#not forsaken related so yeah

[itrappedxd]

how’d you crash the stock market

- six time

"Mcnoobster and Olixx were responsible for that, if you're referring to APRIL FOOLS 2012. I was involved in MAY MADNESS 2012, thanks. But how they did it? Admin panels that were granted to a lot of people suddenly."

[wtfsteveharrington]

take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.” 

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 

“M’still mad at you.” 

He winces but he knew it was coming. 

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 

And you still won’t look at him. 

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now. 

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 

[loudn-mcyt]

The Kingdom of Fools Hierarchy

Tina suggested that the Kingdom needed a hierarchy with proper ranks, and that got me thinking...so here's my take at the different noble titles of the Kingdom of Fools, as based upon the most common titles in historic (medieval to early modern) Europe!

King Foolish: Obviously, Foolish is the King of the Kingdom. No real surprise here. I would say more, but everyone generally understands the whole idea/deal of a king, so I won't go into much detail.

Duchess Roscumber, Royal Architect of the Realm: When the king was out of commission (dead), Ros was the person put in charge. As much as I love Knight Ros, that suggests that she either held a significant title beforehand or was elevated to title as that happened; either way, it makes sense to me that she would be a duchess, which is the highest noble title below royalty in many systems, and often related to the royal family in some way. Given how feudalism works, it's entirely possible that the others' holdings are within her duchy, hence why she was chosen as the leader in the king's absence.

Marquess Clownpierce, Royal Archmage: A Marquis/marquess is, generally speaking in terms of the size of their holdings, roughly equivalent to an earl or count. However, they were traditionally privileged above counts/earls because their holdings were near borders, meaning they were often charged with defending those borders from attackers. This feels fitting for Clownpierce, whose reputation as a warrior and enchanter serves as a significant deterrent for those that threaten the Kingdom, at least in theory.

Marquess Sneegsnag, Royal Smith: Like Clownpierce, Sneeg fills a similar role for the Kingdom, ensuring that their equipment is strong and serving as another dangerous member to threaten other factions. He also has shown off his prowess as a hunter. Taken together, this suggests to me he should be Clown's equal in rank, as he serves a very similar role within the kingdom.

Count Tangofrags: Our favorite cursed hot dog feels fitting for a Count. He's an important member of the kingdom, but I always have trouble really pinpointing a distinct role for him. However, he is undeniably loyal, and supports his fellow kingdom members wholeheartedly. As a result, I've chosen to place him as a count; counts/earls generally had comparable holdings to Marquesses, though in less tactically important locations. I like the idea that Tango's earldom might be a breadbasket for the kingdom.

Countess Tinakitten: I love Tina with all my heart, but it's still pretty early to say where she will land in the grand scheme of things amongst the kingdom. So, as a new arrival, I've made her a countess; she holds a fair amount of power, but she is less influential than long-standing advisors to the king like Ros, Clown, and Sneeg. Also I would feel bad making her any less important.

Viscount Owen: As the royal jester, Owen would likely have forsaken any title, but I wanted to give him one anyway. Viscounts served as the second in command to an earl or count, which isn't really Owen's role - as the jester, he has the privilege to mock whoever he so chooses, and I like the idea of a lesser nobleman taking advantage of that power to mock the powerful and influential Clownpierce.

Friar Fit: As a member of the clergy, Fit would of course be banned from holding title. However, that doesn't mean he's powerless; quite the opposite, in fact. The church held a very significant amount of power. While, strictly speaking, they were intended to avoid politics, that was very much not the case, and while they were considered subservient to the king, they were able to interact with any other member of the nobility on their own terms.

So, yeah! There's my takes on it. I didn't make anyone a baron, which is another common title below Viscount. It just made sense to me that, interpreting the kingdom into a slightly more historical framework, everyone working closely with the king would be of relatively significant rank - either outright powerful like Duchess Roscumber or Marquesses Clown and Sneeg, or politically influential like Count Tango or Countess Tina. And also Fit is here.

[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.

[miamigo333]

AANG ＆ OZAI PARALLELS: DEBUNKED

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Because apparently the true villain is the sole survivor of a genocide of his entire nation, and not the imperialist colonizer.

Where do I even begin?? Because I’m genuinely holding in laughter writing this, it’s absolutely insane how certain people can make such egregious parallels that aren’t even found in the first place. 

AH, so a little backstory on how this fucking shit stained idea even came to existence, well our dear z^tara fans pissed their pants over Zuko and Katara not tying the knot, so, as a way of retribution for their supposed “honour” They take any chance to jump on the Aang hate train and make him into some irredeemable abusive demon, aaand they got that perfect opportunity because the LoK decided to take a lick out of the great “Main Characters Must Be Bad Parents In The Sequels” Trope. Which personally, does absolutely nothing to the protagonists resolution aside from cheap family drama but I digress. 

Now, I’m not behind the idea of the writers trying to make Aang a “flawed” Parent, I think it really makes no sense by how they went about it, (I might touch on this in another post) 

((And it’s so very clear that they’re trying to give it a soft “retcon” And even taking extra steps saying that Kya and Bumi just “remember wrong” Which I’ll actually take, because season two of LOK was hell on earth anyway so you might as well give it some saving grace.)) 

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There’s three main parallels that they got from Ozai and Aang: (god help me)

Favouring a child

isolating the rest

leaving pressure On the golden child

I’m going to debunk all three of them while trying not to fall into complete lunacy over how ridiculous they are. 

Favouring a child + Leaving pressure: 

OK, so people are clearly blind with context clues and media comprehension, got it. No surprise whatsoever. I can’t be disappointed if I didn’t even have any expectations to begin with. 

Let’s compare the treatment on how Ozai treats Azula, and how Aang treats Tenzin. (Holy Shit)

Beginning with Ozai, well.. It doesn’t take much of a rocket scientist to understand that Ozai essentially could not give two fucks about Azula, as she in essence, serves the role of an attack dog, as long as it does its job, it’s worthy. 

Ozai favoured Azula because she was molded to match his ferocity and hunger for power, she was a prodigy bender, and was cunning and calculated, all traits that Ozai found endearing and someone worthy to be crowned the next “fire lord.” His “favouring” Of her didn’t come out of genuine love or care, she is his tool who serves a purpose. In short, she showed more competency and more ruthlessness and callousness in comparison to Zuko. Which earned her, her place as the “Golden Child.”  

-------

None of this is even remotely similar to how Aang treated Tenzin and his kids, aside from the fact he supposedly “favoured” Tenzin more, but that is such a baseline statement and has absolutely no relation with Ozai's reasons.

You have to understand that an entire FUCKING NATION IS DEAD. History, Culture, Tradition, is at the BRINK of being wiped out, Tenzin is quite literally the only Airbender that will be left after Aangs passing. Why do people devalue this concept so much? 

“B-BUT THE AIR ACOLYTES1!!” Still have limited knowledge, airbending is so heavily tied to its spiritual roots, you LOSE your ability to AIRBEND, if you aren't inclined to your spiritual side. Which is a core part of the air nomad culture. Tenzin is... Literally the only god forsaken part left of that, so yeah. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. Aang values his culture and teachings to such a high degree, he is literally the survivor of a genocide. His favouring of Tenzin was done out of necessity and love, not out of a need for power and a new attack dog to send orders around. 

Tenzin will literally be the future “Director” Or guide for the next avatar to learn airbending, people still forget this, and it’s hilarious. He needs to know all the moves, all the teachings because he will be the next avatar's personal guide. 

Aang constantly reassures him, and apologizes for the pressure that may be put upon him but he always reaffirms that he’ll be there to guide him and they’ll “learn together��

---------

So yeah not the same thing at all. Fuck you for being so inept at understanding the different reasons and perspectives of those situations, just for some petty ship discourse, genuinely disgusting.

Isolating the children:

OK this part, I have to say that the writers definitely messed up with aangs characterization, but I think the execution came out way differently than the intention, so I will try to look more into the intention of each decision.

Ozai isolated Zuko, mistreated him, belittled him, PHYSICALLY ABUSED HIM, but yeah totally on par with Aang actually. 

I don’t wanna touch on this part much mainly because his treatment was literally explained all throughout the show, and granted, while I understand most of these people haven’t touched the show aside from reading fanfic 300000 Where Aang is revealed to us as satan himself, but perhaps, even a small peak at Ozai's parenting would reveal the laughable contrast between the two.

Zuko was a slow learner, and much more of a softie, and a “mama's boy” To Ozai’s heavy dislike, he was thus treated as such, he was belittled, turned down, and literally burnt alive for showing “weakness” He is meant to serve as a direct contrast to Azula, ”The everything he isn't.” 

Kya and Bumi on the other hand, don’t show any actual signs of trauma aside from some petty jabs they threw at Tenzin, 

Bumis talk with Aang at the statue was *very very* Clearly, meant to highlight his own inferiority complex that he internalized growing up. His need for proving himself to be capable of doing just as much if not more than a “bender” Probably happened because his two parents were both prodigy benders and him being a first born son who was a non-bender must’ve hit pretty hard for him, and I’m so sure that katara and Aang reassured how special he is but that kind of thing doesn’t really go away.

------

------

Kya: [while healing Bumi] I told you those rocks were slippery. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself.

Bumi: You done with the lecture, mom?

Kya: Oh, grow up. You haven't changed one bit since we were kids. You're still trying to prove you can do everything a bender can. Well, you can't. Deal with it.

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

 That talk with Aangs statue was very much meant to unveil an internal struggle rather than a conflict he had with his father. Kya even doubles down on this, telling him “of course he’d be proud of you” Basically spoon feeding to us, the viewers, that this is much more of internal than an external conflict that he has to overcome along the show. 

“Why Didn’t he share his culture with them 1!!1!” 

He most definitely did, or tried to, but it’s clear they didn’t show much interest so he didn’t pester, this is shown many times throughout the show. 

“You know I could never keep all those gurus straight… There were like a million of them!

remember that long boring story about the guy who never ate?”

This is literally Kya’s remark to Tenzin just after he tried teaching the airbender students this story, basically telling us that Aang DID try to tell them about his stories and culture, but much to their disinterest, didn’t try any further. 

And Bumi, literally could not pay attention to the story to save his life, and instead decided to fool around in his literal 60’s!! I mean Imagine what he was like when he was a kid!! 

I could imagine their dynamic was very similar to Jinora with Meelo and Ikki, Tenzin being the only one with actual interest and care, whilst Bumi and Kya goofing off and not putting much focus onto it. WHICH IS FINE BTW!! 

It only goes to reiterate that Tenzin was the only one who was actually giving interest and attention to the air nomad culture, and it was of Kya and Bumi’s own personal choice to not partake in it. To each their own I see. 

“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VACATIONS” 

This.. I agree, weird for the writers to decide this, but given how they low-key are retconning it in interviews, my best guess is that each of those trips were side-quests during their journey to teach an important lesson that might’ve just drowned out because Tenzin may not have remembered it as well. 

Also keep in mind that Tenzin was put into a lot of pressure, Aang probably saw this, and as a way to still keep it enjoyable, he took him to trips that would help ease the mind for a little kid whilst also learning something valuable. That seems pretty on brand for Aang actually

And given that Kya and Bumi are literally in their fucking 60’s it wouldn’t surprised me if they didn’t have the greatest memory. Hell, they didn’t even fault Aang as a parent until Tenzin started boasting about “trips” That Kya and Bumi gave petty jabs but weren’t actually showing genuine hurt, just annoyance.

Kya even comments how Aang was too busy “Trying to save the world, and doing his duty that he didn't have much time for them” 

Phrasing as if it wasn't anything "important" But it's clear that this was Kya's own personal irritation towards Tenzin rather than an actual evaluation on Aang's duties.

A continuation comic best explains it in a deeper way:

----------

Literally showing that “neglecting” His kids wasn't up to him, and was out of a sense of necessity, trying to cram as much knowledge onto Tenzin, the only one who was basically putting his lessons into practices. Kya and Bumi were left feeling neglected. But that wasn’t out of his decision; he still loved them dearly.

-------

This. Literally highlighting how much pressure was forced upon Aang, so yes, as any person would, he struggled with making time for everybody. Holy shit who knew?? 

GASP!! IS THAT… A REALISTIC BUT UNDERSTANDABLE FLAW!!?? HOW DARE YOU! ITS OZAI #2 

The fact that the smiley energetic person forgets to SMILE, is a big deal, man was put through hells amount of stress but he never cracked.

So tell me, how is a genocidal freak, who treats his golden child like a tool and abuses the other both physically and emotionally for showing “weakness’ 

Even remotely comparable to

 the sole survivor of a genocide, trying to withhold his teachings and culture onto literally his only child that showed actual effort in doing so, while also maintaining the balance of an entire fucking world and being literally the biggest “advisor” And “Mentor” For society, OH! And also building and managing a literal city, but along the way struggling to make time for his children. 

Guess what, they’re not. And if you think they are. You are an idiot, with bias and headcanons.

So the conclusion is, Aang is a flawed parent, but he isn't a "bad" Parent - confirmed by the literal writers.

Comparing him to Ozai a literal dictator, is absolutely sickening, just for your petty shipping discourse when this show's been over for a decade is insane. Indulge in what you enjoy, but stop projecting delusions like they're canon.

:D

[amemoryofwot]

In regards to WoT show Liandrin I think there's a certain point where a character in a show needs to portray concepts that are otherwise lore or exposition. Like, the writers didn't do so much with her because they think she's Super Neat in the books or something, but because as a relatively one noted early intro character she's in a convenient place to tackle some Stuff onto. Some examples I can think of are:

The Vileness - as this is like one of my personal fave WoT topics I YELLED at her intro in the very first episode. It's the Vileness!!! She's hunting down and Gentling men unsanctioned without a trial! She only has Reds with her there, and it's so completely different to the procedure for Logain where she has the Greens. She even put them into a position where they felt they had to Gentle Logain early, I maintain that she slipped that shield for a fraction of a second.

The ability of the Black Ajah to lie - The rewatchability of the show remains peak, it's super fun to see all the places she's definitely lying, bringing into play that hidden Black Ajah wild card of Being Able to Say Anything. Again, the first intro scene, where the critics were so pressed she misrepresented the taint. Ah yes, famously man hating Black Ajah Liandrin just might have something to say about that, yeah.

The unnaturally long lifespan of a channeler in relation to others - Watching your child age and die is a pretty horrific consequence of this, and one example is enough to explain why none of the other women have children either. This does get verbalized in the books but again showing examples is going to be more impactful in a visual medium than someone saying it out loud.

Black Ajah recruitment - I don't know whether she truly thought she would get Nynaeve as a Black, certainly at least she thought she could argue her into the Red (why Heal the aftereffects when you can go after the cause?) but it does show there is a recruitment process involved. Albeit in the books it seems to be limited to capturing a person and demanding they swear to the Dark or they will be killed, the show has at least tried to provide some hot nuance with Liandrin, Min, Dana, etc. You can argue RJ had some clear cut ideas of what made a Darkfriend (petty, selfish, etc) but these are human emotions in general, the world for the most part isn't divided into a subsection of Bad People that only have these emotions. Plus some of RJ's ideas of what a Good Person is (namely, self-sacrificing) isn't always, uh, good.

The general idea that Darkfriends may appear helpful or good, but have a secret agenda - when the eps first came out there was a lot of pushback that Liandrin got some of Siuan's scenes. I think this was all to entirely sell us on Liandrin is On Our Side Actually, because in the book it is actually hilarious how Min's like "hey gang I have a bad feeling" and then Liandrin shows up out of nowhere to whisk them away. Plus the scene with the sword and wrapping them up in Air and stuff is not really a great look. It was enough to seem like she's trying to help, but coming across in a really traumatic way that on hindsight of the betrayal makes it even more abusive. Now, we are constantly suspicious that other Aes Sedai may end up being secret Blacks

That the Forsaken have different agendas, and use Darkfriends to implement them - using one single character like Liandrin and shunting her from Ishamael to Lanfear (and ultimately to Moghedien) helps illustrate how the Forsaken work without giving away too many secret identities.

Anyways that's the one's I can think of now. Again truly the show is so efficient with its writing, practically every line has some lore or foreshadowing or twist to it, and expanding on these honestly somewhat flat characters is a really effective way to illustrate these concepts.

[activesplooger]

For a story request for kinktober, could see maybe yandere!vox who is extremely possessive of y/n and goes absolute feral with the need to ‘claim the reader’ after seeing them talk to Alastor??

~em

FUCK YEAH ILY ANON <33333 YANDERE VOX EWFHJKWBFHWBEF

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕯𝖆𝖞 3 » ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

»»—-𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱—-««

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: (MDNI) Kinktober day 3!!! i didn't edit this btw so sorry ill revise l8ter. and that wraps up my requests for now so i'll prolly get to work on my help me (vox x assistant!reader) fic! kinktober requests are open for the whole month so ask as you please!

𝕮𝖂: yandere behavior (vox), oral (m-receiving), front-door penetration, possessiveness, recording w/o consent

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You have a 'friendly' chat with Alastor relating to private matters. Your possessive partner, Vox, sees this and feels the urge to mark his territory. Despite your reassurance that the talk was anything but romantic, he still pounces on you with vigorous determination...

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1,809

»»———-————————————————-««

You're currently sitting through a monotonous routine overlord meeting, fidgeting with a pen in your hand as Carmilla Carmine drones on about stuff you honestly couldn't care less about. Usually, you'd have Vox by your side during these meetings, which would help things be less boring. Whether it was holding your hand under the table or making fun of the other overlords, Vox always helped entertain you. But, unfortunately, he couldn't attend; he's stuck at the Vee tower, trying to calm Valentino down after another temper tantrum.

You start to gnaw at the end of your pen subconsciously, your thoughts drifting to Vox and your plans for the day after this god-forsaken meeting. All of a sudden, a bitter taste hits your tongue. Looking down, you see pen ink splattered everywhere—on your clothes, your mouth, the desk. Forgetting where you were, you jump out of your seat and exclaim, "Shit!". The room goes silent, every overlord turning their attention from Carmilla to you. Fuck, that's embarrassing.

Carmilla raises an eyebrow, a stern expression on her face, "Everything okay, Miss L/N?". "Y-yeah," you stutter, sitting back down and avoiding eye contact, "sorry.". She sighs and focuses her attention back on the "important" subject matter. You wanted to bang your head on the desk and cry. This moment is definitely gonna replay in your head at night and keep you awake.

The buzzing of your phone vibrates in your pants pocket. You pull it out and see a notification:

Hiding your phone under the table, you smile softly. At least you had something to look forward to now. 30 more minutes, you've got this. You pocket your phone once more and pretend to pay attention.

--

The meeting concludes about 20 minutes later, a bit earlier than expected. You get up out of your seat and try to ignore the stares at your ink-stained outfit from the other overlords. Vox wouldn't be here for another ten minutes, so you figured you'd just wait outside the building until he came. However, just as you are about to exit, someone grabs your forearm and yanks you back. You're met face-to-face with the radio demon, Alastor. His smile stretches ear to ear, but it doesn't fool you, Vox has told you all about him and specifically told you to avoid him at all costs. You've interacted with Alastor before. However, Vox was always present with you each time. What could he possible want from you?

The deer grabs your hand and shakes it with a violent fervor. "Why hello there, my dear," he happily greeted, "pleasure to be meeting you without that pesky picture box by your side, quite a pleasure! You take your hand back and size him up, "Uh huh, nice seeing you. Bye-". Turning on your heels, you attempt to leave. Before you can successfully exit, Alastor seizes your hand again and pulls you back to face him, "Why, how rude! Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's impolite to leave when one is speaking to you? HA HA! Anyway, speaking of the bothersome television-". "We weren't talking about Vox-" you interrupt. Alastor chimes in again, his jubilant demeanor never faltering, "Oh, but we are now! Where is your dear Vox, hm?". "Home." you state flatly. "Really?" he asks, eyes narrowing as he pries, "and why is that? Trouble in paradise? You seemed rather preoccupied during the meeting, perhaps you were dwelling on some type of argument?". "What, no-." Alastor cuts in, not bothering for an answer and just wanting to stir the pot, "Or perhaps you were". Alastor's sentence gets interrupted by the loud rumbling of doors slamming open.

In the doorway, you see Vox glaring at Alastor, teal sparks of electricity igniting from his antennae. Oh shit, he's pissed! Good luck, Alastor, because you're about to get your ass beat! Just when you think a battle is about to go down, Vox strides over to you and slings you over his shoulder, rushing you out of the building as fast as possible. "Ah!" you yelp at the unexpected move, "what are you doing?!". He doesn't answer, only exhaling roughly as he ushers you over to his limo.

A VoxTech employee opens the limo door for you both with haste. Vox throws you through the door, landing on the plush limo seats as he follows soon after. The employee closes the car door and retreats to the driver's seat after Vox gets in. “Driver!” he calls out, “put up the privacy divider and stay parked!". The driver does as he says with a weak "Yes, Mr. Vox" in response.

"Love?" you spoke quietly as he sat across from you, a menacing look on his face. "աɦǟȶ were you ɖօɨռɢ with ɦɨʍ?!" he asked, voice glitching as his anger rose. "What-? Oh, Alastor? Nothing, he just-" Vox cuts you off by yanking your arm, examining the place where Alastor grabbed you, "Why was he FᵾȻꝀƗNǤ touching you?!". "I-I don't know I tried to walk away from it," you explain, trying to get him to understand, "nothing happened, I swear!". He releases your arm and leans closer, faces inches apart from each other, "It doesn't matter if nothing happened! He still fucking touched you! Have I not made it ᵽɇɍfɇȼŧłɏ apparent that you're ʍɨռɛ, or should I have been more clear?". Before you can respond, Vox pushes down on your shoulders, sending you down on your knees on the limo floor. He kneels on the seat, one hand undoing his belt while the other pushes two fingers into your mouth, "I'm gonna make it clear to all of Hell that NØɃØĐɎ ɃᵾŦ MɆ is allowed to touch you. Got that, princess?". You speak in a muffled tone, trying to talk coherently with teal claws shoved in your mouth is nearly impossible, "Mmph, what do you mean?".

Vox chuckles grimly and removes the digits from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting your lips and his claws. He pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard, leaking cock, just inches away from your face. "What I mean is," he begins, tangling his fingers in the back of your hair, "I'm gonna claim you as mine, and everyone in this ring of hell is gonna see that...". Your eyes flicker up to him, heat pools in your core as you anticipate what's to come, "Vox..?". "Shh," he coos, pulling your head into his cock, "smile for the camera, doll.". The last thing you see before being pushed onto his dick is a red dot blinking at the top of his screen. He's recording you.

Before you can dwell on that, you suddenly find yourself being face fucked. You wrap your lips tightly around his needy cock as he thrusts into you, teal claws digging into your hair for balance. His tip graces the back of your throat with each thrust, causing you to gag. "Relax, princess, don't choke," he murmurs, releasing his tight hold on you to lovingly stroke your hair. You moan softly at his affectionate touch, sending vibrations through his length. That was enough to send him over; he thrusts in your mouth with reckless abandon as he rides out his orgasm. Hot spurts of cum shoot down your throat and you swallow every last bit of he.

He pulls out of your mouth and makes eye contact with you, his glare is possessive and dominant. The red dot is still blinking at the top of his screen, he's definitely not done with you yet. Vox pats the seat beside him, signaling for you to sit. You do as he says. The arousal between your thighs starts to become uncomfortable, begging to be dealt with, "Please, Vox...". Vox smiles sinisterly, moving over you until you're pinned down on the limousine seats, "Please, what?". "Please," you beg, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "fuck me...".

With that, a low growl escapes Vox's throat and he immediately gets to work undressing you. He doesn't even bother taking them off. Instead, he uses his claws to rip them straight off your body. "Vox! Those are my nice clothes," you reprimand. He scoffs with a playful smirk, "They were stained with ink anyways.". He removes his shirt and discards it on the floor, laying his weight fully on top of you. Pressing kisses to your neck, you feel his already full-mast erection prodding against your stomach. "Besides," he speaks between kisses, "I'll just buy you new clothes. Whatever you want, on me.". Your heart flutters at his words, how can he be so sweet and so fucking crazy at the same time?!

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as his eyes rake over your naked form appreciate. He reaches out and traces a claw across your curves, stopping at your breast and squeezing the mound. "Mine," he mutters softly. His hips snap into yours in a brutal rhythm, his large cock filling your dripping cunt completely, "You're mine, understand? This body, these curves... everything belongs to me now.". "You speak between moans and gasps, "Y-Yes, fuck, just please don't stop...". Each powerful thrust sends him deeper, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the limo. Poor driver, he can probably hear everything.

He pistons into you harder, "Fuck, doll, you're taking me so well." Reaching out, he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You don't bother responding, you're too preoccupied with the immense pleasure in your core.

Moans and grunts slip out of your mouth as you get fucked senseless, your orgasm impending. Vox recognizes that you're close and grabs at your nipple, "F-fuck, you're close. Beg for it, beg for release.". The added pleasure of his touch sends you almost over the edge, desperate for release, "Pleasepleaseplease, Vox, I can't wait any longer...". He leans forward, chuckling lowly as he whispers in your ear, "Come.". Your pussy clamps down on his cock as you cum, eliciting a guttural groan from Vox's throat. His hips jerk erratically as he chases his own release.

He comes once again, spilling his seed deep inside you as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over him. For a moment, you remained inside each other as you caught your breath. Vox withdrawals from you with a 'pop' noise, sitting up on the limo seats. You reposition to lay your head on his lap, his hands moving to play with your hair as you rest on him.

The one blinking red dot fades out, "Hey, Vox? That recording isn't going anywhere, right?". He laughs softly, running his claws through your hair gently, "No no, that ones for my personal connection.".

Liar. What you don't know is that the whole recording was a live broadcast to all of the VoxTech channels, just a 'friendly' reminder of who you belong to <3

The end :]

--

ENJOY!!!! last day of kinktober (4 now until i get more requests) so onto the Help Me series!!! did ygs like the text thing? bc if so i wanna put it in my series for help me for the future so lmk!!!

[deafsignifcantother]

sanctum

♥ summary: after being flabbergasted at meeting a deaf person for the first time, and after husk gives him a little lesson, angel approaches with an apology. based off of if music be the food of love woot woot but i changed the reader to be a little less obvious it's the other protag so it's easier to consume for people who aren't interested in the series bc i love my audience :3 ♥ relationship: angel dust and x deaf woman reader (platonic) ♥ word count: 2.2k ♥ notes: for @glitched-out-dusk , reader talks with alastor a lot bc i actively hc alastor knows asl and i'll never change that in my stories

The first time Angel saw you, he didn't try to communicate. He just analyzed you, staring you up and down, wondering if you were faking your Deafness. You stared at him back with a small smile. The moment only lasted a few seconds since Charlie decided it was time to butt in and start a conversation with you. Angel kept glancing over, his arms crossed, watching your body movements and how your eyes flicker around. You stare at others' lips, which is a weird habit, and though you have a clueless look in your eyes, you never look away from others' faces.

You are the first visitor in months after Sir Pentious. Since he came, Charlie hoped another visitor would seek redemption, and her positive affirmations came true. Angel only has expectancy this day. It's not like any other person will come knocking on the door.

His brain sinks into dirty thoughts while he watches you: how loud would you moan if you were doing the nasty? What would please a deaf girl most?

Husk can practically hear the porn star's thoughts, but Angel Dust's forcing those thoughts into his head to repress what he really feels. His heart decides on feeling a tinge of forsaken loneliness, he's going to be forgotten again, isn't he? But you're the one most isolated with the language barrier. You might be the forgotten one, right? Does he, selfishly, want that?

It is all Angel can do to imagine what you must be feeling, understand the situation you've found yourself in; dealing with everybody and losing social interaction. He's become a part of that cause, hasn't he?

Damn you. Damn you for forcing him to learn something new. Damn you for making him realize how empty he feels in the group and how he doesn't want you to feel the same way.

So sometimes, after you go to sleep, he'll stay up with Husk, both cooing at him and begging him to teach basic sentences.

Simple signs stick with Angel, even as drunk.

"Is hello that easy?" He asks. Husk just laughs.

"Some signs are a lot easier than you'd think."

Husk is rusty in his ability. He's only had to use the language a few times when he was alive, and he doesn't remember ever interacting with an actual Deaf person. Surely, he had learned it for a good reason. His soul is so long gone that he can't even remember.

But the alphabet sticks with him, and so do gambling-related signs. He picks apart those sentences and tries to teach Angel the words rather than their meanings when pieced together.

And one night, not even a week since you arrived, somebody tapped Angel's shoulder as he leaned over the bar's counter.

He turns, hair bouncing with the whip of his head, and he bites the inside of his lip when he sees you. He finger spells your name, and you can only give him a sympathetic smile in your sleepy haze.

"Good job," you sign to him before turning to Husk. "Do you have water over here, or is it in the kitchen?"

He stares at you blankly. You, water, pointing to the bar, pointing somewhere else, question face. "Yeah, give me a second."

Angel eyes you, taking notes in his head. Your hands move slower when you sign to Husk, compared to signing with Alastor, and you tend to sign high so Husk can focus on your hands instead of your eyes.

Holding back a yawn, you rub your eyes while sitting on a stool, taking the very full glass of water and sipping the top. If you sit here, they'd have to acknowledge your presence, but they need to be more confident to hold a conversation. What could they even talk about? Card dealing? Sex?

You look between them and smile to yourself, dropping your head and looking away in case they try to start signing. You're just here for water, not to be a test subject. The more they practice, the better they'll be.

A small groan leaves your throat. As you turn to Angel, he stops talking to Husk, closing his lips and searching your lifted hands. You sign your name, giving him your name sign, hoping he'd understand. When he stares at you in panic, you fingerspell your name and then wave it off, signing your name again.

Husk speaks up, dropping his voice. "It's her name. You don't gotta fingerspell it all the time."

Angel glances over, whispering as if you'd overhear. "Do I gotta use it everytime I see her? When do I use it?"

"It's a fucking name, you don't go around naming Charlie every time you see her."

Your eyes flicker back and forth between the two of them. Husk pauses, and so does Angel, almost in alarm.

"Idiots." You're not even sure they understood the insult, but you keep going. You grab the glass with one hand, signing with the other. "I know you filled this up just to keep me here."

Husk shrugs, pretending to understand, and grabs a bottle (copying your actions) and drinks it. Angel stares with red cheeks, awkwardly holding his own and mimicking the movement.

You fight a frown; they're so annoyingly cute.

So you chug the drink, closing your eyes as you do so. Angel would have preferred if you had stayed, but he had to say his goodbyes with his hand twitching as if he was waving wrong. You get up from the stool. "See you tomorrow," to Husk and a simple wave to Angel.

They both watch you walk off.

"Could have been worse," Husk mumbles.

"Great. What if she thinks I'm a dumbass." He puts his check in his hand, his elbow pressing hard into the wood of the counter. The words sound faint coming from Angel. The change of heart has Husk grinning behind a bottle. "What's come over you?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing, it's whatever."

.

Once again, once you wake up, you walk downstairs and head straight to the bar. But Husk isn't there. A prominent frown falls onto your face. The water you drank last night was the most comfortable liquid you've ever had the pleasure of drinking in Hell. It cleared your throat and overstayed its welcome in your need for hydration. You enter behind the bar, eyeing the crazy amount of bottles and the array of fridges. How does he remember all of these products? Perhaps he just drinks them and hopes they do something. Your hand runs across the area for mixing, feeling the sticky covers. Maybe he's not the best bartender.

You grab a glass, wiping off the rim just in case, and you eye the hose-like thing nearing the sink.

Husk watches from afar but your focus is too direct to perceive his presence. You push down on a trigger as lightly as possible, and a powerful burst of water fills the cup, wetting your arms. You place the glass on the counter and use a hand towel to dry yourself off. Is this thing stained? You hope not. It's so unclean back here.

You see the blurry colors of Husk in the corner of your eye before you look up at him. He can't help but give you a small, unadorned smile.

You figured the water out yourself; that's cute; the whole ordeal was a show he would have paid to watch.

He crosses your body and stands next to you, grabbing the hose from you and showing you the switch on it. It's not a button but a pressure-related scale. Your mouth forms an O.

Angel isn't the only one who wants you to feel welcomed.

Vaggie is having issues letting Angel be the second guest getting so close to you. She knows that he is undoubtedly someone who can't read the room and will fit sexual words into any conversation. His ability to read the room is either nonexistent or actively ignored. She watches him practicing signing with Husk whenever he can. Maybe he's trying to learn complete sentences before harassing you.

She also notices that whenever he hears the click of your shoes against the floor, he'll look up with excitement, clenching his fists to calm down his delight. He always tells himself, 'this is the day I'll actually talk to her.' The day doesn't come for a while since whenever he sees you, you're by Alastor. Alastor will tell you stories about his life (lies?) and things that happened in the hotel. He'll describe the nightshade assemblages before explaining how often their railings have fallen apart.

Angel can't understand anything that demon says but glimpses at your hand shows how comfortable you are around him. Angel stares expressionlessly at the two of you, signing back and forth, and your smiles, wide. The jealousy heats him constantly, but nothing ever comes from it.

It will take a while before he can talk to you like that. The realization puts him on the brink of giving up.

Beer dribbles downward, discoloring the tips of his chest fur. The bar is messy, as if it's not the middle of the day. His confidence rises when he drinks. All he needs is a moment where you're alone. Or not.

With all his might, he drags himself sloppily towards the lounge and almost flops onto the couch next to you. He steps over the threshold, inhaling deeply. Alastor eyes him with his every step, and you follow his gaze, staring at Angel. Angel braces himself by gripping the top cushions when he staggers close enough to the couch. He raises his right hand, fingers wiggling in thought. It almost comes across as a "wait."

Alastor's eyes go to you, half expecting you to look back at him and roll your eyes, but you continue your stern gaze at Angel.

Angel drops his head, looking up at you through his eyelashes, "I'm sorry."

The chandelier darkens his face from above, and gravity pulls down the fluff of his head that seems to have been unbrushed this morning. At your silence, his confidence melts leisurely down from his head to the tip of his fingers.

"Sorry for what?" You drop the smile that was on your face and adjust yourself to face him a little more. The major thing you notice is him signing with one hand comfortably.

"I'm sorry you only have him to talk to." Angel's interpretation of 'him' wasn't a point but a wave in the direction, almost a 'that guy over there.'

You laugh. "We are talking now, aren't we?"

More apprehension burns a hole in his chest. He finally stands up, using two hands instead of one. "I'm running out of signs I know."

"Are you sure?" You finally switch your position on the couch to face him completely, ignoring Alastor at last. Your eyes look him up and down. "You look tired."

Tired, he knows that sign.

"Just a little."

You hum, reaching out to him. Your fingers brush his fur, feeling the drip, trying to wipe it away. "Sure."

You unveil a smile that looks as if it were snatched from Charlie's at her bondings. But your eyes continue to stare intently. "You should go to sleep. Stop drinking so much. It's not even night."

"I got things to do."

"Really? Astonishing."

He snaps into focus. One day, he was worried about whether he was waving right, and days later, he signs simple sentences you understand. His vision aims at your eyes, the area he wonders he should actually be looking at.

His thoughts are interrupted by the clearing of a throat. "I'm afraid you're intruding," Alastor says. Angel frowns at him, and you follow his gaze.

"Alastor," you sign with a psah, "he's just practicing."

"Rather annoyingly, my dear. I don't know how you do it."

"With patience."

Patience, Angel doesn't know that sign. When you whip your head back and give a playful shrug, you lean in. "He's going to get pissy if I talk any longer. You're doing a good job, Angel. Don't doubt yourself."

You grab his hand, holding his pointy fingers and maneuvering his fingers to form a thumbs-up. If he doesn't understand half of your signs, at least he can understand that. And then, with a wink, you turn back to Alastor, who lets out a hum in disapproval at the whole ordeal.

The flicker of the lights went unnoticed as Angel marched over to Husk, a big smile on his face. He had left a manly collection of bottles surrounding the area, which Husk had politely taken care of.

Husk chuckles before Angel can even get close. "Yeah?"

"You won't believe it," Angel boasts. "I actually got her approval."

"Wow," it almost sounds sarcastic. "Good work."

Angel plops down on a stool, holding the edge counter to stretch out his hands, dramatically straightening his shoulders and putting pressure on the middle of his palms. "Now, whiskers, do I get a reward? I've been a good boy."

Husk grimaces as if he's smelled a foul odor. "Not excited for the day you learn how to sign that."

"She'll be ecstatic," Angel smiles at himself. "Won't even see it coming."

[bichietozier-s]

🕷️Catch You On The Web!!🕸️

An Itafushi spiderman socmed au ❤️

In which Yuuji Itadori, newly a sophomore in college who still has not a clue what he wants to do with his life, gets bitten by a radioactive spider and gains new abilities, stats and powers. He's coasting on his raw athletic ability, a full-ride scholarship handed to him despite his less-than-perfect grades, when he realizes he's got way more ahead of him than he'd ever imagined. Including, but not limited to, a newfound crush that also throws him for a loop.

you are reading:

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

notes:

Relatively short part today 🙂‍↕️ but MEGUMI NEXT PART TRUSTTT - also, all texts are from yuuji's pov !!

It’s been two weeks since Yuuji was bitten by that god forsaken spider, and while the bite itself had simmered down and was no longer irritated, everything else about his body was becoming stranger and stranger. 

He’d noticed a bunch of little things that seemed to add up pretty quickly with how significant they affected his daily life. The sticky hands, being number ONE on that list. Seemingly the hardest thing to write off as a coincidence and something that was just… odd, it also wasn’t just something he could ignore when it happened, because then his hand was uncontrollably stuck to something, and he couldn’t UN stick it. The number of times that he’d been late to class over it this past week was becoming a nuisance because now, Nanami was stepping in to ask Yuuji if everything was going alright outside of class.

How was he supposed to tell him, yeah, everything’s just dandy! My hand just glues itself temporarily to random things at random points in the day, but I’m figuring it out!

He’d be sent to the nearest psychiatric ward. Or maybe, Shoko would pick apart his brain, which might just be worse.

Among the other things he’d begun to notice were things like an increase in his strength, which suddenly seemed to become inhuman. Yuta dropped his pencil when they were hanging out the other day in he and Toge’s dorm room, and Yuuji nearly threw his desk across the room when he lifted the corner so Yuta could retrieve it. 

“Holy shit, Yuuji, that definitely wasn’t necessary,” Yuta laughed awkwardly in shock at the desk which now sat on its side. All Yuuji could do was stand and stare at it, dumbfounded.

“I literally only meant to lift the corner, I’m being so serious right now,” his flat voice really showing that he didn’t even know what to make of the situation.

Yuuji also noticed his reaction times (mostly becoming apparent at his football practices) were increasing too. Something he wouldn’t normally even see coming because it was when his eyes were closed, or when his back was turned, he’d have taken care of before he even realized what he was doing. Like his body was reacting before he was.

The last thing was his oddly fast healing time. Bruises would only last a day or two, depending on the severity of the injury, and past that there’d be no evidence that there ever was an injury in the first place. This one especially was a bad thing for Yuuji of all people to deal with because that just meant he could be as reckless as he wanted and not face many consequences, if any at all. He was already a klutz and an airhead most of the time, so now he was just a ticking time bomb for stupid decisions. 

Since all of this started around the same time that Yuuji received the spider bite, he’s a tiny bit suspicious that the two are related, but he can’t reasonably put the two things together in a way that feasibly makes sense in his mind. Why would a spider bite give him weird superhuman powers???

author's note:

tehehe writing this is soooo much fun for me i rlly hope everyone feels enough in character :o and as a reminder if youd like to be added to the taglist pls dont be afraid to ask! :3c i do nawt bite 🫶🏻

jump to:

Prologue | Previous | Next

taglist:

@meme-ty7 @runfrme

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 17 thoughts

whispers softly. man... i need a minute. shaky breath.

okay. i'll start at the top like always. AUGH THE TEARS. fighting them. okay. need to put on some sad songs to accompany the 45-60 minutes it will take to type all this up

so, i sat down ready to see where this was gonna go. in fact i noted that i was incredibly locked in. which i continue to believe that i was.

we see a submarine, which is a type of craft i just do not trust. even before all that went down last summer. too scary for me. but they see something giving off a signal. and despite being a cartographer ship, they have missiles. and they're gonna go towards the thing they see on the radar, because they were told to. which seems wrong.

but then all their power is knocked out!!! and they are ordered to surface. but how will they do that under a ton of ice?!?!

title sequence. i was expecting different than the usual "the truth is out there" but i guess it's just business as usual over here despite it all

back to where we left off: scully's on the phone with real mulder and fake mulder is in her room. she hangs up on real mulder and tells the fake one that it was a wrong number, which had to be confusing to real mulder.

she tells him to put his hands on the wall, and he makes some quip about being shot before and not caring for it, and for a minute i'm like oh shit, that's a very mulder thing to do- what if he is, in fact, real mulder, and it's fake mulder on the phone? but that theory didn't make much sense anyway and also it was quickly put to rest by the fact that he started beating the hell out of scully.

so time skip: real mulder shows up to the scene with his "sister", who says the alien hit man is gonna call and ask to make a trade: scully for his "sister", and yeah, quotes are verbatim, i was still not buying this whole family relation thing

but his "sister" says that she knows how to kill the alien hit man: you have to hit the base of his skull. maybe. she isn't 100% certain. and also you can't miss because their blood is toxic. which we actually did already know!

and he's getting suspicious. why won't she explain exactly where she has been all this time? and what's this deal with her "father"? he's yelling at her at this point and i get it because it's not adding up to me either

she says that the aliens have been trying to establish a colony on earth since the 1940's, and:

"it's their belief that the stewardship of the planet is being forsaken" <- okay yeah. can't argue there. some of us are trying, aliens. i am not one of the mega companies pouring nuclear waste into the ocean. but maybe y'all could do a better job. and she continues:

"and that by default they'll someday become the natural heirs" <- well hey. you were sounding reasonable but now you are not. have we considered that maybe the people already here could give it another go free from the shackles of the 1%? you're acting like it's an estate sale and buddy we're still living in the house. you lost me there, and i was willing to hear you out.

she says that all of the clones worked at abortion clinics to gain access to fetal tissue, so they could combine human and alien dna. which i imagine had to be a good pr boost for abortion clinics (heavy on the /s here)

and the killer is after them because their experiments with mixing alien with human dna were not sanctioned, so they're "diluting the race", which i guess seems like the thing they would be worried about.

he doesn't seem to fully buy it, because he says "that's a good story, but i've heard a lot of good stories lately" which is true!!! our old worstie ambrose chapel was a liar, remember? or at least someone impersonating him was doing some lying!

"i'm your sister, fox, you have to trust me" UM PROOF?? have we done a dna test??? you can't just show up like that!!!!!

skinner knocks at the door... but is it really him? or the shapeshifting hit man????

"why are the lights out?" skinner asks quite reasonably "orders from my ophthalmologist" he says, lying very easily for a man for loves the Truth. but it did make me giggle.

sister approves that it is really skinner! only after they set a trap to get him just in case it wasn't. again i ask why she can tell if it's the man or not but okay. we move past that.

he makes introductions: "this is my sister, samantha mulder" to which skinner replies "WHAT"

and yeah. i would react the same!!!!

(also weird to hear mulder used as a last name. to me that's just the guy. you know?)

NOOO his phone rings. it's scully calling from a payphone. "he says he's gonna kill me if you don't give him what he wants" oh. okay.

there's no time to explain to skinner what is going on so!!! just please trust me, he says!!! and he does. another point for skinner, who is like a strange uncle or cousin to me.

they go to do a hostage trade: "samantha" for scully. and is this the same bridge where they did the hostage deal for mulder at the end of s1? do they only have one bridge for hostage deals. might be a bit much to have 2 in one city.

skinner has a sniper in the bush, ready to shoot at the base of the alien hit man's neck during the exchange. okay save the day mister sniper please.

AUGH HOSTAGE EXCHANGE. it's so tense. i paused here to write how tense it was, which did not ease it in the slightest. the hit man has a gun to scully's head and it's recalling mulder's early trauma with hostage exchanges. they're waiting for the right moment to shoot....

scully's in the car!!!! but samantha tried to use the needle that kills the aliens and she MISSED and the sniper shot was messed up and then there's firing and is it the sniper? or is it the hit man? who is hit? it is very unclear!!!!! both hit man and samantha tumble into the cold water beneath.

he's still at the bridge, staring down into the place he last saw her. scully comes out to join him, and he says "you should be at the hospital" (she has gauze on her head and says she was just discharged)

he's staring into the water, trying to come up with different ways she might have lived

"why didn't you tell me on the phone that it was her?" "i couldn't tell you 'cause you'd never let me go through with it" AUGHHHHHHHHH.

(and knowing how the episode ends. i am glad this happened. but in the moment. this was a gut punch)

she asks how he knew it was really his sister (valid question, one i fear he should have asked as well) and he snaps about how could she ask that, and she's like, dude someone with your face and body just kidnapped me???? so the whole who is who thing is a little murky??

(she actually calmly explains this. without any judgement. judgement added was my own. but you can imagine that after this experience, hearing "he's an alien" might still be a bit of a hard sell)

okay, mr. mulder is on the scene. he has to tell his dad he lost his sister. I lost her, he says. emphasis on the I. as if it was an action that he took. fuck.

and his dad hits back with a "you LET this man take your sister?" and son mulder is CRYING. what the HELL this is too much. the man has suffered too much. i'm given flashbacks to the last time we saw him cry when he thought he lost scully forever.

PAUSE. i just know the actors were eating up these lines. ohhh i know they were sinking their teeth into them the way that good dialogue allows you to. when you tap into the soul of a character, a whole person who isn't even real, because the writing cuts to their heart. yeah yeah yeah i knowww they were rolling with it and it felt Good

back to the scene. his father is giving him a guilt trip about how his mother is going to deal with "losing her again". and he's apologizing and crying when his dad pulls out an envelope

"your sis- SAMANTHA" told me to give you this.

the implication that he lost the claim to be considered related to her????? is sooooo entirely messed up?? that is the kind of thing that ruins a person???? holy fuck??

he's sobbing while opening the letter, and it gives an address where she says they can meet up if they are separated... so maybe she's really still out there??? hope has been installed back into "she's not actually dead" camp

he rolls up to the address and parks in an area labeled "NO PARKING". grief will do this to a guy.

but just as he arrives, scully calls and says they found her in the river. NOOOOOO THE NEWLY RETURNED HOPE.... "whatever you're feeling, you can't blame yourself" she says, knowing that he must be putting his whole soul into Blaming Himself

but... her body is melting??? is it an alien body??? is the melting gonna turn into toxic gas?? scully don't stare at it you're gonna get all thick blood!!!!

back to mulder. this man is experiencing all stages of grief at once on the steps of a women's clinic. he goes in and pulls out a gun and boy i sure hope there are no women inside.

someone is in there. it's... someone with samantha's face??? saying that she knows "she's dead"????? "it was all a lie", he mumbles as he realizes he was played

YESSSS I KNEW IT. i knew that was NOT his sister. i knew it was too weird and coincidental to be true. this makes the grief of losing her dissipate entirely so i do consider this a win beyond me just being able to guess where the plot was going

and i'm thinking, how the hell is he gonna explain all this to scully? like, to mom and dad, you will have to play along with the whole "she died" thing, and while that is by no means easy, it is a concrete thing you can say and do. but scully??? how is she going to react to "someone pretended to be my sister and then got killed"

(i suppose mulder could tell his parents that DNA testing on "samantha's body" proved no relation, but that would still be complicated to walk through, because there was no corpse to prove that, you know, because she dissolved- maybe scully could make some paperwork to make it look real?)

back to the matter at hand: these aliens with the same face are saying that he must save their original source. and he says "i am not your savior" which- tea. set your boundaries king. in fact, had i been there, i would have done the opposite of protecting, and instead start blasting these aliens that pretended to be my long-dead sister.

but they have leverage... they know where she really is...... so he doesn't walk out....

hit man arrives!!!!! armed with his needle!!! and mulder goes to confront him, but he knocks him on his back, and sets a fire- mulder's weakness!!!!!!

scully is making a report. she cannot substantiate his claims of aliens. and she's got a cut on her forehead from hit man taking her. my poor queen :(

back to the fbi agent that died in the last episode. he has nasty cuts allllll over. like he was carved with designs. sorry for that imagery but i saw it and must describe it.

she thinks she can solve this case with the power of SCIENCE!!! what killed this guy, exactly? maybe if we can figure it out, the other pieces could fall into place

so the virus that causes the blood to thicken is inhibited by the cold.... which explains our earlier scene of mulder in the ice tub and her yelling about him needing to be cold...

DEEP THROAT 2.0 ARRIVAL? (sidenote does this dude have a real name? like while this was airing what were y'all calling him...)

he tells mulder that the last alien- the one who was sent to kill the clones, our shapeshifting hit man- has been tracked to alaska, and that you have to pick your battles to win the war. telling him not to go to alaska. can you imagine.

scully goes to his place and knocks but no one answers. and his newspapers on at the doorstep. so she busts out her keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey..... heart still melts that she has this.......

and HE KNEW SHE WAS GONNA INVESTIGATE???? he sent her an email..... and he's saying how he wouldn't let her risk her life... nooo don't you weaponize the earlier drawing a line thing, that was about chasing a very vague alien lead to an agent's death, not about investigating ur sister...........

she bursts into skinner's office. and then apologizes for doing so.

(i love this so much. such a tiny detail that tells us a lot about her character. that Need to be good and do the right thing and please those whom she looks up to. ohhhhh)

he asks to speak to her off the record, and it seems at first promising... but he won't help her get in contact with mulder. EVEN after she says please!!!! she is gonna cry!!!!!

skinner's bitching about mulder's actions being a violation of his oath, and she's saying that he saved her life, and he comes back with a "if he wanted or expected you to do the same, he would have told you where he was going"

skinner being a jerk... at this point i began to revoke the point i earlier gave him...

he looks deeply troubled though, and i was like, ohhh, mulder must have promised him to not tell her where he was going... i see into your plans, mulder (<- this is not what happened)

back at mulder's place. scully's searching for clues. there's an x taped to the window again, which must be something he just does sometimes. and there's ominous music.

she falls asleep on his couch, and i swear i actually felt my heart melting at this moment. the way she was curled up. subconsciously trying to hold onto a piece of him. only finding rest where he did. i can't even wax poetic about this because i can't put the words into the right shape. but it is gonna destroy me.

someone is knocking... but who?

DEEP THROAT 2.0?!?!

he tries to act like he just went to the wrong room, but she isn't buying it, following him and demanding to know where he really is

SKINNER IS HERE? GETTING ON THE ELEVATOR????? SKINNER ATTACKING D.T. 2.0??? the girls are fighting!!!!!!!

he makes deep throat 2.0 tell him where mulder is, even when skinner is pinned up and deep throat 2.0 is the one holding the gun, and he said "i've killed men for less", but skinner says that if you kill him, he'll be killing 2 men....... this gag seems to have worked

SKINNER is AT THE DOOR to mulder's place where scully is staying. and he is bleeding from MANY wounds. tells scully where he is without elaborating on the blood pouring from all over. okay skinner. you're real for that. you get that point i was tossing around back. and a bonus one, in fact.

so mulder's out on the ice, and usually him wearing a big jacket would spark joy in my heart. and i won't lie, it does a little. but there is also a LOT of tension going on, so it's very brief. feels wrong to rejoice in the simple pleasures of man in big funny coat when he just had to lose his sister and then learn it wasn't even her.

but he sees some sort of tower and he's going in!!! and a dead guy is spotted.

pause. at this point i am sitting here thinking, man, these episodes are good, definitely among the best i've seen so far. who let these men cook? can we get them back in the kitchen with more regularity?

someone is leading him deeper and deeper into the maze of this... station? sub? and i fear he is being led into a trap. but he finds a very very scared man and having a big man point a gun at him doesn't help with the fear, i'm sure. but is it really a sniveling coward... or the hit man???

and JUST as he almost had me fooled and wondering if mulder was gonna really shoot an innocent guy, BAM! hit man reveal.

mulder keeps asking where his sister is, even while being pummeled by this alien with super strength. and he says "she's alive. can you die now?"

mulder shoots at the alien and he misses the back of his neck, so his toxic blood is filling up the space, and things are not looking good at all. and the alien takes him out and drops him on the ice!!!!!

he's going to break the ice and let him freeze or hit him with the sub as it goes down, both very bad endings........

CUTSCENE TO WHERE WE BEGAN!!!!

scully is bursting in, telling this doctor that he has a virus that can only be slowed by keeping him cold, and he isn't buying it, but just as he tries to get her kicked out of the room, his heart stops, so she intervenes.

and she's calling all the shots- get 100 grams of this and that and a drip of this- and this doctor has had his shift hijacked by a better doctor. he implies that mulder might not make it, and she refuses to hear this out.

and she's.... gently stroking his hair... while this is going down........

and sitting by his bed while he's getting better...

(so are the counts for who has been in a coma now tied? justice is served)

and now she's doing the case conclusion:

"several aspects of this case remain unexplained, suggesting the possibility of paranormal phenomena" <- OHHH??? is this what makes scully a believer? are we gonna see some character changes?

"but i am convinced that to accept such conclusions is to abandon all hope of understanding the scientific events behind them" okay!!! we are getting a deeper look into her philosophy here. yes yes yes give me more. and more i was given:

"many of the things i have seen have challenged my faith and my belief in an ordered universe, but this uncertainty has only strengthened my need to know, to understand, to apply reason, to those things which seem to defy it"

and i love it. i love it so much. seeing how she understands the world, why she knows that there has to be an order to it all, and if it seems there isn't, it's just because she hasn't figured it out yet... and science did allow him to get better... the need to fight a good fight in the way she knows how... yeah... that's lovely...

and she's CRYING at his bedside and holding his arm when he finally opens his eyes. her smile. her gentle "hey". it's so innocent, seeing that he is okay, that he made it through the worst part of getting better.

"thanks for ditching me" aughhhhghhhhh.......

he says he didn't find what he was looking for, but he did find the faith to keep looking. ohhhhh. ohhhhhhh...

the way his faith was gone at the start of season 2, but now it's back, there's something worth fighting for, his sister is out there, there is a world worth figuring out..........

man.

at this point my friend was sending me texts and i was like queen i need a minute. i need a minute. to put these things in order. and honestly i STILL do!

it was an absolutely amazing duo of episodes. i truly loved the writing, seeing them pushed to the brink with each other and with themselves. seeing skinner come into fruition. seeing what motivates them both and how they see the world and how it is entirely different but still driven by hope and faith and a need to learn the truth. and the tenderness of it all. of her sleeping on his couch in his absence, thinking maybe he'll be home soon. of running her fingers through his hair while he was being revived. the fury of being blamed for the loss of his sister, the fury with which she screamed at deep throat 2.0 to tell him where he went off to, the fury of mulder realizing he had been lied to and that his sister had never come back at all. but there still being hope despite it all. because there are things worth searching for. and they can do it together.

man. it was a very good episode but your girl is gonna go watch a silly video because it definitely hit me right in the Feelings!!

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 24

PREVIOUS

“What do you MEAN Smithy is in the hospital with a stab wound to his stomach?!” Nicky’s own voice is agony for his hangover but honestly, how the fuck else was he supposed to respond when he had asked Andrew where FF was and gotten that as a response.

“Calm down.” Andrew says and he looks tired, looks stressed, and maybe even just…a touch nervous?

Nicky isn’t as good as Neil at reading Andrew Minyard. He doesn’t think anyone will ever be as fluent in the language of Andrew Minyard as Neil Josten but Nicky has picked up some key phrases.

He can see when he’s making a joke that is a step too far. He can see when his cousin wants to kiss Neil but is holding back. He can see when his cousin is stressed.

He can see a guilty curve to Andrew’s spine.

“Andrew, answer me honestly, did you stab my sweet baby freshman?” Nicky asks and he’s not sure if the nausea he feels anymore is from horror or from the sheer number of drinks he had put in his system the night before.

Roland usually cuts him off before he gets this level.

Roland also has a habit of pouring heavier when he’s stressed.

Roland also also tends to make complicated fruity drinks that Nicky likes when he’s stressed.

Andrew’s jaw tenses but it’s Neil who speaks up, “It was an accident. It happened during a fight.” Neil says and Nicky throws his hands up in the air.

“You got into a FIGHT with my sweet baby freshman? Sweet little Smithy? The boy who made brownies that made me feel kinda straight for a dead woman?!” Nicky exclaims and sees Andrew and Neil open their mouths to say something but, “I promised him that if he wanted I’d get him something hard that’d mess his GUTS up but this isn’t what I MEANT.” He lets himself collapse dramatically over the table.

“Nicky, shut up!” Kevin hisses from his spot on the couch.

“When the fuck did Kevin get here?!” Because seriously, how fucked up was Nicky last night that he doesn’t remember Kevin coming on this Columbia trip? Where’d he sit? He couldn’t really remember coming over after Thanksgiving. Had Andrew put Kevin in the trunk? Had Andrew put Nicky in the trunk?

“He came with Wymack.” Neil cut in before Nicky started testing reality. “Wymack is at the hospital since he’s…uh…he’s the…”

“Medical Power of Attorney” Andrew answers.

“Yes! Thank you, the Medical power of attorney for Smith. He needed surgery and Wymack wanted to be nearby in case he had to make any pressing decisions.” Neil explains and yeah that tracks, he knows a little bit about FF’s family and knows that aside from his grandma on his dad’s side the rest can go take a long walk off a short volcano observation platform

“Okay, that explains why Kevin is here….how?! Despite all of the unwarranted advice, Kevin is not a medical professional.” Nicky says before turning to Kevin, “So Kevin, what insane Exy-related reason are you here? Don’t lie and say it’s because you want to sign the get well soon card.” He hisses.

“Fuck you!” Kevin spits, “I need to know how long Smiths is going to be out of commission and what his PT is going to look like. He was supposed to be starting during the spring season.” Kevin growls.

“There it is!” Nicky throws up his hands.

“Nicky, just calm down!” Neil pleads.

“How can I stay calm? Andrew stabbed Smithy! So not only is my favorite freshman in the hospital Andrew’s going to end up back on those god forsaken meds again!” Nicky shouts and buries his face in his hands.

“Smith isn’t going to say that.” Andrew’s voice is calm but Nicky can hear the slight edge.

“Oh yeah?” Nicky asks because he could see FF promising to never mention who stabbed him if Andrew would just spare his life. FF was going to be even MORE of a disaster when it came to his anxiety around Andrew. Nicky wouldn’t be surprised if his friend just straight up dropped out after this. His cousin is safe but he’s absolutely going to lose his friend.

“Because he’s saying Romero Malcolm stabbed him.” Andrew finishes.

Nicky sits up.

“Wait, what?” Nicky asks.

“Last night Romero Malcolm was at Eden’s.” Neil says voice even in a way that lets Nicky know that he’s trying to stay calm, “Smith recognized him, heard he wanted to grab,” Neil swallows thickly, “…grab one of my friends and saw them looking at…” Neil trails off and looks to Andrew who shakes his head, “…around for someone to grab.” Neil seems to decide and Nicky knows when something is being hidden from him but he’s more interested in the story than what Neil is hiding at the moment, “He got Romero’s attention so that he wouldn’t do anything bad in Eden’s and let Roland know to call help. He went out alone into the alley but Romero didn’t follow him.” Neil explains.

“Oh thank god.” Nicky sighs.

“Because he’d alerted Jackson Plank was lying in wait to ambush him.” Neil continues.

“Oh dear god.” Nicky exclaims.

“He uh…” Neil looks to Andrew who shakes his head again, “okay we don’t know exactly HOW Smith managed to do it but he beat Jackson up pretty bad.” Neil explains.

Nicky feels his brain stop working.

He has watched FF trip over his own feet, walk into four different trees, and almost sprain his ankle walking across a flat surface. He knows FF has been watching self-defense videos and had even gotten some pointers from Matt but even Matt had told him his better bet was probably just to yell “WOW WHAT’S THAT OVER THERE?!”, point behind the attacker, and run as fast as humanly possible away from a fight.

Neil is still talking.

Nicky boots back up quickly.

“…a gun. He tackled Romero into Andrew and Andrew’s knife ended up in Smith’s stomach on accident while they were wrestling for the gun. Smith is the one who said he’s going to tell everyone who asks that it was Romero. He even said it to me.” Neil says with an awkward laugh.

“And you believed him.” Andrew says and there’s warmth in his cousin’s eyes as he looks at Neil and teases him.

“And I believed him.” Neil confirms.

“Okay, so you swear to me that you did not INTENTIONALLY stab my BFF?” Nicky asks looking at Andrew seriously.

“BFF, seriously?” Kevin asks.

“Best Freshman Friend.” Nicky answers quickly, “Don’t worry Kevin, you lose out to Matt in all regards for my Best Senior Friend.” He says.

Kevin just flips him off but Nicky turns his attention back to Andrew, “Andrew, I need to hear it.” He says .

“I did not intentionally stab Smith.” Andrew confirms.

Nicky lets the horrified nausea leave him with only his hangover nausea.

“Okay, we can work with that.”  Nicky leans back. “Have you heard from that Agent?” he asks looking at Neil.

Neil nods but then looks nervous and shoots a look towards Kevin, “The FBI is sending Browning and a field office agent to talk with us but…Ichirou also contacted me.” He says and Nicky watches as Kevin perks up.

“He did?!” Kevin squawks looking around like he expected the head of the Moriyama family to appear from the shadows.

“He wants to make sure we do our part to keep the Moriyama name out of this. He is going to deal with Romero and Jackson himself.” Neil says looking nervous.

Nicky clenches his eyes shut, “Well you’re not going to mention them right?” he hears Kevin ask.

“Of course not Kevin.” Nicky hears Andrew hiss.

“Good.” Kevin says.

There’s silence in the wake of Neil’s statement.

Nicky takes a deep breath and wishes his head was a little less agonizing. “Why aren’t we at the hospital to see Smithy?” he asks because he has nothing he can do about Ichirou so he may as well put it out of his mind.

There is some grumbling.

“Wymack said that he’ll just make us sit in the waiting room without any updates.” Neil says. “We’re picking up Smith’s grandma from the airport and she’s our ticket to getting an actual update beyond ‘not dead yet’ from Wymack.” He adds.

“What, you really can’t get updates without Wymack?” Nicky asks.

Andrew looks at Nicky and Nicky can’t read a single thing his cousin is thinking.

“What’s Smith’s first name Nicky.” Andrew asks.

“Oh God fucking Dammit.” Nicky’s head hurts too bad for this.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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@i-have-three-feelings

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[1tz-br1ght]

ﾉﾞ✧*。Why I Relate To Capochin✨🌈

Infodumping about my life, capochin, headcannons, and other autistic things! 

TW for mention of abuse, manipulation, power imbalances, pedophilia, and parasocial (?) Relationships

Capochin! Who doesn't love him other then people who don't love him- he's such a silly little guy!! Just a grumpy old man!! A grumpy old man who I, a mentally unwell teenager relate to on a deeply personal level- definitely a bit more then I'm comfortable with- and I know what your thinking, "But Felix! Seriously how relatable can he be-" SHUT UP. SHUT. SH.

.

.

.

Allow me to explain, and I guess spill my organs just a bit- just a WEE bit! So, given only two people on this forsaken website actually know about my personal life and was there to watch it happen I have a bit of explaining to do- so, where do I start... Hm, how's about middle school! Middle school, ah, how lovely- cutting out how much I was relentlessly bullied middle school was my first exposure to this kind of unhealthy relationship that I've unfortunately grown so accustomed to. Long story short I was forced into a relationship, got extremely emotionally attached only to be abandoned and have the things I love most stolen- then people spread rumors about me and blah blah blah I was bullied in middle school and people did not stop that's the short of it!

But then it kept happening.

Again-

And again-

And again.

Each relationship was progressively worse I, being the dumbass I am, only grew more and more dependant on these people who would hurt me, desprate for the approval of people who looked down at me with nothing but hate in their eyes. Starting to see a similarity? Anyways skip to freshman year! 

Highschool! How bad could it be?? Not worse then middle school that's for sure! And believe it or not- I think I'm that loser who peaks in highschool-BUT the reason I bring this up is because of my most recent experience with an abusive relationship I could not get out of.

Michael. 

At the time I was 14, Michael was 17- he guilt tripped me into dating him, used me for what he wanted and smothered me with 'love' if you could even call it that and at some point in this endless loop of hell he turned 18 while I was still 14- a lot more happened in that relationship but the important part is that this is when I hit an all time low and I didn't mention this but I have always been big on cannibalism metophors- and this is around when those cannibalism metophors stopped being uhhh, metophors let's say! 

Yeah things got real bad but I managed to crawl away mostly unharmed-

And I know because that was genuinely a lot for HORRIBLE shit to read I'll give everyone a bit of fluff in my life, I'm doin fine and I'm in a very happy polyam relationship !! I love my boyfriends very much!

Back to the horrible shit!

This kinda manic desperation got really bad after I got away from Michael, my brain immediately opting to viewing my current boyfriend, Oco as a savior of sorts- given hes known me since middle school, got me out of the abusive relationship with Michael and kinda is the only reason I haven't DIED yet- holding him up on this mental pedistal where no matter what he did he would always be perfect and amazing and I would do anything anything anything for him!! 

Yeah, that... That kinda fucked me up- I mean, go figure-

ALL THESE MANY MANY PARAGRAPHS OF TRAUMADUMPING TO SAY, DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN??? GOD this isn't even scratching the surface of the shit I've been through that contributes to why I relate to Capochin so much!! This is leaving out like ALLLLLL the cannibalism and self mutilation metophors I've found myself associated with, pretty much everything that happened that lead up to me holding just... SOME GUY on a mental pedistal for god knows how long- I could genuinely just go on and on and on about it!! But honestly I don't think anyone would really be interested in listening to me info dump about my life more then I already have- we're here for the CAPOCHIN!!! And honestly- I don't really know what to say- I mean I feel like this all kinda speaks for itself, y'know? I mean- fuck man, he just hits a bit too close to home for me sometimes- I love him tho, he's very important to me

If you actually read this far- Uhm, thank you!! You really didn't need to read all this shit- I know it's a lot to take in but I uh- yeah- if you read all this thank you it genuinely means a lot to me <3

[saintbleeding]

i got this funny impression the first time i listened to tma

i mean i got several, which resulted in acute confusion between 91-111 when i realised that gerry, michael shelley, and mike crew were three distinct people (i’d somehow conflated son-of-the-bookshop-lady and lightning-guy, then the two michaels)

but the one that really stuck out to me upon completion the first time was i’d picked up the idea that peter was evan’s dad, and it was such a confident belief that i was actually quite shocked when i realised that it wasn’t actually canonically the case. and my brain kind of didn’t give it up, and i realised that it could actually be possible? like, would it be a bit unusual for someone to give a statement and not mention a child and their other parent? yeah, potentially. would it be weird for peter lukas to be so disaffected by the fact that he fathered a son who died young that, if it didn’t relate to his compelled narrative, he wouldn’t mention it? less weird.

i wouldn’t put it past peter to add little bits of isolation to his life wherever possible--and it sounds pretty on brand of him to tepidly develop a relationship with someone, have a kid, and then pop into the kid’s life just enough that his absence is felt. but what if it kind of backfired? what if the kid really ended up missing his father, and wondering what he was doing with all those months at sea? what if that was, for example, the thing that got the kid into marine biology, then science, then when he went away to uni the kid realised he really liked having friends? what if he knew enough about his family, his father’s family, that he knew he wanted to be an antidote to whatever his relatives were doing to the world, and he therefore tried every day never to let anyone he met feel isolated? what if he and naomi got chatting not just because they were mutually intrigued, but because evan refused to leave anyone forsaken?

i’m not suggesting peter would do something to ensure the death of his own kid. i am suggesting i’d believe that he wouldn’t do a great deal to stop such a thing happening. i am suggesting he’d probably consider an absence like that rather an impressive offering to his god. I am suggesting he may not mention his own son without a--literally--compelling reason to do so.

[ahamkara-apologist]

i dont like cayde either tbh, i got into destiny well after he died and crow was around, so i felt no attachment to him or resent over crow (who i didnt know was rezzed uldren for the longest time lol) i think its because he reminds me of deadpool who's my absolute least-liked superhero

yeah cayde feels like a marvel movie character, which is uh. not great. because i fucking hate marvel movies. Admittedly a huge chunk of me hating him is because of his fanbase, but a good portion is also just because he's an annoying jackass. Like, if he was a middle school teacher? He'd be great. Love his energy if it was directed towards kids and sullen teens. The problem is that I am neither a kid nor a sullen teen, and I do not appreciate getting a front row seat to the clownshow when there's something deeply serious going on for me to deal with (i also was one of those kids who were deeply serious and hated when adults played silly, tho, so. i probs would have hated it even then). The fact that it's all an act and that he's actually deeply insecure also makes it even worse imo, bc whoop de fucking do that means it's INTENTIONAL. I remember playing Forsaken when I just started out knowing that everyone liked him before he died and being excited to meet him bc ooo Cool Blue Robot, and then just going 'oh thank god' by the time that Uldren finally put a bullet through him. Which would have been just an 'eh, not my type' scenario if it wasn't for the fanbase plastering him fucking EVERYWHERE and whining about his death/blaming Crow and Variks and anyone even tangentially related to it even though Cayde was the one who got his ass into that hot water in the first place. Like, it was pretty explicitly his fault that Sundance died. He was a highly experienced veteran guardian and he STILL pulled his ghost out when enemies were around. Sucks to suck!! Why the fuck is HIS death so much worse than the many hundreds of innocents that Uldren slaughtered in his rampage with the Scorned Barons?? Fucking why??

i do feel really bad for the genuinely chill fans who actually like him, because he really is a good character and my type is 'cold/bitchy/angry' (plus I really, genuinely enjoyed him in FS! I wish he were like that when he was alive too!!) but also oh my god. he's insufferable and annoying and he's better off dead in literally every capacity

[asha-mage]

DELICIOUS LEWS THERIN AND ISHY SCENE

"I know how much you hate being alive. But I don't want to do this again." WOOF

Fascinating that this was apparently a targeted strike at the different Forsaken, probably picking them off before the strike against The Pit of Doom.

INTRO RETURNS AW YEAH

A part of me was kinda hoping for a new season 2 one with the Heroes of the Horn, but Spoilers probably meant it couldn;t be. Maybe next time. (Also the Aes Sedai one slaps anyways)

I will NEVER be able to forgive them for making so many hateable men so god damn hot, Bornhold topping the list. And by 'never be able to forgive' I mean 'never be able to thank enough'. (see also: Masema)

28 feels like to small a number of damane for the Seanchan to have in Falme, but I suppose it's a rough estimate and also not including those still in 'training'

The Watches Over the Waves have always been one of those loose threads that never really got touched on. Glad their getting a glancing shot here.

"Prophecies are just the lies of long dead witches" intereeeesting. Not a shocking take for the Whitecloaks to have.

AW YEAH THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLE ROAD TRIP EVER

Dang Lanfear cold blooded still.

Perrin and Avi! Aw yeah again!

......Interesting. What is that mist I wonder?

I continue to be so happy they nailed the Aiel so right.

Man Lanfear and Ishamael really sound like they ARE trying to seduce Rand to be their third.

FUCK that's clever (re: The Whitecloak smoke trick)

Their changing the framing of the Egwene rescue a bit, but their keeping Nynaeve's half of it pretty the same, so I'm hoping it will play out like in the books. Still one of my favorite scenes in the series.

Of course Ishamael steps out of that room and IMMEDIATELY knows that Lanfear is trying to play him

Mat! And Padan Fain! Surprised we aren't getting more of a reaction to Padan Fain is A Darkfriend from Mat, but that is a reveal that's pretty old to the audience at this point.

Moiraine and Lan! Platonic marriage re-established!

I like that they gave this speech to Loial re: heroes of a new age. It's very fitting for his character.

Offff. At least it's white cloaks so Egwene isn't going to have nearly as much guilt for slaughtering them.

FUCK

RANDA AL'THOR YOU ARE THE FUNnIEST PERSON ON THE PLANET

on the one hand i've always loved the Turak vs Rand duel, on the other....yeah probably does not have the sword trainining needed to do that this time round.

By Turak! At least you got to take Suroth down a peg this time!

Glad they kept the ritual suicide of the So'jhin re: Turak's death. It's one of those moments for hitting home just how fucked the Seanchan culture is.

.....Interesting choice to cut Ingtar's confession, especially after making a point to show the Shienar falcon early in the season. By Ingtar!

Oh hey Domon! You took Moiraine's advice I see.

'Take them to the deepest part of the ocean and dump them' Pffffffft. Peak Lanfear

MAY MAKING A NAGINTA WITH THE DAGGER IS SO A?UAHGAUSDUGHASUDGHASDGAUHSDGASUHFADSUHFASDFUH?ASDFASDFASDFAS

[It was at this point that I lost all coherence and stopped being able to liveblog effectively so here are some of my assorted post credits thoughts]

MOIRAINE AND LAN KILLING IT ONCE MORE

I have conflicted feelings about Egwene actually killing Renna, related mostly to the scene from the books being so important to the under laying themes of justice and fate, but I also can't deny that with it's shifted framing, it makes complete sense for the characters, and it heightens the ongoing theme of 'The Forsaken where to Lews what the EF5 where to Rand'.

I also have conflicted feelings about Nynaeve not being the one to heal Rand's wound, but I understand the logic of the choice, even if I don't agree with it.

On the other hand it is BRILLIANT AND INCREDIBLY SMART CHOICE to have Bornhold Senior be the one to kill Hopper, and Perrin to kill him in revenge. It's going to make the Two Rivers stuff A Lot More. It will also make Perrin's conviction to give himself up to the Whitecloaks make a lot more sense.

MAT BEING A HERO OF THE HORN IS INTERESTING BECAUSE MAT SPECIFICALLY WASN'T IN THE BOOKS- HE REFUSED REPEATEDLY THROUGH MANY LIVES. This lends credence to the 'future turning of the wheel' credence of the show which I've always favored anyways.

The scene where all these pivotal character moments are happening while Mat blows the horn, all these different arcs turning on their head, is SO FUCKING BRILLIANT

ALSO CONGRATS ON THE PROMOTION TO HERO OF THE HORN UNO

They don't specifically name drop any heroes in the scene, and I'll have to go back with X Ray to see if any are named, but THEIR SURE IS A BLONDE ARCHER LADY IN THAT SHOW SO FOR NOW HIGH BIRGITTE

ALSO HIGH ARTUR HAWKWING I ASSUME on the one hand it feels weird for your line to be directed at Mat instead of Rand. On the other your part in this scene originally was really just to drive home beyond any shadow of doubt, any ability of Rand to deny it to himself for a reason beyond stubbornness, that he was the Dragon. Rand's already accepted that here so you're not strictly speaking necessary for that, but still.

The shot where everyone is standing united against Ishamael is SO FUCKING GOOD.

Also by Ishamael! We'll see you in a few seasons in your newer, hotter, twinkier body!

(I don't envy the actor that has to live up to Fares Fares, it's going to be no easy task).

ALSO ENTER: THE OTHER FORSAKEN, dun dun dun!

Moggy fucking with Lanfear is so fucking good. FEED IT TO ME SLOWLY WITH GRAPES

GIRL SET HER TRAP AND WAITED FOR LANFEAR TO WALK INTO IT JUST SO SHE COULD GET THE UPPER HAND AND GLOAT IN AN OVERWHELMINGLY LESBIAN WAY WHAT AN ICON

Oh man I am going to rewatch and binge this entire season like FORTY TIMES.

[loonarii]

Ari's K-Pop Roundup: June 2024 (LISA, Red Velvet, NAYEON, NewJeans, KATSEYE, CHUU + MORE)

Hope everyone had a nice pride month - I unfortunately was chained to my textbooks for the brunt of it and didn't do anything pride related, but I did see Taylor Swift, so I guess it wasn't all bad. This is the 5th installment of this series - genuinely didn't think I would make it this far - you can check out last month's roundup here, or see my full masterlist here. Enjoy :)

ROCKSTAR - LISA (BLACKPINK)

It's very rare that we see a kpop idol's pure, unadulterated vision for the music they release due to the manufactured, consumerist nature of the industry, but here we have Lisa, arguably the most popular female kpop idol of all time (at least internationally) free from the company that is widely known for formulaic, repetitive music. Will she stick with the brand YG has created for her and reinforce the box Teddy has placed her in sonically, or will she forge her own way?

Right from the teasers, I knew we were in for something a little different. Although conceptually the chrome, futuristic vibe is nothing new in kpop, seeing Lisa without those god forsaken white washing filters was very exciting. And the fact that k-netizens are taking to it very well?? Lisa is here to rock the boat. 'Rockstar' is only a single with no mini album, but hey, it's Lisa, meaning she doesn't need to boost the length of her releases to snatch those extra sales, she do well commercially regardless. Usually a single album would annoy me, but BLACKPINK are back to releasing music, so today I will let it slide.

With a Kendrick Lamar 'Humble' visual reference in the music video, a Tame Impala sample, and a sneaky little writing credit, Lisa clearly wants to reshape her framing in the industry - with 'Rockstar' she's rejecting the somewhat diminishing 'idol rapper' status, and seeking that 'rapper rapper' reputation. She wants to sit at the table with Doja Cat and Megan Thee Stallion, and 'Rockstar', in my opinion, does a decent job at securing her seat.

You can't reference Kendrick and not put in a double entendre in your lyrics, and Lisa (and her fellow writers) delivered in that category with quite a lot of success actually. In the line 'been MIA, BKK so pretty, Every city I go to is my city' 'MIA' is used to mean either 'missing in action', referencing how absent Blackpink has been from the music industry thanks to YG's interesting management choices, or as a reference to the Miami IATA airport code just as BKK means Bangkok, Thailand - in this context its an allusion to Lisa's multilingualism and her international influence as a member of Blackpink. It's a really good line, is what I'm trying to say.

Most of the issues I have with 'Rockstar' stem from the songs length. With the base track clocking in at 2 minutes 18 seconds (oh my god what have we come to), the song feels like it's just begun when it's all over. Excluding the choruses, hooks, and pre-choruses, and pasting what remains together, we are left with one singular, honestly quite short verse. Yeah it's a pretty good verse, both in flow and lyrical content, but one verse in what is clearly trying to be a rap song is unacceptable.

'Rockstar' is frustrating to me because while it has its genuinely great moments, like when 'lala' is used in reference to singing and to Lisa's real name when bounced onto the next line, a lot of that greatness gets eclipsed by the track's shortcomings (pun somewhat intended). However, although she's done solo work before in YG this is undoubtedly something of a debut, and through that lens, while it is flawed, the track shows potential. 'Rockstar' knows exactly what kind of song it wants to be, and even though it doesn't quite measure up, it's still a step in the right direction. I'm very excited to see what Lisa does next with her career. At the very least, 'Rockstar' was fun, for sure.

Cosmic - Red Velvet (Cosmic)

When I write these reviews, I try to describe the feelings and emotions and energies the song in question evokes, and I have found that when I struggle, the song is good - and I mean exceptionally good. 'Cosmic' is one such track - I fucking love every part of it - it's so addictive to the ninth degree, from that gorgeous music video to the low and slow verses to that utterly euphoric chorus. From Joy's slightly psychotic edge to her lines that she perfected in the 'Peekaboo' era, to Seulgi's vocals in the hook, and Wendy's high note pulling us into that final chorus; everything about 'Cosmic' WORKS. Lines like 'I'm riding on your rhythm through the solar system' and 'love is cosmic' work both in their catchiness and emotiveness. This era is obviously inspired heavily by the 2019's 'Midsommar', a visual feast of a horror film about a disturbing Scandinavian cult, and let me tell you, if 'Cosmic' is a cult, consider me initiated. Not to spoil my end of 2024 ranking or anything, but as for right now, 'Cosmic' is taking the cake for the best kpop song of the year, no questions asked.

Red Velvet b-sides always hit, and the 'Cosmic' mini album delivers as expected. 'Sunflower' furthers that 'i just took an edible and i found my way onto Spotify' energy, and that hook of 'OOH WOW FEELING SO FUN FUN FEELING SO FUNNY' is hilariously good, this is a standout for sure. The other b-side I want to highlight is 'Night Drive', the album closer. With elements of citypop and 80s synthpop, 'Night Drive' feels like exactly that - a 3am drive around a city you hardly know with people you know better than yourself. It's a celebration of music, and that's putting it lightly.

SM might be working up to shunting Red Velvet into their peripheral vision, what with the new 12 member girl group debuting soon, but 'Cosmic' proves their legend status once and for all. We freaking love you RV, never change. (And I would in fact join a cult if Seulgi was my fearless leader xx)

ABCD - NAYEON (NA)

Look, JYP may be my op until the day I die, but I'm not going to sit here and lie - he knows how to write hits when he wants to, and 'ABCD' is a HIT.

2022's 'POP!' was just that - pure, unadulterated pop music, exactly what was trending in Korea at the time - the image of modern kpop. And don't get me wrong, I loved it, but when it came for Nayeon's first comeback, I was worried she was again going to pull from the current trend cycle, and right now that means airy, Pinkpantheress type beats with a UK garage adjacent vibe - and that's not Nayeon. Her voice is full and powerful and rich in colour and flavour, a song like that just wouldn't work for her. I was nervous, for sure, but when the teaser dropped, I knew it was going to be good. In 'ABCD' Nayeon is rejecting the trend cycle almost entirely - it still flaunts that 00s vibe unabashedly, but here we are pulling from a trumpet fueled 'Crazy In Love' Beyoncé energy, and oh boy does it work. The lyricism in this song goes crazy, that chorus is masterfully written and unbelievably catchy, and that post chorus build up is INSANE. Nayeon's range is on full display here, and she sounds incredible.

The rest of the mini album is pretty amazing too. 'Butterflies' has some super interesting vocal layering, and many great moments like 'a little mental picture, every time I'm with ya' - and although it's pretty clear this was supposed to be a TWICE track once upon a time, with Nayeon even appearing to imitate the members' styles of delivery (it's like I can hear Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Chaeyoung on this track clear as day) it's still an easy hit that I can't help but love. 'Heaven' doesn't quite work for me, it's not unlistenable, but the feeling that it has simultaneously too much and not enough energy perserveres, unfortunately. 'Magic', the song that my girl Julie features on is pop perfection, and these girls work so well together - Julie's interjections are so catchy and her parts steal the show entirely. 'Magic' is a bonafide hit. 'HalliGalli' is very AKMU (as to be expected), but I can't help but feel like it's a little immature, both for Nayeon and this album. It has some fun elements, but the complete track just isn't it for me. 'Something' is a fun pop song, if a little dull at moments, but that post chorus is a stunner. 'Count It' brings down the tempo of the album a little, in a groovy track with some beautiful vocal production - it's exactly the punch up the tracklist needed after the weaker couple of tracks that precede it.

Nayeon is my blog namesake, and she has done me proud on this album. Yes, some tracks were on the weaker side, but the overall product is strong, with Nayeon's oustanding performance on every track, and a killer title song in 'ABCD'. In terms of other TWICE members getting solos, I would love to see how Sana approached a song on her own, or even Tzuyu, who despite being the maknae and visual, tends to get lost in the sauce of a lot of TWICE releases. We will have to see, I suppose.

Right Now + Supernatural - NewJeans

God, I sound like a stuck record every time NewJeans drops some new music, but holy hell is it always good. Following their 2nd single album 'How Sweet' earlier this year, the girls are dipping their toes into the Japanese market for the first time with two tracks - 'Supernatural' and 'Right Now'. NewJeans have captured the attention of all of South Korea pretty much, it's now time to look further afield.

'Right Now', drenched in sassy lilting vocal runs, is bedroom pop at it's finest. The up-and-down choral melodies evoke the energy of a 2am gossip debrief at a sleepover with your best friends. The dichotomy of Minji's languid repetition of 'I don't care' with a chorus that speedy and spirited is humorous and perfectly captures what it is to be a teenage girl with a crush. NewJeans know who their audience is, and are making music directly for that.

'Supernatural' came next, embracing that New Jack Swing sound wholeheartedly - its very 'early 00s street dance movie'. It's quite a bit more mature than 'Right Now', the girls decorating those gorgeous synths and groovy instrumentation with a genuine collected confidence. As always, it pushes the boundaries of the y2k trend and thematically pulls from the era itself, not other people's recent interpretations of the era. It's experimental for NewJeans I think, which works for a debut, and while it takes a lot of the right risks, and makes a lot of the right choices, the chorus leaves a little something to be desired. The melody and hooks are perfect, I have no issues with them, but the vocal direction needs tweaking. A song like this demands a chant style chorus with all the members in my opinion, and while the vocal layering of the individual members singing attempts that anthemic feel, it comes off as slightly limp-fisted. I'm kind of dramatizing this issue because to be frank, it is rare I find something in a NewJeans track that I can pinpoint as a problem. The song is still of a supremely high caliber, and to be honest, any thinness in the chorus vocals just inspires the listener to fill in the gaps themselves with an impromptu karaoke session.

Lyrically, both 'Right Now' and 'Supernatural' break the kpop-takes-on-the-Japanese-market formula by including not only a blend of Japanese and English lyrics, but some Korean lines too. I find it quite clever, like saying 'this is NewJeans' debut in Japan, but they will always be a korean pop group first and foremost'. While some groups like Girls' Generation and Twice find their discographies split into 2 - kpop and jpop, NewJeans are clearly making an effort to unite both markets under 1 discography.

As a debut, this works. Two tracks united by classic NewJeans production and differentiated by themes and tone. It's really been a rough year for these girls, what with the whole Min Heejin vs HYBE drama and with Hyein's injury leaving her out of promotions for both single albums altogether, but there's a light at the end of this tunnel, and as long as the music stays consistently high quality as it has been, I will have no complaints.

(sidenote: the fact that I wasn't at Bunnies Camp in the Tokyo Dome is a little sick and twisted.)

Debut - KATSEYE

I mean, maybe expectations were unrealistically high since KATSEYE is HYBE's first real stab at the western market, but come on, we all deserved better than this. A half-hearted pop song that fails to innovate in every sense of the word, and they have the audacity to not even make it three minutes. IT'S BARELY EVEN TWO MINUTES. Kpop companies pulling from PinkPantheress constantly is truly a double edged sword, on one hand we get fucking incredible songs like 'LOOP' and 'Super Shy', and then on the other we get every kpop company waking up and deciding that actually it's totally okay to release 2 minute songs and act like it's a completed product. As a British girl, seeing the effects of the recession and the cost of living crisis on the people around me in real time is one thing, but seeing fucking SHRINKFLATION weed its way into pop music as well is like the burning cherry on top of my cesspit sundae.

I genuinely don't know what happened in the production of this song, like they got Ryan Tedder, who has contributed so much great music to this world, and then somehow the end product was so dull and uninspired.

The worst part is these girls are absurdly talented and they are getting served dirt. HYBE - that mini album coming later this year better be good istg. Ok, I'm done ranting.

BUT OH MY GOD TWO MINUTES AND THREE FUCKING SE-

Strawberry Rush - CHUU (Strawberry Rush)

(obligatory note: if you want to stream Chuu's old solo tracks, or any other old loona songs, please stream via the loona podcast or the twelveM account on spotify in accordance with the boycott)

Having the LOONA girls free from that cesspit of a company is one thing, but getting new LOONA music this often is certainly an unprecedented win for me.

Following her re-debut under ATRP in late 2023 with 'Howl', Chuu is back for her first comeback with 'Strawberry Rush'; a mini album drenched in electric pink and cherry red and sunny yellow. Chuu has an innately magnetic quality and Strawberry Rush as a title track takes full advantage of that. It's an utterly adorable song that I genuinely can't imagine anyone not loving. That disco synth thrumming the song's heartbeat is reinforced with a killer baseline, and Chuu's gorgeous vocal colour gives the track even more energy than it already has. The intro and opening are perfect at punching up the mood and setting the scene for the chorus, but it's when Chuu comes in with 'packing that heat, packing that heat, packing that PEW PEW PEW' that the song truly swings into motion and you know that this is going to be a fun one.

The mini album doesn't quite match the energy of it's title track, with it maintaining a more relaxed vibe, but it's enjoyable nonetheless. 'Honeybee' is an acoustic track decorated in summer daisy chains and buttercup bouquets, and it works wonderfully with Chuu's more airy vocals. 'Daydreamer' follows a similar sonic theme to 'Honeybee' but with a more late night nap with the cicadas vibe - Chuu's ability to switch between powerful, call-to-action vocals in 'Strawberry Rush' and featherweight tones in the b-sides is truly commendable. 'Lucid Dream' comes next, a perfect midpoint between 'Strawberry Rush' and 'Daydreamer', heartfelt and addictive. It's a real stand out on the album for sure. 'Chocolate' was released as a single a while back, and I enjoyed it then absolutely, but it makes so much more sense on this album - somehow it just got even more catchy.

Effortlessly adorable, effortlessly catchy, effortlessly perfect - Chuu, you have done it again.

MINI REVIEWS:

Boom Boom Bass - RIIZE: absolutely no notes, im obsessed. I've literally never loved a boy groups music like this before. wow.

Inner Dance - tripleS Glow: tripleS' ability to establish their own sound and musical motifs so early on in their career has served them very well, and 'Inner Dance' shows that clearly. Light and casual and airy, it's the perfect backtrack to your summer break.

Summer Festa - IVE: I usually don't dignify these type of advertisement songs with a review, but this one is actually kind of a bop. A little bit 'Espresso' coded; it's something fun for the summer that inadvertently encourages getting blackout drunk at the hotel bar in Bali. I'm still not drinking Pepsi though. Or Coca Cola for that matter, NewJeans pipe down.

BADVILLAIN - BADVILLAIN: (requested by @a-moth-to-the-light) Although apparently capturing the eyes and ears of seemingly the entire kpop community, this one wasn't hugely to my liking. This might be controversial but my first impression was in fact 'wow this sounds like something babymonster would release' - I can see the appeal but unfortunately these songs just aren't meant for me. I do enjoy the classical influenced production and for the most part the vocal performances were fun too, but with the hook I wish they had bumped up the high note at the end of 'villain' another octave - that's such a nitpick I know but the thought struck me immediately when I heard it. '+82' on the other hand impressed me immensely, such a powerful, call-to-action type song. That background production is a killer, and perhaps I just have Kendrick on the brain from my Lisa review, but the beat feels somewhat along those lines. And holy fuck can these girls dance - wow.

Sabotage - Kwon Eunbi: Can Eunbi release a flop title track? Turns out, once again, no she can't. I love 'Sabotage', it's so hilarious and catchy, and singing along feels like accusing an imaginary boyfriend of gaslighting lol. Woollim giving this song to Eunbi feels a little ironic, considering since she left IZ*ONE, it seems all they've done to her career is sabotage her with poor promotions. The song is fun, and Eunbi sounds excellent as always, with 'Sabotage' boasting many a vocal riff, especially following the bridge. Give this one a listen, and whilst you're there, go check out the rest of my girl's discography, she's truly a hidden gem.