Hey Descendants,
We hope December is treating you all well.
Remember way back in book one when Deez decided she was going to write a letter to the king about herself?
...
Enjoy :D
-Dark-
The next day...
He knew he took most of the gifts in his life for granted. Being a prince, especially the prince of the United Kingdoms of Auradon didn't leave him wanting for much.
That concept had never been clearer than it was now with Mal and her friends.
But receiving these letters always made him feel like he was a six-year-old on Christmas morning.
He knew most people wouldn't understand, but he'd always had such a hard time with the politics of his life. He had to question everyone's motives, their integrity.
It was exhausting.
So when he'd first found the letters, it had been like a godsend.
As far as he was concerned, he was already friends with everyone Deez had written about, they just weren't aware of it yet.
Sometimes it felt like cheating. Deez had taken all the guesswork out of who was worthy of trust, and who needed a push in the right direction. But he knew what each kid was made of, knew their motivations, their wants.
He was never sure how much information Deez hoped her reader would glean from her carefully selected words. But he was pretty sure that he understood a majority of these kids better than they knew themselves.
Except it had been months since he'd gotten a letter. Before he'd talked to Mal and the others, he'd been worried that something had happened.
But this morning he'd gotten a text from one of the barge workers, saying they had a letter addressed to the king, except it wasn't written in stone. He unlocks the door to his library and races for the desk. There it was. In a small crate.
He grins as he looks over the carefully printed name. Yep. It was definitely Deez's handwriting.
He slips around his desk and falls into his chair as he breaks a multi-colored glob of wax with a single small fingerprint pressed into it.
To His Royal Majesty,
You don't know who I am, though that is no one's fault but my own. I've been attempting to show the Isle of the Lost through my eyes for the last several years. If you've been getting my letters. I mean, I saw your second chances announcement on the fireside chat a few days ago, so I'm really hoping you have.
In those letters, I've tried so hard to show the little ways goodness runs through many villain kids here on the isle. I tried to give you their names and who I saw them capable of becoming by explaining their actions and the connections I saw. They deserve to be seen as people after all.
Today though, painful and scary as this is for me, I'd like to introduce myself. Because I've realized, with a lot of help from my friends, family, and my mentor, that I'm not just an outsider hoping to get better lives for people I care about. I want to be able to stay with them through the changes. I want to be part of their lives. No longer just an observer. Which I guess means it's time I turn my writing skills on myself.
Looking back over what I've written about in the past, I realize that I've left out a huge part of what makes isle life so hard. I thought it was because I was respecting their privacy. But now I think it's because I was afraid that if I dove in and talked about everything, you might not want to read more. That it might be easier to ignore the problems if I were to make them seem overwhelming.
And that was my mistake. I believe you're a good person, and more importantly a just King. I hope this information will be carefully considered because any of us would be mortified to find out someone else knows about our pasts and home life. And it's dangerous to put most of this information in writing because it could so easily be used against us.
That's why I have to start this with myself. I can't do this to them if I can't do it to myself.
Ben's lips twitch into a small smile. This was unexpected. In all the years he'd been reading these letters he'd never received one that started this way. It showed the trust that Deez had in the recipient. In him. Finally, some perspective from Deez about herself. He'd been waiting years for this moment. It didn't matter, although he appreciated the details, that the others had already shared so much about her, he could already tell this was going to be different.
And he wasn't just talking about the fact that this letter was on paper.
It felt odd. More real. And promised something more intimate than he'd been privy too before.
Made him feel more responsible for keeping her secrets. Keeping her confidence now that Mal and her gang had joined him.
He couldn't describe the happiness he felt while he read over the line about the fire-side chat again. She'd known it was because of her, that so much of this was because of the work she'd put into giving the king- or rather prince, his own personal library about the kids no one wanted to know, let alone think about.
So, here it goes.
My name is Hyades. It's pronounced the same way as my father's name. I added the Y when Pain and Panic were teaching me the alphabet and how to write my name. They never corrected me though, I think they thought it was cute.
But I mostly go by Deez, or D in some circles.
I'm a bit of an oddity on the isle. Mostly because I was born with fire. And strength. And speed. And the fact that nothing can hurt me. Well, almost nothing, but I'll get to that later. My fire though. That was the isle's biggest concern.
For the longest time, I had no control over my fire at all. It's the reason I used stone to write to you. Once I got a handle on how my fire worked, I continued to write in stone because I was afraid any change would be seen as suspicious.
Master Yensid thinks I'm overly paranoid, but I think that's just what happens when you inescapably live with bad people. Not that everyone here is evil. I really hope I've demonstrated that. But a majority here either are evil at their core, or have accepted this way of life and embrace doing bad things.
I don't. Again though, I've always been an oddity. I've found many others that also don't want to embrace evil, or wouldn't if given the option. Which is something they don't get here. Options.
His smile widens. So far this was turning into a confirmation of what Mal and the others had already told him. Though it was nice to hear it in her words. He chuckles at the realization of how much stock he'd put in her words.
Not that he didn't trust the others. But reading her words was like hearing from an old friend, and hearing her thoughts on herself- He just knew this letter was going to be fascinating.
At the words 'overly paranoid' he can't help but chuckle. That seemed to be a shared VK trait. Especially when, as to date, he'd just found them shrewd. Leave it to these other kids to look down on something most of Auradon desperately needed.
She was wrong, however. It wasn't suspicious that she changed mediums, just frustrating that it took him so long to figure it out.
His lips twist into a bitter-sweet smile when he gets near the end. The thought of his would-be friends stuck with such heinous people bothered him to his core, even if he knew they could persevere through it.
My father might not need an introduction over there, but I'm going to anyway. He is the ruler of the underworld, a God. I've gone through my life wanting his love and wanting him to notice me, be proud of me. It's something all of us villain kids crave. Deep down where we don't want anyone else to see. It's also something we never get. Not without strings attached.
But the other day, as strange as it was, my dad noticed me suffering. For once. And actually gave me some real great introspection on what has been bothering me. It wasn't the first time he's boldly explained something he found obvious, but probably the first time I found it useful. You're the first person I've told. That's probably weird, but it really strikes me as important.
I don't know why it's so hard to talk to others, but it is. It's always been easier for me to write than talk.
His heart aches at the thought of wanting a parents love. He couldn't imagine either of his parents not wanting him. Not understanding him was probably the closest he could understand. His father rarely understood where he was coming from. And often called him out for being too naive and idealistic. It hadn't even occurred to him that something so profound was missing in his friends' lives. He couldn't even fathom how terrible it had to feel to want something so… instinctive as a parents' love and not be able to attain it.
He stares at the letter intently. Unconditional love. He sinks back in his chair. Yet another thing he and the rest of his peers seemed to take for granted. It was strange to think of something so inherent as something foreign to these other kids. It hurt. It hurt on a level he didn't even know he could be hurt.
Is that how Mal and the others feel?
His thoughts drift back to Carlos running away from Dude like he was a whole pack of wolves chasing him down. What he'd said about his mother. The conviction in his tone. The genuine fear in his eyes that the school's mutt might eat him. The thought made his chest ache. He should've guessed something like that.
The fact that Hades noticing his daughter suffering was seemingly rare made his fingers tighten around the letter before it started to crinkle and he drops it to his desk. What the hell was wrong with the Villains?
He didn't even know Deez and could tell she suffered more than the average teenager. No one that sensitive and perceptive, and he would know, could make it more than a week without getting stuck on some harrowing thought or keen observation.
He takes several deep breaths before he picks up the letter again, the pages suddenly heavier in his hand.
He was seriously the first person she told about her father caring about her? The thought made him grimace at the implications. Would the others be jealous or something? Or just simply not believe her?
Part of him wished he'd brought Mal to read this with him to answer his questions. The other larger half, however, knew this, for the moment at least, was something private meant for one other person- Or at least meant for a person she didn't personally know.
If you haven't noticed I'm great at deflection, even in letters about myself. Gil would find that funny, in a mildly exasperated, slightly disappointed kind of way. I can just picture him glaring at me, his face all stern as he explains why that's not a good trait to have. Except his eyes. His eyes at least would eventually smile about it. Typical Deez.
He chuckles, wishing he knew what Gil looked like. But it summed the gentle giant up nicely. Stern but caring.
Back to my past letters though. I've tried to introduce you to the people that have goodness in them as objectively as I can. I call many of them my friends and hope that one day we'll be able to use that word without having to whisper, without having to look over our shoulders, without expecting to be punished for it or called weak. But for now it will remain in our letters only lest someone overhears and they're punished for it.
Hopefully I've painted a picture for you that demonstrates how wonderful they are, and how good they can be when there are no ovs lurking about. But I've never touched on their home lives, or the hard choices they have to make every day. I've detracted from the real issues of the isle, which I now realize has been a huge disservice to my cause, and to you. How can I expect anything to change when I don't inform you of the whole issue?
He swallows. That sounded foreboding. How could not knowing about these kids' home lives be a disservice to them? To him? What was the whole issue?
Which is why I'm starting this change with myself. In the past, I neglected to shine the spotlight on my own life. I know I mentioned it earlier, but I said I would dig deep and be brutally honest.
The reason is, while I am desperate to save them from the isle, I never thought I deserved to be saved. Not once. Not in all the time I've been writing. But now I fear being left behind.
I fear T being left behind. T, the isle's shadow, vigilante, silent hero, I'm not sure which letters you've read, and what title I gave him, but I want you to know I have written about him, and he'll just have to forgive me later for being more direct now. But that's for my next letter...
Ben lowers the letter as he closes his eyes. How could she possibly think she wasn't worth saving when she'd dedicated so much of her life to saving her friends? His mother was going to cry when she read that. He wanted to cry. He swallows hard, unsure he wanted to continue reading the letter if she felt the need to share just to absolve herself of some crime she never committed.
When he gets to the part about fearing to be left behind he has to swallow a lump as he remembers the pain in the eyes of the core four when they told him part of their gang had been left behind. Which ironically included both the girl and boy in question.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited for another letter like this explaining T, but the other part of him felt a sense of weariness.
I've mentioned the abilities I was born with, the ones that can easily be seen. But it's my strange sense of how things are connected that has gotten me in trouble with the others recently, well always, depending on who you ask.
That's how I know so much about my friends, and how I'm able to understand a lot of their motives without them having to speak them out loud. I've learned, mostly the hard way, not to talk about it with them unless they ask, and even then I'm careful. I've found that no one really likes having their layers unpeeled and stripped so thoroughly. T's convinced its a god thing- So now everyone else is too. Me though? I'm not so sure...
Whatever it is, I'm going to do my best to turn that ability on myself and do everything in my power to let you know the real me. Even the stuff I hide. Maybe especially the stuff I hide. Or never talk about at least. In the past year or so it's gotten very difficult to hide anything from Uma, Harry or Gil. Jay and even T, at least to a certain extent, especially where my 'safety' is concerned. Not that T has a normal definition of the word safety...
I have no idea where to start.
I've stared at this for an hour now.
Well, sorry about this, but I'm going to start young.
Ben's lips twitch into the smallest smiles. Back to understanding. He and his mother also had a gift to see the unseen. It was like a sixth sense he'd always relied on that often left him lonelier than not among the sea of royals and socialites he often found himself having to rub elbows with.
The thought that T thought it was some kind of god ability rather than just great intuition with a touch of empathy made him laugh. It spoke volumes on both accounts.
He genuinely felt for her. It was nearly impossible to turn that type of ability inwards, but he was excited to see what she was going to come up with.
And what did she mean about T's abnormal definition of the word safety? Wasn't that universal? He smiles as he continues reading, excited as he was hesitant to read more.
I grew up with the idea that humans, mortals, and well, anything not a god was less than. Even half-gods. You can probably understand where I got that, but I'm going to pick it apart anyway.
My father is, complicated. He's always angry at his brother for trapping him here with the cuffs that block his powers. Once he had me, he realized that the barrier wasn't a problem for him, just the bands. That's why he kept me, I think. Well, for that and for his entertainment. He gets very bored.
So, I think that's where I need to begin. With her. The first person I ever hurt. A woman I never knew, but who gave up everything to bring me into the world. And I killed her with my fire. Before I could even understand what was happening around me, I was already a villain. A murderer. A monster.
You can probably see now why I've always stayed away from writing about myself. I don't know if I'm worth saving, but I also don't want to be the reason my friends never have a chance at a good life. And, I don't want to lose them if they do choose their happiness and safety. This is still a new desire for me, so I apologize for working this out with you. Like I'm not going to edit this out later.
Ben has to blink away the tears, as he places the paper down to his desk.
He couldn't imagine what Deez had gone through writing this. How painful that must have been for her to put to paper. How cruel she must have been to herself while writing. Stunned by just how wrong she was about herself.
After all, if she, the girl who'd spent her entire life working to save her friends, wasn't worth saving, who was?
He holds his hand over his chest as if that could somehow stave off the ache.
His mother was going to go on a warpath when- his eyes glance to the rest of the letters in the pile- If. If she read this letter.
Right now he wasn't sure it was a good idea. And he was barely a quarter of the way through it. He sighs deeply before he picks it up and continues.
Back to my childhood, I was too young to be useful yet, so Pain and Panic raised me. I'm not sure if you know who Pain and Panic actually are… But they're, honestly they're my everything. My father's imps turned caregivers. I think that they, more than they or anyone realize, are the biggest reason I care so much about everything. Why I found the strength to try to be kind on an unkind isle.
My father didn't even bother to name me. I was just a Hades. And while I have memories of him occasionally showing up in my crypt, I also remember growing up with this deep ache to see him more, to gain his approval just like Pain and Panic tried ever so eagerly to do.
Pain and Panic were surprisingly great at keeping me alive. Not that I needed much. I don't eat a lot and I'm as resilient as the marble tomb I sleep on. But they did have to put up with my tantrums, and my teething- As they take great enjoyment in reminding me and telling anyone they can get their claws on.
I'm not sure how I feel about it, but T probably knows more about my childhood than anybody else because of that. He visits the most and has undoubtedly run into them more than probably the rest of my friends combined. With how fast those two can talk, that's a lot of stories.
I'm sure T thinks of it as balancing the scale of our relationship. Since I know everything he hides from the rest of our friends currently. At least I think I do… Hope I do. I beg the sea gods and anyone else that might be listening for there not to be anything else.
He blinks, finding himself laughing at her deliveries in the last few paragraphs, not sure if she meant to lighten the mood of the letter or not.
But with the way she wrote about Pain and Panic- You could just tell how much she adored them. Cared for them. It was sweet. Her annoyance with T, just as much so.
It was like a significant other who wouldn't put down a photo album at their other half's family home and once the picture was there he couldn't let it go.
Pain and Panic have done so much for me. But I think that, more than what they did, it was what they never thought to do that matters.
My father is never nice to them. He treats them like slaves, bullies them, delights in making them cower. I'm pretty sure it reminds him of the good ol' days when he was free.
I find myself amazed. How easily they could have turned around and taken that out on me. Bled the pain off the way my father was- And my father is bleeding off pain, though he would never admit to something so painfully human out loud- But they never did. Not once. Not even so much as a tone. They worshipped me with the same passion they worshipped him. Needless to say it was a strange dynamic. It can still be uncomfortable if I'm being honest.
They remained kind and loyal my entire childhood. They're still kind and loyal.
I asked them about it a couple of times. I usually got that they could never hurt a Hades, or that I was the mistress and must always be protected, but once, and only once, I got the real answer.
I love leaving the crypts of my father's temple. As soon as I could walk I would climb the crumbling stairs to the outside. Once, after witnessing a nasty round between my father and Pain and Panic I ran. Ran as fast as I could.
Thinking back as I write this, this was probably the beginning of my love of finding places to hide, and the beginning of my running away. I couldn't have been very old, I know it was around Evie's big birthday party.
I ran. Away from the yelling and the sounds of hitting and groveling.
I hate hearing the words worms. I hate groveling and supplication.
I ran and ran until I got to the dead forest. Which was just a bunch of old petrified trees that hadn't fallen down yet. At the time I wasn't aware of the dangers, so I climbed one and hid in a hollowed-out section of the trunk that must have been a creature's home at one point. Before the barrier.
I don't know how long I was there but I woke up to Panic shaking me, and Pain scolding me for leaving. I was upset, and scared, and father only knows what else, but I caught the tree on fire. Pain and Panic pulled me out before it fell, but that day I burned more than half the forest down.
You're the fourth person to know that was me.
His lips settle into a warm smile, despite Deez's intent to make herself out to be more of a monster. He'd been caught in Melora's thunderous clap one too many times through the years to blame demi-gods, especially young, untrained, temperamental, demi-gods for losing control of their abilities. Though the thought of Herkie or his twin having the ability to control fire made him grimace.
He could relate to running away though. He used to do the same thing when he was younger and heard his parents arguing.
Not that this was comparable in depth.
After all, if his parents yelling had been scary, watching and hearing your parental figures be beaten by, for all intents and purposes, your god had to be utterly terrifying at such a young age.
He takes another breath before he continues.
I was crying and angry as they flew me back to my crypt, and as much as I love the answer I got, I hate what I did to get it. The tantrum. The attitude. The loathing, self or otherwise. I can still remember the burn of acid in my throat.
I asked why they even cared about me. Why they never lashed out at me. Accused them of treating me like a job. I said more, all of it hurtful, but I can't remember the full tantrum.
And they just stood there, through the whole thing. Stood there as I bled my anger off on them. My anger. Fear. Frustrations. So many emotions. So much fire. So much crying.
All I remember is their big eyes staring up at me before they, ignoring the flames and the burns, pulled me into a big hug and let me cry. And they cried. Then they told me it was okay.
They both told me they love me.
Love.
It was the first time I'd heard the word with such sincerity. My father would always part with daddy loves you pumpkin or princess, kitten... but this.
This was different. They knew I was the mistress, daughter of the Lord of the underworld, knew that I could hurt or even possibly even kill them…If they can be killed. Not that I ever tried. But now that I'm writing this… I'm not sure either can actually die. They feel pain though. And they did get burns. But yeah, maybe they're immortal too.
Huh.
But they didn't care about any of that, the pain, the suffering, what had to be emotional torment. They were just worried about me. They loved me. Not what I could do, to them or for them. They just loved me.
Me.
It's something I think about often. The first time I felt loved and accepted. It's not lost on me that it happened during a low moment. During a time I wish I could take back. For all the times I've ever felt like a monster, and believe me there are so many times, that will always be one of my worst monster moments. But they still loved me.
It's sad that as happy as it made me, it also confused me.
At some point after that, I decided that I wanted to be like them. To be able to accept and love people even at their worst. It hasn't always been easy, and I have been a hot head at times, but I think I've managed to stick to the ideal, managed to make it part of my core beliefs. My father would be so disgusted if he ever found out. Or read this. Then again he'd be disgusted if he ever found out I was sending these to you in general… So, yeah...
He fails to keep his tears in check, almost as if her emotions were imprinted in her very words. The love and devotion she felt for Pain and Panic was nearly tangible, along with the confusion her father brought her. It hurt just to read. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like to live through.
On one hand, he was happy that the two imps had seen to her care, but on the other, it killed him to know how difficult it must have been to grow up with that type of dynamic.
He loved the perspective she gained from her father's two minions. He could vaguely remember the way Megara and Hercules would talk about them when he'd overhear them talking to their kids on family day. They too usually had only positive things to say about the imps.
In keeping to that belief, I managed to stay gangless for a long time. Longer than everyone but T.
There are a lot of smaller gangs, but only four main ones. All the smaller ones defer to them. Uma, Mal, Cora, and Atilla are the main leaders, though I only ever hang out with the first two. I do know the others have expressed an interest in me. Have even approached me, but I wouldn't want to join up with them. They both have reputations similar to their parents. The Red Queen and Shan Yu.
And no thank you. Even as a born monster, I wanted nothing to do with what those two get into.
When I was really young I would mostly hang out with Uma and Evie.
At first Evie was really bossy and would only play doll with me. And I was the doll. And dolls don't talk.
Uma because her mother often came by the temple to pay homage or something.
I was crying when we first met, crying because Pain and Panic wanted me to go back into the crypts while they tended to my father and her mother. Knowing what I know now about Uma, that was probably the only thing she needed to hear. I followed her around like a lost baby whale after that. I treated her like a third Pain and Panic. Anytime she was around I was stuck to her side. When she wasn't, I missed her.
Occasionally Mal would show up and demand my time, or would be gracious enough to give me some of hers, and with her came Jay. Mal was weird at first. Clearly wanting nothing and yet everything to do with me. I can only assume now that it was under her mother's direction she even made the time of day for me. Jay… Jay was just cautious and subtly protective of Mal. Some things never change, I guess. They just grow to include more people.
At that time Uma was still working to get her boys to join up with her. Both were so resistant, so hesitant. So afraid to be hurt again. Even at such young ages. I have to admit at the time all I ever wanted to do was cry or hug them when they were around. Not that I knew why. Honestly, there's still a lot I know I don't know… It was just a feeling I had whenever she brought me with her to visit. Gil was a lot more receptive to it than Harry was originally, and we'll just leave it at that.
Then came Carlos. My study buddy. I met him during my first year in school. And he was the first friend I ever made on my own. He hadn't drawn Mal's attention yet, but wow, did he draw her attention when he did. Exploding school projects apparently fascinate Mal. The fact that he also had the highest E.Q. the school had ever seen probably didn't hurt either.
I met others through school, or through my friends.
And even that young I was already in love with the written word, though at the time I still had no idea I'd ever write to you so regularly.
This was new. She usually wasn't so subjective of the subjects she wrote about. She usually kept her writing a lot more objective. It was different. But certainly not in a bad way. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this view on things.
She'd never written about how any of them had met each other before. She usually only wrote of their personal achievements and the challenges they overcame despite the odds.
It was sweet. Endearing to hear about the people he'd come to care about in such a way and he was curious if she'd done it on purpose or just absently went off on a few cherished memory tangents.
Did she even understand how much of an empath she was? Was that even a word they were familiar with on the isle?
This letter was even more riveting than he was used too. He felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster and was uncertain whether he should be loving it as much as he was or not.
Still, even being surrounded by these people I'd come to think of as friends and family, I was lonely. I hadn't developed my ability to read people quite so keenly back then after all. And besides Carlos, I wasn't sure anyone really liked me or if they just saw me as some responsibility or resource to be used.
Ben sighs. He could relate to feeling lonely, being afraid that the people he called friends were only using him for one reason or another. He felt that connection deeply, felt like not only could he understand her, but that she could understand him.
He smiles at the memories of Mal and her gang comparing him to her, wondering if they knew how close to the money they really were with their comparison.
It was a long time before I met T, and that's an interesting story that deals with the whole gangless issue. And my finally finding a kindred spirit.
I freely went between Mal and Uma's gangs for a long time after they officially formed, and I did my best to spend time with both groups.
Uma, Harry, and Gil dropped out of Dragon Hall after a year or two of me being there, so if I wanted to see them it meant going out to the chip shop since I spent time with Mal's group in classes.
And here we have another painful story I've never written to you about. A story I've never really talked about to anyone.
Ben lets out a deep breath as he lowers the letter. Tea.
He could go for some tea right now. He just knew what was coming up was going to be another rock to his stomach. And he wanted to digest this letter properly.
And tea was the perfect thing to help with digestion.
Finally, am I right?
Did we meet the hype?
Was this letter what you were expecting? We know we mentioned it so many chapters ago, did you guys enjoy it?
Deez really spilled her heart and soul into this letter, ripping herself apart in a way she'd never had to do before and exposing her vulnerabilities in ways she never wanted too. And this is only the first half of the letter. It's fucking heavy shit and the next chapter just gets heavier.
Like the fact that she thought she was a monster when she was younger, a monster she didn't believe would be worth saving. A liability on the chance for freedom she wanted for her friends. Do you think that explains why she never included herself in the letters?
What do you think of her change of heart? Or at least of her attempting to tell her story since she has grown to realize she wants to stay with her friends.
And how shitty Ben felt about the fact he'd done just what she feared? Was anyone surprised by that bit of insight?
Were you surprised to see the way Deez views Pain and Panic? Or by Ben's correlation that she saw them as her parents while viewing her actual father as a God? And what did you think of her telling Ben that she and every vk wants the love of their parents, but they'll never get it?
On a lighter note, did you enjoy reading about how she met everyone?
What did you think of Evie forcing her to be a doll? Sound like a little princess?
What do you guys think about how she explained T's abnormal definition of the word safety? It speaks to her state of mind while she wrote this letter. Cause remember this was right after Deez and Yensid spoke and discovered T has a split personality and is struggling with it. Does it make sense that with him being on her mind he shows up more?
This is definitely the longest letter Deez has ever written to the king, but when you don't edit yourself or go back to correct anything shit can get outta hand, trust us. Not only that, but she'd never written about herself before, and was trying something new at the same time. And again, she was in a weird place when she decided to write this
Speaking of mindsets, what did you guys think of Ben's introspection? It's so weird that I'm the one writing the kid since Dark is usually the one who mains the feelers. So what do you guys think of his reactions? On point? Or not emotional enough? Did this chapter hit you in the gut with them feels?
Do you agree that Ben needed and deserved a break before he could continue reading?
Let us know
In the comments below
Much love and appreciation
-Dark and Twisted-