#nothing spiteful it was the best for us both probably and him especially

[johnlennonirl]

Being single as John Lennon is hard (it's probably for the best for everyone)

[mossyvil]

poly rookvil + yuu thoughts!

notes: sometimes you just have to write the things you want to read so that’s what this is LMAO

this is an established relationship, if anyone’s interested i can write some stuff for pre-relationship/getting together! also requests are open update: part two here

the three of you guys are basically inseparable outside of class time! whenever one of you is missing it’s almost a guarantee that you’re with the other two somewhere

they are so sweet!! both of them show their love in different ways, but at the end of the day none of you are feeling unloved or undervalued in the relationship because love is given so freely

rook is obviously more straightforward with his affections- he’s very into (respectful) pda with his lovers and will literally go on tangents about all the things he loves about you and vil! even to other students who really don’t give a shit

vil has to be more subtle in his affections, being a celebrity means eyes on him at all times, and the last thing he wants is crazy fans hounding you and rook. even a more “normal” relationship would be hard to navigate, much less one with two other people

as you can probably guess, self care days are a must with these two! they love to pamper you anyways, so a day they can take care of you (and your skin, thanks vil) is a perfect way to spend a day off from classes and work!

speaking of- vil is extremely busy, with modeling shoots and interviews and the like. he tries his best to not let it get in the way of your relationship, but it can be hard sometimes

on days where vil can’t be with you, rook and you try to make the most of it. he takes you on your date of choice (pls don’t let him choose he is not to be trusted) and uses it as a chance to get some one on one time with you

vil, shockingly, is a very big cuddle bug! most people think he wouldn’t want to be that close to someone, especially when he needs his beauty sleep, but he actually sleeps better with you both and wakes up less rested after a night alone

rook will say the most OUT OF POCKET shit randomly and vil will glare at him while rook is just 😌

they’re both so proud of you, someone who has almost nothing to their name in a new scary world, for persevering in spite of it all, and they love you more than words ♡ rook will definitely write a poem about his love tho

[faeble-drabbles]

Hello! If you don't mind, I'd like to ask for a few headcannons of Kite, Wing and the main four (aged up Killua and Gon) with a s/o who seems like they're very weak and mild, but are strong and intimidating af during battle. Fem!reader if you can please.

Thank you!! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

Thank you for being the first requester!! <3 I will never not be in the mood to write some HxH <3 Even though this wont be spicy, all characters in this are/aged up to be 18+ (Also probably gonna leave out Kurapika and Leorio this time around, probably gonna keep my limit at four characters per post)

•°• KITE •°•

+ This man was HIGHLY against bringing you along on one of his little adventures. Weak or not, the places he went were highly dangerous and he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

+ It took a lot of convincing but he eventually agreed. But you best believe he is gonna be glued to your side and watching your surroundings like a hawk.

+ Just in a brief moment of being distracted by talking with you, Kite was attacked by a poacher with powerful nen abilities. Kite was about to attack the man, but something flashed past him before he could react.

+ "How DARE you hurt Kite, you asshole!!" With that battle cry, you used your abilities to take down the poacher with ease. Which left a confused and awe-struck Kite, standing in silence. When did you become so powerful??

+ Kite snapped out of his daze when you returned back to him and started worrying over his injury. Kite just gave a smile and shook his head. Looks like he had absolutely nothing to worry about with you by his side. You had each others backs.

•°• WING •°•

+ You had been training for a while with Wing and during that process, eventually started to date as well. Unfortunately for you, this made Wing a bit more protective over you.

+ It also was starting to seem like Wing was slowing down your training a bit. When approached about it he would just give the same "I just want to make sure you are fully prepared and ready" talk.

+ You hated to go behind his back, but you had to prove him wrong. You signed yourself up against a powerful opponent at Heavens Arena, making sure the fight was as soon as possible so that Wing could not interject. + When Wing heard your fight announced, he was both furious and terrified, especially when he saw the other opponent. Did you really have to pick out the strongest looking fighter just to spite him? He wanted nothing more than to jump on that stage and stop it before it even could begin.

+ Right as Wing was considering taking action, the fight had already begun. As the fighter barreled towards you, Wing found himself clench his eyes shut tight. The sound of surprised cheers made him chance another look, just to find you beating the shit out of the other fighter. It was a complete shock to him watching his sweet s/o give such a brutal beatdown. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride.

+ When Wing found you after the fight, he made sure to give you a earful of how your actions were very irresponsible and dangerous. But once he was done, his face soften to a smile. "...And I'm sorry for doubting your abilities. You are very powerful and I can not wait to see you grow even stronger"

•°• GON •°•

+ Gon was never really attracted to people for their strength, but their hearts is what caught his attention. So when he met you, he never viewed you as strong or weak, just a good person with a big heart. And that's what lead the two of you to dating.

+ Though finding out you had nen abilities alone excited him. Gon wanted to know everything about your techniques. What did it do? How does it work?? How did you train to perfect it??? He's just in awe.

+ Even knowing you possessed nen powers, he never really associated it with you being a fighter. He didn't exactly view you as weak but he also didn't really expect you to single handedly beat up a group of powerful hunters.

+ The group was causing problems with a local villager and right as Gon was about to give them a piece of his mind, you got there first. He wasn't sure what was more surprising, the profanities spilling from your mouth or the fact that you took on all these skilled hunters with such ease.

+ You best believe when the fight is over, he's going to be drowning you in praise and even more questions. "Wow!! You keep getting more amazing with each day!! You're so cool Y/N!!" If you have not already gotten your hunter license, he's definitely going to beg you to give it a shot.

•°• KILLUA •°•

+ Similar to Gon, Killua isn't attracted to people for power alone. Yes power can impress him, but he prefers to be around people who love and appreciate him for who he is, flaws and all.

+ Which you do. You know all about Killua and all the awful things he's gone through, as well as all the good times and friends he has met. Meanwhile, there is still something he had yet to discover about you.

+ Killua had needed to get something from his home, but did not want you to get involved in any of his families shenanigans (God forbid if his mother found out the girl he was dating was in reach). He instructed you to wait a bit of a distance away from the gate and he'd be back as fast as he could.

+ After a while though you started to get impatient and wondered if he ran into any trouble with his family again. Anxiety started getting the better of you, leading you to make a trek up to the gates.

+ Right as Killua was about to exit, he nearly jumped when the gates had opened before he had the chance to touch them. And to make it more surprising, it was the 6th door out of the 7. All of his family had been home, so who..?

+ You ran through the gate and gave him a hug. "Good! I was starting to get worried about you!" Killua couldn't even respond for a moment, he was still in shock that you had managed to open all those training gates without much effort. At the same time, he couldn't help but smile in knowing that his s/o he loved so much was secretly so powerful.

+ "So you want to tell me what sort of training you've been through to be so strong? I might have to get some tips from you, heh"

[gancegancerevo]

Rides to Lake Silberneherze Thoughts

It was great. The second major visit to Kjerag sees us return three years after the previous event to see how the nation has built itself up after the Saintess reforms the political system of Kjerag and accepts the Silverash clan’s plans to open the country to outsiders.

Degenbrecher is the main selling point of the event in my opinion and damn did they work hard to make her appealing. She’s not only very strong, very skilled, very pretty, and a lot less long-winded than the other politicians, she’s also got her own story. It’s quite beautiful to see someone immigrate to a new country and have it just be a story of finding a home you can settle with. She’s the kind of character who’s physically strong enough to survive hardship. And in a sense, she is emotionally strong as she does not hold any grudges against her old nations. Probably in part because she’s beaten up the ones she needs to and let go of what she doesn’t need. She’s very much her own person and she herself has decided she wants to stay in Kjerag as one of its people. Makes you think about all the immigrants who makes their homes in new countries and how that experience is unique to them.

Leto was adorable in this event. The way she takes everybody she passes by and makes them her friends is hilarious and wonderful. It’s also great that they made her a competent field operator. She was able to sense and threaten a Trillby Asher all by herself even if that went awry. She also knew when to call up her superiors when she needed help.

One of the best parts about her arc here is how they turn the classic father-daughter reunion on its head. Because for one, Tatyova, her mother, is alive and well. And seems to be perfectly capable of continuing to care for Leto. Leto ultimately doesn’t care about her father, as she should. Arctosz’s decision to make his family leave for political safety makes it obvious that he knows nothing about the wider world. His privileged upbringing means he has no idea about how others would treat a single mother and what it means for a child to grow up without a father. The thing that really brings it into perspective for me is the attack on Chernobog. If you don’t know how bad it was, read the Ursus Student Group side stories. It makes every excuse Arctosz make seem extra moronic. This story takes the “looking for a long lost father” trope and makes it an ode to all the mothers who had to deal with single-parenthood themselves.

Harold is quite interesting. He’s your classic bumbling high-spirited old man except he’s also a Victorian military officer. Like Degenbrecher, he’s someone who also adjusts well to Kjerag life finding work as a veterinarian and doing old man things. In spite of this, he remains loyal to Victoria and when told that he would need to attack the people he’s lived with for months, he ultimately sides with his country. This is an interesting contrast to bring in this story. About how some people would throw away their old countries while others would remain loyal. Though overall, he was just fun to watch. Especially when paired with Leto or others who humor him.

By far my favorite part of visiting Kjerag is seeing the Saintess and Enya and Kjarr do not disappoint.

Before I gush about yuri though, I should say I love how Enya, and especially her relationship with  Enciodes has evolved. She’s much more active in the goings-on of the nation and is willing to use the Saintess as a state official rather than just a ceremonial position. She and Enciodes managed to separate their personal lives from their work in nation-building and it’s so interesting to see it play out. Enya inserting herself when Enciodes tries to avoid more direct interactions. The whole banquet scene with Harold. It was great especially when they both admit that the Head of the Silverash clan and the Saintess have a similar vision and plan for Kjerag’s development and both go silent when others ask about the relationship between Enya and Enciodes Silverash as siblings.

Enya and Kjarr have to be the most wife and wife coded characters I’ve seen in Arknights so far. Like a pair well into their golden years, they have a mutual respect and trust of one another while still disagreeing on some issues. There’s also that sense of both of them playing an active role in the relationship rather than the usual one stays at home and one works sort of dynamic. I especially like when Kjarr is like “babe, are you sure I shouldn’t use my god powers?” and Enya keeps insisting that they can’t rely on god to fix things for them. And of course the eternal pestering of Kjarr for a statue adjustment. If she can’t ask Enya for it, she’ll let Degenbrecher and the Trillby Asher do it. I always love Enya and Kjarr and this has cemented my favorite Kjerag dynamic even more.

Lastly, I really appreciate the way they included the Doctor this time. It’s not the take control of a situation you’ve only been aware of for a few hours. Instead, they made reasonable assumptions about what others are plotting and taking a few small steps to push pieces into the best place possible. Kinda like how they can’t rely on Kjeragandr, they also can’t rely on the Doctor of Rhodes but that doesn’t mean either of them can’t do one small move themselves.

P.S. What do you mean Kjerag has a battleship under Lake Silberneherze. Though it might be more shocking that Enciodes expressed approval of Sciurus before Ratatos did AND that Ratatos liked Sciurus naming the battleship Walnut to mess with her kids.

[jtl-fics]

In honor of April Fools day I will talk a bit about an AU with my favorite fool - (Redacted) Smith that I will probably never write fully but have thought about a bunch of scenes for.

I call it 2 Fluent Freshmen.

Due to a clerical error at both the school and during the local government's push to digitize their documents Smith is noted down as being 2 years older than he actually is and (perhaps a clerical error or maybe no teacher can say if they've had him in class or not) Smith also has enough credits to graduate. Gran has passed away early and there's nothing for him in Washington other than more anxiety.

Wymack & Dan come to Smith when he is 16 and Smith takes the chance to escape from his family IMMEDIATELY. Sure the Foxes are the worst team and sure there's some drama going on with Kevin Day having joined them after his injury but a full ride scholarship is a full ride scholarship!

Smith is rooming with 2 upperclassmen and his only other fellow freshman - Neil Josten. He is not hiding the fact that he can speak Russian, he is hiding the fact that he is 16. Smith ends up pretty close to Seth and Allison due to sharing a dorm / position respectively and just doing his best not to get to close to crazy Andrew Minyard. He does get a bit close with Neil but it's not something he's trying to do.

He's trying to keep his head down and get through the year.

It's a little hard when he is sat on the couch with the Kathy Ferdinand show. It's a lot harder when Riko Moriyama shows up and doesn't realize he's there and just...sits in Smith's lap?? Smith remains as blank faced as ever and what the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT HE FUCKED UP?

Do you know how hard it is to intimidate someone when you're sitting in the lap of some dude? The answer is VERY. Kevin can't take him seriously at all, especially after Smith made a comment that Riko's ass was bony.

Riko goes after them the same but Smith doesn't really get that his anger is at Kevin. "Hey, I'm sorry I called your butt bony on national television. That was rude of me. You should try some squats though." and like what the fuck is Riko supposed to say in the face of some dude genuinely apologizing to him.

It buys enough time that no one is grabbed or slammed.

Seth and Allison drag him out to the bar that night and after a few minutes sitting with Allison Smith realizes that he actually does have to pee and oh god someone's trying to assault Seth! Smith calls upon the powers of Gracie Hart and Seth has a black eye and a concussion but he graduates.

Neil wants Smith to come with him to the Thanksgiving because Neil has latched on a bit. Smith ends up going and also ends up going upstairs to go to the bathroom because oh god he cannot handle Nicky's parents hearing him take an anxiety shit. He's making his way to the end of the hall and sees a penny on the ground so he bends over to grab it.

And Drake Spears is unbalanced from missing his swing and falls right out the open window to the ground below where he breaks his neck. Naturally, Andrew is watching this scene unfold from the stairs and just starts to laugh his ass off. Smith turns around after flipping the penny over (it was tails side up and therefore not lucky) unaware of what has happened.

Smith asks if Andrew wants to use the bathroom. Andrew insists that Smith goes on ahead. The Hemmicks keep asking if they saw anyone upstairs and Smith has no idea what they're talking about, Andrew does but plays dumb out of spite. A day later it's wild that Nicky's parents got arrested. Like they seemed so normal, how did they kill someone and dump him in the side garden??

The Winter Banquet happens and well...it's dark. It's dark and Neil has brown hair and brown eyes and Smith has brown hair and brown eyes. Riko is not the best at judging heights so he calls Smith to threaten him and tell him that he's joining the Ravens for a Winter Break training camp. Jean is doing the most anyone has ever done not to laugh right now.

Riko only realizes his mistake when he's finished threatening Smith with his father and Smith ruins it. Smith is elated to have somewhere to stay over winter break. He can't mention he has nowhere to go so he'd thought he'd spend the break homeless. Now here comes Riko Moriyama inviting him to a camp where room and board will be provided?

What a nice guy. To thank him Smith compliments the gains he's noticed on Riko's ass. "The squats are really helping you, or are you doing something else?" he asks.

What the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT THAT HE FUCKED UP? Tell Smith that he's been doing squats and leg lifts before asking that he hand the tickets back and go get Neil???

Fuck that.

He'll just turn Smith against the Foxes and-

Well Riko kept talking about Smith's dead dad and so Smith may have a slight misunderstanding about the full scope of this training camp. He may think that there is some sort of seance element to it at this point and he's kind of excited at the idea of talking to his dad. "I've never spoken to a dead man before, this will be fun." and it's delivered flatly with no expression.

Riko starts to wonder if maybe Smith is the Butcher's son? Did the Butcher have two sons? He's sweating all the sudden.

It does not help that Smith brings a Ouija board to camp or that his dad was a legit Butcher before he died so Riko's tentative questioning only sends him further into an anxious mess about if Nathan had twins and Riko, due to being kept away from the family business, might just not be aware of it?

Smith has a nice Christmas break.

The last scene I've got dinging around in the noggin is in Binghamton. Smith has been left behind at many a stadium at this point. There's a solid and fast rule.

Neil cannot get on the bus without Smith. They are buddies. This is the buddy system. So when the riot starts and Neil seems to be getting pulled away in the crowd?

Well Smith grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bus, "Buddy system."

The bus starts and they're on their way shortly after. Neil's an anxious wreck but that next morning he wakes up to the news that the Butcher of Baltimore died in an FBI raid the night before as well as his men.

Smith watches the news with Neil, "Wow, that's scary." as he sips some orange juice.

[popatochisssp]

I have a question!!! What would it take to get the more stoic boys (like Ell, Merc, Nemo, Vi and King—and anyone else you want to add) to crack a smile?

So you want to make the stony faces crack a smile, huh? An admirable goal!

I went ahead and picked out the most stoic skeletons I could think of, and the best way to get them to break and laugh for you—or at least grin…

King (Horrorfell Papyrus)  – He’s a tough nut to crack, but if you don’t happen to have a clever wit to banter back and forth with him, using your sharpest ripostes and most stinging barbs, physical comedy is actually your best bet. He’s a bit of a sadist and has just enough of a mean streak to always find it funny when someone falls, or walks into a pole, or really any other form of slapstick as a result of someone’s clumsiness or inattention. He generally has enough grace to rein his visible amusement in, but if you ever see some sort of petty accident waiting to happen, do point it out—or be the clumsy fool yourself, you just might see an undignified snicker.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans) – He actually has a great sense of humor and joy, so he does already smile quite a bit! Just…because of his condition, he has to keep in control of his emotions, so those smiles are small and slow and restrained, lest he feel too much and lose his handle on himself. That said, the element of surprise is crucial to winning the big and real reactions from him, catching him off-guard so he doesn’t see it coming and can’t mount an internal defense against it. Non sequiturs and unexpected punchlines work great for this, but are best used sparingly—both to keep the element of surprise at play, and to keep his discomfort from getting a little melty to a minimum.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus) – In spite of his often surly or sour mood, he’s not especially difficult to amuse. Probably his favorite thing, though, is anything that happens to be unintentionally funny—as in, something that was not meant to be comedic but, by circumstance or execution or some other factor, has just completely missed the mark and has worked its way around to funny. Really badly outdated special effects or especially hokey dialogue in shows and movies tend to work well in getting him to smile, but he’s liable to bark out a laugh for signs and billboards and such that should not have been placed next to each other, or if you share with him something stupid and out of touch that a celebrity or politician may have said.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus) – He’s only deceptively hard to get a smile out of. He’s often anxious, or in guard-dog mode, thinking about things that could happen, and what he’d have to do in the event of X, Y, or Z, which has the Resting Bitch Face out in full force…but he’s far from a heart of stone. When he’s relaxed and comfortable, he’ll smile about pretty much anything, even just for it being a kind of nice day outside. …But if you want to see him smile even when he's not entirely chill, all it really takes is some kids, or maybe a funny animal. Seeing kids goofing around doing kid things, or a puppy dog up to some puppy type antics, he has a hard time not smiling for that.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans) – He’s a very, very tough one, almost the poster skeleton for ‘nothing to smile about in my life.’ He’s definitely lost in his own existentialism a lot, or the opposite and trying not to think about more than what’s directly in front of him, which does make it pretty difficult to get a laugh out of him. Still, he can’t quite help himself when it comes to skeleton-based jokes and puns—it’s tired, old material, sure, but very comforting and familiar, and he likes to hear it. It’s not a guaranteed laugh if you hit him with some humerus wordplay, but he’s pretty likely to be smiling behind his mask, and even likelier to throw you a bone and respond in kind.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus) – With him, it’s a little bit like getting one of those palace guards to crack a smile—it’s not so much that he’s humorless, just that he’s (until recently) not been allowed to show a response…and as a related issue, he’s not at all familiar with social cues and doesn’t always realize a certain response is expected of him. Because of that, one of the best ways to get him to smile is to explain a joke for him, or just let him know that what was said was a joke. It’s easier for him to feel comfortable expressing his amusement if he knows for sure that he was meant to be amused, but as for a specific preference of humor… Well, he actually really likes skeleton-related puns and jokes, too! His brother used to tell them all the time when they were younger and since he wasn’t around long enough to use them to death those are very fond memories!

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans) – Now he’s the poster skeleton for ‘nothing to smile about in my life,’  and consequently, not very easy at all to coax a smile from. He’s too into the habit of keeping his most important and genuine feelings off his face to be fully comfortable smiling over just anything. If someone knows that something makes him happy, it can be taken away from him, after all. …But if whatever he’s smiling about is something vague, deprived of its context and mysterious to anyone who isn’t in the know… His fastest and easiest smiles are the ones that come from inside jokes, funny moments that maybe he didn’t laugh about at the time, but will freely grin and reference later with just a ‘YOU HAD TO BE THERE’ to anyone else prying for more context. He likes secrets, and the ones he can share with you are the most fun.

[glitch-pep]

BIG thank you/shout-out to @beesofink for helping me with the design of this oc, Bee came up with the fanny pack! 🩵

CJ Intro

[Character info is under the cut.]

CJ is a character that would be introduced in a hypothetical Season 3 of Making Fiends, as Charlotte's older brother who, unknowingly as to what's going on in Clamburg due to not receiving any letters or calls from his grandma or sister since Vendetta doesn't allow it outside of Clamburg, moved to Clamburg after finally being done with, according to Charlotte, "Space Camp".

CJ has the same happy and optimistic attitude that both of his other family members have, but unlike Charlotte, he's fully aware about Vendetta's intentions. Instead of telling her about it or trying to convince her of the truth, for the sake of Charlotte's fragile heart, he decided to play along with the situation, while making sure that everyone and especially Charlotte, survive Vendetta's traps.

He usually does this throughout coming up with some sorta plan, that usually seems like utter nonsense that won't work at first.

He keeps the most random of objects in his fanny pack, some useful others nonsensical. It's an ongoing gag that he pulls out objects out of it that wouldn't realistically fit into it, or the exact random object that is needed at that moment.

For the residents of Clamburg his arrival was first met with, "There's two of them now??" but eventually people grew to appreciate his efforts, making him well liked by almost everyone.

To lighten up the mood, he often says dad jokes and puns that are silly enough as to where they can at least put a smile on your face if nothing else. Sometimes he's also the "straight" man for whatever kinda shenanigans Charlotte is up to.

The main gag regarding his character is that he's a pretty normal guy reacting to this very weird town, who doesn't know any better besides just rolling with whatever new anomaly he sees today.

A giant red cat just casually sitting there? Alright I guess that's a thing now good to know.

His optimism is seemingly endless, he always finds at least something to be happy about no matter how bad the situation, but he never makes it up.

Still, not everything goes according to plan.

Not every joke lands.

He has a bit of a "saying things he didn't mean to say out loud out loud" problem.

Some social interactions can get pretty awkward when he runs out of ideas.

Vendetta obviously doesn't like him and subjects him to the things SHE finds funny out of spite since he's breaking the "No jokes." rule and probably many other rules. Usually him getting hurt in some way.

His luck generally ain't the best, he tends to get hurt on sheer accident, hence why he always has bandages on random areas of his body. Another gag would be that he gets hit with Vendetta's attacks even if they couldn't have logically hit him of all people in the room.

But, hey. He has to make the most of it since he's not getting out of the town anytime soon, so he gets up and keeps on a smile, for everyone's, and especially Charlotte's sake.

And now that he's finally here again, new hijinks shall ensue!

Here's the transparent versions of the drawings:

[r0semultiverse]

Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦‍⬛

I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.

Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.

This man has had barely any positivity in his life.

"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut

Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.

Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.

Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!

Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!

"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!

This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?

I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.

While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰

"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut

She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀

Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-

Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.

When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."

I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹

"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut

Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨

There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.

Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.

She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.

Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!

She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.

While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪

My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.

[fangsandfeels]

It's probably a very unpopular opinion, but initially, I liked Wulbren when I encountered him in the game. And how couldn't I? The lad greets us with an escape plan up his sleeve and that plan includes breaking the tieflings out! A true blessing for any Tav who never intended to cooperate with the Absolute and got a headache from thinking how they would get out all of the prisoners. What Wulbren did was badass and spoke a lot about his principles and priorities.

Now, a less-then-lukewarm reunion with Barcus was something I expected because nothing could be that easy, and from what we've seen, Philomena too abandoned her girlfriend for The Idea without even bothering to break up with her. So, at that point, I had a reason to suspect that either Wulbren was a dick or he tried to keep Barcus away from whatever he was brewing so he won't get caught in the fallout (he has a propensity for getting himself in trouble, after all).

But come Act 3...

...and Wulbren is presented as an irrational, vengeful prick who refuses to look deeper into the matter. We can follow his vision and blow up the Steel Foundry without looking into it, inadvertently causing more destruction, or going against him.

However, after what I learned thanks to @y-rhywbeth2 here (hope you don't mind me tagging you) is that the reason for Wulbren's innate distaste for Gondians may lie even deeper than "they worked with the tyrant, they must pay".

Wulbren's clan follows Gaerdal Ironhand, the lawful good gnome deity. His followers are militaristic and devoted, committed to protecting the gnome community and dealing with internal and external threats.

The best defense is unswerving vigilance. Serve Gaerdal with absolute dedication and devotion. Defend and protect gnome communities against all invaders both obvious and hidden. Never cease to hone the skills of war, and take the opportunity of relative peace to pass such talents on to gnomes at large.

While Gond isn't mentioned as Gaerdal's adversary, their dogmas contradict each other. Despite being a patron of inventors and craftsmen, Gond is so dedicated to creating inventions ("wonders") and spreading them that he has no concern for safety or consequence. Gond also welcomes all alignments and approves of his followers forcing their way into power, subtly controlling leaders and destroying any opposition, so they could promote their inventions and creations. Accumulation of power and personal wealth is smiled upon.

So, Gaerdal Ironhand is all about caring for the community and taking any measures necessary to protect it - even if such threat comes from fellow gnomes, Gaedral's followers are supposed to undertake the grim duty of being the judges and doing what's necessary. If Wulbren is a dedicated follower of Gaedral, it's understandable why he has so much contempt for the Gondians: they are careless, irresponsible, so obsessed with the "can it be done?" they forget about "should it be done?" - and look at where it got them. Play stupid games, and win stupid prizes.

Of course, he would take any accusations of being too harsh as an insult - especially given that he literally lost his fellow clanspeople to protect the city.

Given all that, I wish there could have been a more complex resolution. Showing Wulbren the door minimizes the fact that he wasn't just obsessed with killing the Gondians, but also was ready to die for his people (he didn't expect anyone to save him and he was planning on saving himself and others). He organized a guerilla movement that was effective enough for Gortash to put him on the Wanted list. If Gondians started working with Gortash of their own volition (I didn't explore the game enough to find any tangible proof or content that debunks this theory), but then found themselves shackled and enslaved, that would add to his bitterness. Being treated as a local madman for fighting the threat everybody else is idiotically blind to tooth and nail affects you. Heavily. Bitterness and spite become part and parcel of your struggle and when someone tries to tell you you're being unreasonable or not kind, you snap at them - what do they know?

Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean that Wulbren and Barcus should kiss and make up.

But having the option to point out to Wulbren that Barcus has been actually upholding Ironhand's ideals all this time and went to great lengths to do the right thing; make him finally acknowledge and respect his friend would have been nice.

Also, by admitting that Barcus was right, Wulbren could have seen where he was wrong or unable to see things differently - which would have prompted him to put his trust in Barcus even if he still instinctually wants to oppose and cuss him out for being so naively tolerant.

Because, I think Barcus deserves some recognition from Wulbren - even if they don't remain friends, going simply to colleagues (mostly because Barcus decides he did enough and it's time for him to stop running after Wulbren, especially now that he is safe). And also, because the entire Ironhand clan story needs more polishing, given that its premise in Act 1-2 was so interesting.

[dirtytransmasc]

For your Ronal/Tonowari adopted!spider, I can only imagine how the Sullys react to the 'loss' of another... let's not call it son, they didn't earn that. They are still grieving and I can imagine it hitting Tuk even harder rhan Kiri bc I don't think Tuk would understand that it is what is best for Spider. Kiri I'm sure would be sad but happy that Spider is so cared for and loved. (1/2)

I totally agree, they would feel like they lost another one of their family, because to them spider was like a family dog to them, they cared about him, but he wasn't an equal.

jake - he'd feel guilty, but partly in denial. I think his neglect came partly on his focus on his "real" family, so he'd want to hide from it I think part of him did love spider, he got used to being around, and did want to keep him around; but spider was never his son, he has no intention of truly treating him like a son, and that realization hits him hard and fast. he would want to argue, but I don't think he'd have much to really say.

neytiri - I think to have it laid out in front of her how much harm she caused a child, human or not, especially by another na'vi who had suffered so greatly at the sky peoples hands, would make her feel kinda bad. I think neytiri had a sort of dissconenect when it came to spider, she couldn't see a child, or a victim, she only saw his human body and it got in the way of everything else. she is pissed ronal put her down like that, and hurt on behalf of her children because she knows they're losing another brother, but deep within her, she's so relieved; it wasn't fair to either of them, they both hurt in eachothers presence. I also think spite would make her sort of against it, but at the end of the day, she knows that spider going with ronal is better for them all.

lo'ak - I agree that losing spider right after neteyam would probably make him flip out just a little, even if only in his head, cause he can't lose anyone else. he never really noticed the difference between himself and spider so I think he would be angry as well, angry that spider was leaving 'over nothing'. but I think as he grieve's and recover's as much as one can recover from that he starts to really notice how much happier spider is, not necessarily in the way that he's moved on from neteyam, but in the way that he looks healthier, less empty. he see's displays of affection between spider and his new adopted family he never saw spider receive before, and realizes that they were different, no matter how his mom and dad treated him, he had more then spider. I think their will always be a bitter ache in lo'ak after losing both his brothers so close together, but I think he'd come to realize its for the better. plus, its not like he never sees him again, like they're not brothers, its just a little different now.

tuk - tuk would be heartbroken. I know from the perspective of being a little kid and losing someone like this, you always find a way to twist it that you are to blame. she would think that somehow she's at least part of the reasons spider is leaving, and even when she's convinced otherwise, she still doesn't understand why he has to go, why they can't be family anymore. she makes sure to visit him everyday, and always asks him to come home before she leaves. both of them are broken over it. he can't bring himself to say anything against jake or neytrir, she doesn't need to know how they treated him, she doesn't need to understand, she's still young and innocent; but by not explaining, her little mind comes to every possible conclusion, and most of them are more painful then the truth.

kiri - she understands, though not nearly as badly, the disconnect between her and her adoptive parents. she saw the difference between her and spider, between them two and the 'real' sully's. life was complicated, feelings and love and family was complicated, she didn't necessarily blame her parents, nor spider, but she was saddened by the turn of events. she was angry, and anger weighed her down like a stone; she was angry that her parents never gave spider the love he deserved, mad that spider was leaving for another family after all they went through together, mad that everything was falling apart. but like lo'ak she saw how much happier spider was and couldn't hold it against him, he deserved this, he shouldn't suffer the fate of being loved like a pet and not a son.

I think everyone would be feeling all the feelings very quickly and it would be rough, but its better then they could all hope for. tonowari mediates, doesn't let ronal get too angry, keeps the peace as the kids meet in the middle of the conflict, and makes sure spider is always doing the best he can amongst the chaos.

[usermischief]

chapter 56: a touch of despair Warnings: needles

You can read it on AO3 as well.

---

“Isaac!” Stiles can hear his panic echo inside the cell, down the hallway. It travels so far, but Isaac remains unconscious. “Please,” Stiles whispers, struggling to figure out what to do. “Isaac, please, wake up.” With trembling fingers, he reaches out in an attempt to shake him. But he can’t touch him. He can’t, not after what happened to Theo. They beat Isaac up and threw him in his cell as if he’s nothing more than a midnight snack. But he is. Not just to Stiles. He knows they’re going to use Isaac as leverage; they’re going to use him to make Stiles behave. “Wake up.” Stiles kneels on the cold tiles, hands outstretched. His heart races in his chest. There is nobody to ask for help. Not here. Not in Eichen House. “Isaac, please.” But begging won’t wake him up. Taking a deep breath, Stiles crawls closer. The thought of touching Isaac makes his throat close up. The memory of almost killing Theo is too fresh in his mind. It’s too easy to lose control, especially with how starved he is. He needs Isaac awake to know when it’s too much.

He needs him to wake up.

Stiles needs him to be okay.

He moves to sit next to Isaac and curls his fingers into the bloody shirt. “Hey.” His voice trembles as he starts shaking the other boy. “Isaac, wake up.” He shakes him stronger, sensing the pain he’s in through the thin fabric. “Come on, wake up. I need you to—“ Stiles cuts off, frustration and tears making it hard to speak, even harder to think.

And he’s so fucking hungry.

A soft groan reaches his ears.

“Isaac?”

Blue eyes flutter open. For all but a second, Isaac is looking at him. His split lips move into a grin, and he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like ‘found you.’

“Isaac!” Stiles yells, but the werewolf has slipped right back into unconsciousness. “Fuck. Fuck.” Fucking idiot. Did he really try to find him all alone after the Dread Doctors dragged him off? What was he thinking? He shakes him again and even risks slapping him across the face.

Once.

And that alone already gives him a taste of the pain the other boy is in. It should worry him, but his body responds like a starving person finding food for the first time in days. Days. Has it been days? Stiles has no clue how long he’s been in here. How long ago did the Dread Doctors take him? Why did they leave him here?

What did they do?

Isaac groans again, and Stiles looks down at him, trying his best to smile. “There you are.”

Grunting an incomprehensible response, Isaac closes his eyes again.

“No, stay—“

“I’m awake,” Isaac mutters, his voice so low it’s hard to tell how long he will stay awake. “I’m awake.”

Stiles swallows and scoots back onto the mattress, tugging Isaac by his shirt. Moving him with only a bit of help already brings him to the edge of his strength. He’s on his last two legs, and as much as he’d love to get as weak as possible just to spite Deaton and Valack, this place is the last he wants to be defenseless in. There are worse things down here than the two wannabe scientists.

Schrader is one of them.

“Do you want me to take some of your pain?” Stiles feels selfish asking it, but he also knows werewolves won’t heal when they’re in too much or no pain at all. It’s a win for both of them, really.

Isaac nods. “That would be nice.”

“Okay.” Stiles licks his lips, curling his hands into tight fists before letting out a breath. “But you need to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

For a moment, Isaac’s so still, Stiles isn’t sure he passed out with his eyes wide open. Then he nods slowly, and only once. “If you help me sit up.” That’s probably a good idea. The relief of pain can be overwhelming. It’s a feeling Stiles has gotten quite used to now, but there’s still a huge difference between someone taking the pain away from you or the pain vanishing because you’ve healed.

Stiles shifts onto his knees again and hooks his arms around Isaac’s shoulders. It shouldn’t take this much effort. He’s a fucking supernatural creature, but he couldn’t even have gotten Isaac into a sitting position if the werewolf didn’t help him. If Isaac notices it, he doesn’t say anything. Just like Stiles doesn’t say anything about the little whimpers, Isaac can’t keep away. His heart aches for him, and the question slips past his lips before he can stop himself. “Why?” He sits back on his heels. “Why did you follow them?”

Pushing himself a bit further upright, Isaac raises his arm almost as an offering. “Because Theo would’ve killed me if I didn’t.”

While that’s probably true, Stiles can tell that Isaac is lying to him. “Fine,” he mutters, swallowing once more before curling his fingers around Isaac’s wrist. “Don’t tell me.” For a few seconds, Stiles forces himself to hold back, just so he knows that he can. He can control this. His hunger does not get the best of him. But his resolve breaks much quicker than he would’ve liked.

And he doesn’t care.

Not when it feels so good to finally feed again. His whole body is flooded with renewed strength, and his muscles relax as the pangs of hunger finally diminish.

The relief, however, doesn’t last long enough. Stiles struggles to believe he fed more than a few seconds before the collar around his neck starts burning him again, sending hot flashes of agonizing pain through his neck, head, and chest. Stiles drops Isaac’s arm as if that’s the whole reason for his pain. Instinctively, he reaches for the collar.

But Isaac grabs his wrists. “Don’t.”

“Let go.” Stiles tries to yank his arms free, but Isaac’s grip is iron around his wrists. Slowly, the bruises on his face heal. The pain vanishes too, something Stiles would be relieved about, but that sends his body into a panic after having been starved for so long — and, now, this fucking— “get it off,” Stiles begs. “Please, please, get it off.” He can feel something running down his neck. As much as he wants it to be tears, Stiles can tell it’s blood. He can feel his body trying to heal the damage the collar is causing.

Isaac tightens his grip, eyes widening ever so slightly. But for the most part, he seems to be able to keep his expression in check. “I can try. Don’t touch it, okay?”

It’s going to be impossible not to, but Stiles nods anyway. He just wants this thing gone. He needs it gone. He can’t deal with—

But Isaac hisses when his fingers as much as brush against the collar. He yanks his hands back, watching as his skin takes its time to heal. “What the fuck is in this thing?” His gaze flicks up, staring at Stiles, the collar, and then his fingers again.

Stiles would laugh if he weren’t in so much fucking pain. He grabs the poor excuse of a sheet, knuckles turning white under pressure. Of course, Deaton lied to him. He said it himself. He wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Stiles. It’s hard to imagine Deaton hasn’t known about Isaac beforehand, so all he had to do was making sure Isaac couldn’t so anything about the collar either. “Highly concentrated mistletoe, wolf lichen, and, apparently, wolfsbane,” Stiles says through his teeth. Maybe it’s time Stiles stops underestimating Deaton, too. He may not know everything, but he knows enough to make his life down here very fucking hard.

“Come here.” Isaac pats the spot next to him.

Stiles follows the suggestion almost instantly and slumps against the werewolf.

“I can take the edge off.” Isaac grabs his wrist, and Stiles watches his veins turn black as the pain leaves his body.

A laugh bubbles out of him, and if it hadn’t, he probably would’ve cried. Not being alone in here should make him feel better, but Stiles is stuck in the place of his worst nightmares, and Isaac is stuck here with him. There’s a reason why Valack allowed them to be in this cell together. Stiles has an idea of what that might be. After all, he and Deaton have been complaining about him not cooperating.

Isaac is their leverage.

“You should’ve stayed away,” Stiles whispers, pulling his hand away when his skin stops knitting itself back together. The hunger hasn’t returned, but he feels hardly any stronger than before feeding — and that’s what this was about. They don’t want Stiles to be strong. They just need him to stay alive long enough to do whatever they think they can do.

Shaking his head, Isaac bends his legs and crosses his arms over his knees. “I couldn’t find Erica in time. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.”

Stiles sinks a little further down the wall and leans his head against Isaac’s shoulder, staring out into the bright, empty hallway in front of their now shared cell. “I wish you would’ve.”

Scoffing, Isaac leans his head against his. “Guess we have to disagree on that.”

---

They’ve gotten food four times before Schrader returns to the cell, this time accompanied by two other guards — both heavily armed with crossbows.

Isaac stiffens next to him and scrambles to his feet. His spirits are still up despite having been here for as long as Stiles must be. Four days. Maybe five. Stiles isn’t entirely sure how many meals he’s missed by simply refusing them or being punished for not cooperating. It’s hard to keep track of time in a place that always looks the same, that never gets fucking dark. Sleeping is a little easier now that Isaac can offer him a bit of relief from the light by lying on his side in front of him. But overall, it doesn’t do a lot. Isaac considered propping the mattress up, but Stiles knew the few moments of relief wouldn’t be worth the consequences.

Stiles grabs Isaac’s arm. “Stay calm,” he whispers, squeezing his wrist in warning. “Do what they say.” He doesn’t want Isaac to get hurt, not when he’s going to be the reason for it. Stiles would prefer not to have that guilt piled on top of everything else. As much as he misses Theo, maybe it’s a good thing Isaac is down here with him.

“Corner that mutt,” Schrader orders the two other hunters before opening the door.

The hunters slide inside, their eyes darting from Stiles, who steps away with both hands raised, to Isaac, who does exactly what Stiles asked — he stands in the corner. He doesn’t move, although he looks like he’s two seconds away from ripping everyone’s head off.

“What do you want?” Stiles watches Schrader enter the cell, holding a small satchel.

Schrader raises a brow at Isaac. “You got him trained well.”

“You don’t train your friends,” Stiles remarks before he can stop himself, “but you wouldn’t know that.” The moment he says it, Stiles wishes he could take his words back. There’s no telling of what Schrader will do — or who will be punished for his mouthing off.

Schrader chuckles, and then, not even a heartbeat later, he backhands him so hard Stiles’ head flies to the right. “Watch your mouth.” His voice is low and threatening, the manic glint in his eyes the only warning Stiles gets before Schrader grabs his jaw and slams him against the wall. “It would be a shame if something happened to it.”

A low growl fills the cell.

“Or him.” Schrader smiles.

Stiles swallows. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles as best as he can. His heart jackrabbits in his chest. The hand vanishes, but Stiles doesn’t exactly feel any sort of relief. His state of panic comes and goes with Schrader. It seems like his body remembers what his mind does not. He barely remembers seeing Schrader the last time he was here. All he knows is that he’s met him before and been scared of this place ever since he set foot in here for the first time. Stiles always thought Brunski was to thank for that, but he starts doubting that Brunski was the only person to blame.

“Doc wants your blood.” Schrader pulls out a tourniquet, dangling it in front of Stiles’ face like a threat. “I recommend you do what I tell you from now on. I don’t draw blood often.” The smirk makes that statement a clear lie.

But Stiles nods anyway. “Sure.”

Schrader doesn’t move away, not allowing Stiles an inch of freedom. They’re too close, almost chest to chest, and at this point, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if Schrader heard his heart judging by how hard it’s hammering against his ribs. “Give me your arm.”

As requested, Stiles follows the command and turns his head away, fixing his gaze on the corner of the mattress. The thought of needles is enough to make him squirm. The last few times, they came with an injection down here. Nobody cared much about being gentle. Stiles doubts Schrader will do much better by drawing blood. Not that it matters. A needle is a needle, and Stiles would prefer if it stayed away from his body as far away as possible. Not looking at it is the best course of action if he doesn’t want to faint or throw up. He doubts Schrader would be very happy about that.

His sleeve is pushed up roughly, the tourniquet pulled too tight.

“Pump your fist.”

Stiles leans his left cheek against the cool tiles and does as he’s told. It’s impossible for him to relax or to keep his mind occupied with something that isn’t the fact that one of the people he’s terrified of is about to push a needle into him.

“Issues with seeing blood?” Schrader asks, sounding terribly amused as he disinfects the hollow of Stiles’ elbow.

“Issues with—“ Stiles grinds his teeth, forcing himself to take a deep breath and not go through with what he wanted to say. “No,” he says softly, looking up to find Isaac smiling at him. Looking at Isaac might be the better option than staring at the floor.

Schrader pats his cheek. “Good boy.”

Stiles wishes he could kick him in the balls for that. Instead, he takes a deep breath and keeps looking at Isaac, who tries to smile even though his eyes are murderous.

At least until Schrader pokes him with the needle, only to pull it out again with a chuckle. “Missed it.”

Swallowing another insult, Stiles opts for a short chuckle himself. “Happens to the best of us.” It’s fine. As long as he doesn’t look at it. It’s going to be fine. So, he looks at Isaac. Looking at Isaac is safe. He grinds his teeth as Schrader repeats the process twice, just to fuck with him, but Stiles also knows that a lack of a response is something that bores people like Schrader endlessly.

And he seems to be right because Schrader happens to be successful the fourth time and draws his blood without further comment. He opens the tourniquet.

Stiles forces himself to open his fist. Despite having gone through the worst of this procedure, he still feels a bit like throwing up. He gave his doctors hell as a child, and now he wishes he’d be at a hospital because he doubts any of this equipment is sterile. Then again, it’s not like it matters anymore. The only shit that’s actually harmful to him is already wrapped around his neck.

“That’s it for now.” Schrader pulls the needle out and yanks the tourniquet off unceremoniously. After putting everything back into the satchel, he grabs Stiles’ jaw again. “Next time,” he says as his grip turns painful, “you’re going to behave exactly like this from the beginning, or your dog’s going to get hurt. Are we clear?”

Stiles wouldn’t have pegged Schrader as someone who gives second chances, but he takes what he can get at this point. So, he nods.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Schrader stares at him for a little while longer. It’s almost like he’s waiting for a reason to hurt Isaac or Stiles. He’s got to be under strict instructions not to because Stiles wouldn’t put it past him to find an excuse. But he leaves without doing or saying anything else, and his hunter buddies follow him dutifully.

Isaac lets out a long breath. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Get in line,” Stiles mutters, checking his arm for any marks, but they’ve already healed like nothing had happened. He swipes away a drop of blood that’s escaped.

“Any idea what they need that for?” Isaac sits back down on the mattress.

Stiles shakes his head. It’s a good question. “They wanna separate the nemeton from me.” Even that is still a fucking mystery to him. How the hell are they’re going to do that? “Maybe they need to see if I’m anemic.” He collapses next to Isaac and puts his chin on his knees. Whatever they need it for, it’s probably not going to be good.

---

Stiles drops the stale piece of bread on the tray and pushes it away from him. If he makes it out of here, he desperately needs something real to eat. He can’t stand another day of bread and whatever they add to it. “You think they’ll come for us?” Stiles would prefer to sound less hopeless, but the light and the quiet and this fucking place is getting to him.

“You think anything’s going to stop Theo?” Isaac’s lips quirk into a tired smile. It’s probably not a great time for him either, locked up in a small cell in the basement of a nightmarish place.

Sighing, Stiles hugs his legs to his chest. Although Isaac isn’t wrong, he hopes that Theo listened to him when he told him to stay away, if he even heard him. After all, he was asleep. It’s entirely possible Theo couldn’t hear him or thought it was nothing more than a dream. It’s also very possible Theo knew it was him, but he ignored his request. If he’s being perfectly honest, the latter sounds the most like Theo. Nothing will stop his boyfriend from getting to him, not even fully armed hunters, who are expecting them to come. “They might not even know where we are.”

Isaac breaks his bread apart and studies it for a moment. “Brett can feel you, can’t he? And Jordan can track the nemeton.”

“I guess, yeah.” Stiles leans his cheek against his knee and studies Isaac’s face. His body language wants to say, ‘Everything’s fine,’ but something about his face tells the exact opposite. Stiles can’t blame him. He feels the same way. “But I haven’t been able to feel the ley lines since wearing this shit.” He points at the collar around the neck, and the last time he was in touch with the others through the ley lines, it didn’t sound like they had any idea where he was. “How did you find me?” Stiles remembers hearing him talk when he first realized that Theo could hear him.

Almost tentatively, Isaac nibbles on the bread. He scrunches up his face in disgust but doesn’t drop it. “I saw them walk into the tunnels. It’s where I lost them.” Isaac shrugs, glancing at him before returning his attention to his food. “Corey mentioned there used to be one of their operating theaters down here. So I went looking… and before I knew it, I woke up here. It’s like they’ve been waiting for me.” Yeah, that’s not surprising. They were probably posted up in the tunnels after figuring out where they got in the last time. 

Or maybe the Dread Doctors lured him here.

Stiles still doesn’t quite understand why the Dread Doctors just… gave him up. Either they can’t use the nemeton’s power as long as it’s connected to him, or they’re already done with whatever they needed from him. But Stiles didn’t feel another chimera the last time he connected to the ley lines. Does that mean they failed? Or does that mean they succeeded? But he can feel Theo, and Theo is a success. The chimeras need the nemeton. They can’t exist without one. It doesn’t make sense.

Sighing, Stiles falls back onto the mattress. “Why’d you go alone?”

Isaac plops down right next to him, shoulder pressed against his. Having him down here with him is most likely the only thing keeping Stiles sane at the moment. “Because everyone’s been too busy coming up with a plan. I lost the Dread Doctors in the tunnels and went straight to Satomi. I should’ve gone to Theo instead.” Isaac grimaces a little. “He wouldn’t have waited, but now Jackson and Peter have him on lockdown. They’re worried he’d do something stupid.” Great, Theo is never going to forgive them.

“So, you decided to do something stupid instead.” Stiles wants to be grateful, but he wishes Isaac would’ve been smarter. Thankfully, he went to his alpha, though, because otherwise Valack would’ve gotten his hand on Theo.

“Someone had to.” Isaac chuckles and crosses his arms over his stomach.

Stiles sighs. “You know Jordan and my dad will never let us go anywhere alone ever again.” Theo will most likely never let him out of his sight, either.

“Guess we can kiss colle—“ He sits up without warning, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Schrader’s coming back.”

Fuck.

Stiles pushes himself into a seating position. As much as he would like to pretend that Schrader has found himself down here to torture one of the other inmates, he highly doubts it. Knowing his luck, Schrader has been assigned to him and him alone. And lo and behold, this walking nightmare turns the corner with a smile. Following him are the same two hunters from the last time. One of them has a different hairstyle, so one day seems to have passed between then and now.

He can’t wait to see the sun again.

“It’s shower time.” Considering how excited Schrader sounds, it’s almost hard to believe Stiles really has the chance to finally clean himself up. He hasn’t seen fresh water since he broke out of that fucking tube, and who knows how clean that’s been. “Let’s go.” He claps his hands.

Isaac and Stiles exchange a glance as they get to his feet.

“Both of us?” Isaac asks. It’s a good question. There’s no way they allow them to go into the showers together.

“You think I’m stupid?” Schrader opens the cell door. Like yesterday, the two hunters step inside and corner Isaac, who doesn’t fight back once again. “We’ll do this one by one, and you’re coming with me.”

The last thing Stiles wants to do is follow Schrader anywhere, much less shower when he’s close by. But he’s not having much choice, and Stiles really wants to shower. He’d kill for a set of fresh clothes as well. Maybe today is his lucky day. To be fair, every day he doesn’t have a supernatural nose is his lucky day. It’s not the prettiest smell down here by human standards. Isaac’s most likely not having a great time.

Schrader produces a little key and unhooks the chain from Stiles’ collar. “You don’t need that any longer, do you?”

Stiles cuts his gaze to Isaac for a moment. Under different circumstances, freeing him would be a stupid idea. But Stiles wouldn’t abandon Isaac. “No.” He’s not about to do anything that could risk Isaac’s life. They’re both bound here by keeping the other person safe. It’s such an easy way to control them, Stiles is almost mad about it. He takes a breath. “After you.” He focuses on Schrader again, who leaves the cell with a chuckle, and Stiles follows him.

The hunters step out and close the door, but they’re not leaving with them — not because there’s a risk Isaac could run. It’s because that way, all Schrader has to do is call them, and Isaac will be punished for Stiles’ wrongdoing. 

Or just because Schrader is in the mood.

Stiles keeps his eyes locked on the man before him, trying to block out the other supernatural creatures in the cells surrounding him. He remembers the sluagh he saw when they visited Valack down here. Stiles has absolutely no interest in seeing Donovan again, or maybe even Caitlin. It’s enough if their deaths are in his head. He does not need to be reminded of them by seeing something that pretends to be them for no other reason than fucking with his head.

Schrader leads him through a door and down another short hallway. Stiles knows the way. He’s mapped it out for days before they broke Peter out. At this point, he’d probably find it in his sleep — and Schrader probably knows that. Perhaps that’s why they are going to the exact showers they used to break in. It’s another way of proving to Stiles that he has the upper hand.

As if that isn’t clear enough yet.

When they reach the showers, Schrader unlocks the door and gestures for him to walk in first.

The room is cold and empty, but Stiles spots a set of fresh clothes — light gray sweatpants, a dark blueish gray shirt, and a pair of socks and boxer briefs in dark gray — as well as a towel. At least he can get rid of the clothes he’s currently wearing. He didn’t exactly expect something that nice from the people down here. Folding his arms over his chest, Stiles can’t help but glance toward the gutter. Even from here, he can see that it’s been screwed shut again. There's no way for him to get out, but maybe Isaac’s got more luck. If only he’d leave if Stiles told him to.

“Looking for something?”

Stiles all but jumps out of his skin. He stumbles forward, bringing distance between him and Schrader. “No, I just— no.” He shakes his head and then glances at the closed door. Is he going to stay in here while Stiles showers? That’s not necessary. There’s nowhere for him to go, and there’s nothing he can do in here aside from showering.

“Good.” Schrader sits on one of the benches, stretching and looking like he’s getting as comfortable as possible. “For a moment there, I was worried you’re thinking about doing something stupid… like trying to escape.” Of course, he knows. That’s exactly why they’re here. That’s exactly why he got that chain off him. Schrader is waiting for him to act up just so he can punish Isaac.

Without replying, Stiles retreats further into the showers. He goes for the one farthest away from Schrader and turns it on. The water hitting him is ice cold, and for a moment, he worries it’s going to stay that way. He seems to be lucky for once because it turns warm only a few moments later. Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. With the water running, he hurries back to the clothes and the towel. There’s not much he can do about privacy, but the low walls, at the very least, give the illusion.

He places everything on the bathtub before stepping under the shower. The feeling of wet fabric sticking to him makes him want to peel his skin off, but Stiles has absolutely no intentions of undressing in the middle of the room. He’s never been the biggest fan of locker rooms, but this situation is a whole new level of fuck that.

Slowly, Stiles gets rid of all his clothes, tossing them onto the cold tiles in front of the poor excuse of a shower stall before stepping back under the water and allows himself to close his eyes and relax for a moment. He hasn't received a time limit, but Stiles doubts that the water will stay warm for long down here — or that Schrader will let him relax for more than five minutes.

“You know,” Schrader says, sounding so conversationally, strangers could think they’re old colleagues, “I’ve been wondering. Do you remember me?”

Stiles opens his eyes. The words make his heart speed up, and for a few moments, he’s not sure if he should respond.

Schrader continues talking before he gets the chance to. “Because you looked pretty spooked that first day.”

No matter where this conversation is headed, Stiles has no interest in having it in the shower. Since there’s no soap, he starts scrubbing himself off as best as he can with just water. “I thought I saw your face before,” he replies quietly, unsure if his words are even audible over the sound of running water. But he never knew his name, and he doesn’t actively remember anything else — or anything about Schrader that he might’ve heard. He wonders if Oliver talked about him, or if the nogitsune saw something, or if perhaps Stiles just connected his face to the time he spent at Eichen, a time he’d prefer to forget after what happened with Malia and Oliver, Meredith and the nogitsune in general. He hates how sketchy his memories of everything are because he hadn’t slept in days, was hopped up on multiple drugs, and was possessed by a goddamn fox demon. Sometimes, he isn’t even entirely sure what happened did happen.

But that goes for most of his possession. Stiles thought he witnessed everything the nogitsune did. The more time passed, however, the less sure he was about it.

That still doesn’t explain why Schrader makes him feel so damn anxious.

Why not Brunski? Because he’s dead?

And does he really want to know?

“That sedative should’ve knocked you out completely.”

Stiles hears the bench creaking as Schrader gets up. He turns the water off and rushes to the towel, wrapping it around himself before turning to face the other man again. “So it was you,” he says when the real question refuses to roll over his tongue.

What did you do?

“Who sedated you? No.” Schrader seems highly amused at that. “We never met while you were awake. Or so I thought.” He just stands there, looking at him, with his arms folded over his chest and a grin on his lips. Stiles would love to punch clean off.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he steps away and grabs his clothes. Stiles doesn’t much care about being dry as long as he’s dressed. “So what?” he asks, unable to hide the panic creeping into his voice, “You came creeping into the room while I was knocked out?” Well, only mostly, apparently, because some part remembered Schrader’s face enough to be afraid of him. If they never met otherwise, Oliver must’ve told him something, but the kid said so much Stiles only half-listened most of the time. Not that it matters because it turns out he’s not wrong to be afraid of Schrader.

“Brunski talked about you.”

Stiles freezes after putting on the boxer briefs. The way Schrader’s voice grew cold did not go unnoticed.

“Mostly about how much he’d enjoy punishing you. Probably because of who your father is.”

That wouldn’t be the first person who hated him because he happens to be the sheriff’s kid. Swallowing, Stiles reaches for the pair of sweatpants.

But Schrader curls his fingers into his hair and yanks his head back. “And then you killed him.”

How ironic. Stiles created a nightmare from a face he saw while heavily sedated, and now that nightmare became reality. He can’t decide if he’s more pissed at himself or Schrader, who continues to prove there is a reason to fear the darkness creeping into Stiles’ dreams. “I didn’t kill him,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to betray his anger. “He did that himself.” His mouth does it for him.

“Your friend is lucky,” Schrader whispers, “that this is going to stay between us.”

Before Stiles can ask what ‘this’ is, his head is slammed against one of the tiled half-walls. Pain explodes behind his left eye, spreading quickly throughout his whole head. Blood gushes from his left brow, covering his sight. The fingers leave his hair, and when Stiles tries to move, his whole world shifts to the right, and he slams to the ground. His left brow pulses like a fucking epicenter of pain.

Stiles curls his hands into fists, biting back the whimper trying to escape his mouth.

A foot connects with his rips.

Again.

And again.

Stiles screams out in pain, not sure how to fight him off with blood in his eyes clouding his vision — not sure if he should fight him off or if that would make things so much worse, not just for him, but for Isaac too.

When Schrader stops, Stiles isn’t sure how much time has passed. It’s hard to keep track when pain ebbs and flows as his body deals with the damage. Perhaps that’s what made Schrader even more mad. The bruises don’t last. There’s nothing to marvel at but his memories.

“For my sake,” Schrader spits, kicking Stiles’ shoulder to roll him onto his back, “I hope you survive.”

Stiles grins up at him, exhausted and with the first pangs of hunger echoing in his bones. “I’m going to kill you,” he whispers, tasting blood in his mouth as he pushes himself to his feet. The movements still hurt, his body not entirely done with healing him. “But before I do, I’ll make you cower and whimper and beg for your life like the pathetic waste of a human being that you are.” He curls his hands into fists, eyes locked on Schrader, who retreats a single step before he catches himself and straightens to his full height again. Not once does he reach for the walkie-talkie to punish Isaac for Stiles’ threat. “Even Valack knows what you are.” And Valack is the one making the decisions around here. He is the one who decides if Stiles’ behavior is worth punishing Isaac. Schrader used Stiles’ fear against him. Simple psychology and Stiles fucking fell for it. “That’s why you’re down here, aren’t you? Did they catch you watching inmates in the shower?” Every single word makes Schrader angrier and angrier; the room is full of his rage, giving Stiles enough to draw from. But he’s learned his lesson. He won’t take too much. Not this time. This fucking collar has brought him to his knees the last time.

And so has Schrader.

“Watch your mouth,” he seethes, crossing the room, still not reaching for the radio.

Stiles was right. His word means nothing down here. “Or what?” he drawls, smile widening as Schrader abruptly stops. “You gonna stick me with needles again? Or are you going to stick me with something else?” 

Schrader’s face flushes red with anger. It comes as no surprise when he brandishes a syringe, no doubt filled with wolf lichen. He didn’t bring a weapon, probably thinking that Stiles would comply, that he would sit here and take it and not put two and two together. He shouldn’t have given him a second chance the first time Stiles mouthed off to him. He should’ve never told Stiles what really happened. It’s the mystery that kept the fear alive because now Stiles knows who Schrader really is.

A pathetic man, desperate for power over those who already have none.

Before either of them can move, the door to the showers flies open, and Valack bursts in, followed by at least four other nurses, who instantly point their weapons at Stiles. Two of them, he realizes, are the guys Schrader left behind with Isaac. Looks like one of them called the big boss.

Stiles raises both of his hands. He’s not stupid enough to mouth off now, but he can’t help but smile.

A vein ticks very visibly at Valack’s temple as his gaze flies from the blood on Stiles’ face to the syringe in his subordinate's hand. “Schrader,” he says in a dangerous tone, then turns to the others. “Bring him back to his room.”

“May I get dressed first?” Stiles asks, pointing briefly at the clothes behind his back.

Valack gestures briefly, something that could potentially mean, ‘Do as you wish.’

Stiles doesn’t waste a second.

---

“I really want to tell you how bloody stupid you are, but—“

“You don’t really have any room to argue.” Stiles rolls his shoulders and leans back against Isaac’s shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh. Although he’s not necessarily afraid of Schrader any longer, this place is still scaring him. For multiple reasons. Waiting for the inevitable, for Deaton or Valack to do whatever they brought him here for — and see them fail. Hopefully, or succeed, if that means the chimeras will stay alive. Stiles can’t do much more than hope. After all, it’s all he can do besides running his mouth. He can’t use his powers, and he can consider himself lucky he’s still able to heal, or the whole thing with Schrader could’ve ended very differently.

Isaac leans his head against Stiles’. “What do you think everyone’s doing?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says as he opens his eyes again, squinting a little as he adjusts to the light again. There’s no way to tell what they’re up to right now. Planning, maybe. If Peter and Jackson are making sure Theo can’t do anything stupid, Stiles at least won’t have to worry about that. With Isaac missing too, however, the Ito pack got dragged into this whole mess, and Stiles doubts Brett will take very kindly to people kidnapping members of his pack. “But maybe I can find out.” He very much doubts it since he’s felt cut off from the ley lines ever since Deaton put this collar on him, but he can, at the very least, try.

Isaac squints at him. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Remember when you thought Theo lost his mind?”

For a moment, Isaac simply stares at him. “You’re kidding. You talked to him?”

Stiles shrugs. He did something for sure. “When I got in touch with the ley lines, I somehow managed to hear you… through Theo. Maybe because of our bond. I’m not sure how it worked, but it did.” With how badly Stiles usually clings to Theo’s spark, it’s possible their bond evolved into something else entirely.

Isaac opens his mouth, then thinks better of it and shakes his head. “Fine, what’s the plan?”

“Put the mattress against the wall. Maybe hiding in the shadows…” Stiles trails off with an almost helpless shrug. Hope is the only thing they’ve got left, but he doesn’t want to waste it on something that has nearly no chance of working. “If we get caught, we might lose the mattress, though.” Unless Valack is trying to make up for what happened with Schrader, which is highly doubtful but not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Most likely considering the possibility of having to stay here indefinitely without a mattress, Isaac looks out into the hallway, arms crossed over his knees. Eventually, he sighs and stands up. “Fuck it.” He pulls Stiles to his feet as well. “Let’s try it. Whatever.” Without further ado, he grabs the mattress and props it against the wall, leaving just enough space for Stiles to crawl behind it.

Which he does.

The reprieve from the light is already worth the risk of losing the mattress. His muscles relax for the first time in days, even his heartbeat slows down. A world of stress and anxiety falls from his shoulders. If he hadn’t known before how much light could affect him, this would certainly be his awakening. Sighing, Stiles shuffles around until he’s on his back and fully hidden behind the mattress.

“And?”

“Could you please give me a minute?” Stiles rolls his shoulders and folds his hands over his stomach. After taking another deep breath, he closes his eyes. But his hopes are pretty quickly quenched when he’s feeling nothing. Not a tug. Not the whisper of a ley line. All he can feel is the collar around his neck, almost as if it’s trying to strangle him, to drag him under and keep him away from the ley line at any and all costs.

He’s trying to remember the wildness of Theo’s spark, to grasp onto this feeling, but he can’t hold onto it. All he finds is emptiness.

Taking a shaky breath, Stiles opens his eyes again. Sure, he expected it. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get in touch with the ley lines, but he hoped— he fucking hoped — that he could at least get a glimpse of Theo, a brush of his spark. He’d take anything right now to find Theo, feel him, and know he’s still there. It’s a stupid thought. Of course, Theo is still there. Theo would never abandon him. Not even Tracy being back worries him in any type of way.

But he misses him.

Painfully.

“Stiles,” Isaac says only a second before he pulls the mattress away, “someone’s com— are you okay?”

The answer to that would be ‘no.’ Not even in the slightest. But Stiles doesn’t want to worry Isaac any more than he necessarily needs to. They don’t exactly have time for heartbreak right now. “I’m fine.” Stiles gets to his feet, wishing he could take this collar and shove it down Deaton’s throat. “Who’s coming?”

Isaac grimaces. “Valack.”

“Great.” As much as Stiles clings on to the hope that they get out of here because their friends somehow manage to break in and out a second time in only a short amount of time or luck is on Isaac and his side for once, the far bigger thing that gets him going ever since Schrader attacked him in the showers is revenge. He’s out for blood, and he will kill everyone who’s involved in this plan. Thinking they can control him and push him around, it’s going to be their downfall.

But Valack remains confident, at least judging by the smile he wears when he comes to a halt in front of the cell. “Am I interrupting something?”

“My inner peace.” Stiles steps right up to the glass and crosses his arms. He’s not particularly interested in having a conversation with him at the moment. He’d prefer to smash his face into a wall.

“It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.” Valack pushes his hands into the pockets of his expensive suit pants. “I regret to inform you that Schrader will continue to be responsible for you.” Regret isn’t exactly a feeling Stiles gets from the other man, and judging by Isaac rolling his eyes, he’s probably right about that. “Nobody else is willing to take care of you. It seems like you frighten them.” His last words are accompanied by a wrinkle of his nose as if the mere idea disgusts him.

Isaac steps next to him, cocking his head to the side. “You’re frightened, too.”

Valack clenches his jaw, the only response he allows himself before continuing the conversation as if Isaac never said anything. “Schrader will be under the supervision of me or Deaton, so there won’t be a repeat of what happened earlier today.”

Drawing his brows together, Stiles studies Valack. He never even considered that it might have been a possibility to get rid of Schrader. That’s why he never mentioned or demanded it. However, Valack trying to get another orderly to work with him is interesting. After all, he never looked particularly invested in Stiles’ well-being, much less his survival. “What do you want?” Stiles smiles at the man, watching as surprise crosses his features for all but a second before he tries to cover it up by fixing his tie.

“There is something I need you to test tonight,” Valack informs him, not quite looking at him but trying his best to make it seem like he does. “I think it would be wise to feed beforehand.”

Isaac scoffs.

Stiles raises his brows. “Feeding is useless with this thing around my neck.”

“Of course.” There’s a bitter edge to his voice, but Valack smiles through it. “Well, then you might as well feed right before.” He straightens his jacket. “You two will join me after dinner.” With a nod, more to himself than Isaac or Stiles, he turns around and returns to wherever he came from.

“The fuck does he want?” Isaac mutters, pushing the mattress back into the corner with a frown.

Good question.

---

“Ah, wonderful. Come on in.” Valack waves them into a room that should not exist anywhere in a 20-mile radius of a health facility. It seems to have been a former cell, but the glass wall has been partially removed. There’s a chair in the middle of the room, the walls are filled with desks and cabinets filled with various different things.

Most of all, filth and cobwebs.

“How was dinner?”

Stiles and Isaac exchange a glance over the orderlies' heads. Even they seem a little confused by Valack’s facade. “Stale.”

“Predictable,” Isaac adds, pulling his head away when one of the crossbows gets a bit too close to his face. They’re dripping wolfsbane. It’s hard to tell which one, but there is absolutely no outcome of Isaac getting poisoned down here that could have any chance at a happy ending.

“Speaking of predictable.” Valack puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and pushes him not so gently towards the chair in the middle of the room. “What do you think about predicting the future?”

Stiles sits down, not any less confused now than when Valack first told him he wanted to see them after dinner. “Like… fortune-tellers?”

“Clairvoyance.”

“So, like a psychic.”

Valack stares at him with a frown, clearly annoyed that Stiles is missing the point — which he is, very much so. They locked him up here to separate the nemeton from him. Now he’s in a room that violates every hygiene regulation for a hospital, talking to a madman about the possibility of predicting the future. It doesn’t make any sense.

“Did you go to a psychic, Gabriel?” Stiles raises his brow.

“It seems,” Valack says, sounding more than unamused about the turn this conversation took, “something lifted your spirits again.”

Stiles chuckles. “I just can’t imagine you falling for card tricks, is all.” Even though he doesn’t like to admit it, Valack is too smart for that. He can’t see him believing anything said to him in a tent at a fair for a horrendous price.

“If I remember correctly, Lydia Martin is able to predict death.”

“Death we’re able to avoid if we’re fast enough. The future isn’t set in stone, Valack. Things can always change.” There are exceptions to the rule. His mother, who assured him his fate was not written down by three old women who share one eye, was such an exception. She couldn’t change her future, no matter how hard she and her doctors tried. “Is that why you wanted me down here? Because the nemeton can’t predict the future. I can’t help you.” There may be many things the power of the nemeton might be able to achieve, but none of them have anything to do with psychic abilities.

Valack shakes his head with a chuckle. “It’s the fox I need, specifically, your powers of electromagnetokinesis.” He turns around, humming in a way that seems too delighted for Stiles’ liking and pulls something out of the set of drawers right behind him.

The thing turns out to be a Dread Doctor’s mask.

Stiles all but jumps off the chair, stumbling over his feet as he does so. It’s not hard to imagine what’s supposed to happen with this mask. The Dread Doctors have similar powers to kitsune’s that much he’s managed to gather. After all, Stiles, Kira, and Noshiko are immune to what they can do. It’s no surprise that all of their gear would need similar powers to function.

But Stiles is not about to touch any of that shit. “Get that thing away from me.” 

Two people grab him, holding him in place, as Valack lifts the mask a little higher. “This mask was created by The Surgeon. He managed to harness electromagnetic fields within this very mask, giving the wearer the ability to utilize clairvoyance.” He sets the mask onto the abandoned chair, fixing Stiles with a smug smile. “Unfortunately, only those possessing similar powers can wield this power. Which means that you will put on this mask and tell me what you see, or Mr. Lahey will die a very slow and painful death.”

Stiles presses his lips into a thin line. That threat doesn’t come as a surprise, and he really wishes they’d be more creative. Unfortunately, this is all they need to have Stiles do exactly what they want. “It would probably be easier without this collar.”

“Certainly,” Valack agrees, propping his hands next to the mask, "I managed to extract your DNA from your blood. Rest assured, even without full access to your powers, you're still very much a fox." The smile falls from his lips as he picks the mask back up. “Sit, or you will be seated.” Time for fun and games is very much over.

Grinding his teeth, Stiles yanks his arms free from Schrader and the other orderly. One day, he’s going to kill this man, and he’s going to enjoy every single fucking second of it. He returns to the chair, sitting down and glancing in Isaac’s direction. There’s no room for him to move, either. One wrong move and the two orderlies will poison him. 

“You see,” Valack says as he steps in front of him, “some things are set in stone.” The smile returns, and it’s the last thing Stiles sees before the mask is put on him.

For a few seconds, nothing seems to happen. All Stiles senses is the smell of old leather — and hopefully nothing more than that, as well as the crackle of electricity. It’s impossible to see out of the goggles. They’re broken and dirty and—

Without warning, a sharp pain starts at his left temple, spreading extremely quickly until it feels like Stiles’ head is splitting open. He screams in pain, trying to grab the mask, to rip it off. But someone grabs his arms. He’s pulled up and pressed against the chair. Someone is yelling something he cannot hear over his own screams. There is no future in this mask. There is nothing in this mask.

Only pain.

“Please,” Stiles screams.

There’s more yelling. More screaming. Something is crashing.

And then, there’s silence.

Stiles blinks his eyes open.

“What do you see?” Valack’s voice is distant and quiet, like he was talking to him through a wall.

Carefully, Stiles raises his hands to his head. The mask is gone, so is the chair, the room, and everyone else inside it. He’s alone in a different room. It almost looks like the one he’s woken up in a few days ago. But why would he be here again? A shudder runs down his back. It’s so awfully quiet, so wrong.

Stiles takes a step forward, but his foot catches on something on the ground. Furrowing his brows, he looks down.

And there’s Isaac, cowering at his feet, hands folded over his head, almost as if he’s protecting his face from something — or someone.

Stiles crouches down, about to grab Isaac’s shoulder, when he catches sight of something else.

Blood.

There’s blood everywhere.

[girl4music]

Comment by @LaineyBug2020: “You keep saying that's not Willow, but that she's actually thinking the things she's saying. You're right on both counts. This is Dark Willow. She is a part of Willow as a whole. We all have that Darkness inside of us, no matter how good we try to be. This was illustrated by how easy it was for Willow to let the magic take over. She repressed a lot of herself when we first met her. Joss is showing us why we shouldn't do that. Remember how easily she was led to the demon that got released into the computer?

Remember how she never dealt with her feelings with Xander and let herself get involved in an adulterous relationship? Until now, she kept herself so repressed that anytime she tapped into more power, you would see her eyes turn black.

Then, when tragedy strikes, she’s so used to repressing that she just represses the part of herself that feels anything but vengeance. Vengeance is a powerful place to exist, much more powerful than grief. Grief is powerless. She has let herself be powerless for too long.

When we deny parts of ourselves, all we do is create imbalances and extreme dichotomies. Two extremes can't share the same place, so that's when dissociation occurs. Dark Willow is completely dissociated from her humanity, so there is nothing to temper the base impulses or intrusive thoughts.

Which is why she says what she says to Dawn.

Eventually (without spoiling too much) we get to see White Willow, the other end of the spectrum. But we don't get to see it until Willow learns how to honor, balance and thus control every part of her.

Joss uses this theme with Oz's arc when he has to leave to connect with his wolf so he can control it.

He also uses it with Spike vs Angel. Angel is a represser and a brooder. He shuns the 'Angelus' part of him when he is cursed with a soul, to the point where Angelus is able to keep secrets from him and be a constant threat. Spike accepted his Demon nature and learned to be good with it instead of in spite of it when his ability to harm people was taken away. He fought for a soul with his Demon nature fully participating so there was never a danger of him losing his soul. There was a blip he faced with The First, but he faced it right away and became stronger for it.

Even Buffy has to do this. Faith is an example of what can happen if we repress. Buff struggles throughout the show's run with honoring every part of herself to stay balanced and powerful. Especially after she's brought back.

That's what we can take away from this theme. Feel and honour every part of yourself. We are complex, but when in balance, we are POWERFUL.”

👏👏👏👏👏

Wonderfully fucking said. Wow!

One of Willow’s most repressed traits is sadism. Vampire Willow expresses and exhibits it with abandon. But there’s a reason why she’s one of the most sadistic vampires that we ever get to see in the Buffyverse.

It’s not because of the demon who took over Willow’s body. It’s because of Willow. Willow’s repressed sadism is something I love talking about because it’s such a fascinating subject when it comes to her characterisation.

You witness tidbits of it every now and again but it’s used for light humour. To break the tension in the narrative. We never think much of it until it’s used for a different purpose such as here.

Iconic Willow one-liners like “Occasionally, I’m callous and strange.” And “If you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel.” and “He deserves a torturous and slow death by spider bites.”

Innocent funny one-liners or repressed sadism? Yes.

She was never as innocent or pure as she seemed. There was very much a storm brewing inside of this one and Season 6 said let it rain!

And it’s probably the best fucking payoff of all the built-up character representation and development in the entire show. I adore it.

[strawberrylabs]

Whumptober day 10 (she/her version)

Prompt: You said you'd never leave

Whumptober Masterlist

They/them version, he/him version

Summary: You promised Bennet that you'd stay with him despite his misfortune. But what happens when you break that promise?

Warnings: Blood, gore, burns, graphic injuries, alludes to death, pain, broken bones, missiles/rockets (ruin guard)

When Bennet was adopted by the adventurer's guild, you were asked to look after him.

Of course you accepted.

Something about him just drew you in.

Next thing you know, you have a little brother who's with you every second of the day.

You taught him how to use a sword, How to control his vision when he got it, how to treat wounds, how to cook.

Even if he tripped over his own feet, burned his vision a little too hot, used too much ointment or burnt the food, you never gave up caring for him.

When he was a little older, he started worrying about his bad luck making you go away like it had so many other people in his life.

But time after time he brought it up, you assured him that you would never leave him. That you’d always stick by his side. You’d always be there to patch him up, to wipe his tears, to hold him when the nights got a little too dark.

Whenever he asked why you’d always reply

“It’s what big sisters are for”

The first time you called yourself his sister he cried. 

He clutched his heart and smiled as big ugly tears ran down his face.

After that he made it a point to call you his older sister, never failing to try and be the best younger brother he could. 

The two of you often did everything together. 

And that used to include commissions too- until you joined the knights.

Not much changed really, you were still as close as ever, only now you couldn’t help him on commissions..

It worried you at first, when he started coming back covered in more and more bruises and scratches, less treasure from the chests.. And less people in his team. 

You were annoyed at the people who had left his team, especially when he was so proud to have formed it in the first place. 

But when he never stopped smiling, and continued on with resilience even hardened adventurers didn’t have.

Over time your fears and worries all but subsided. You knew Bennet would not give up no matter what came his way in the future. 

And for the most part, everything was manageable. A few scrapes, a few bad commissions. Nothing serious..

Until one day Bennet hadn’t come home. 

Bennet was always home before you were, usually he’d prepare some tea or coffee or whatever your usual drink is for you.

But today he wasn’t there.

Most people would probably wait, simply thinking he’d gotten caught up with something.

But you knew better. Bennet would always find some way to let you know if he was going to be late. Always.

You ran to Kathryn and asked where his commission was. Sensing your distress, she told you

Stormterror’s lair.

The pit in your stomach grew. Stormterror’s lair was dangerous. Everyone knew this. The fact that that was where Bennet was, and he was late? Something was wrong.

You never ran so fast. You let Lawrence and Swan know to send backup as you ran out the gate, thinking of nothing but finding your brother.

When you made it to Stormterror’s lair, you heard a yell of ‘help!’ echo around the air.

“Bennet! Where are you?!” 

You ran in the direction of the voice, your feet aching from previously running all the way from Mondstadt. 

You hear your name.

You come to a halt when you see him; foot trapped underneath fallen rubble, scratches and bruises all over.

“I knew you’d find me! My bad luck is no match against my big sister!” Despite his words and smile, you were not blind to the tear tracks in the dirt of his face.

He was expecting to die here.

Your heart clenched. 

“That’s right. No matter what happens. I’ll always be there to beat your bad luck.”

Your words of comfort seemed to have spurred the universe on to spite you. 

The familiar, dreadful sound of a ruin guard powering up reached both of your ears.

No wasting more time, you tried to lift the stones off Bennet’s foot- said boy gritted his teeth in clear pain. 

Before you have the chance to move the rubble off of Bennet’s foot, you move to defend him from the incoming rockets.

You just pray to Barbatos, as you brace yourself to take the hit, that you survive.

The small rockets collide with the ground next to you, the heat of the explosions seering your skin. 

This is fine. 

They missed.

Just have to hurry before it figures out the angle.

If only you had remembered your weapon in your panic to find Bennet. Then you could have taken it out.

But alas, it would seem you’ve escaped the bad luck for too long.

Before you get a grip on the debris again, you feel another barrage of mini missiles collide with your back.

You refuse to scream. But you can’t hold back the groan as you feel your skin melt under the heat, blisters forming along your back.

The sticky sensation of warm blood from where the body of the missiles collided runs down your back.You can barely think. It hurts so much.

But you must get him out of here.

“Hey! Stop! Get out of here! Please! Don’t risk your life for mine, I'm begging you!” Bennet sobs as he watches your face contort in pain above him.

“Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere, and I sure as hell am not dying here. I will get you out of here- I’ll get us both out of here.”

You can’t manage to lift the stones in the time you have between attacks.

You have no choice. You just have to shield him with your body until help arrives.

You position yourself in front of Bennet, bracing yourself for what you know is coming.

Another round strikes you.

Your skin burns. No- it boils.

The heat melts your skin and the molten metal fuses to your flesh.

You can feel your ribs crack and break from the sheer force of the impact.

It’s at this moment you’re glad the machine isn’t closer to you- If it were, the impact of the rockets would surely impale you.

You bite your lip, drawing blood. You refuse to make him feel worse by screaming or crying. But you don’t know how much longer you can hold.

“Please!! STOP!!” Bennet pleaded with you

More missiles. More sticky blood. More broken bones.

“I beg you! Please just run!”

More Missiles. Melted skin.

“You said you’d never leave! I can’t watch you die!”

You manage a smile.

“Exactly. I said I’d never leave. I don’t plan on leaving you here, and I don’t plan on dying.”

More missiles. This time you screamed. Your flesh has been burned to the bone. At least you can’t feel your back anymore; the nerves are all burnt away.

Bennet is no longer forming coherent words, just a mix of sobs and “please” and “this is my fault”

You look down and see you’re standing in a puddle of blood and flesh. The tar like concoction reeks of rotten meat and charred flesh. 

Just as you’re about to think about giving up-

“There they are!” 

The missiles stop, being redirected somewhere else.

The voice in your mind faintly registers the voice of Kaeya along with other knights.

They’re here.

You lasted long enough.

You fall to your knees, heaving air into your burnt lungs.

Bennet was safe. He’d be ok.

“Hey! C’mon You said you wouldn’t leave me! We’re so close, please!” Bennet’s voice is hoarse, and it cracks as he pleads with you once more.

Your vision is foggy and sounds are muffled. The adrenaline has begun to wear off. It hurts.

It hurts.

You barely register being picked up.

You blink.

You blink slow.

And you don’t open your eyes again.

…

At least, not yet they don’t.

[7-ratsinatrenchcoat]

inspiration has struck again at the worst time. I'd like to know, how would your version of Chandler react to Meliodas calling him out for being an abusive fuckhead? Because my brain conjured a speech for Mel and I might write it down and put it in one of the finishing chapters of Through the Wall. I'm writing them out of order anyway. Mel is very much willing to kill Chandler in this situation, but I don't know how that would realistically go down, because Chandler is probably, at least technically, stronger than Meliodas - especially since this is pre-Holy War. And because Mel just disobeyed a direct order from the demon king in order to, hopefully, prevent unnecessary loss of life from the Indura attacks, if you remember that. So an idea on how Meliodas would realistically kill him, or least make him submit to his authority from now on - which is more what I'm going for, since I like to aim for my daydreams to be as canon-compliant to both canon and whatever fanfiction universes I want them to fit into as possible - would be of great assistance.

Thanks for reading and have a lovely day :)

Bonus!! possible excerpts from the speech:

"You were such a horrible example for me that I had no pride as a demon - in the isolation you kept me in, I believed us to be just as disgusting and unworthy of life as the goddesses claimed. You and the demon king gave me no reason to believe better. Your relentless cruelty and deliberate attempts to rob me of my personhood encouraged me to look for the soonest opportunity to end my own life, and I would have soon succeeded in that. At that would have been the best-case scenario. That lack of empathy you taught me might just have likely led me to wipe out half the demon clan so there would be no one to stop me from killing you, and all others I felt should join me in death."

"Everything I've accomplished, I've accomplished in spite of your influence. I don't want to be anything like you. I would rather fuck all four archangels. At once."

"An infant did more good for me than you with all your years of experience."

"I would rather die a horrible death at your hands than allow you to go on and give Zeldoris the same experience without resistance."

"You were the most horrible mentor I could have received. Right now I would be a better demon, and a better prince, if not for the continued cruelty that left me disconnected from my clan, my own mind, and the value of life itself."

"You're also irritating as fuck. Which, according to the morals you taught me - which is none - is a killable offense."

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD

"you're also irritating as fuck" TELL HIM KING

AKJADHFCARELJF I LOVE THIS

okay okay, honestly my Meliodas pre holy war would have a panic attack and cry if he had to look at Chandler again because he's a pathetic little wet cat. but post Holy War Mel couldn't give two shits and will beat a bitch up unprovoked.

To fit it into the daydreams? Have him make a comment at Elizabeth. Something s*xually motivated if you're comfortable with that, and then have Meliodas beat the ever living shit out of him for looking at his girl wrong. Because we love Meliodas but he's horrible about standing up for himself. He's so much stronger fighting for someone else- and if that happens to snowball into voicing his own grievances in a fit of rage, then goddamn, go for it.

I really like that ending line as a way to sum up the interaction. "You are nothing more to me than an irritation" is what it reads as and I'm a sucker for a good execution of the overcoming abuse trope.

[khaire-traveler]

In response to your post (which I really appreciate) I've had two instances where I've had to really determine whether or not what was happening was caused by my gods or not. I knew that the probability of me thinking that my situation, especially with the cancer diagnosis on my dad at the beginning of the month, was caused by me worshipping Set and Anubis, was likely to be false, given the fact that I KNEW that this was fear. It kept reminding me of the Witnesses and how everything that I did would have negative consequences. Then I was reminded of my Christian church where everything bad that happened was either god testing you and bringing you closer to him or that this was punishment for NOT worshipping him.

I considered it very very carefully because I knew that I was scared of the cancer diagnosis with my dad. It was sudden rapid change with the added fear of losing the only person near me who actually understands me. So of course I'm scared and worried because I also love my dad. I got myself to calm down about whether this was any of the gods' doing by reminding myself that this is life and life isn't fair. Cancer exists and it isn't just thrown at people because of the gods.

The idea that the bad things we face is either a test or punishment does come from religious trauma. I find myself wanting to ask fellow pagans if my fears are wrong.

***CW: cancer mentions, cult mentions***

Hey there, friend, thank you for submitting this ask.

I am incredibly sorry for how insanely late this answer is. I wanted to provide you with a good response - something cohesive and well thought-out - but after a time, life just got in my way. I promise it was nothing against you or the thing you said.

That said, I have been in many similar situations. When things go wrong, I think it's easy to associate it with a god we worship, whether that be out of fear, spite, or just wanting a reason behind an event. It's never easy trying to tackle those fears, and it's impressive you were able to remind yourself that bad things just happen sometimes, as horrible as it is. I'm very sorry for what you've gone through.

It's so important for us all to remind ourselves that the gods would not maliciously cause a tragedy or tragic event in our lives. They do not seek us out in the night like starving wolves seeking their prey. We are not worthless or meaningless to them. We have value - as individual people, as humans who discover these gods, as creatures that inhabit the very earth the gods seek to nurture and protect. The way I see it is the gods love us, whatever reasons they may have, and they're much more invested in improving our lives than they are tearing us down.

All of that said, I truly wish the best for you and your dad. I wish you both lots of luck, healing, and good vibes. Please take good care of yourself. I wish nothing but the absolute best for you and the situation you've found yourself in. May your gods be with you, supporting and assisting you every step of the way. Truly, I hope for the best. Take care. 🧡

[spiderfaang]

*rolls up to your house in a convertible with sunglasses* 6, 7, 8, 9, and 13

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

Does crowhare count. I literally cannot fucking stand that ship or its shippers. Though I guess I just hate crowfeather ships in general. Fernivy supporters are also pretty annoying in any ivypool ship discourse. I'm very tempted to put heatherbreeze fans here even though I'm a heatherbreeze fan only bc I do not trust a lot of people to care about heathertail like I do.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

Oh this one is hard for me to answer because most characters I hate, I also hate in canon and also the fandom is insufferable about them. Crowfeather and bramblestar both don't count now. So I'm tempted to saaaaay ivypool or mapleshade. Which sucks bc I do like them!!!! I am a fan of them. But like other ivypool fans for the longest time were the worst. Especially about dovewing. I like ivypool bc of her spite and how she uses a conflict with her sister to literally endanger several cats. But both the authors and the fans think she was right in that action. She is girlfail. To me. Mapleshade for obvious reasons. She is a very well written villain, but she keeps being pushed into stories she had no business being in. Also if you say you're a fan of mapleshade, people automatically group you in with the apologism discourse surrounding her character.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about?

me putting crowfeather on every single answer bc that's how much I hate him. I hate those putting one of the three in windclan aus that make him a good father. He would not be a good father, not even to one of the three. Bramblestar being a good father to any of his kids? Bad as well. Though the authors probably want you to see him as a good father. Also I know you said this earlier but I hesitate to put it on here: transfem nightheart or tree. I hesitate bc I know some people see themselves in these characters and are just projecting. But they literally are just "I hate the women in my life" and also "misandry is REAL" storylines I don't care for. My hot take is that breezepelt being transfem is better bc he has several good relationships with the women in his life lmao. Also, like......I know people hate the idea of kits who die only remain kits forever. But I think if the way starclan cats appear was based on the particular living cats memory or perception of them. Like if it was their mother, of course, they would remember them as a kit! But if it's a different cat that didn't know them? They might appear as an adult. I only like this idea bc of the sadness of a starclan cat appearing before their alive parent and they show up as a kitten, even though they were an adult when they died (trope of a parent will always remember their kid as their little baby).

9. worst part of canon?

I have to choose just one? Only one above all the others? I am answering the overly christian beliefs bleeding into the several writing choices in this series. Because it covers so many facets of things I don't like about the series. Cats are born evil or good, how she-cats are treated, xenophobia, etc.

13. worst blorboficiation?

I'm listing every single male character here out of respect. Uh, other than the reoccurring two worsties on this post (crow and bramble), I'm putting tree here. I've been seeing him on too many best wcs character lists. "He's so complicated and interesting!" Don't lie to me. He is not. Alderheart too. He is so boring. Go boy, give us nothing!!!!! Also controversial opinion: jayfeather. In theory? I like jayfeather. His execution? The longer he lives, the more sick of him I get.