#the final chapter wow

[spooksier]

what a waste of time! guess ill have to come back tomorrow

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[maskedinfinate]

hi sorry for the lack of art recently But heres MORE ROCKSTAR RAMB wooooo

[hom3landr]

Pain au Chocolat

Bakerverse

18+

Much to Homelander’s surprise, a sleepy morning proves that maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye

CW: mild somnophilia, Stormfront

Homelander’s eyes blink open lazily. Your room is still dark and the glint of orange he’d normally spy on the horizon is hidden by clouds. The bed is toasty from shared heat but the air outside the soft blankets is nippy. The storm is through but Homelander can hear the soft pattering of drizzle against the window. Homelander contemplates rising for a moment but instead he snuggles deeper under the covers and wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer. You make a soft noise in your sleep but otherwise you don’t stir. He gives a tiny squeeze just for good measure. He likes feeling the soft give of you against him.

It had been a true terror of a storm the night before. The lightning split the sky like holy fire and he, god that he was, felt truly divine as he flew through the maze of bolts. He knew exactly where he’d find you when he arrived, waiting for him at your kitchen window. The same way you have for every bad storm that disturbs your peace. You wait for him and he wraps the two of you in blankets while he holds you through your panic. Storms are not as satisfying to watch indoors but he’ll sacrifice the view for the chance to hold you close. He’s willing to indulge in your quirks even if he still thinks you’re being ridiculous.

You hadn’t asked him to stay during storms and ordinarily he wouldn’t because why should he have to? But it feels right to care for you and be your hero. He wants to be your hero so badly.

You’d fallen asleep on him on the couch like you always do. He carried you to your bed like he always does. He slid in after you in the sweatpants you always let him borrow. It didn’t take long for him to follow you into dreams because it never does.

He doesn’t have nightmares when he sleeps with you. Your apartment smells nothing like the tower. It smells like sugar and old brick, earthy and sweet. He can close his eyes and all the worries of Vought just slip from his mind like water off a stone. He could take you to his penthouse when it storms. You wouldn’t even have to commute in the rain. But there’s something sacred about you willingly allowing him in your space. So he comes to you instead. It’s his only break from all the noise in his head. It’s the only time the past doesn’t hang over him like a dark shadow.

You also seem to rest better when he’s here. No more anxious baking into the wee hours of the morning, you practically become Sleeping Beauty the moment he lets you lay against him. You still feel safe with him despite everything…or maybe you’re just stupid.

He likes to think it’s because you’re in love.

He watches you sleep. You look so peaceful and serene in his arms. He nuzzles in close and presses featherlight kisses to your temple. You hum in your sleep but you remain deep in dreams. His hands travel up your sides. His thumb barely brushes against the undersides of your breasts and he’s suddenly extremely aware of the morning wood currently tenting his pants. It’s a lot harder to hide his boners from you when he doesn’t have his cup. But at the moment you’re sound asleep so he indulges himself with a slow grind against your ass. Subconsciously you must be aware of what he’s doing because your hips push back into his even though you don’t wake. His hands roam back down so he can grip your hips and roll them into a rhythm that makes his eyes roll back in his head. He resumes his kisses.

BEEPBEEPBEEP

He growls at the sudden tinny jingle that cuts through the peace, eyes glowing briefly as he barely restrains himself from lasering your phone in half. You groan loudly and blindly swipe around until you grab your phone from the bedside table. You hit the snooze button and ungraciously drop the phone onto the bed beside you. Homelander shifts away subtly, hoping to hide the way he was using you. You bury your face fully in your pillow with a huff and Homelander breathes a sigh of relief that you don’t notice. He rubs your back with a chuckle, ignoring the angry throb of his cock.

“Wakey wakey!” He practically sings to you and you grumpily mumble something unintelligible into the pillow. He loves how much you hate mornings. He’s addicted to these new edges you’ve begun to reveal ever since the fiasco where he tried to take you flying. It’s like there was an invisible wall between you he wasn’t aware of. He remembers how hard you fought in the air. He can respect it now in a way he was unable to then.

You’re practically scrappy.

You don’t make any attempt to move so he chuckles and grabs your hips to flip you like a pancake. You glare at him and your nose scrunches just the tiniest bit. He barely resists the urge to kiss it. He has to try even harder not to kiss your pout.

“I’m not going in. I’m sick.” You cough pathetically and he rolls his eyes. Fat chance he’s going to let you out of work with such a pathetic excuse. He knows you know that he knows you’re perfectly healthy.

“You’re sick?” He hums with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t even know if I have the strength to get out of bed.” You whine. You try to sit up only to collapse pathetically back into the pillows with a sigh and a bat of your eyelashes.

His cock twitches.

He leans over you and presses a firm lingering kiss to your forehead. You jolt and the warm fragrant heat that floods your veins makes him groan. Still so easy to fluster even with all your newfound cheekiness.

“You don’t feel like you’re running a fever.” He replies cockily against your temple. You huff and cross your arms. He’s deeply amused by your petulant act and getting a rare deep sleep has him feeling lazy and mischievous. He shifts to whisper in your ear. “Of course…there’s another place I can use to check your temperature.”

He gives your ass a quick pinch and you shriek as he erupts into laughter.

“That’s not necessary!” You squeak shyly, feathers all ruffled.

Your scandalized gaze isn’t enough to hide from him how excited you got by the suggestion. Maybe that’s something worth circling back around to. His amused giggles taper off as he looks at you fondly.

“If I’m going in then you have to as well. I need you there with me.” His voice softens as he reaches out to cup your cheek. He relishes the heat of you against his bare palm. Your eyes widen at his sincere confession and his vulnerability disarms your previous huffy playfulness. He can hear your heartbeat speed up as you nuzzle into his touch. Briefly an image of him snuggling into Madelyn’s dishonest touch flickers through his mind and he hastily discards it before the turning of his stomach ruins his good mood. He inhales deeply and the scent of you chases her ghost away.

“You need me?” You reply quietly, gazing at him softly as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“Always.” He answers, voice tender. The air crackles with charged energy that’s far from the lighthearted teasing only moments earlier. There’s an unspoken shift in the air as your gaze dips to his lips. He swallows thickly and leans in slightly.

“I guess it would be cruel of me to stay home then.” You whisper.

“I don’t think I could handle it.” He replies with a whisper to match yours.

You hum before shifting to press a sweet tentative kiss to his lips. He groans lowly and his hand on your cheek moves to grip the back of your neck, holding you steady while he deepens the kiss instantly. In the cozy haze of the morning he forgets to behave and keep his kisses gentlemanly. You genuinely surprise him by meeting him with equal passion, slinging one arm around his shoulder and pressing your body eagerly to his. Your breasts press into his chest and he nips at your bottom lip as his cock twitches under the loose fabric of the sweatpants. It’s impossible to hide the tent in the fabric but you’re too busy kissing him to notice. Your mouth opens easily at the press of his tongue. You react so quickly that it’s almost like you’d been waiting desperately for this very moment. This is the boldest he’s ever been with you and he’s relieved that you are bold in return.

The intensity of his kiss causes you to lay back on the bed. Homelander follows without a hitch, tasting as much of you as he can. He licks into your mouth as he crawls over you. You whine at the feeling of his hard cock pressed into your stomach but before he can put together an apology, you hook one leg around his hip to keep him in place. His cock twitches again and you must feel it because you let out a moan that he quickly swallows. The scent of your desire is so thick and heady that it makes him lightheaded. He trails a hand under your oversized sleep t-shirt to grip your hip as he grinds into you. It’s happening so fast that the disciplined part of him doesn’t even have time to react. Besides, you initiated. You want this. He is being good. It’s not his fault that you kissed him while he was half unclothed in the haven of your bed.

Your hand tentatively travels down his chest, scratching lightly at the hair there. He huffs at the tickle of it and when your thumb brushes his hard nipple he shudders. You pause and he can practically hear the gears turn into your head. Your caresses are just as light and careful as he imagined as you intentionally run your thumb over his nipple. He bucks into the soft swell of your stomach.

He shifts only slightly but it’s enough for him to slot a thigh between your legs. You gasp brokenly and your body goes still for a moment. He pauses his kisses, concerned now that he pushed it too far. But before his concern can evolve into anxiety, you slowly start to grind against him. Your breathy little pants make him throb as he watches you establish a rhythm. He uses the hand on your hip to guide you, wanting to feel helpful in your pursuit of pleasure. He can feel the wet heat of you plastering his sweatpants to his thigh. You’re drenched and the brown sugar scent of you has him slavering like a hungry wolf. He nips at your neck where he can hear your pulse beating loudly, intoxicated by the way he can feel the flutter of it against his lips

You sigh his name sweetly and something inside him snaps. He breaks the kiss only to bury his face in the crook of your neck as he shudders and makes a mess of his borrowed sweatpants. His hips roll lewdly against you as he rides out his orgasm. Your hand buries in his hair as you press heated kisses against his temple. A combination of satisfied pleasure and intense embarrassment from blowing his load like a teen boy jacking it to porn for the first time floods his body and he mewls softly into your skin. You lightly pet his hair while he shivers

He can already feel the flustered apology on the tip of his tongue but before he can verbalize his shame, your snooze alarm goes off again. He growls and rolls off of you, secretly grateful to avoid the opportunity to address his mess. He gathers the sheets around his waist so you don’t see the dark stain on the front of his pants. Although he wouldn’t mind you seeing the wet spot you left on his thigh. You don’t show any sign you noticed him come just from a little dry humping. You’re too busy angrily poking at your phone as you turn off the alarm. His exhausted cock aches at the way your lips have swelled from his kisses. Your nipples are poking at the thin material of your sleep shirt. He can feel himself already hardening, eager for another round. He shimmies off his sticky sweatpants under the covers and kicks them to the floor. His eagerness is dampened as you climb out of bed.

“You should call in sick and stay with me.” He calls out after you as you start to shuffle through the clothes in your closet. It fills him with a not insignificant amount of pride at the shakiness of your legs, all wobbly like a baby deer. You scoff lightly but there’s no bravado to it. You seem a little bit shell shocked from having your pleasure interrupted so rudely. He wants to push you against the wall and finger you till you’re screaming to balance out the tables a little bit. Now that he’s seen what you look like all flustered and aroused from grinding like a teenager in the back of a car, he just knows you’ll be pretty as a picture when you come.

“I can’t. I’m not running a temperature.” You turn around to grin at him, cheeks still flaming as you peek shyly through your lashes. With how eagerly you pounced on him and rode his thigh, he’s beginning to wonder if your nervous disposition was related to sex at all. Maybe you are just shy. He isn’t sure but he’s excited to find out.

Not right now though.

He can’t take off so easily, not with a grand total of three tv ads he’s contracted to film today along with his normal meeting with The Seven and an appointment with Ashley about the new ads for his campaign. You have to go in earlier than him but he can’t lay around forever. So he reluctantly doesn’t push you to stay although he does take a quick peek when you leave to change (and to rinse off the sloppy mess of arousal between your legs) He only looks long enough for a glimpse. He’s not some pervert.

You emerge dressed in the way he’s used to, sensible shoes, nice dress pants, and a pretty white blouse. You look put together and professional. It’s a far cry from the person who writhed and moaned against him.

“I need to head out but you’re free to stay as long as you want. There’s some pain au chocolat in a covered bowl by the fridge if you want some breakfast.” You tell him breezily although you still fluster when you meet his gaze.

“Can you tell me that in American?” He asks with a relaxed drawl. You roll your eyes but your expression is deeply fond.

“There are some chocolate croissants in a bowl by the fridge. Help yourself.” You reply with a smirk. You pause, sheepish. “Also I’m going to the laundromat after work so if you…need anything washed, just drop it in the hamper over there.”

You scamper over to press a quick chaste kiss to his forehead. He hums at the brush of your lips.

“Bye!” You bid him farewell before scurrying out the door and down the long stairs to the ground floor.

Homelander stretches and reclines back on the pillows. He feels unfulfilled despite his powerful orgasm. You hadn’t come at all and then you just raced off. Sure, you did have a good reason but he had wanted to take his time with you. He’d planned for ages how he wanted to take you for the first time but this surprise makeout session has his plans all discombobulated. He still hasn’t fully processed what happened. He looks down at the dirty sweatpants on the floor.

“If you…need anything washed”

Homelander groans. You did know.

Fuck

Aw well, he reaches down to stroke his cock that has filled out once again. He still has enough time to rub out another quickie. He’s going to more than make up for his indiscretion. You won’t even know what hit you.

————————————————————

Homelander is still dripping from the downpour outside on his flight back to the tower. He took too long entertaining himself with a pair of your underwear so now he doesn’t have time to run back to his penthouse for a dry suit. Luckily, you’re waiting in the conference room as always, humming to yourself as you prep for the meeting. The pleasant scent of you tickles his nose and reminds him again of this morning’s events

You haven’t noticed him yet as you busy yourself with your tasks. Although he can tell by the faint furrow of your brow that you’re keenly aware of his absence. He grins and silently follows behind you like a cat. You remain so adorably oblivious when you look pensievely towards the doorway, unaware that he’s already on your trail. He’s tempted to reach out and cheekily pinch your ass but he doesn’t want to risk giving you a heart attack. Instead, he waits until you’ve slid the last packet in place to grab your waist and spin you against the window. You gasp as he leans in close, boxing you in with one arm perched casually against the glass. You blink owlishly up at him in surprise and he can see your fluttering pulse beat against your skin.

“You’re all wet” is the first thing you manage to stammer through your shock and he grins.

“You’re observant today. I guess I didn’t kiss all the sense out of you” He replies and you give a little huff at his teasing as you hit his chest with an ineffectual slap. He’s so close that the lingering rain on his suit is starting to soak through your white blouse and his stomach flips when he can spy a hint of lace through the fabric. You rest your hands on his chest but don’t make any attempt to push him back.

“Are you cold?” You reach up to brush a dripping strand of hair out of his eyes. He shivers pleasantly at the gentle touch but you seem to interpret it as evidence of a chill. He places a hand on your waist to further box you in against him and your whole body erupts with heat as the blood rushes through your veins. He’s never this bold with you in public but a barrier has been broken. It’s time to be more forward with you.

“I’m freezing, I need someone to warm me up.” He purrs. It’s like you’ve suddenly become aware of how close he’s standing because you drop your gaze shyly. His cock gives a needy throb when he sees the barest shadow of your nipples beginning to stiffen in your bra. All he wants is to settle his warm mouth over them and suck. You’d squirm and pant against him. His tongue flicks against his teeth as he imagines making you come just by teasing your nipples until you can’t stand it anymore.

You sneak a peek up at him through your lashes and he squeezes your waist gently. You open your mouth to respond when…

“Are you two just going to stand there spraying your pheromones all over the conference room or can we get this meeting started?”

Homelander grits his teeth and the bane of his existence waltzes through the door. You startle and this time your hands on his chest do attempt to create some distance at being caught in such a compromising position. He lets you go as he fixes Stormfront with a nasty glare. He’s frustrated with himself for not noticing her as she approached but your fucking nipples were hard so it was difficult to pay attention to anything else. You awkwardly cross your arms over your chest when Stormfront sneers at the sight of your now see-through shirt.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your job?” She remarks coldly. You bite your tongue hard and Homelander catches a whiff of blood when you open your mouth to reply.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be going right away.” The warmth from his proximity has faded and you shiver shamefully in the crisp air of the conference room.

“And put on a jacket, this isn’t a wet t-shirt contest.” She replies and Homelander hates the scent of salt in the air as you tear up in frustrated embarrassment. He wants to step in and defend you but unfortunately you scurry out of the room fuming without even meeting his eyes.

He can feel them start to sizzle.

“Who the fuck pissed in your cheerios this morning?” He snaps at her. The knowledge that the rest of the team is coming is the only thing keeping him from more firm measures of retaliation… Such as popping her head like a ripe melon. He grumpily takes a seat in his chair and taps his fingers against the table to try and calm his nerves.

Much to his annoyance, Stormfront takes the seat directly next to him. She strategically waits until the rest of the team begins to file in before she leans over to whisper in his ear.

“I never took you as the type to fraternize with the help.” She states frankly and his hackles raise at her insinuation. He doesn’t like being reminded that you’re ultimately just a PA. When he’s with you, it’s so easy to forget how little you matter in the grand scheme of things. His pride rankles and his skin prickles uncomfortably.

“I wasn’t fraternizing. You’re taking things out of context.” He harshly whispers back. He’s not quite sure what that imaginary context could be. He did have you pressed sensually against the wall while you gazed at him with fuck-me eyes and hard nipples.

“Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you’re going to slum it then you need to be a little more discreet.” Her tone is dismissive.

Homelander’s ears start to ring.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He hisses. She knows nothing. She knows nothing about you. Who cares if you're nobody. It means you’re all for him.

“I’m someone who’s trying to give you advice. Get some standards.” She replies.

Homelander stands straight up, eyes burning, teeth bared, and the other members of The Seven meet each other’s gaze nervously. Stormfront just stares back with that infuriatingly smug smirk. He clenches his fists as he imagines how pretty her blood would look painting the conference room. He wants to laser right through her skull, roast her until she’s nothing more than a charred fucking husk. His eyes flare brighter. Then he remembers Edgar. He knows the kind of trouble he’ll be in if he indulges his urges. He shouldn’t care but he fucking does and it’s that which protects Stormfront. But he won’t be so lenient in the future if she keeps talking about you like you’re less.

“Meeting’s over!” He growls before stalking out of the room, steam practically billowing out of his ears. He can hear the confused murmurs of the team but he can’t be fucked to pay attention.

He’ll never give you up. You belong to him, especially now. He’s certainly not less because he’s… His thoughts stutter to a stop. He realizes that he has no clue what the two of you are. You’re not dating yet he sleeps in your bed and kisses you stupid. Things had evolved so naturally that he can’t even pinpoint the exact moment the relationship became more.

He needs to make this official, he decides. It’s time to make sure you’re really his. No more slumming it. He’ll show you off with fucking pride. You’ll love it. You’ll love him.

You’ll never be a nobody again.

[star-bitten]

i need u all to know that this panel is my roman empire like. there are three things i'm thinking about at any given moment two of them are the Stresses of Life and the final one is this goddamn panel. this cemented rui as one of my top favourite ghouls in my mind and was also an INCREDIBLY formative influence on my characterisation of him [incoherent rambling under the cut]

at this point in time i'm pretty sure that rui and mc do not know each other very well at all. they met on the galaxy express and had some minor interactions since then but they're like. acquaintances pretty much. and yet LOOK AT HIS FACE,,,,,, that's some tragic romance lead type shit. of course you could attribute it to a bunch of situational things: they're under attack by an anomaly, innocent lives in danger, stakes are extraordinarily high etc etc but. imo that doesn't explain the sheer heartbreak on his face

now a very reasonable explanation is this scenario being an incredibly stark reminder of his curse and how it inhibits him. instinctively he reaches forward to save her and then stops himself, horrified at the prospect of almost killing her without meaning to, terrified by the fact that she's throwing herself headfirst into danger, and saddened by the realisation that right now there's nothing he can do to save her. the hopelessness and frustration that would engender is captured incredibly well in his expression and it makes good sense. perhaps this is my personal biases talking but i just don't think that's the face you'd make if it was just a regular acquaintance in front of you.....

anyways my actual point of discussion here is the reason why rui seems so attached to mc in particular!!

firstly going into his traits as depicted in canon and in my interpretation of him. right off the bat rui strikes me as someone who loves easily and loves hard (or at least would prior to being cursed and made to put all his barricades up). i don't necessarily agree with his descriptions as a playboy, but i do see him as a sort of accidental heartbreaker in the sense that he would just give love so freely and genuinely that it would hurt him and others unintentionally. as of now he seems very settled in this easy front he exhibits (mc describes his behavior as being befitting of a host after all) but there are times where that facade cracks and this panel is, i feel, the first time the audience is privy to it. we literally see his heart bleed on his face and it is really really jarring since we finally get to see him as something more than a cheerful flirt.

now i know this goes against what i said about this not being a face you'd make for some random acquaintance BUT i do think that mc being there specifically has some weight.........

overall i think that this panel serves as a really great summary of rui and mc's dynamic as a whole. there's a lot of emphasis in the narrative and in their interactions on them finding common ground in the form of their curses - but we also see that the respective ways in which their circumstances force them to navigate life at darkwick are very different, and that in itself is really huge for their dynamic.

mc's curse and her bond with the sage ring incentivise her to interact with the world as much as possible - it's repeatedly affirmed that she needs the ghouls' support to ensure she has the best possible shot at breaking it. she's constantly running from house to house, getting wrapped up in their business, always on the move. for many of the ghouls she is indeed a sort of mirage - lingering out of reach because even subconsciously, she is distanced from these people to minimise the hurt her eventual demise/transformation will cause.

rui's curse, on the other hand, inhibits him from engaging with the world. he definitely can, and he's proficient at it by nature, but it's always with a pronounced degree of caution and he is very much isolated from the so-called 'human experience'. he's cooped up in obscuary 90% of the time, doesn't attend classes, does chores, gardens, rinse and repeat. with that has to come a profound sense of just being left behind as the world passes by. being secure, but stagnant, rooted to one place because venturing anywhere else is such an incredible risk. it's pretty much the exact opposite of mc's own set of circumstances. i find it a really interesting parallel, even moreso in the context of their relationship

no wonder he seems so attached to her - ironically or not, mc represents a sort of hope for rui, an affirmation that being cursed doesn't have to mean being cut off almost entirely from the world. that you can still live and love and be loved by people without fear!! and imagine how painful that attachment must be when his existence is (as i said before) so confined in comparison!! watching her move about from one thing to another, ostensibly getting further and further away while barely being able to reach out (in a literal sense) himself due to his own curse....... so close yet so far. that's got to be painful

in conclusion: rui is a sweetheart of the highest order and i'm chewing on his and mc's relationship + crying myself to sleep each night over this panel

[pikahlua]

MHA Chapter 423 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

tagline 1 ねじ込んだ一撃ーー‼︎ ねじこんだいちげきーー‼︎ nejikonda ichigeki--!! A single, exacting blow--!!

tagline 2 No.423　OFA vs AFO　堀越耕平 ナンバー423　ワン・フォー・オールバーサスオール・フォー・ワン　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 423  WAN FOO OORU vs OORU FOO WAN  Horikoshi Kouhei No. 423 One for All vs All for One Kouhei Horikoshi

1 何故気付けなかった なぜきづけなかった naze kidzukenakatta Why didn't I notice?

2 この��れた"身体"に「超再生」が適用されない違和感 このやつれた"からだ"に「ちょうさいせい」がてきようされないいわかん kono yatsureta "karada" ni 「chousaisei」 ga tekiyou sarenai iwakan [This] sense of discomfort that Super Regeneration no longer applies to this worn-out body.

3 こいつだ…いやーーー koitsu da...iya--- It's this guy...no---

4 こいつらがーー‼︎ koitsura ga--!! All of these [people]--!!

5 謀ったのだ はかったのだ hakatta no da They conspired.

1 それ単体では それたんたいでは sore tantai de wa By itself

2 あまりに脆弱な"敵意" あまりにぜいじゃくな"てきい" amari ni zeijaku na "tekii" [each one's] enmity was too frail,

3 しかし撚り集まって しかしよりあつまって shikashi yori atsumatte but when they gathered together,

4 いつしか僕を覆い感受を鈍らせていたのだ いつしかぼくをおおいかんじゅをにぶらせていたのだ itsu shika boku wo ooi kanju wo niburasete ita no da before I knew it, they enshrouded me and dulled my sensitivity. (Note: He means his ability to sense one person via Danger Sense became dulled because there were too many people with enmity gathered together in one place.)

5 与一と継承者どもを打ち込まれたあの時にもう精神のみならず よいちとけいし��うしゃどもをうちこまれたあのときにもうせいしんのみならず Yoichi to keishousha-domo wo uchikomareta ano toki ni mou seishin no minarazu Yoichi and all the successors were cast [into me]. At that time, not only my spirit but

6 身体も…‼︎ からだも…‼︎ karada mo...!! my body, too...!!

7 生半可な"身体"では なまはんかな"からだ"では namahanka na "karada" de wa (literal) A half-baked body (official) Your limp-noodle body isn't ready for it.

8 受け取り切れず四肢が爆散してしまうんだ！ うけとりきれずししがばくさんしてしまうんだ！ uketori kirezu shishi ga bakusan shite shimaunda! (literal) can't receive it. Your limbs would explode! (official) Your limbs would pop right off!! (Note: This frame is from chapter 2.)

9 たった2年…！8代目より少し上乗せされた… たった2ねん…！8だいめよりすこしうわのせされた… tatta 2nen...! 8daime yori sukoshi uwanosesareta... "Only 2 years...! I only added a little more to [what it was with] 8th..." (Note: He means he only added 2 years' worth of power to OFA, a tiny amount after what it was when All Might passed it off.)

10 9人分の力の結晶だ 9にんぶんのちからのけっしょうだ 9ninbun no chikara no kesshou da "It's the crystallization of power in proportion to nine people."

1 既に"身体"も すでに"からだ"も sude ni karada mo This body also has already

2 砕かれていた事に くだかれていたことに kudakarete ita koto ni been broken, unfortunately.

3 "個性"が崩れてく… "こせい"がくずれてく… "kosei" ga kuzureteku... "His quirks are crumbling..." (Note: This is a word often used to describe the effects of Tomura's Decay.)

4 やったのか緑谷…！ やったのかみどりや…！ yatta no ka Midoriya...! "Did you do it, Midoriya...!"

1 まだだ‼︎ mada da!! Not yet!!

2 "個性"で無理矢理 "こせい"でむりやり "kosei" de muriyari With his quirks, he forcibly

3 つなぎ止めた！ つなぎとめた！ tsunagitometa! tied himself together! (Note: This word also means "to save someone's life." In this case AFO is forcibly preserving his own life by using his quirks to keep himself from falling apart.)

4 まだ何も為していない まだなにもなしていない mada nani mo nashite inai "I haven't achieved anything yet."

5 誰にも奪わせはしない…‼︎ だれにもうばわせはしない…‼︎ dare ni mo ubawase wa shinai...!! "I won't let anyone steal it away...!!"

6 僕だけが夢を為す ぼくだけがゆめをなす boku dake ga yume wo nasu "Only I will achieve my dream."

7 誰にも…！継がぬ…紡がぬ‼︎ だれにも…！つがぬ…つむがぬ‼︎ dare ni mo...! tsuganu...tsumuganu!! "No one...! [They] won't inherit it... [They] won't spin the tale*!!" (*Note: The word used here means "to spin (thread), to make up a story, to assemble, to put together.")

8 魔王は常に唯一‼︎ まおうはつねにゆいいつ‼︎ maou wa tsune ni yuiitsu!! "The Demon King is always the only one!!"

9 そうだとも繰り返せばいい… そうだともくりかえせばいい… sou da tomo kurikaeseba ii... Even if that's true, I can just do it over again...

10 愚かな弔にそうしたように‼︎ おろかなとむらにそうしたように‼︎ oroka na Tomura ni sou shita you ni!! Just like how I did to foolish Tomura!!

11 OFA無き今緑谷でも…！誰でも‼︎ ワン・フォー・オールなきいまみどりやでも…！だれでも‼︎ WAN FOO OORU naki ima Midoriya demo...! dare demo!! Even Midoriya, now that he doesn't have One For All...! Anyone!!

12 "個性"を「与え」奪えばいい‼︎ "ぼく自身"を「あたえ」うばえばいい‼︎ "boku jishin (kanji: kosei)" wo 「atae」 ubaeba ii!! I can give and take away "myself" (read as: my quirk)!!

1 器を!!! うつわを!!! utsuwa wo!!! "[I'll make] a vessel!!!"

2 もうやめろAFO もうやめろオール・フォー・ワン mou yamero OORU FOO WAN "Give it a rest, All For One."

3 緑谷‼︎ みどりや‼︎ Midoriya!! "Midoriya!!"

4 白雲…⁉︎ しらくも…⁉︎ Shirakumo...!? "Shirakumo...!?"

5 消…太 しょう…た Shou...ta "Shou...ta"

6 山…田… やま…だ… Yama...da... "Yama...da..."

7 ゴメン…ナ…… GOMEN...NA...... "I'm...sorry......"

8 行かなくては…私はーーーーー いかなくては…わたしはーーーーー ikanakute wa...watashi wa----- Have to go...I-----

1 死柄木弔を守らなくては しがらきとむらをまもらなくては Shigaraki Tomura wo mamoranakute wa I have to protect Tomura Shigaraki

2 Xあ‼︎X生‼︎ Xあ‼︎Xしょう‼︎ XA!! Xshou!! (Note: This speech bubble is partially cut off.)

3 やっぱり…‼︎どこまでも… yappari...!! doko made mo... "As expected...!! No matter what..."

4 手ぇ差し伸べちまうんだよあいつは‼︎ てぇさしのべちまうんだよあいつは‼︎ tee sashinobechimaunda yo aitsu wa!! "he's that guy who'll hold out his hand [for someone]!!"

5 A…FO… オール…フォー・ワン… OORU...FOO WAN... "All...For One..."

6 死柄…木弔を…オ返シ…下サイ しがら…きとむらを…オかえシ…くだサイ Shigara...ki Tomura wo...OkaSHI...kudaSAI "Tomura Shigara...ki...Please give...him back."

7 オッおォッ OoO "Ooo"

1 オ友達が待っテイルんデす オともだちがまっテイルんデす Otomodachi ga matTE IRUnDEsu "His friends are waiting."

1 爆豪⁉︎ ばくごう⁉︎ Bakugou!? "Bakugou!?"

2 病院にって…‼︎うっそだろあいつ！ びょういんにって…‼︎うっそだろあいつ！ byouin ni tte...!! usso daro aitsu! "They said [you were heading to] the hospital...!! That guy's unbelievable!"

3 「爆破」で一人で来やがった‼︎ 「ばくは」でひとりできやがった‼︎ 「bakuha」 de hitori de kiyagatta!! "He went and came over alone using Explosion!!"

4 轟の"ジャンプ台"貸りたけどよォ〜〜〜〜〜 とどろきの"ジャンプだい"かりたけどよォ〜〜〜〜〜 Todoroki no "JANPU dai" karita kedo yoO~~~~~ "I borrowed Todoroki's jump platform, but~~~~~"

5 俺に追い越されてンなよ出久‼︎ おれにおいこされてンなよいずく‼︎ ore ni oikosareteN na yo Izuku!! "don't let me overtake you, Izuku!!"

6 AFO…‼︎おまえを許しはしない オール・フォー・ワン…‼︎おまえをゆるしはしない OORU FOO WAN...!! omae wo yurushi wa shinai "All For One...!! I won't forgive you."

1 けれど理解できない化物だとも思わない けれどりかいできないばけものだともおもわない keredo rikai dekinai bakemono da to mo omowanai "But I don't think you're an incomprehensible monster."

2 …やめろ ...yamero "...Stop."

3 おまえは魔王なんかじゃない おまえはまおうなんかじゃない omae wa maou nanka ja nai "You are not actually a Demon King."

4 見るな みるな miruna "Don't look [at me]."

5 おまえはただの omae wa tada no "You're just"

6 寂しがりな人間だ‼︎ さみしがりなにんげんだ‼︎ samishigari na ningen da!! "a lonely person!!"

1 与一…⁉︎ よいち…⁉︎ Yoichi...!? "Yoichi...!?"

2 緑谷くんは みどりやくんは Midoriya-kun wa "Midoriya-kun"

3 限り限りのラインでカケラが残るよう ぎりぎりのラインでカケラがのこるよう girigiri no RAIN de KAKERA ga nokoru you "seems to have a fragment remain for as long as possible."

4 ぶつける力を調整したんだね…… ぶつけるちからをちょうせいしたんだね…… butsukeru chikara wo chousei shitanda ne...... "I guess he adjusted the force of his hit......"

5 そして　残り火による"感応"で叩き起こしたんだ そして　のこりびによる"かんのう"でたたきおこしたんだ soshite nokoribi ni yoru "kannou" de tataki okoshitanda Then, I was roused awake in response to his embers.

6 僅かな残滓となった僕を わずかなざんしとなったぼくを wazuka na zanshi to natta boku wo I, who became mere dregs,

7 ワン・フォー・オールを WAN FOO OORU wo One For All.

8 正しく完遂させる為に ただしくかんすいさせるために tadashiku kansui saseru tame ni In order to properly follow [things] through. (Note: The order of the lines here makes this confusing. He's saying that, in response to Izuku's final attack with his embers, the barest dregs of Yoichi's vestige was roused. This one last piece of his vestige remained likely because Izuku held back on his attack using Yoichi's vestige. Now that he, the base One For All quirk, has awoken, he will carry out the mission of One For All.)

9 どうでもいい‼︎ dou demo ii!! "I don't care!!"

10 どうでもいい‼︎ dou demo ii!! "I don't care!!"

11 消えるな‼︎顔を見せろ！ きえるな‼︎かおをみせろ！ kieruna!! kao wo misero! "Don't disappear!! Show your face!"

12 無理だよ むりだよ muri da yo "That's impossible."

13 消える きえる kieru "I'll disappear."

14 駄目だ だめだ dame da "You can't!"

15 僕のモノだ‼︎僕を見ていろ‼︎目を見せろ‼︎ ぼくのモノだ‼︎ぼくをみていろ‼︎めをみせろ‼︎ boku no MONO da!! boku wo mite iro!! me wo misero!! "You're mine!! Look at me!! Show [me] your eyes!!"

16 兄さん にいさん niisan "[Older] Brother,"

17 貴方を導けなかった あなたをみちびけなかった anata wo michibikenakatta "I couldn't guide you."

18 これは緑谷くんが見出してくれた これはみどりやくんがみいだしてくれた kore wa Midoriya-kun ga miidashite kureta "Midoriya-kun discovered this for me."

19 僕らへの最期の救済だ ぼくらへのさいごのきゅうさいだ bokura e no saigo no kyuusai da "It's our final* salvation." (*Note: The word used for "final" here means "one's last moment at their time of death.")

1 駄目だ‼︎許可しない‼︎大好きだ！ だめだ‼︎きょかしない‼︎だいすきだ！ dame da!! kyoka shinai!! daisuki da! "You can't!! I won't allow it!! I love you!"

2 大好きなんだ!!!おまえがいないと僕は駄目なんだ!!! だいすきなんだ!!!おまえがいないとぼくはだめなんだ!!! daisuki nanda!!! omae ga inai to boku wa dame nanda!!! "I love you!!! If you're gone I have no purpose*!!!" (*Note: The word used here, dame, means many things depending on context. It means "bad, no good, useless, broken, hopeless, wasted, in vain, purposeless.")

3 そうやって sou yatte "In that way,"

4 全てを己が為に利用��てきた代償を払う時だ すべてをおのがためにりようしてきたツケをはらうときだ subete wo ono ga tame ni riyou shite kita TSUKE (kanji: daishou) wo harau toki da "it's time to pay reparations for taking advantage of everything for your own sake."

5-6 彼が起こしたのは僕だけじゃない かれがおこしたのはぼくだけじゃない kare ga okoshita no wa boku dake ja nai "I was not the only one he awoke."

1 先生に喰われて消滅したと思ったんだけどな… せんせいにくわれてしょうめつしたとおもったんだけどな… sensei ni kuwarete shoumetsu shita to omottanda kedo na... I thought I had been devoured by Master and disappeared, but...

2 あんたが俺を あんたがおれを anta ga ore wo were you

3 消えないように繋ぎ止めてたのか きえないようにつなぎとめてたのか kienai you ni tsunagi tometeta no ka tying* me down so I wouldn't disappear? (*Note: Again, this word also means "to save someone's life.")

4 おばあちゃん obaachan Grandma,

5 黒霧…………… くろぎり…………… Kurogiri............... Kurogiri...............

6 先生から身体を奪い返しただけで せんせいからからだをうばいかえしただけで sensei kara karada wo ubai kaeshita dake de I only stole my body back from Master, and

7 何も壊せやしなかった なにもこわせやしなかった nani mo kowase ya shinakatta I didn't destroy anything.

8 結局俺はおまえの言った通り…泣いてるガキだったって事か けっきょくおれはおまえのいったとおり…ないてるガキだったってことか kekkyoku ore wa omae no itta toori...naiteru GAKI datta tte koto ka "In the end, I was just as you said... A crying kid, huh?"

9 この手をX壊せなかったX このてをXこわせなかったX kono te wo X kowasenakatta X "This hand X couldn't break X"." (Note: Some of this speech bubble is cut off. It could say something like "I couldn't break these hands of yours.")

10 …やった事を許せはしないだから戦った …やったことをゆるせはしないだからたたかった ...yatta koto wo yuruse wa shinai da kara tatakatta "...I can't forgive the things you've done; that's why I fought."

1 止めたかったし…止まってほしかったんだ とめたかったし…とまってほしかったんだ tometakatta shi...tomatte hoshikattanda "I wanted to stop [you]... I wanted [you] to stop,"

2 悲しみが紡がれないように かなしみがつむがれないように kanashimi ga tsumugarenai you ni "so that the sadness wouldn't [keep] spin[ning]*." (*Note: This is back to that word that means "to spin yarn, to spin tales, etc." Izuku is saying he didn't want the sadness to beget more sadness. He wants the chain of sadness to stop.)

3 ハッ HA "Ha." (Note: This is an exhalation that could mean any number of things, like shock, laughter, realization, etc.)

4 緑谷出久 みどりやいずく Midoriya Izuku "Izuku Midoriya,"

5 スピナーが生きてたら伝えてくれよ スピナーがいきてたらつたえてくれよ SUPINAA ga ikitetara tsutaete kure yo "if Spinner is alive, please tell him [something]."

6 "死柄木弔"は最期まで壊す為に戦ったって "しがらきとむら"はさいごまでこわすためにたたかったって "Shigaraki Tomura" wa saigo made kowasu tame ni tatakatta tte "Tomura Shigaraki fought until the very end* in order to destroy." (*Note: Again, this is that "finale" word that means "one's last moment at their time of death.")

7 もう…壊したよ もう…こわしたよ mou...kowashita yo "You already...destroyed [it]."

tagline 決着‼︎永きにわたる因縁が晴れ上がるーー‼︎ けっちゃく‼︎ながきにわたるいんねんがはれあがるーー‼︎ kecchaku!! nagaki ni wataru innen ga hareagaru--!! Settled!! The chain of cause and effect that spans a long time is cleared up--!!

[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.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

I may or may not be making a neon void cosplay..>:)

YO???????

[qoldenskies]

torn between wanting to continue writing the next chapter and making another part to that crossover comic ....... cause the next chapter is LONG so it might be better to get ahead

[vertigoartgore]

1991's Marvel Comics Presents Vol.1 #84 cover by Barry Windsor-Smith. The Last chapter of the famous Wolverine: Weapon X storyline.

[stjohnstarling]

A gentleman doesn’t kiss death and tell. 😘

[spaciebabie]

wukong takes you on a date to get $7 cheese tea and it sucks. as in the date. not the tea. also you dont know that its a date.

[lollitree]

Guys I finally got my motivation back for XYLiro :D

[sylver-drawer]

Drinking game for rereaders—

Take a shot everytime Mochijun shows panels of Oz-Plushie or makes a direct reference and/or implication of Oz being a chain before the reveal.

[awesome-opossum-after-hours]

just the epilogue to go, but I've finally wrapped up the main story of my Breagan fic!

I'm really proud of this chapter- LOT of fluff and we finally get some good closure! it was a nice challenge to write but I feel like the dialogue ended up pretty natural. leave a nice comment if you enjoyed it, and be on the lookout for the epilogue!!

[comically-blu]

After weeks… Chapter 5 to Portal Pinecone is out!

Link to the chapter here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61119904/chapters/160607719

(I really have no idea how to link this I’m sorry)

[quailxcrossing]

riding on the fucking HIGH right now of i had a bit of trouble with a future Revive scene and i was really mulling it over but then i went outside and smelled the air and its slightly cloudy and in the evening and hot but not sunny and. and it all came to me. rushed inside muttering I'm a Genius im a genius im a genius and if i can pull this off IF I CAN PULL THIS OFF. IF I CAN PULL THIS OFF!!!!! OH MAN!!!!!!! scribbled all over 2 stickie notes for this one