to be better. he trusts joker so much. he's been hurt and abused and kicked while he was down and he still wants so badly to help others. as cruel as the world has been to him he doesn't let it embitter him or make him cynical and mean.

tldr; your honor, I love him

[pancakesandpessimism]

Okay, so hear me out: I think Camila’s an official Crime Mom™ now. 

I mean, we see that Vee and Luz graduated together, and the assumption is that it was from a human school, right?

I don’t know about you guys, but my high school required some paperwork to enroll a student. Namely A. some form of ID for the student, like a birth certificate, and B. proof that the parent trying to enroll the kid has legal guardianship over said child. Probably more stuff that my parents didn’t bother telling me about. Not to mention we see Vee playing baseball in one of the Noceda house photos, and while I’m aware this one might just be a My School/District thing, for high school we had to provide proof of ID AND a full vaccination record in order to participate in sports (this was true for school and competitive leagues). 

Now, while I’m positive Camila would make sure her babies are fully vaccinated (not just Luz and Vee, you know the whole Hexsquad got hit with a strom of shots the moment she realized these kids were trapped in a world their immune systems weren’t built to survive in), seeing a record that has ALL the vaccinations starting only a few months ago despite most getting them as infants-children miiiiiight raise some eyebrows. Especially when the student is supposedly the sister of another student whose records DO start at infancy. Not that it’s impossible for this to happen, but combining that with the fact that Vee has no birth certificate or official record of her existence to speak of, which also probably means Camila has no proof of guardianship because how do you adopt a kid who legally doesn’t exist, people would notice something’s up. 

Which then begs the question: How did Vee graduate, or get enrolled at all?

I present to you: Camila the Crime Mom™. Specifically, Camila the Identity Forger™. 

I’d like to think that’s actually what Eda and Camila were talking about in that photo where they’re sharing apple blood. Eda was trying to give Camila some tips on how to make the documents look official (she probably has plenty of practice between her history scamming people and her general knowledge of crime. Not to mention she could hook Camila up with an expert or two if necessary, she’s got Connections) and a warm welcome to the Crime Parent Squad, while Camila comes to the realization that Luz did not embellish any of her stories about Eda’s criminal acts in any way. As a matter of fact, she was probably sugarcoating a lot of stuff. 

And yes, there’s a possibility that she simply asked Gus to help them out with some illusions, but I raise you: Camila would want to do it herself because that’s her baby and she will ensure that Vee gets the education she wants without having to forfeit her new form, or any other part of herself.

Idk, it just makes me really happy to think that both of Luz’s moms not only would, but HAVE, broken the law for their kids. That is a family you Do Not want to mess with. Not to mention the idea that Camila went from letting societal pressures and her own painful experiences influence how she handled Luz’s education to committing a full on felony because fuck it, if her snake-daughter wants to go to school then she’s going to school brings a smile to my face. 

Tldr Camila Noceda remains one of the best mothers in animated history and I love her. 

[howlingday]

swashbuckler au: weiss and jaune end up having a duel, and while weiss can't say he's the best swordsman she's ever faced she can say that he's the most adaptable fighting she's ever seen tldr: jaune pulls some jackie chan improvisation using the environment in unorthodox ways to win fights. slapstick action comedy ensues

Part 1

---------------------------------------------------

You know those awkward family dinners? The ones where the room is tense and feels like it's filled with gunpowder, and all it takes is just one word to set it all off? Yeah, those ones.

Well, Jaune usually felt that every dinner since taking up his father's mantle as the Hero of Aquadia. Tonight, however, was especially tense since the four people hired to hunt him down were also here, eating his mother's special occasion chicken and spice. Now there was heat to help the spark.

"Hah... Hah..." The girl in red huffed as she reached for her glass of milk.

"Is it too hot?" Mom asked. "I usually cut back when we entertain guests."

"My sister never really liked spicy food." Joked the older girl. "Dad used to joke they're the reason she drinks so much milk."

"You sure he wasn't just milking you for a laugh?" Jaune's dad pointed at her with his fork, receiving a fork-point back.

"Please, don't give her any material." The girl in white said with a sigh. Jaune couldn't explain what it was, but there was something about her that seemed... familiar. "Anyway, what exactly is our task in Aquafia? Beyond the scope of capturing this "folk hero" running around in the city?"

"He's not a folk hero."

...

The room was quiet at that. Everyone was staring at me. Why was everyone staring at me? Don't tell me I-

"Care to elaborate on that, Mr..?"

"A-Arc." Jaune gulped chicken. "Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it."

"Do they, though?" Ruby asked.

"Yes, do they, Jaune?" His father sneered with a sinister grin. Sometimes, Jaune hated his father.

"Please excuse my son's outburst." His mom stated, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "He's a fan of La Lama Lunga de la Aquadia."

"The who the what?" Ruby asked.

"The Longblade of Aquadia." Blake answered. "The hero we met in the street earlier."

"And failed to capture." Mother said over folded fingers. She wasn't happy. Trust me, I'm an expert at making Mom not happy.

"He's crafty." Yang replied. "Really gave us the slip in the harbor after that Grimm attack."

"Haha! Oh, I wish I could have seen that!" Jaune's heart swelled at his father's words, even if these girls were giving him too much credit.

"And the city thanks you for protecting her citizens from the Grimm." His mother tried to get the discussion back to the mission. "But in regard to your real task, you can discuss the details in full with my son and my husband. I try not to involve myself in these childish escapades of heroism."

Jaune sank a little at that. "Sit up straight!" Okay, he sank a lot at it, but could you blame him? His mom just called him, as fancy as possible, out as a child playing hero! Still, his dad was stillin his usual high spirits. Kinda made him wonder how she never caught Dad when he was La Lama Lunga.

"It seems weird, though," The young girl said, "that the mayor of Aquadia would want to capture the hero of her city."

"He's a relic of the past, Ms. Rose." Mother dabbed her lips as she stopd up. "And though we are grateful for his protection in ages past, we must look to the future. If we wish to establish good relations beyond Aquadia, we must prove that we do not rely on fairy tales for our protection, and certainly not on vigilantes, either."

"So to make Aquadia a viable trading partner and member of the kingdom, you want us to hunt down the city's only protector?" Blake asked with a raised brow.

"We have guardsmen and a militia of retired soldiers acting as our reserve defense." Circling the table like a shark, the mayor made her case. "If Aquadia can prove we are just as capable as the northern cities in Vale, then we can prove that we are not merely a tourist trap of a bygone age."

"Oof, politics." Dad said. "Think it's time I called it a night. This talk of fairy tales and whatnot is giving me indigestion."

"We should also head back." Ruby said. "Thank you for the meal, but now it's time for Team RWBY to get to work! Starting tonight!"

Jaune swallowed his chicken a little hard, and started coughing up spices. Everyone stared at him again.

"S-Sorry." He said. "Uh, wrong hole."

---------------------------------------------------

You know what the best part about being a hero in your city? The nighttime patrols. Just you, the chirping creatures of the night, and the pale moon shining into the caldera city at midnight. It's almost therapeutic.

Jaune understood what his mom was getting at, bringing the other cities closer to them by getting rid of the one aspect that separates Aquadia from everywhere else on Remnant. Kinda like how Mistral has that famous sport lady. Pyra, or something.

Still, he doubted she would be getting hunted down just so her city can build economic ties to the rest of the kingdom.

Coming from the docks where an old woman was saying her prayers in a window beneath him, Jaune kept being reminded of why he loves this city. The teenage kids sneaking around after curfew, the young lovers holding hands in gondola rides, the white glyph shining right in front of hi-

Wait a minute.

"Hold it right there, llama loonga!" The girl in white from before swiped her blade at him. Jaune barely had time to catch it as he brought his own blade to his defense.

"It's actually La Lama Lunga, princess." Jaune shoved her away.

"It's heiress, actually." The girl held a fencing position, and judging by her stance, she meant it.

This was bad for so many reasons.

First, this would be completely different from Grimm or rowdy thieving hooligans. He was fighting a genuine huntress, an actual fighter. What little he learned about them ws in one ear and out the other. What? Huntsmen just aren't as fascinating as La Lama Lunga.

Second, his opponent was not only a trained warrior, but she was actually trained in the same weapon as he was! And making this particular dilemma even worse was Jaune didn't know how to actually fence. Sure, he's got the basics from what his dad taught him, but this was a huntress with a semblance.

And that semblance was-

"Are you going to just stand there and stare at me while I arrest you?" She asked, getting closer. "If so, then by all means, continue."

Taking his own stance, he gulped. Come on... Remember what Dad taught you. 'If you ever find yourself outmatched, there's no shame in running.' Jaune took a step back. 'Unless your opponent is smaller than you, then you definitely should feel ashamed.' Jaune kept his feet planted.

She got closer. Oh crap, this really happening to him, isn't it? Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap-

"CRAP!" Jaune leapt out of the way of her thrust. He stepped on his back feet over and over until he caught himself on the edge of the rooftop.

Suddenly, nothing came to his mind. All of his father's lessons fell away as he realized this would be how he died. How the legend ended. He wanted to cry. He wanted to curl into a ball. But neither option was available. So instead...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" La Lama Lunga ran forward, swinging his blade wildly at the foreign girl. Fear filled her eyes as she backed away, unsure of how to respond! His movements were too sporadic, too unorthodox! She'd never seen a fighting style like this before!

Suddenly, he tripped and fell over, dropping his weapon. He rolled forward, almost falling over the edge. Reaching down, he grabbed a potted flower and tossed it at her. She ducked, narrowly missing a bruise, only to be forced on the backfoot by the vigilante once more when he grabbed his blade again. Then...

"AGH!" She fell off! Jaune ran over to the side and looked down, finding the girl landed safe and sound... into a compost heap.

---------------------------------------------------

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Yang couldn't stop laughing at breakfast, smashing her fist on the table.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Weiss screeched from inside the shower, on her third attempt to clean herself of the stench. "WHY WOULD THIS CITY EVEN NEED COMPOST?!"

"Apparently, the compost helps improve the soil development for the farms outside the caldera." Blake answered, reading the info pamphlet on compost provided. "The humid air compounded by the naturally occurring chemicals produced in the water make for an improved-"

"IT WAS RHETORICAL, BLAKE!"

"Jeez, this guy really is no joke." Ruby sighed. "Not only to escape all of us, but he managed to beat Weiss, too!"

"N... Not really that hard, Rubes." Yang breathed.

"SHUT UP, XIAO LONG!"

"But don't you worry." Yang pumped a thumb to herself. "With me and Blakey on the case, ain't no way sword boy is gonna last another night."

[thecustomcosplayed]

oooh boy i am in the midst of rewatching season 2 of Legends of Tomorrow and Sara's entire arc from assassin to captain means so much to me

(rambling under cut and kind of spoilery ig)

like. Stein's "you're no longer an assassin, you're a captain." and then a few episodes later her choosing to save him over the amulet bc she views the team as her family and she can't save her sister but she can save them oooughhh

also continuing into one of the later seasons (either 3 or 4 idk), when Zari says to Sara "you aren't just the captain of the ship, you're it's soul" WHEN SARA HAS STRUGGLED WITH WHO SHE IS AND WHAT HER SOUL MEANS TK HER??

Godd I love it sm. And in S2 when she's still trying to deal with being a captain and the fact that Rip is MIA and she probably felt so inadequate for it but her team shows literally nothing but support to her and are always like "okay so what's next captain" and they (almost) always ask her what to do hshsj

Her struggling with a place in the team in S1 being nothing more than an assassin to Rip but then S2 rolls around and she's a captain and the team (her family!!!) looks to her for guidance and I don't think they really understand how much they mean to her but its just she grows SO well into the role of captain

Everybody who joins the team doesn't even question it, Gideon never stops calling her the captain (and rewatching S1 felt so weird when Gid called Sara Ms. Lance and not Captain Lance), and then when Ava comes around literally the entire team is like "oh okay another time mom. co-captain 🥰"

Sara loves her lil band of misfits so much and I feel like she doesn't realize how much they love her (Jax saying she needs to be captain and he can't be captain in S2 E11, Rory talking to her abt being the only 2 ogs left in S6, Nate treating her like an older sister, Zari and her lowk bonding over dead siblings, etc etc) but theyre a little family and yeah theyre a lil messed yp and broken but they have each other!!

I could talk abt Sara for years guys she's my favorite character from LoT

anyways tldr i really enjoy Sara's assassin/teammate - the (figurative) soul of the ship arc

[nezz-cringe-crib]

teru mikami analysis bc i love him

hi i'm just here to rant about how much i love teru mikami's character because he's genuinely such a well written character. this is probably gonna be unorganized and just rambly. i might rewrite it later but for now i just need another reason to procrastinate and focus on my silly emos.

(oh yeah also spoilers if that isn't obvious)

-------------------------------------------------------------

mikami is probably one of the best representations of religious trauma (at least imo and from what i've seen). i haven't read the manga yet and a lot of this might just be me projecting, but either way he's still the top in my books. there's SO many scenes and details about him that remind me so much of myself when i was still heavily involved with christianity (and to be clear, this is my own interpretation, not me tryna shit on any religions. that's a big wompwomp no-no. respect ppl hoes). so here's some random bits about mikami that make me go "OH SHIT ME-CORE ALERT!!!!":

the entire thing with his mom. i know that when he reflects back on his mom's death, he talks about how he's happy the whole thing happened because "she's evil and god killed the evil for me thanks god" but i completely believe the whole thing is just him brainwashing himself. like think about it for a second. his mom just died in the same car crash that involved his main tormentors, and this was also right after he was holding a slight grudge against his mom for defending said tormentors (she obviously didn't do that. she was just trying to help mikami view the world from a more realistic point of view to keep him out of trouble, but when you're that young and that passionate about justice, to him it'll seem like she's defending the same evil he's trying to fight). when you combine these things together, this is just gonna lead to a WHOLE lot of conflicted and lost feelings, and we see that in mikami. he had just been through a rough conversation with his mom, and she died before he could even get a chance to really think about said convo. all he is left with is a mixed feeling of loss, resentment, and fear. however, on the other hand, her death meant that the tormentors she was defending had also died. so to him, it has to mean something, doesn't it? the group of bastards that had been ruining his and others' lives and had finally been rid of. and if this had happened right after his mother had been defending them, it has to be a sign, right? there has to be a reason for all this hurt, right? when mikami is viewing the world through these lenses, it makes sense that'd he'd suddenly want a reason to justify his mom's death, even though it feels unbelievably cruel. so he finds a reason, and he finds that reasoning through god. this is honestly something that i used to do a lot when i was still heavily invested in my church, and i'm sure there are others who have been in the same situation. when the world is unjustifiably cruel, people will make up justification for it. it's a fear tactic that many people fall prey to in religious environments, and if not treated, it can fester into much more toxic environments for the people around them.

^^^ tldr: mikami copes with his mom's death by telling himself "it's okay that my mom died!! she was working for satan and god had to kill her!! thanks god!!" and if that's not the most religious-trauma-core shit out there then idk what is.

ALSO LITERALLY JUST EVERYTHING WITH LIGHT'S DEATH???? YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THAT SHIT HURT MAN. the realization that your god is not the god you thought you had been following used to be some of the scariest shit out there to me and mikami had it thrown right at his face when light died. not only was his god gone, but his god was never a god to begin with. he was just some guy. some pathetic guy who was now bleeding out and screaming on the ground. he had dedicated his life to this thing, and it was never real to begin with. and so he dies with it. because when the god revolving your life is gone, what other life do you really have? mikami was the perfect fucking example of that and i need it to be talked about more fucking please guys he's literally just like me fr i swear.

that's all i can think of right now tbh. if there's any typos in here no there isn't you're wrong nuhuh. anyways i fucking love mikami's character. he might be an antisocial autistic boyloser edgelord but he's MY antisocial autistic boyloser edgelord and i will defend him with my life. that hoe did EVERY wrong thing but your honor he is just a silly guy.