#and then before she began doing the monster hunting on the surface there were some. bad times. while she was trying to figure things out

[galpalaven]

i did cazador's palace yesterday and had to keep getting up to Walk It Off bc of how upset and angry it made me idk how some of y'all are out here writing the things it sounds like you are about Astarion

[persevereforahappyending]

A Beacon in the Dark |7|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: Death, Murder, Fighting, Blood, Shooting, Stabbing

Word Count: 4.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Your eyes were closed as your head was leaned back against the headrest. You had turned the car off as you waited for Joey to be ready. She had given you the location of an apartment complex. She said the mom of one of Caleb’s friends agreed to let them stay the night, that the woman was happy Joey had found a job and was actually working. You were well aware of who’s apartment you were at though, it said enough that Joey would rather leave Caleb with a woman who barely seemed to like her, than with his own father. As much as you wanted to, you wouldn’t press her about it, it was none of your business anyway.

You opened your eyes, turning your head to the right when you heard the passenger door open. You watched Joey hop into the Jeep and instantly begin ringing her hands together. “You don’t have to do this,” you said softly, you should definitely have backup when going siren hunting, but you never wanted Joey to feel like she was obligated to join you.

“It’s fine,” she said. “This is just the first time it’s effected our time together,” she whispered, looking up at the apartment complex. “I don’t want him to think I’m falling back into old habits.”

You nodded. “I can make sure you get back here before school; you can still walk him.”

She shook her head, finally turning to face you for the first time since she got in the car. “No, Mrs. Johnson is going to drop him off when she takes her son. I just need to be there to pick him up.”

“Of course.”

Joey gave you genuine smile and you finally turned the key and pulled away. You still had to run over some things with Grace, make sure Joey knew what she’d be up against, and get to the boat before you could actually face the sirens. You began the drive to Grace’s; it was going by much quicker given how late it was and the lack of traffic. You couldn’t help but admire the scenery as you passed by, the half-moon illuminating the woods perfectly.

“So,” Joey said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Sirens?” You nodded. “They’re like mermaids, right?”

You bobbed your head back and forth. “Sort of,” you said slowly. “They both live in the ocean, they’re both half human half fish, I guess is the best way to describe them. Mermaids are a little more easy going though, they like to keep to themselves and not interact with us surface dwellers,” you chuckled at your own joke. “But sirens, they’re the exact opposite, they pretend to be shy, luring you in with their song only to drag you under.”

“What’s their goal, drowning people?” You turned to her, giving her a questioning look. “I know I don’t have as much experience as you with all this,” she gestured with her hand. “But me and the crew I worked with were setup by a vampire because we had each betrayed her father in some way. Then those succubi, though they seemed to enjoy the killing.” You nodded; they really did seem to take pleasure in it. “They did that to feed, to sustain themselves and survive. So, what’s the goal of a siren? Why do they do what they do?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, she really was picking things up quick. There were times where a monster did just mindlessly kill people, or do it for fun, but most of them time there was a reason for it. Whether the reason was logical was up for debate, sometimes the monster just did it to survive, other times it was a ritual, a rite of passage, or some sort of game. That’s how it was for Grace, based on the way she talked about it, which was rarely, it didn’t seem like the Le Domas family enjoyed the killing, but they had to do it, if they didn’t then they would all die. Of course, they made a deal with a demon so they could become rich, so it was really all their fault to begin with, but that was beside the point.

“Sirens are very territorial,” you said. “They don’t like humans coming into their waters. They also tend to feed on or use them for mating.”

“You’re joking?” You glanced at Joey to see her looking at you, as if she was expecting you to say you were joking and laugh it off. You just shook your head and watched as Joey’s face morphed into one of horror. “If they hate humans, why mate with them?”

“So, they can keep their population growing. There are no male sirens, which is why in all the stories they’re luring men to their deaths. They use men to procreate.” You didn’t realize you were at the mansion until you were turning down Grace’s driveway. “Then they kill them. They only leave them alive long enough to get what they want.”

You parked and ran around the side of the car to open Joeys door for her. You offered her a smile, but she just rolled her eyes, though you were pretty sure it was more of a playful eye roll than an annoyed one, you considered that progress. You led her to the front door and opened it with a small bow. She just pushed past you and began making the now familiar way towards Grace’s office. She could ignore you and deny it all she wanted but you didn’t miss the way Joey’s lips twitched slightly up.

“So, what are the odds they try and kill us?” Joey asked as you pushed open the door to Grace’s office.

“High,” Grace answered before you could even open your mouth. “Very high.”

You rested a hand on Joey’s shoulder as she came to a stop directly in front of you. “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” you whispered.

She glanced at you. You could see the way her eyes darted around, searching for any reason not to believe you. You wouldn’t give her a reason though, you didn’t care how dangerous sirens were you would make sure Joey made it back home, even if she was the only one to do so, you refused to let her son grow up without her.

When you looked back up at Grace she was giving you a knowing look. You shifted your eyes to the rest of the room. Grace could think whatever she wanted; you didn’t care if she assumed you were protective due to your developing feelings. Grace was only partially right in that regard anyway, you might not have ever met Caleb, but you knew he deserved to not have his mom around, he deserved to get to know her.

“We need to make this quick,” Grace said, moving through her office. “You need to get there and out on the water as soon as possible.”

You glanced around the room while Joey followed Grace. Grace was giving her a quick run down of sirens and what to expect while gathering her supplies. You noticed since the last time you had been in the office there were more papers scattered about. The growing stack of papers on the victim’s pile did nothing to ease your worries. You were confident in saying Joey would make it back alive but if you were looking at things realistically it wouldn’t be good, you would be on the water at night, no one besides Grace knowing where you were going, and you’d be going to face with you didn’t even know how many sirens.

“These,” Grace said, holding up a little black box. “Are the most important.”

Joey took the box from her with a furrowed brow and flipped the lid open. “Ear plugs?” she questioned.

“Made of wax.” Grace continued to dig around her desk for what else she was looking for.

“Just like in the Odyssey,” you added. Joey’s head snapped to you, you couldn’t help but smirk and give a little shrug at her impressed look.

“Put them in as soon as you get out on the water,” Grace continued, ignoring your comment. “They’re the only thing that will keep you from falling under the sirens spell.”

“Got it,” Joey nodded and put the box in her jacket pocket.

“For the captain,” Grace handed you an envelope. You shoved it in your jacket pocket as well, tucking it away without looking at it. You didn’t need to look at it, you could tell by the weight that Grace was paying him a substantial amount.

“How do we kill these things?” You and Grace gave each other a look as Joey looked between the two of you.

“They’re only mortal,” Grace said softly. “It doesn’t take anything special to kill them but-”

“The key is hitting them,” you finished for her. “They hide under the water, under the cover of night, and if you hear their song,” you shook your head. “You might as well be lost already.”

“So, we’ll have actual weapons this time?” Joey asked. You couldn’t blame her, both of you had been caught off guard by the succubi. You had gotten lucky that the party had been thrown in an old mansion with weapons strewn throughout the place.

“Yes,” Grace assured, resting a comforting hand on Joey’s shoulder. “I already have a bag made up,” she nodded at you. “It’s in the weapons room.”

You nodded and walked off to grab the bag. As soon as you got to the weapons room you saw the black duffle bag sitting on the table. You unzipped it a little to get a sneak peak as to what Grace picked out for you. You couldn’t help but smirk when you saw the silver tip of a spear. Guns were fun, they were easier to aim but they weren’t your first choice of weapon when going after a siren, part of you was silently hoping the boat would have a harpoon on it.

Before zipping the bag back up you caught the glint of a small explosive charge. You sucked in a breath, Grace had really thought of everything, not that you were surprised. When you knew what you were dealing with Grace was always prepared. Grace would have the basics laid out for you while also preparing for the worst. There had been one too many times when the two of you would go off on a mission thinking you were dealing with a lone vampire or something only to be led back to an entire den. It was always better to be overprepared in Grace’s eyes and you weren’t one to complain, her methods were what had kept you alive this long.

You finished zipping up the bag then swung it over your shoulder and made your way back to the front door. As you approached the foyer you saw Joey and Grace already there. You opened the front door, allowing Joey to go first.

Before you could follow though Grace rested a hand on your arm, making you turn to face her. She pulled you into a hug and you instantly wrapped your free arm around her like you had done many times. “Before careful,” she whispered.

“Always,” you whispered back. You could feel Grace suppress a sigh, but she didn’t say whatever she clearly wanted to.

You made your way out of the mansion and towards your car. You gave a thankful smile as Joey opened the trunk, allowing you to toss the duffle bag of weapons in the back. You gave Grace one last wave goodbye as you and Joey hopped back in the car. You tapped your phone, seeing Grace had already sent the location to you.

You groaned when you saw it was almost an hour drive away, it was no wonder Grace was rushing around. You guys needed to get out on the water before sunrise if you had any hope of finding the sirens. You turned the volume of the radio down low enough that you could talk to Joey if she wanted but it was loud enough to hear so you weren’t sitting in complete silence.

After leaving the mansion and a few turns you were finally on the main road, and it was mostly a straight shot until you got closer. “So, what do you know about sirens?” Joey asked. “You and Grace don’t seem to be messing around with this one.”

“Grace never messes around when it comes to a job,” you replied.

“You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes. “She seemed more intense with this one.” You felt Joey’s gaze on you, but you kept your eyes on the road. “So do you.”

“We’ve known each other less than a month and you think you know me?” You joked, lightly chuckling to make sure Joey knew you weren’t serious.

“I’m good at reading people.” You could practically hear Joey smirking. “You can’t be serious,” she admitted. “When you want to be.” You smiled to yourself. “But this is different.”

You sighed and let one of your hands fall off the steering wheel as you got more relaxed. “This isn’t our first time dealing with sirens as you’ve probably gathered.” Joey nodded. “We were so in over our heads that first time,” you shook your head at the memory. “We got lucky it was only a handful. It didn’t matter what we did, people just kept dying.” You cleared your throat when you realized you were getting emotional. You didn’t think about it often but when you did, images of the carnage left behind played through your mind on repeat. “Our mistakes then, is what made it so we could be prepared today.”

Joey didn’t say anything at first, she just nodded. You had been on a boat filled with people, just you, Grace, and the crew, but it had been a big crew. People were picked off left and right, people flung themselves off the side of the boat, only to be yanked down under the water, never to resurface. You hadn’t known what you were dealing with at the time, you almost lost Grace, you almost lost yourself, it wasn’t until you found a way to plug your ears that you finally were able to fight back. Despite how hard you tried, you and Grace were the only ones to walk away that day, the boat sank, and a couple days later the coast guard found you. It was one of the only times neither of you had to come up with a story, just a boating accident with no survivors.

“And I assume they don’t just go after men?” Joey asked, breaking the silence again.

You shook your head. “That’s just the stories,” you said. “Most sailors are men; it makes sense why that myth got started. Men are more useful for them.” Joey nodded, probably remembering what you had told her about sirens needing men to reproduce. “They have nothing against going after women though, there’s no ulterior motive for keeping them alive, so,” you shook your head as you stared at the dark road ahead of you. “You’d be lucky if you drown before they start ripping you apart.”

You drove in silence the rest of the way. You wouldn’t call it uncomfortable, just that there was a more somber mood throughout the rest of the drive. You didn’t want to scare Joey by any means, but she needed to know what she was getting into. When you got there it would just be you, her, and the captain, she needed to know what to expect. You were going to do everything in your power to protect her, but anything could go wrong.

Before you knew it you were pulling into a parking space near the docks. You looked out the windshield, there was absolutely no life to be seen, except for the one boat with lights on. “Guess that’s our ride,” you mumbled.

You and Joey both got out of the car and went around back to grab the duffle bag. You led the way down the dock and towards the boat. The captain was waiting in front of the boat as the two of you approached. “Got the rest of my money?” he asked in greeting.

You had to contain your eyeroll and remind yourself he was doing you a favor, even if it was just for money. You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the envelope, opening it just enough for him to see the cash inside. The captain stepped forward, but you tucked the envelope back into your jacket. “When we’re on the water,” you said, your voice leaving no room for argument.

The captain grumbled something as he turned around to board the boat. You waited a second before he got up on the deck and gestured for you to follow. You looked back at Joey who raised her eyebrows and walked past you to climb aboard. You jumped onto the boat and handed the duffle bag up to Joey so you could climb up the rest of the way.

Once the boat was untied and the anchor raised the captain set sail. You and Joey moved to the front of the boat, dropping the duffle on one of the boxes close by, and occasionally glancing at your own GPS to make sure the captain was headed to the right area. You were at least half an hour out from the place you suspected the sirens to be, but you kept your eyes peeled anyway, making sure to follow the light from the ship as it swung around.

You glanced at the GPS again to see you were almost there. You furrowed your brow when a sizeable rock formation appeared. “What?” Joey asked.

“Seems there’s rocks or an island of some sort,” you answered.

“Is that bad?”

You clenched the GPS just a bit tighter. “Possibly.”

“Why?”

You looked back up, scanning the water, you could just make out the outline of the rocks. “We should put in the ear plugs,” is all you said.

Joey gave you a look but pulled out the little box, flipping the lid open for you. You grabbed a pair and popped them in your ears, everything instantly becoming muffled. You looked over to see Joey doing the same. The two of you wouldn’t be able to talk well unless you were close and yelling at each other, but it was better safe than sorry.

Your head snapped to the side when you saw something making a splash. You leaned over the railing and stared down into the water, seeing nothing but darkness. You leaned back, about to turn and call to Joey when something shot out of the water and slammed into you.

You slid across the deck until you slammed into a metal bin. When you opened your eyes, they instantly went wide and your hands shot out, holding the siren back. She had long black hair, her eyes were a milky grey and her skin pale grey, she snapped her razor sharp teeth at your neck. You could feel her tail flopping around as you held her off.

The next thing you knew, a gun fired, and blood splattered across your face. You tossed the body off you, seeing she had been shot through the neck. You looked over to see Joey still holding the gun out.

Your eyes widened as you saw another one jump out of the water, aiming directly for Joey. Joey whipped around, firing three in the chest. She stepped back, letting the body land at her feet.

You scrambled to your feet and rushed to the duffle, ripping it all the way open and pulling out a spear gun. You got the gun loaded as you ran to the edge of the boat, whipping it around as you scanned the water for another one. As soon as one popped her head out of the water you fired, sending the spear right through her heart.

When you looked up you saw several pairs of eyes shining in the light as it passed by. “Fuck,” you whispered.

You ran back to the duffle and started loading up on all the explosives and grabbed another spear to reload. Just as you turned around you saw another siren jump out of the water and knock Joey overboard. “No!” you didn’t hesitate to rush across the deck and dive over the railing and into the water.

Your eyes landed on Joey being dragged deeper and you loaded the spear in the gun. You continued to swim after them as you took aim, sending the spear sailing right past Joey and into the eye of the siren. When Joey broke free of the sirens gripped, she swam to you, and you helped her back to the surface.

She began whipping her head around as the two of you tried to keep your heads above the waves. You looked at her questioningly then you saw her raise a hand to her ear.

You instantly took out your ear plug. “What are you doing?” Joey snapped, making sure your hand stayed closed around them.

“Take mine,” you said. Joey shook her head. “Now,” you ordered, leaving no room for argument.

“What are you going to do?” she asked as she popped one ear plug in.

You looked to the side as your mind started to be flooded with a sweet hum. “It’s mating season,” you said, trying to shake your mind clear. Joey raised a questioning brow at you. “Get back on the boat, hold them off as best as you can, I need to blow the nest.”

“Be careful,” Joey said as she popped the other ear plug in.

You nodded and swam towards the rocks. You should have known the spike in deaths was because of mating season. You really wished you could get in contact with Grace. During mating season, a pack of sirens gathered and lured multiple victims to their doom. You had never faced one directly, only read about them or found abandoned ones. If you blew up the nest though, you’d prevent any sirens coming back in future years.

You felt something grab your ankle and yank you under the waves. You kicked and thrashed around, trying to break free of its grip. You finally felt it release you but then next thing you knew it was in front of you. All your thrashing around suddenly stopped, and you just floated there, staring at the gorgeous woman in front of you.

She reached out and ran her hand across the back of your neck, sending a chill down your spine. You didn’t fight as she pulled you forward by the back of the neck, leading you deeper into the water. You closed your eyes, and your mind was flooded with the most beautiful song.

When you opened your eyes again you were met with the gorgeous woman, but you couldn’t help the way your mind drifted back to Joey. You reached out to touch the woman’s face, watching her smile as you caressed her cheek. You guided your hands down as she leaned forward; you leaned in as well. Right before your lips touched you gave a quick twist of your hands, snapping her neck.

You blinked rapidly, trying to come back to yourself. You looked down to no longer see a beautiful woman but a siren, her head nearly twisted all the way around. You looked around, smiling as you realized you were in a cave, the siren brought you directly into the nest.

You got to work, quickly placing the charges underwater and on the little bit of land in the cave. You were in the middle of placing the last charge when something jumped on your back, digging it’s claws into your shoulder and pulling you back under water. You thrashed around in its grasp, forcing it to redirect as it tried to drown you. It didn’t let you go until you hit the bottom of the cave.

You reached down and grabbed the knife you always had strapped to your ankle. You whipped around, slashing the knife at the siren only to meet water. The siren shot forward, grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming you into the ground again. You brought the knife up, stabbing the siren on the side of her tail. She instantly released you with a shriek. While she was distracted you brought the knife down onto her fin, impaling the knife through her and into the cave floor.

She thrashed around, shrieking in pain. You smiled as you swam back. She let out another shriek, it was only a matter of time before the others came. You swam back out of the cave, barely escaping it as three more sirens came darting past you. You were almost clear of the blast range when a siren came from the dark depths, ripping into your leg and dragging you down.

You groaned as you fumbled for the detonator and pressed the button. A second later there was an explosion, sending dirt and debris towards you and the siren. You pushed the siren off you, watching as she was crushed by tumbling rocks. You swam through the murky water, your head finally breaking through the waves.

You swam back to the boat and Joey was there to help pull you back aboard. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “You’re hurt,” she began feeling around your shoulder where the siren had dug her claws into you.

“It’s fine,” you waved her off.

“Let me look at it.”

“It’s-It’s not as bad as it looks.” You rested a hand on hers, getting her to pause her movements. “Please,” you stared into her eyes, silently pleading with her to drop it. She reluctantly nodded.

Joey got you back up to the deck and went to tell the captain to head home and hand him the rest of his money as well. You remained on the deck, wrapped in a towel as you tried to dry off. You peeled back your shirt, getting a glance at the claw marks to see the bleeding had already stopped. You let out a shaky breath and quickly covered the wounds again when Joey came back outside.

The boat ride back was silent, even with you and Joey sitting side by side. Joey would occasionally get up and grab you a dry towel to wrap yourself in. You appreciated the gesture and were mostly dry by the time the boat docked again. You attempted to thank the captain, but he just yelled at you and Joey to get off his ship. He hadn’t left the wheel so you weren’t sure how much he saw but you were confident he wouldn’t say anything about you, the sirens, or the explosion he most likely witnessed.

When you got back to your car you tossed the weapons bag in the back and then slid behind the wheel. As soon as you started the car you let out a scoff, it was almost four in the morning. You started the drive back home in silence, Joey resting her head against the window the entire time, you weren’t sure if she had fallen asleep or what. It had been a long night, you couldn’t blame her if she did fall asleep, she earned it.

It was nearly five when you pulled up outside Joey’s apartment. You looked over to see her still with her head against the window. You couldn’t help but smile as you rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light rub to wake her up. “Hey,” you whispered.

She let out a hum as she slowly came to. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she looked around. “You got just enough time to get some sleep before you got to pick up your kid,” you whispered.

Joey looked at you, resting her head on the back of the seat. “Thank you,” she whispered.

You gave her a nod and watched as she slipped out of the car. “Make sure you get that looked at,” she added, nodding to your shoulder. “Since you won’t let me do it.”

You chuckled but nodded anyway. “Always a doctor,” you mumbled. She gave you a pointed look before turning and heading to her building. You watched and waited until you knew she was safely in her apartment complex. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the sleepiness as you pulled out onto the street to begin making your way back to Graces.

Taglist: @thinking1bee @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @alexkolax @pianogirl2121 @thatshyboy1998 @chxrry-lov3

[humongouspeachinternet]

Little siren part 3!

Tw: a little blood! Maybe some mild violence?

With news of her existence swarming the city you live in after your harrowing rescue from the water, the little siren lays at the bottom of the pond, unmoving even as playful fish tried to nudge her to get her up. It had been days and days of endless voices overlapping each other on the shore of her pond, chattering away about some ‘monster’ lurking in the depths of the water.

Was she really a monster? Words hurt, you know!

Knowing that she was more than likely never going to see you again, she didn’t really feel that there was a point to doing much nowadays. Sure, shiny things were being dropped into her pond on a daily basis now, wriggling worms typically hooked to the end of them, but what was the point of collecting them if she had no one to give them to?

Wiping at her eyes, golden tears dissipate into the water around her, wondering what she’d do with herself now. It took a while, but eventually, the shiny objects began to disappear as the sun began to set, fishermen hoping to catch the creature packing up for the day. The reporters had left hours ago and also had most of the nosy locals if the lack of voices was anything to go by. Looking up toward the surface, a quiet whine slips from her, unsure if anything would ever feel the same again now that your glowing presence was missing from her pond.

It would take you weeks to regain the courage to go anywhere near the pond after nearly meeting your maker in a freak accident. The creature from before was most definitely real, having been given an incredibly dramatic retelling by your friend who helped get you home afterwards.

It was a blue creature covered in luminous scales with eyes that resembled huge black marbles and sharp teeth that looked as if they could rip a small canoe in half if the thing wanted to. It had a long bifurcated tail, so it obviously wasn’t human, but it was nearly as long as you were tall. Not a fish, not a human, but a strange transition between the two.

As scary as the description may have sounded… why would such a nightmarish-sounding creature save you instead of pulling you to your watery demise? It had to be the same creature that you’d startled away before, right? And to think the poor thing was threatened with a rock for pulling you from the water?

After lightly scolding your friend for her threats against your savior a few weeks later and sending her home, you couldn’t get your mind off of the little siren. Sure, she’d been a little bit frightening, but she surely didn’t mean to scare you.

Should you perhaps go and try to apologize to it? Bring it something as a token of your appreciation? You halfway remembered it crying in relief as it brought you ashore and saw you breathing, surely you could spare something as a gift for it caring so much.

By the time you made up your mind, the sun was already beginning to set, but your pace was leisurely, trying not to draw any extra attention to the little pond. It had been plastered all over the news as of late, rewards being put up for catching the blue, blurry creature that someone had hastily snapped a picture of during your rescue. It seemed cruel to hunt something that was just trying to help.

Clutching a little paper box in your hands, you hoped that the creature liked sourdough and turkey, figuring that bringing it a bit of food may ease its mind a little. With all the attention and fishing going on, it must have been hard for it to catch anything for itself the last few weeks. Guilt churned your stomach at the thought. This poor thing, could you-

You wouldn’t get to finish your thought, however, as a shrill shriek filled the shadows of the little park surrounding the pond. It was incredibly high-pitched and squeaky, sounding nothing like a human cry, but then again… there could be an awful explanation for that.

Unfortunately, while she was trying her best to ignore the lonely life she led, the little siren had somehow gotten hooked by the last fisherman of the day. His hook had been trawling the waters and just so happened to catch onto her gills. She thought nothing of the feeling at first, figuring that it was just another fish trying to unearth her from the sand on the bottom of the pond, having not moved in about a week or so. As the tugging grew harder, however, and began pulling her up towards the surface rather quickly, she knew that something was wrong.

With how the past couple of weeks had been going, she almost decided to let herself get dragged up to the surface, but found that she’d rather not become someone’s meal, pulling back against the line. However, the week or so of little to no food had done quite a number on her strength, the siren cursing herself for letting it get this bad as the strong fisherman continued the fight. With the hook lodged firmly in her gills, the pain wasn’t helping her to fight at all either, fighting a losing battle it seemed.

Eventually, the fisherman won, reeling her up to the surface just for her to hang painfully by her gills over the water for a few moments, causing the pained shriek that you’d heard. Gravity really wasn’t her friend in this moment, her body wriggling one way but her gills being pulled the opposite way, blue blood seeping out from around the hook as the man began to pull her to the shore.

You had broken into a sprint towards the pond upon hearing the cry, the sandwich being tossed around quite viciously in its box as you ran to find the creature. Had someone else found it before you? Was it hurt? A cold rush overtook you at the thought of your savior in pain, chopped up for some measly reward money. Was the cash really worth killing an innocent creature?

You’d soon stumble upon the dock where this whole mess started, but find that the pained whimpers were coming from a little further in the brush to your right. It definitely sounded like the creature, but a man’s triumphant laugh echoed out after the noises.

You quietly made your way closer to the sources of the noise, soon finding a tall man with a weighed down fishing pole. On the end of it was the creature from before, now much skinnier and weaker than you remember. You were very much right to bring food it seemed. The man had tugged it… or rather, her, onto the sand, ignoring the way she panted for breath, her gills straining from the lack of water. Pulling out his phone instead, he stood over her, nudging her a little with his boot as he spoke to someone excitedly, very much wanting the prize money he was promised for such a catch. You watched the man kneel down beside the creature, your blood boiling as he tugged on the hook in her neck just to make her cry out again as if she wasn’t already suffering enough.

The man’s mistake, however, came as he stood laughing and turned to go pack up, leaving the backs of his ankles just in reach of a certain fanged creature who wasn’t done quite yet. Within a moment, the man was on the ground, confused for a second before a searing pain shot up both of his legs. You gasp as you watch it all unfold, his Achilles’ tendons easily taken out by the scrawny little creature before she digs her talons into the sand to crawl up and remove a more vital part of him. You turn away and cover your ears as best you can to avoid seeing and hearing what violence she was capable of, but when the muffled noises die down, you find yourself peeking back to see if she was alright.

Covered in her blood and the blood of another, the little siren collapses on the sand a few feet away from the unmoving fisherman, safe but unable to breathe and too weak to pull herself back into the water. What a horrible way to go, she thought, whimpering with her head against the sand. Gold tears pooled in the sand beneath her head, wishing that she’d gotten to see you at least one more time.

Oh.

Wait.

What was that noise?

Sand crunched under quiet feet, trying your best to avoid getting any of the bloody mess on your clothes. The sound alerted her to a presence beside her, but she could hardly pick her head up to see who it was, instead giving a weak warning hiss to try and ward away any more hunters. Surely the blood would deter anyone else from messing with her, right? But as worn out sneakers and faded jeans filled her vision, gentle hands moving to remove the hook from her gills as carefully as possible, she couldn’t find it in her to hiss again, too tired to fight off anyone else. It wasn’t until you began whispering quiet reassurances to her that she recognized just who had come to her aid, quickly pushing herself up in a daze to look at you before falling back into the sand with a whimper.

You came back? For her? Why? You can’t swim, you shouldn’t be anywhere around here, she thought, her hazy brain focusing more on your well-being than her own as she began to close her eyes. The lack of water and the exertion of taking down the man had done her in, her limbs heavy and her head heavier, almost too heavy to feel that she was being pulled back into the water. It wasn’t easy, she was still rather heavy, but with how much weight she’d lost from her weeks of not eating, you were able to slowly get her into the water. You waded in with her until you were about thigh deep, holding her just under the water and waiting on bated breath for her to start coming back to you.

Were you too late? You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you waited for what felt like an eternity for her gills to start moving again, letting out a relieved sigh when a little bit of her color began to return to her face. Was she still bleeding? Yes, but was she at least able to breathe again? Also yes!

The little siren would wake with a start moments later, gasping under the water and immediately meeting your worried eyes, confusion setting in rather quickly. You shouldn’t be in the water, you’ll drown! However… your hands cradling her head were almost enough to distract her from her concern, still as dizzy as can be from the drama of it all. All that would meet your ears was a muffled whimper of worry, black eyes looking up to you and pleading with you to get out of the water. If you didn’t drown, you’d certainly catch a cold… or get that vile man’s blood on you.

Looking down at her, you carefully smoothed a hand over her face, hoping to relax her a bit in the wake of such a scary encounter. The poor thing, what if this happened again and you weren’t around to help the next time? Smoothing her floating hair from her face, you can’t help but worry for her safety in this little pond. People would find out what she’d done and it would be a witch-hunt until they found her, a thought you could hardly bear.

And that, my friends, is how you ended up with a siren living in your bathtub. A guest needs to use the bathroom in your apartment? Sorry! It’s broken (a.k.a occupied by your darling little siren girlfriend)! Landlords were such an easy scapegoat sometimes. It took some getting used to, sleeping on the cold tile beside the tub to be near her, but you found a way to make it comfortable after a while! Now, she was safe and sound, well-fed and taken care of with no worries of hunters coming near her ever again, and you gained a loving companion for life!

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 17

Welp. We are in the home stretch. I’m almost done writing the last chapter and then there will be a small epilogue. Thank you so much for sharing this ride with me on this one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

*

Edie isn’t exactly sure when it started happening, but she began to notice little changes in her dad’s eating habits. Some times he would go for seconds if he liked it or he would keep some kind of fruit on hand to snack on.

But knowing her dad’s past also helped her notice when he would get that thousand yard stare or when he would jump at certain sounds. Knowing that he had walked through hell, not just once, but multiple times was like slotting in a piece of the puzzle you didn’t know was missing. And just watching all the other pieces that didn’t make sense before form a complete picture.

She knew that they had told her was only scratching the surface. Things they weren’t directly involved in but didn’t want to know. After she was told about their past Mr Munson gave her permission to dig into the incident surrounding the actual fucking lynch mob that was led by a psychotic basketball star.

What made her the angriest was that the asshole died in the earthquake and never had to deal with the consequences of his actions. That the town took that as liberty to just sweep it under the rug. The police chief quietly resigned two years later. No one that was involved in the witch hunt was actually punished for what they did to Mr Munson.

So she decided she was going to make a long distance phone call. A very long distance phone call.

“Miss Thing!” Lily Byers greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe this totally awesome pleasure?”

“Cousin Itt!” Edie greeted back. “How’s it rocking, girlie?”

“You know,” Lily said, “as much as I love traveling the world, I got soo super jelly of your prom pictures. I’m trying to convince Mom to let spend the last year of high school with you.”

“Just say the word, Cousin Itt,” Edie said seriously, “I will deploy the puppy dog eyes.”

Lily laughed. “I’m not quite that desperate. Yet.”

“Duly noted,” Edie said. “Hey, I need a favor. But first how much do you know about your parents’ high school days?”

“You talking normal angst filled love triangles?” Lily ask slowly. “Or are we talking about nightmare fuel?”

“Nightmare fuel.”

Lily let out a slow breath. “I got ‘read in’ last year.” Edie could feel the air quotes from here. “I’m guessing you’re new to the ‘my parents are fucked up’ club?”

“About a month I guess,” Edie said with a sigh. “Me and Harri Munson. They tell you about what happened to his dad? Eddie Munson? Not the monster shit, but the normies fucking shit up stuff?”

Lily let out another long sigh. “Yeah. The witch hunt of the century.”

“Can you please explain why your mother and father didn’t expose the fucking town the way they did the Lab?” Edie asked pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“That is a really good question, Miss Thing,” Lily said. “And I think you just gave me new leverage against my parents over the whole high school senior year dealio. I’ll get back to you.”

“Love you lots!” Edie said.

“Love you more!” Lily replied and then hung up.

“You know,” a voice said from behind her, “that’s a pretty low blow, weaponizing your cousin that way.”

Edie whirled around to see her dad leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom. His arms were crossed over his chest, but he had an easy smile on his face.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop,” she said glaring at him.

“I just came to ask if you wanted pizza or kebabs tonight,” he said, his smile turning into a grin. “I did knock. A couple times in fact. But you were the one plotting world takeover with your bedroom door open.”

Edie flopped on her bed. “Is that one of the reasons we rarely get together, because we’d take over the world?”

Steve laughed. “One of many. One of many.”

Edie grinned. “I’m just correcting a miscarriage of justice is all.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked grinning back at her. “Knowing Lily Byers like I do, I fully expect an expose by the end of the week and formal apology from the city of Hawkins and the state of Indiana to Eddie by the end of the month.”

Edie pretended to toss non-existent long hair over her shoulder. “Good.”

Steve pulled her in for a hug. “I think the reason she didn’t is because of me.”

Edie pulled away slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I think she didn’t want to stir up feelings for Eddie after he left.”

“But he left three months after,” Edie insisted. “Why didn’t she say something then?”

“Our town was nearly destroyed,” Steve reminded her. “And the government had found a scapegoat in Henry Creel, got Eddie off and all this while Eddie was still in a coma from being nearly ripped to bits. She had a lot on her mind those first three months. We all did. And then he got a record deal, he was going to be famous. She probably didn’t want to make waves for him and ruin his chances.”

“Damn it,” she sighed. “Those are all really good reason not blow up the biggest scandal since the ‘gas leak’.”

“So maybe tell Lily to ease up a bit on her mom?” Steve asked.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell, Dad.”

Steve sighed. He figured that was the answer, but felt he had to try. At least a little.

*

School was ending and Edie and Harri both had summer school. Mandy and Kenny were free, but then they were good in school and mostly liked by the teachers.

Their rich school was a bit backwards. Probably because it had only been built in the last decade, but Mr Pearson wasn’t the only teacher that turned their noses up at old money students like Edie. She had the misfortune to be old money, too. Her family’s wealth went back as far a century at least.

She wasn’t third or even fourth generation wealthy. Her great-great grandparents were stinking rich. They were among the few families to come out of the stock market crash and Great Depression relatively unscathed. It’s why Dad’s trust fund was so sought after.

A trust fund that only grew because he may not have had a head for numbers, he had a head for business. He knew when to pull out if something was failing and when to pour more money in if they looked on the verge of discovery.

But it meant that all the teachers thought that her dad didn’t earn having his daughter at their school. So they always went a lot harder on Edie then they did her friends. All three of which had parents that came from nothing or very little to make their wealth. Mandy and Harri were both children of rock stars. Kenny’s mom invented some kitchen gadget that had taken the world by storm and now was in nearly every house in the country.

Harri was only joining her in summer school hell because two of the credits he needed to graduation next year didn’t transfer over and he had zero desire to sit with sophomores and juniors his last year of school.

“They should standardize the curriculum across the country,” Harri grumbled, kicking at a rock on their way into school.

Edie sighed. She agreed with him, but if they had she wouldn’t have a summer school buddy to be miserable with.

“I hear that,” was what she said instead. “And you should be allowed to skip a class if you don’t want to take it. As long as you get two years of math, who cares if it’s just basic math. It’s like judging a fish by its ability to climb or however that quote goes.”

“Right?” Harri agreed. “Like if what you want to go into takes heavy math that sure, you do the advanced math, but if you’re going into art and the only math you’re going to need is fractions they shouldn’t have to force you into bullshit like that.”

They both had to take a math class and a science class, so they took the same ones so that they could at least have a study buddy.

“I hate that I have to do this,” Edie groused as she flopped down in a desk somewhere near the back of the class. “It means I can’t go to the gala this year.”

“Gala?” Harri asked, sliding into the desk next to hers. “What gala?”

“The biggest event my dad does all year,” she explained, resting her head on her hands and staring off into the distance dreamily. “He’s involved in a shit ton of charities, but this is his biggest. It’s like the it party of the year and everyone foams at the mouth for an invite.”

“So why can’t you go?” Harri asked.

“Because for everyone else it’s a one night event,” Edie said, “but for my dad it’s a week long thing just prepping for it. And because I have summer school, I can’t help him. His rule has always been that I’ve been too young and that was supposed to change this year. I was going to help out and get to go. But because I have this stupid shit, I have to spend the week at Mandy’s.”

“You’re nearly eighteen,” Harri protested. “Can’t you be left home alone?”

Edie sighed. “If it was about Dad being gone all the time, sure. But it’s not. It’s held at the house. Or rather the backyard. There are people coming and going all hours of the day and night. Setting up lights, preparing food, setting up tables. It’s a whole thing. And if I want to actually pass these classes...”

Harri winced. “You can’t be around all that shit...Point well and truly taken. So what are you going to do instead?”

Edie shrugged. “Normally Mr Lawrence lets Mandy have a party that night and we stay up late watching movies, but I think the Lawrences are going this year, so I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Harri opened his mouth to ask another question, but the teacher chose that moment to walk in and they were forced to pay attention to the class.

***

Part 18 Epilogue

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall @stxrcrossed186

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 21: Did my back hurt your knife?

Chapter title is lyrics from "R.i.p"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Her smile

Filled with sharp teeth, ready to bite

Nails digging into my scalp, pushing me down

Keeping me beneath the surface as I gasp, as I drown

The last of my breath leaving my lungs

Dancing and weaving through the water above

The surface; it twists and it bends

Warping the monster that fucks with my head

I thrash and I fight, but it’s never enough; I am but a pawn in her story

My monarch, my goddess, my puppet master in all of her glory

Should I let her win, should I simply give in – let the peace of death consume me?

Hair red as flame, eyes black as tar

In hell, we shall meet again my dear friend

I awoke with a gasp, momentarily confused.

It didn’t take long for my mind to catch up with reality; for me to realise it had only been another nightmare. My heart on the other hand still hadn’t gotten the messaging – thumping with the heavy beat of fear, of survival.

Letting out a long breath, I relaxed back into my pillow.

Same old, same old.

Tensing, my brows furrowed.

Actually, no, not same old; this particular dream had been about Fay – someone I hadn’t dreamt about since I met Alice. In fact, the nightmares about Fay had come to a screeching halt the very same day Alice joined the tour. For about a week after, my dreams had been quite palatable – pleasant even. All about Alice, of course, but it didn’t take long until they descended back into madness; until Alice was haunting me – hunting me – every night, coming up with new and exciting ways to impale, shred, or incinerate me.

Looking over at the beautiful woman beside me I felt quite sad she was no longer in my arms. At some point she must have rolled over in her sleep, rolled away from me.

I sighed.

No, my mind had never been kind to me, and it was hard to tell if it was crueller at night or during the waking hours. Because while the nightmares were gruesome and violent, at least they didn’t play tricks on me – feed my insecurities, or expect me to stay sober while my thoughts eat me alive.

Or expect me to not act on all my impulses. 

Like punching Mat square in his fucking face for putting his lips on my Alice.

Yet, I would never actually do that, knowing full well it’s my own fault they’re dating.

Reaching over to the bedside table, I grabbed my phone; it was only around midnight, meaning I couldn't have slept for very long after we drifted off – after telling Alice about mine and Mat’s history, and about me and Fay. Which would explain her sudden and unwelcome appearance in my dreams.

My mind began racing, feeling torn. I wanted to wrap my arms around Alice and simply enjoy her company for the remainder of the night, but I was all too aware of the fact that Mat would still be awake at this hour – knowing I really do need to talk to him.

Before I knew it my legs were moving, pushing themselves into some sweatpants. 

After slipping a random shirt over my head I was out the door, staring at the polished brass numbers on Mat’s door, feeling suddenly nervous. 15 they read – a completely arbitrary number, but I could see my eyes in the reflection of them, staring back at me, causing disgust to build in my chest; disgust over the reasons I needed to talk to Mat at all; disgust over proudly flaunting that I’d fucked the girl first this time.

But mainly I felt disgust over how poorly I was handling my emotions, particularly in regards to how jealous I was – how selfish I was – when it came to Alice. 

Yes, I know she’s not mine, still I can’t seem to help myself – can’t seem to stop acting like some feral animal, pissing all over their territory.

Shaking myself mentally, I let my fist connect with the rich wood of the door.

It didn’t take long before it swung open with a robed Mat appearing behind it, the scent of alcohol thick in the air.

He squinted at me, clearly confused. Or maybe even unhappy to see me.

“Can I come in?”

Wordlessly, he stepped to the side, gesturing for me to join him in the dimly lit room.

Shutting the door, he stalked over and sat down on the floor next to the bed, leaning against the mattress in order to stare out into the night through the floor to ceiling windows in front of him. 

He also had a view of the lake, his room only a couple of doors over from mine.

I decided to join him on the floor, noticing the half empty whiskey bottle next to him along with a couple of snack containers.

To my surprise he spoke as soon as I’d gotten comfortable, before I had a chance to.

“I should’ve been more apprehensive about asking her out, or even cancelled earlier today as soon as you told me you were going out with her. But the truth is I think I got a crush on her a while back, and now I hate how much I want to spend more time with her.”

A heavy feeling settled in me, weighing me down. Faint whispers of self hatred brushing against my ear, trying to convince me everyone’s better off without me.

His gaze flickered to mine, “Don’t worry, I won’t. Not now, not after you’ve slept with her.”

I felt myself start to chuckle at his statement, “Since when has that stopped you?”

“You know when.” He muttered, before taking a swig off of the bottle that was now in his hand.

“Since Fay.” I said, feeling my pulse speed up as I pried open the box we’d thoroughly nailed and welded shut a long time ago.

Surprised eyes shot back to me, “Yeah, since… Fay.” He frowned, watching me closely to see what I would do after uttering the previously forbidden word in front of me for the first time in almost a year, “I’m happy you’re not reacting like last time I said her name, would get expensive in an establishment like this.”

I laughed, feeling both amusement and shame over having smashed one of his windows while I was recovering at his place – as well as his TV. Thankfully Mat just smiled at me, obviously feeling some type of relief over the fact that I was ready to say her name again. That – while slow – I was actually healing.

Well… in some ways anyway.

Mat's smile quickly turned sour, his thoughts returning to the current situation, “I can’t do it again Oli, she’s all yours. I’m just gonna stay away, lick my wounds and move on.”

I watched him take another swig, clearly upset, and I caught myself wondering if I only wanted him to pursue Alice for my sake, for my peace of mind – to test Alice, see what she would do.

To see if she’d fail me, just like Fay did.

“Hate to say it but has that ever worked for us, the staying away bit?”

I truly am scum.

“Not like there’s other options.” He mumbled distantly, his eyes remaining on the view.

“We can let her pick.”

I felt like the daftest person alive for continuing this. I could simply tell him now how much I feel for Alice, how tangled up my emotions and thoughts are about her – that yes, he should stay away so I can continue working on Alice’s commitment issues and hopefully come out on top.

He scoffed, “Yeah cause that went so great with Fay– also hasn’t Alice already picked, let me guess; she’s in your room right now, no?”

“Alice isn’t Fay.” I said, realising I meant it – realising that I actually did have some faith in Alice, that maybe I was building some trust in her after all, “Besides, she likes you.”

That was unnecessary.

One of his eyebrows raised, “She told you that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah.”

He huffed out a breath, “She’s an odd one.”

“No arguments there.”

He leaned further into the mattress behind him, “So, to summarize, we’re already fucked; it’s already morphed into yet another love triangle?”

I swallowed, “Seems that way.”

“Record speed that.” Shaking his head, he eyed me up, “Will you be alright?”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” Somewhere along the way the lies came easier.

It crossed my mind that this was eerily similar to how my last two relapses began; with the small untruths growing larger, snowballing into massive, monstrous lies.

I should be worried, I should want to break the pattern before I spiral further.

But instead I found comfort in it, wanting to spiral out of control, knowing where that leads.

Knowing the relief it will bring.

More self loathing filled me like foul sludge, settling in my gut as I felt a sense of acceptance wash over me; this is who I am as a person, and I can never escape it.

So why even bother fighting it?

“Can I have some of that?” I heard myself say as I reached for Mat’s bottle, taking it out of his hand to down several large gulps, attempting to ward off my intrusive thoughts.

Mat was frowning at me as I drank, coming to his own conclusions about what was going through my head, “You caught some feelings for the bird too then?”

You can say that.

“Yeah.” I breathed as the amber liquid warmed my throat.

The laugh that came from Mat was borderline hysteric, “We go on one bloody date with her, and here we are – right back to square one… Absolutely fucking ridiculous.” He took the bottle back off of me in order to also down a questionable amount – and suddenly the bottle was done for. 

Sure, it was one date, but we’d both been around her for a month now, watching her, wanting her, being enthralled by whatever spell she’d put on us.

At least I’d had the privilege of fucking her brains out the past week.

After Mat tossed the empty bottle to the side, we sat in silence for a long moment.

He’s got a crush on her.

My heart was tearing in half, sharp talons of fear scraping all along my back.

She’s interested in him, attracted to him.

Yet numbness was wrapping around me like a warm and cosy blanket on a cold winter's night.

I was also confused, not quite sure how my intentions had turned so selfish, so manipulative.

I fucking hate myself.

“You’ve been acting differently lately, and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad, but bring me back into the loop when you can, yeah?”

His words startled me, coming out of nowhere in our deep silence.

“This tour’s just a bit longer than usual, I’m knackered.” 

More lies.

Pushing myself back to my feet, some of the numbness momentarily released, letting guilt and worry crawl back under my skin.

“Will you be alright?” I asked the sprawled, defeated looking man on the floor in front of me.

The smile he gave me wasn’t convincing, “Yeah of course, I always bounce back.”

I sucked on my teeth, wanting to scream – wanting so badly to do better than this, but not knowing how right now.

Not while I was falling apart myself.

“Alright. See you tomorrow then.” Is all I said, like the fucking prick I am, before I stalked off.

“Turn off the light, will you?”

“Sure.” I flicked the lightswitch next to the exit.

“Ta, mate.”

The moment the door latched shut behind me, my hands started to shake from the bone deep disappointment I felt in myself.

I looked towards my room, where my dear, sweet Alice was sleeping, willing my feet to move in its direction. I wanted so badly to just disappear in her comfort, but I couldn’t do it, couldn’t allow myself that peace, that joy.

Instead I walked the opposite direction, through the fire exit, ascending the steps to the rooftop that I had so lovingly planned out for us. Laying down, I covered myself in several blankets, the night's chill having crept in during the several hours we haven’t been here. My eyes quickly settled on the smiley in the sky that Alice had pointed out right before our date derailed, and I wanted to cry, to mourn the hopes and dreams I had for us.

It was as if we were destined to fail, the universe working against us at every turn, like I couldn’t seem to make a single good decision when it came to her.

Or maybe we were just too broken, like chipped teacups; our sharp edges cutting each other as we drank.

Whatever the reason for everything turning to shit, I couldn’t stand it.

Images from my dream began to flicker in my mind's eye, of Fay’s face hovering over mine as she tried to drown me, which led me to do something I hadn’t allowed myself to do in a very long time.

Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I started scrolling down my list of messages. I scrolled and I scrolled, for quite some time, as the chat I was searching for had been pushed far down the list by now, until the name of the devil herself appeared on my screen.

I paused, knowing how hard it had been for me to stop reading our chat log several times a day, not wanting to fall back into old habits.

I’m already knee deep in old habits, I might as well dive right in.

As soon as I opened the chat my emotions from months ago came bubbling up. They weren’t sharp and all-consuming like they were back then, but I still felt a duller version of them, the cousin of their pure form.

Most of them were negative, but somewhere in there I could defect positive emotions as well. Not love by any means, but some part of me still cared about her, still didn’t want her dead, and still – for some unknown reason – wished things could have turned out differently for us.

“Fay: Please pick up”

“Fay: I’ve never loved anyone like I love you”

“Fay: I’m so fucking sorry please”

“Fay: Please answer”

There were so many messages like this – 43 to be exact, pleading, begging me to hear her out, to forgive her. I would stare at them, feeling the full range of emotions they elicited – be pushed to get high from them – but I never responded.

The messages kept coming for months, and when I thought they’d finally stopped, another one came through, breaking my heart all over again.

“Fay: How am I supposed to live my life without my best friend?”

And then the final one, a week later, which is where they came to an end.

“Fay: I will always love you with my entire being, and I will always be just a phone call away, so never hesitate to reach out. Remember that soulmates are eternal.”

The last sentence still felt like shackles around my ankles, despite having given up on the concept of soulmates by now. I almost bled out from the wounds she left me with, and now my heart is made entirely of scar tissue.

For the millionth time I considered deleting the chat history, to finally rid myself of this catalogued museum of pain, but as I stared at the delete button the unthinkable happened.

“Ah, fuck.” I muttered as the phone connected with my face, having dropped it right on my nose while using it laying down. Fumbling to get a proper hold on it, I was struck with the sensation of falling backwards as I looked at the screen.

“Oli: Hi”

My heartbeat was pounding in my ears as realisation settled in.

Somewhere between dropping it and getting it back into my hands I must have accidentally pressed one of the auto response options.

I bolted upright into a sitting position.

“Fuck!”

My loud outburst caused a flock of birds to flee a nearby tree.

Instantly I began trying to unsend the message, hoping it would let me, but my phone started buzzing as I clutched it.

‘Incoming call: Fay’ It read

Instinctively I swiped it away, hating myself for never having been able to block her, but she was already typing.

“Fay: Oli, hi dear”

“Fay: I saw you in Vegas, you were incredible but you always are”

It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that she was still going to my shows – and why was she talking to me like we’re friends, like she never destroyed me?

She’s still obsessed with me.

I should be repulsed, I should feel unease at the fact that my ex was essentially still stalking me. Yet, for some inexplicable reason the thought brought me joy, made me feel special.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I heard the sound of the door opening behind me, and in my panicked state I shoved the phone under one of the pillows, hoping my shameful thoughts would be shoved away with it.

“Can I join you?”

Craning my neck, I saw Alice standing by the door, looking dishevelled and sleepy, rubbing her arms to stay warm.

My heart melted at the sight of her, easing me away from the mountain of unresolved issues hiding under the plush pillow next to me.

“Of course.” I responded under my breath, hoping I could force my pulse to settle before she nestled into me – hoping she wouldn’t notice the fucked up state I’m in.

The warmth of her against my body felt beyond incredible, reminding me further of what a piece of shit I am.

“Are you okay?” She whispered.

For a split second I considered being honest, not wanting to break the emotional and mental bond we’ve managed to establish so far. Wanting desperately to be open and honest with her around every corner, around every bend.

“Yeah, just another nightmare. Thought I’d come up here and enjoy the night some more.”

I felt myself being pulled further into the void, down the spiral that leads to all the wrong places and dead ends.

After a beat she asked a question she’d asked me before, one I wished I could have answered the first time, but we’d been interrupted.

“Want to tell me about them?”

She wanted to know more about the tender parts of me, to gently touch on my sore spots. I should be overjoyed, knowing that’s the path to the type of relationship I want with her, yet I couldn’t bring myself to go there right now.

“Can we talk about it another time? I just want to rest if that’s alright.”

The already deep disappointment I harboured within myself dug its nails in deeper still.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

She sounded so worried, clearly sensing my disconnect.

But there was nothing I could do tonight besides hold her close, and hope the comfort I was stealing from her would help me see tomorrow with more clarity.

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[gingeart]

phaesra, my tav! she's a lolth-born drow and a spores druid <3 backstory under cut!

(if there's much cult of lolth/underdark lore in-game i haven't gotten to it yet, this is just based off my own headcanons and the faerun+forgotten realms wiki pages!)

phaesra was inducted into the cult of lolth and groomed towards priestesshood from a young age; this involved a lot of lying, manipulating, backstabbing, and sex, all for the favor of a goddess who seldom cares about her followers anyway. she and her closest friend, xiulia (whom she was in love with), treated each other like shit, because that's what you do there. phaesra began to get tired of this, though, finding herself dreaming about what a life outside the cult might look like; xiulia knew about this, but agreed to keep her mouth shut about the traitorous thoughts.

xiulia, who thought phaesra was foolish and childish for objecting to lolth's methodology, kept her promise until the time was right, informing the priestesses training them that phaesra was thinking about leaving in exchange for her shot at priestesshood. while xiulia left phaesra behind and moved upwards in the cult's ranks, phaesra was given a full reeducation in lolth's ways, leaving her certain that she had to either escape or die trying. she followed lolth's tenants completely while she bode her time and planned her escape, making her break for the wilds of the underdark only a week before her trials were to begin.

being in the cult, phaesra'd thought she'd had to be sharp before; that was nothing compared to surviving the wilds while being hunted by agents of the goddess, whose wrath at being betrayed was unmatched. the only reason she was able to survive was stumbling across a druid circle, who told her they could not keep her for long, but could show her ways to hide her scent for a little bit. they advised for the long term that if she were able to find some way to be reborn, lolth would have no way to track her soul anymore. unwilling to let the circle be hurt because of her, phaesra set off alone.

the druids' methods worked for a little bit, but every escape was narrower and narrower, and there were monsters in the underdark who didn't belong to lolth too. eventually she found herself trapped in a cave, unable to hunt or resupply, and her will to live dwindled as her food and water did too; tired and with no hope left, she laid down among the mushrooms to die, knowing that being claimed and reused by nature would be a better death than any other she might receive.

a week went by without her moving, a week of her observing the world moving around her from that singular point. she understood the decay of her body as the mold and mushrooms she'd made her deathbed in grew around and into her; she was the spores, plain and simple. and she wasn't dead, even if she should be, so she got up and left, breaking immediately for the surface just in case any agents of lolth should still be looking for her. a couple of days after getting to the surface, she was snatched up by the nautiloid ship

[themonstrousmenagerie]

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧The Sea Show part 2✧.*✧.*✧.*✧

warning: death, gore, dehumanization

The patron’s shouts were deafening even through the pool’s walls and layers of water. Kaiyo kept doing rounds underneath the Monster’s feet as they stood on a platform hanging just above the water’s surface. He couldn’t tell which voices were more common, to make him swim around or to hunt. He hated himself for hoping for the latter, the chasing included live fish that he could eat. The show host waited for a few minutes, trying to catch if either of the ideas was requested more, but it seemed like both were equally popular. 

“My dear patrons, looks like everyone wants a different thing, but fortunately I’ve already planned for an occurrence like that” They snapped their fingers, and one of the assistants, a painfully thin fox yokai, her tail wrapped in shining red ribbon and golden bells. The creature didn’t raise her head nor utter a word when she gave the Monster a small, metal box made out of wires shaped like branches and leaves. Kaiyo couldn’t see clearly what was inside, the box’s bottom was a solid piece of brass. But he suspected what it was.

“Well then, looks like the audience can’t decide, and who am I to deny our Patrons their rightful entertainment? Both it is then!” the hellish bell rang again, the mer stopped the mindless circling to get closer to the show's host. As he got closer, the box’s content became revealed; a pixie fairy. The small, humanoid creature form was thrashing around, desperately trying to get away from Monster’s hands. 

“As you all know, koi fish eat anything, from algae to insects” Now, that he was closer to the surface, the elf’s voice got louder, the way they touched his scales sending shivers down his spine. Just yesterday the same nails that now were scratching him gently almost ripped apart his tail veil when he didn’t make the jump they wanted high enough.

“But those mers are strictly carnivorous, feeding on the same fish that their tail originates from. This little friend got a bit nervous, today is his first performance before a large audience of course, and he didn’t eat too much in the past few days. So, let me show you how well he can jump to catch his dinner” With that, the Monster pulled the pixie out of the metal box, careful not to break her wings. The container banged on the walkway over the pool, sending a painful sound through the water. When their hand was free, they once again rang the bell. Two long rings, a pause, and another three short ones. ‘Dinner’ and ‘hunt’. The fairy squeaked when her leg was cut, two drops of her blood falling into the water, putting the mer in a hunting frenzy. The long shrunken stomach began hurting again, while his instincts sharpened, zeroing on the pathetic flying creature that was now vulnerable. And easy to catch.

When Kaiyo’s pupils blew wide, ready to jump, the Monster let go of the pixie, which in turn bolted upwards. The patrons blocked her way on the sides, a single skylight on the top of the circus tent being the only way out.

“Go on, it’s all yours” the Show Master whispered, the mer not waiting any second longer. With two powerful beats of the tail, he gained speed in the water and shot out of the water. The fairy didn’t stand a chance. The audience held their breath as the two giant hands caught her mid-air and both creatures bolted down towards the pool. Now out of the poll, they could clearly see his white tail dotted with red and black dots, a thin veil reaching from his shoulderblades to the fins, and that he was twice as long as a human. His body made an enormous splash, some droplets almost reaching the audience before they evaporated on the magical shield protecting the seats from the performers.

After a few seconds, Kaiyo surfaced in front of the Monster, his face dripping with water and blood, two sets of sharp teeth shining in a broad smile. His pupils were blown wide, consuming almost all of his visible eye. 

“Good boy” the Show Master petted his raven-black hair. They straightened their back, pacing the audience, and made a deep bow. A few seconds of silence, then a thunderous applause.

“Of course, all creatures in the Menagerie are well-trained and can do such tricks! I am more than glad to give you more! Please, tell me your desires! Or, would you rather see more of our monsters?”

Taglist: @whumpsday @firapolemos05 @sodascribbles @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @crypticidentity @mothmxwhump @enigmawriteswhump @bees-among-the-okami

[universalzones]

You should give into that anger.

Those words have been echoing in her head all day since they were spoken to her, and what's worse is she knew who did it. Whisper having been out and about, getting some supplies for a stakeout when it happened. A stranger, someone she didn't get a good glimpse at or wasn't even paying any attention to, whispered this into her ear. It stunned her because there was only one person who would use those exact words. Mimic, though they were gone in the crowd before she could react.

Whisper tried her best to ignore it, drown out the mountain of thoughts building up in her head and move on with her day. Though it wasn't easy, not when she knew the reason why Mimic said those words. He was the only one who truly knows how deep her rage ran now, and how it was now tied to that monster inside her. The one trained to adapt to any environment, any situation, and any opponent to come out on top. The wolf had been conditioned to be a true killer.

Whisper had done her best, though it was starting to get too much, almost like she could feel them pounding at the door and demanding to be free. To continue the hunt for the one who hurt her so much, caused her this pain, and caused her all this anger. The wolf drowning out everything around her as she walked around the base in an attempt to clear her head. Then the voice she fights to keep repressed finally surfaced.

It was mocking her, calling her weak, questioning what she was doing, telling her to follow the training, to find Mimic, and finally end him. Whisper hated this voice because it's not who she is, not anymore. Though it disagrees, saying who she is now is a fake and that they were hiding from who they really were. The wolf continued try and ignore it, though it persists and she was starting to slip.

Whisper's fur was now standing on edge, she began looking at everyone like there were a threat under her mask, she began to keep her distance from the people she walked past, and the voice stroked this by saying anyone could be Mimic. The wolf tried harder to ignore the voice and even repress it again, though it fought back strongly.

Whisper was losing ground, her fist clenching tightly, her body tensing up, her eyes darting between every person from behind her mask, and the voice's flawed logic sounding more convincing. Had it been anyone else the wolf could bounce back, though it was Mimic which meant he was here. She was close to breaking, her eyes targeting on someone she's about to pass, going full tunnel and they would be too close. Her eyes going into tunnel vision and behind the mask she began to smile sickly.

However, just before Whisper crossed paths with the person walking by she felt a hand on her shoulder. The wolf swiftly turning as the tunnel vision got worse, though then it all seemed to just... pause. She was looking at Tangle who had the goofy smile, a bag on her left hand, and just giving off a positive aura.

"Whisper, I just came up with the COOLEST idea. I'm going to ask Belle to make a small battery with a plug so for the holidays I can wrap these Christmas lights around my tail and festival tail punch Badniks. What do you think?" Tangle asked, barely able to stay still at the thought of what she thought was a good idea while ignoring how it could go terribly wrong.

In an instant the voice swiftly died down, almost nothing more than a light nagging in her head. Whisper pulled off her mask, smiling softly at Tangle. "I think is not the safest idea." The wolf didn't wisht to see Tangle hurt after all, and that was likely having Christmas lights wrapped around her tail.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, and my tail is tough enough to withstand Badniks blowing up on it so I'm sure if something goes wrong I'll be fine. I just want to punch Badnik festive style." Tangle was sure it'd be fine. Besides, the lemur was tough and had been through worse dealing with Eggman and his bots.

Of course Tangle wasn't worried about the worse case scenario, though it only made her smile softer and the voice finally stopped. "How about festive stickers instead? Much safer, but still festive." Whisper thought it best to compromise when the lemur got like this. "We don't want Lanolin yelling at you after all."

"Dang, I completely forgot about Lanolin, and I think she's still a bit mad after my Halloween prank. Stickers it is then, though I'm getting a TON of them." Tangle best start saving up. "Then we'll use the lights for your room. I know you aren't big on holidays, though couldn't hurt, right?" The lemur asked, once more offering her goofy smile.

Whisper wanted to decline, though knew once Tangle had her mind set on something it was nearly impossible to stop her. "Alright, I'll have them up at the start of next month." The wolf watching the lemur jump in joy at this small victory before rushing off as she always tried to get her to decorate her room during the holidays.

Whisper was glad to have friends like Tangle as they made it easier to manage the voice inside her wanting to come out. The wolf would never be them, not if she could help it. Though now she was going to be on guard knowing Mimic was around. She doubts he'd be bold enough to attack her at The Restoration and was sure he was simply attempting to make her snap. With this failed attempted she was sure he'd retreat. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt her new family, especially herself.

[sca3a]

Scars and Lavender (original)

Cyrille sank down into the tub, sighing contentedly as the warm water eased her sore muscles and bruised skin. The latest contract had taken way longer than she had wanted, bordering on almost a week. It hadn't been easy, but she had finally solved it and earned quite the coin pouch from it.

She ducked beneath the surface, feeling the warmth surround her. Once she resurfaced again and sat back in the wooded tub, she felt loving fingers begin to massage her scalp.

"It's late," she murmured. "Did I wake you?"

"Nah," the woman behind her replied, "I can't sleep when you're out on business."

Cyrille turned sideways, looking at the other woman. She was dressed in a simple, white sleeping gown and her red hair hung loose around her shoulders like a blanket. Freckles adorned her nose, cheeks, forehead and chin, giving her a youthful appearance. She was beautiful and Cyrille's heart skipped a beat.

"What did I do to deserve you, Ros?"

Rosyne chuckled and gestured to her to turn back, "Someone needs to keep you sane."

Cyrille turned back and felt how Ros began to lather her hair. A smile spread across her lips as a scent of lavender began to spread throughout the room. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"New soap?"

"I dabbled," Ros mused. "I needed something to do while you were out hunting monsters." She was then quiet for a short moment before continuing, "I see you've earned a couple of new scars."

Sighing, Cyrille glanced at the aforementioned scars. "Yeah, he was a tough bastard."

She knew Ros worried about her. That she dove into work when she was away, because she feared what might happen. That her worst nightmare was that she would walk out the door and never come back. Yet, the risk was always there. No one could predict how a hunt would go and there had been times where she had barely made it. This was one such time. To clear her head she instead asked,

"Weren't you supposed to sew a new gown for some rich lady?"

"That would be lady Devenwald, and I did sew her a gown - " Ros gently pushed her under the surface to rinse, continuing when she resurfaced - "but since you were gone longer, and there is only so much stitching and mending I can do, I decided to make a new soap."

Cyrille laughed and turned again, resting her arms on the tub's edge. "You're cute, you know that?"

Blushing, Ros kissed her before standing. "Finish, so that you can come to bed."

Cyrille watched after her. Finishing her bath, she stepped out and wrapped a towel around her. As she was making her way to the bed, a knock on the door stopped her.

Ros cast a glance at her, then shook her head and whispered, "Don't, they don't have to know you're back."

Cyrille had just decided to let Ros have her way when there was another knock, accompanied by a pleading voice,

"Ma'am Witchmaster, please! Open the door."

Cyrille groaned and hid her face in her hands, knowing that she was about to break Ros' heart. Again. Straightening with a sigh she walked over to the door, opening it. On the other side stood a young man, barely old enough to hold a pitchfork. Blond, dishelved hair hung down in his eyes and the white shirt he was wearing looked like it was draped over a twig. The brown trousers were tied tightly with a belt, but were surely at least three sizes too big. He was thumbing an old strawhat, that most likely had been passed down and Cyrille's heart ached for him.

"Yes?"

The boy looked at her wide-eyed, a blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks. "Ma'am, please! Yous gotta help me. It's me da, he's gone missing."

Cyrille furrowed her brow, tilting her head. "Missing? Shouldn't this be something for the guard, then?"

The boy suddenly looked desperate, "Miss, ma'am, please! Them guards, they do nothin'. Says he left, but he wouldn't. Please. It's one of them wood nyms, I swear. They took me da."

"Wood nyms..?" Cyrille looked at him confused, "Do you mean a wood nymph?"

The boy nodded, "Yes, them."

"Are you sure? Wood nymphs don't usually straight up kidnap people. Is it possible that he made a pact with one?"

"No," The boy shook his head fiercly. "Da would never."

Cyrille sighed but nodded, "Fine. I'll look into it."

The boy smiled happily, "Thank you, thank you! Should ya find anythin', we live by the woods." He then bowed ungracefully before disappearing down the hall.

"Lives by the woods, you say?" Cyrille repeated quietly, "Then I have my work cut out for me."

[jynxd]

As a child she had discovered how cruel the world truly was. Most importantly she discovered what its was like to truly be a zaunite. There were natural, predatorial instincts that those who born here inherited, it was ingrained in their very being. The signs of these instincts would always surface, however for some it showed the older they got, namely in their teens. Most didn’t know what to do about it, just simply let it be but kept it uncontained until they no longer could. However these signs had begun to develop on Jinx before she had even hit double digits.

Jinx was too young at the time to realize what they were or what they meant. It started with little things, such as developing a habit to nip at Silco’s fingers with not yet sharpened teeth. In times where Jinx sought comfort in his lap, she would do this often. Silco never responded, as if it were the most natural thing, like it was supposed to be. Never once did he tell her to stop, in fact he almost seemed to encourage it. Just as he had done when her claws began to surface, the result in which required him to tailor several new suits. Early signs of her monster, one Silco carefully and strategically nurtured, which became a core part of who she was now. This was only made stronger by becoming a hound.

So the idea that someone could not only deny that part of themselves, but turn away from it sickened her. By doing that you were no better than the filth of piltover, and as silco said, you became prey. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that papa, the little piggy will soon discover what it means to feel like prey.” A sickening grin spread across her face at the image of watching him panic and squeal as he was hunted down. “I can’t wait to tear him apart, show him what it’s really like to be a zaunite.”

The grin shrunk as Silco rose his hand, her expression taking a more serious form. Admittedly the excitement was too obvious, she realized. If they went in there now, they would have a warning that something was going to happen. They might even try to run and while she loved the idea of the building fear, it needed to contained. The hunger would have to wait for just the right time, to listen for the go ahead. Conditioning would help ease this but she didn’t want to disappoint Silco by letting her excitement get the better of her.

Jinx steeled her excitement the best she could by taking a deep breath. The effort was aided by the ruffling of her bangs, his encouragement. “Am I that obvious? I’m sorry, it’s just I want him to suffer and so does the monster. He deserves it.” Sapphire orbs glanced up at Silco with determination now as she nodded her head. “For you I can do anything, papa. I’ll hold my excitement for now until you’re ready to make him squeal.”

Very rarely did he reach out and touch her, a touch avqersion she’d only become aware of once she had reached her teens. So just the mere act of touching her, even if it was just her hair, spoke volumes. It had demanded her attention and focus. “I trust you’ll rile him up for me, won’t you papa?”

Silco gave a barely visible nod, confirming Jinx's suspicion. His daughter understood his mindset perfectly. She knew what it meant to be a Zaunite. Monstrosity was a part of it. Trying to pretend to be something, you were not, would always be bound to fail. Vander had tried imitating Piltover's diplomacy for the sake of peace with Grayson, and it had led to a slow and suffocating strangulation of the Undercity.

Eramis was even worse. He was not doing this for the sake of some flimsy, shared peace. He was imitating Piltover because he had fallen in love with their side of the river, and he was hoping that by catering to their tastes, he could fill his pockets with gold coins instead of cogs. It was despicable. Unlike the stereotypical image of the lying and deceiving Zaunite, Undercity folk praised itself on their almost brutal honesty.

Even Renata Glasc, who much like Eramis traded with Piltover, had proven that when push came to shove, she fought like any other Zaunite. Sure, she usually let other people do the fighting, thanks to her refined Chemtech and beautiful designs, but she still was more than willing to tear someone's throat out and not shrink away from the act. She was as shrewd and cunning as him and normally, she would be as manipulative as a two-headed viper. But alas if you had earned Renata's respect and her loyalty instead of merely pledging yours, she became one of your fiercest defenders. If only because it was good for business.

Eramis had none of that saving grace for himself. As Jinx growled in disgust, putting into words what the Eye of Zaun had been thinking for a while, Silco cocked his head forward and raised his eyebrows. He tutted softly and said: "How right you are, my little predator. Erasmis has filed his fangs and claws down. His jaws are ruined and his paws carry no strength in their swipe. He made himself prey. Time to treat him like that."

Silco raised a hand, trying to still Jinx's excitement, emitting from her in waves. He spoke: "Not yet, Jinx. I want Eramis to know exactly what he has done wrong. I want him to slowly realise his fate, and it is too late by the time everything clicks for him. I promise you will be able to hunt him. I want you to do it. But until then, you have to keep yourself in check." The hand stalling her excitement rose and ruffled her cobalt blue bangs like she was still the baby wolverine, nipping at his fingers. "Do you think you can do that for me?"

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monster Hunt: The Falsemorn

“I knew something was wrong as soon as I heard the cock cawing, that damn old rooster, it was too early, no way the sun was up so soon, not with how little sleep I’d gotten

.... I think that’s why we survived, when the Tolldell’s didn’t and the Ruthbridges,  all because my family kept some ratty old bird who was half blind enough to mistake that ..... thing for the dawn.”

-A survivor’s account

Setup: Creeping quietly across the pre-dawn horizon like a bank of predatory fog, the aberration known as the Falsemorn has intruded onto the material plane from some dark and terrible place like a deep sea predator transposed into the shallows of the local swimminghole. It feeds sporatically, emerging from the earth itself when the conditions are right to coast along in search of food, snapping up any animal life it can find with its silent tendrils, which inflict a liquifying rot on anything they come into contact with. While at first glance the creature might just appear to be some tenticular mass, a careful eye will notice that there is infact nothing obscured by the fog, and that the Falcemourn’s pseudopods simply condense out of its gaseous mass as needed, as too do the burning flares of plasma that serve as the beast’s eyes and projectile weapons. 

Hunting the beast will be extremely difficult, not only thanks to its gargantuan size, but due to the fact that if something actually manages to damage it enough the Falsemourn will completely discorporate, raining down upon the earth in a mile wide downpour of red, chemical scented rain. It may be anywhere from weeks to years before the beast is seen again, seldom surfacing in the same place twice. 

Hooks: 

The party’s first encounter with the Falsemorn is likely to be a random one, sighted far off while they’re camping on the plains by whosever on watch, unsure of what exactly it is they’re seeing a woman galloping towards them at high speed to tell them the bad news. Loaded down with enough guns to outfit a small municipality, this desperate messenger goes by the name Tabitha Saint (Tribulation to her friends) and has spent the past decade and a half of her life hunting the Falsemourn wherever it rears it’s ugly not-head. Urging the party up and to run for their lives until the sun rises, Tabitha offers to draw the creature off and meet them in the next town should she survive.  She will, obviously, in a former life Tabitha was a trickrider and exhibition shooter in a traveling show, and has honed her art over years into the perfect fighting form to dodge around flesh-melting tendrils for however long it takes her opponent to dissipate. Watching her work is a thing of pure beauty, but that would require one to be close enough to her alien quarry to risk drawing getting drawn into the fight aswell. 

When Tabitha eventually catches up to the party, she’ll tell them her story, about the village she retired to with her lover up in the mountains, about how one day their well water went wrong and how their farm animals began to disappear, about the mornings where there were no birds left to sing. She’ll tell them that these are signs to watch for that herald the Falsemorn’s emergence, and to send word for her wherever they might be. With that, she’ll return to her hunt, leaving the party to resume their lives, and perhaps follow up on a few leads of where the aberration might have come from, returning to haunts to painful for Tabitha to return to on her own. 

The fog hunter is beyond capable in her own right, but lacked the sort of education growing up that might allow her to pin point just where her foe is hiding in between its feedings. When the Falsemorn discorporates, it flows into the watertable, collecting together in aquafers deep beneath the ground until it reaches some critical mass and can seep back up to the surface under its own power. Consulting with a prospector, druid, or expert on geology might give the party the edge they seek, as well as point out a cavern system that their quarry might be using as a lair while in its weakened state. 

How exactly do you fight a cloud? Tabitha has through trial and error discoverd the beast is at least partially sensitive to pain, but has never managed to make a big enough bang to keep the creature down for good. She has noticed the thing doesn’t like cold, as it never surfaces between the season’s first frost and thaw, so perhaps some genius engineers could whip the party up some kind of wide range winterization bomb, large enough to flash-freeze the falsemorn and prevent it from drizzling away. 

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Atonement

01/07/2022

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,393

Warnings: fingering, vaginal sex, fluff

Summary: Geralt finds his love in a hot spring after a sheer endless monster hunting season.

A/N: Water is my favourite element and somehow my mind seems to think it is the perfect match for my beloved Witcher. I wrote smut with Geralt in the water before, but I'm not even remotely sorry for doing it again.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

A knowing smile curled both ends of his Cupid’s bow upwards as he broke through the line of fir trees. His senses had picked up her presence a good while ago, but now as a fresh gust of her scent invaded his nostrils, there could be no doubt she was really here.

Careful not to slip on the glazed rocks, he drew closer. With every step he took, he could feel the icy chill of the winter morning vanish, and soon clouds of pleasantly warm steam engulfed him, thawing his frozen bones and heart alike.

Despite the early hour, a few birds had picked up their song already, and their sweet melody mixed with the soft gurgling and murmuring of the stream that crawled along the foot of the mountain a good distance beneath the plateau that lay ahead of him. The stony path led him around a corner—the last one, he thought, before his eyes would finally find what they had been longing to see for more than half a year.

And what a sight she was, the ethereal beauty of the scene taking him completely by surprise. For a moment, he had to stop walking, afraid his feet might stumble like his heart did. Surrounded by the mist that rose from the surface of the natural pool, her face was veiled from his famished eyes. As was most of her body, enveloped by the white water that left him nothing to feed upon than the hint of two curves that sparked the memory of a breathtakingly soft globe nestled in his large palm.

A pleased hum left his chest in a cloud of hot air when his eyes found the necklace he had given her, the small stone that was attached to it dangling teasingly in the valley of her breasts. He had brought it home for her after a particularly successful monster hunting season, when there was still some extra coin to spare. The moment he had spotted it, he knew it would look stunning around her neck, the stone a perfect match with the colour of her vibrant eyes, and the way it glistened in the first light of day now proved him right once again.

It was almost impossible to tear his eyes away from it, but when he did, he was rewarded with the alluring line of her silky neck. The urge to press his lips against her pulse point and feel the rhythm of her steady heart begin to hitch and flutter as his hands would set out to explore her body was almost too much to bare, his cock already straining against its refinements.

And when his gaze met hers at last and noticed the same ravenous hunger in her sparkling orbs that threatened to consume him, had done for so many torturous days and nights, his hands began to work on their own accord. His eyes never left hers, afraid this might just be another dream, his fingers blindly freeing his body of his cloak, his shirt and trousers.

The stutter in her breath as he was finally bared to her watchful gaze made him chuckle and he enjoyed every second of his slow stride towards the edge of the pool, her eyes roaming his naked flesh in anticipation of the pleasure that was about to befall both of them.

He was beautiful, her witcher, just like she remembered him. Maybe with a few more scars here and there, but there were always new marks on his skin after a summer of fighting monsters and men alike. And as much as she hated the pain they had caused, she loved caressing them while he held her in his arms and his calming voice told her the tales of their origin.

Suddenly a twinkle flitted across his amber orbs that shone almost golden in the warm light of the sunrise and before she knew what was happening he dove into the milky water headfirst, his massive body making hardly any sound as it broke through the surface and vanished from view. Only seconds later, he was with her, calloused fingers reaching out to graze her touch-starved skin, gliding up her sides eagerly, before, with a gasp, his white hair and massive shoulders rose from the water and he pulled her against his chest.

There was no more time to waste, they had both waited long enough for this moment, and so her fingers dove into his wet locks and brought his lips to hers. She shivered upon the familiar taste, a moan forcing her lips apart to grant him access. And he gladly seized his chance, his tongue gliding along her lips to find hers in a tender dance. In a heartbeat, all the yearning and heartache washed away under his sure touch. He was home.

But still there was this sting she felt, making her pull away and coaxing a displeased grunt from his mouth. Puzzled eyes looked at her from underneath a pair of eyebrows that were knit together tightly.

“You’re late,” she sulked, her eyes darkening dangerously. And yet, her grim expression pulled a bemused grin onto his lips.

“Your scent was still fresh when I followed you here. You can only have arrived a few minutes ago yourself.”

Her palms pressed against his pecs to force her way out of his irritatingly bewitching embrace, but his arms only tightened their hold.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she pressed out, her fists drumming weakly against his chest.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Even with one arm, he was strong enough to secure her body to his, his free hand cupping her head as his lips pressed a sweet kiss to her damp hair. “I had to take a minor detour.”

“Huh,” she huffed against his shoulder, “I came here every day for almost three weeks but you never showed and that’s all I get as an apology? Don’t you dare think I will forgive such neglect easily.”

A deep chuckle rolled through his chest and caused another shiver to crawl along her skin.

“I’d hoped you’d say that.” And when his lips pressed against her ear to whisper his next words, she couldn’t hold back the wild moan any longer that revealed her true need for him. “I’m fully prepared to work for your forgiveness.”

He manoeuvred her body through the water with ease, and next thing she knew, she found her back pressed against his firm chest, one arm slung around her middle to keep her locked in place. She squirmed under his tight grip, just a little as she was determined not to make it too easy for him, but when his free hand set out to reacquaint himself with every dip and every curve of her body, she slowly stopped her antics and gave in to his touch. He purred like a giant cat as his fingers took the liberty of exploring her body freely, the vibrations of his chest rolling against her back and seeping into her skin with the effect of a soothing balm.

“Geralt.” Her soft sigh was almost inaudible against the sloshing of the stream that echoed through the silence of the early morning, and yet his triumphant chuckle told her he had heard it.

“Am I forgiven already, my love?”

He was. He had been since the moment his familiar form had broken through the mist and she had seen that yearning for her in his glowing eyes. But where would be the fun in telling him that? And so she took his hand in hers and guided it along her stomach, all the way down until his fingers rested upon the last barrier that stood between her and her pleasure.

“Not yet.”

There was no hesitance in his movement as his fingers glided in between the warmth of her petals. Usually, he liked to tease her, taking his time to drive her to the edge of reason in a constant spiral of indulgence and denial as his fingers worked her with a surety he had perfected over the years, but not now. Now he was determined on reminding her why it had been worth waiting for him all summer, why no one else would ever do, why she was his.

It didn’t take much after months and months of missing his touch. A few slow circles, the right amount of pressure, and his quiet hums of desire close to her ear were enough to bring her close. He could feel it before she did, in the tensing of her body, the hitch in her breath and the beautiful sound of her racing heart. And still, she refused to give in.

“Let go, my love.” Gently his lips touched her cheek as he spoke, his grip tightening just a little. “Let go for me.”

Word for word, he broke the last resistance and she let the wave wash over her. And it almost consumed her. As if her body and mind had separated for a moment, she lost control over her physical form completely, shaking and trembling in his arm unashamedly in the knowledge that he would hold her, no matter what.

It was only when her breath began to even out and her pulse started to slow that he loosened his hold, just a tad, but enough to allow her to turn, her legs locking around his hips instantly. He could feel the heat of her sex upon his, testing his patience as it ignited a hunger he had been forced to fight back for more than half a year now. And as if that wasn’t challenge enough already, she pulled herself closer until her lips were mere inches away from his own and her honeyed breath caressed his lips as she spoke.

“Are you prepared to work a little more for my forgiveness?”

He thought he might lose his sanity when she let herself sink down on him as soon as she had finished her question. He had almost forgotten how velvety soft she felt around him, embracing him like no other and it took him everything to press out the words against the all-consuming sensation.

“If this is what it takes, I hope you’ll never forgive me.”

Unwavering fingers dug into supple globes, guiding her up and down the length of his shaft and through the haze of their long awaited union he could feel everything—her pebbled buds moving against his fur, the gentle flutter of her walls, increasing with every stroke, her blood, rushing through her veins at full speed, her breath, scorching hot on his lips, drifting through the small opening of his own to invade his lungs and fill every fibre of his body with her, only her.

“Y/N.”

Just one word, one name, yet it held so much emotion that her heart threatened to overflow from the joy it sparked. To finally hear it fall from his mouth after all the time she had just imagined him saying it, would have been reason enough to fill her with unadulterated bliss, but the emotion it held—the desire, the possessiveness, the love—almost drove her insane with happiness.

Not long before her senses picked up the telltale signs of his nearing peak. His member twitching and swelling inside of her, his mouth sinking into the crook of her neck, sucking and licking her pulse point, his fingers tightening their grip to secure her against him, and his grunts, those deep, desperate sounds of desire that rumbled through the peaceful morning air like a mighty roll of thunder.

“Come for me, Geralt. Make me yours.”

With a gasp his head resurfaced from her neck and a pair of pleading eyes found hers to seek her forgiveness. He would make it up to her later, with a few more hours of lovemaking. But now he needed to succumb to his craving, needed to claim her once again and truly become one with the woman that held his heart.

His lips crashed down on hers in a frenzied kiss as he buried himself as deep as he could, squeezing his devotion into her, marking her as his for the world to know. He loved her, more than words could ever tell, and just for this one moment in time, she was his, utterly and completely, his.

Loving fingers held his face in place, thumbs caressing his cheeks as he tried to hold on to the feeling of total unity a little longer. But as always, it escaped his grasp and he found himself gradually coming back to reality.

“I missed this,” he whispered against her lips. “I missed you.”

As soon as he had finished what had been supposed to be a declaration of true love, he could feel the distance between them grow.

“You always say that and yet you leave me every time with the first signs of spring.”

“This time it’s different.”

Vulnerable eyes closed as she eased away, turning her back on him. She didn’t understand, how could she. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know how much he had lost. He had seen so many leave, he didn’t want to lose her as well. The only constant in his life. The one who truly mattered. He could feel his heart grow heavy from the thought alone, threatening to drown him in the shallow water and so his hand reached out for her, finding her soft shoulder to turn her around.

“Please, come with me.”

She still refused to open her eyes, her head softly shaking from side to side.

“You know I would only slow you down. I’m not as skilled with the sword as you are.”

“As I said, it’s different now. And besides, you know that’s not true. You’re a great fighter.”

Finally her eyes opened to find his and the sheer love they held sparked a new hope inside his chest.

“I learned from the best.”

With both hands, he cupped her face, sealing her lips with his once again and she could feel the urgency in his kiss, the deep longing to have her by his side, always. And that was all she needed to leave her old life behind on that cold winter morning, to be his, wholly and completely, until her last breath.

***

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[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

AU with vampire Natasha x reader with a happy end? Please and thanks.

May I present to you: vampire Natasha and werewolf reader.

Stakes and Silver Bullets

Summary: Hunting at the full moon with Natalia by your side is a perfect cross between heinous and beautiful. One particular night proves that it can also be dangerous.

Pairings: Vampire!Natasha x Werewolf!Reader

Warnings: Repeated mentions of blood

Word Count: 4,485

To most people, the moon represented the fall of night. It was just this simple rock in the sky that reflected just enough sunlight that the planet wasn’t tossed into darkness as the sun dipped beyond the horizon. Sure, artists might have loved the way it bathed the land before it in a different type of glow, and maybe some people could appreciate the beauty that was so much gentler than the harsh glare of the afternoon sun. For you, it was different. The moon was beauty and terror all wrapped up in one, simple celestial body.

Tonight, the moon wasn’t quite full, but it almost was. You didn’t have to check a calendar or even take a single glance out the window to know that. You felt it in your very bones. It was urging and primal. It had erased every other thought that might have flitted through your mind. In comparison to it, they were irrelevant. The glowing orb spoke to you. It made your soul sing along to its silent melody, your heart pounding to the steady beat. It was your very reason for being. But so was she.

“When is your night?”

You turned. There she was, the bright moonlight streaming through the window she sat at, shining upon her and making her glow even more beautifully than was her usual. Her red hair was still tousled from her midnight hunt, like dancing flames falling over her shoulders. Your eyes fell to the stain on her white dress, even redder than her hair. You only hummed in response as you stood up from your chair, paper and quill abandoned on the desk thoughtlessly. You moved toward her, arms moving delicately around her waist. Soon, you were standing with your head buried against her neck, revelling in that familiar feeling of the cold surface, lack of a throbbing pulse comforting in the strangest of ways.

“Tomorrow.”

She was clearly resisting still, refusing to succumb to the arousal she knew would start building any second now. “And how are you feeling on this eve?”

You actually growled a little, the sound canine in a way that no simple person would be able to achieve. “Primal.”

She hummed contentedly as you brushed your lips against the skin where you rested. You pulled away, delicately pressing the pads of your fingers against the underside of her chin, directing her lips onto yours. She immediately responded, her hands moving onto your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones as you kissed her. The taste of blood in her mouth was exhilarating. Everything about her was. You ran your tongue along sharp fangs, loving the slight sting in the muscle as the surface scratched open. She retracted immediately.

“You are truly foul, my love,” she said, disgust crossing her features as she wiped her thumb against her lips, removing your blood from her mouth.

Maybe that’s why the two of you worked so well. This proximity with any other person would have been enthralling. The smell alone would have had her digging her fangs into the pulsing artery in their neck. That sweet substance that flowed through the veins of any breathing person was irresistible to that person she’d become all those years ago. You weren’t just any person. You had the blood of a wolf, and it repulsed her.

She was void of any of the substance. Those nights when you lost yourself, when you let that beast take over you completely, she was of no interest to you. The townsfolk were all you cared for- all you ached to taste between your lips. She would take hunt beside you, by your side during night as well as day, love burning so strong within you both even when you were doing things so hideous.

You were both killers. You were among the most hideous things that dared walk the Earth among things so beautiful. Monsters already, what was the harm in loving one another? You’d be burned at the stake for the blood that ran through your veins anyway. In for a penny, in for a pound. At least now, neither of you was alone. You loved each other fully and entirely. If love was a human emotion, then she was your humanity, and you were hers.

“Foul? Is that so, Natalia, my beloved?” You jeered, a smile crawling across your lips. “Who is it that loves you so dearly?”

Her taunting halted immediately at the husk in your words. Your hands were sliding down from where you’d had them linked over her shoulders, fingers sliding over the silky fabric that draped over her body. Your gaze wouldn’t leave hers, the image of the moon shimmering in your irises as if it were a reflection of the beast that lived within. She knew who you were. She was the only one who knew who you really were, and she loved every piece of you, including that beast, with her unbeating heart. Her words caught in her throat for a long moment.

“You,” she couldn’t help but hum as your hands squeezed her hips. “Only you.”

Your hands slid down to her thighs over top of her dress. “I know.”

Your hands moved away. Despite the small whine that escaped her, it seemed the absence of your touch allowed her to regain her composure a little. Your fingertips danced across her chest and against the pendant that you’d given her a year ago. It was a gift, something you reasoned you earned for her, even if you’d taken off the lifeless body you’d woken up next to after a long night of feral canine power. She leaned forward to kiss you once more, but you leaned away from her, a smile on your face. You extended a hand.

“Come.”

She put her hand into yours and you led her toward the bedroom. Her lips touched yours once more. The feeling would always be so much stronger and far more intoxicating than the feeling of the full moon inching closer day by day. The moon used to be the thing that made you. It had once been your heart and your soul, and it had guided you through every aspect of your life. That was years ago. Today, it was her. Everything was her.

“I love you,” she whispered, red eyes boring into yours with such intensity you were sure she could read every single piece of your soul.

“And I you, my love.”

You embraced her, lying her down and kissing her again.

Tomorrow, she’d be with you in a way that would make the townsfolk cower in their homes, as if thin walls were any defence against your combined bloodlust. Her thirst and your hunger had wooden doors shattered into splinters within seconds of discovering the scent of life, or the sound of a terrified heart beating inside a breathing chest. Nothing would keep either of you away from that.

That night, though, wasn’t about the kill. It wasn’t about what you would do in the future at all. Right then, you lay with your skin against hers in the most sinful of ways. Hers was so cold but the canine blood running beneath yours was hot, as if you were made to balance each other out. Her lips were roaming across your torso and your hand was moving toward that part of her body only you knew. If you weren’t already damned from the wolf in your spirit or the blood that had spilled beneath you each month, then you’d surely be for lying with a woman in such a way. That, though, would have been a risk you’d have been willing to take.

Still, you had to wonder if those other nights were just as intimate. On those nights with her, when the moon was at its fullest and her body ached for that bitter taste it needed so badly, you felt so close. Those nights weren’t necessarily something you wanted. They were something you needed; to fulfill those carnal needs and satiate your body in a way nothing else could. Without those nights, neither of you would survive to love each other through to the next moon. When she was by your side, performing those nefarious acts and satisfying her most primal of needs, you were both showing that part of you that you knew only the other would ever be able to love. That meant just as much to you as hearing your name tearing desperately from her lips on a silent night like that one.

As the body beneath you began shuddering uncontrollably and your name was repeatedly thrown into the cool air like a prayer, you decided it didn’t matter. You had both. It didn’t matter which brought you closer. Both things brought her a satisfaction that made you just as content. Both would have you watching her with love coursing through your veins hot as lava and yet somehow as cold as ice. Maybe that’s what made them so intimate. How you loved loving her and how you loved being at your very worst by her side.

“How are you feeling, my darling?” You cooed softly, loving the way she threw her head back for you upon hearing your words.

You grinned a little as her shaking subsided. She kissed you with a force and passion behind it that any living person would have lost the energy to do. Even you were worn out. When she pulled her lips off yours, you couldn’t help but fall back against the pillows, breathing a little heavier than usual. She chuckled at this, beckoning you to come closer to her bare body. You did so without hesitation.

“Goodnight,” she whispered as you lay down at her side.

“Hold me, Natalia?”

“Always.”

It amazed you, the patience she had. She couldn’t sleep. She didn’t need it. Yet, her arms would wrap around you as you drifted off to a world where still your dreams were of her, and when you’d awaken, she’d be in that same spot right by your side. It was endearing, and made you lean to kiss her each and every morning. Each of those mornings she’d ask you the same questions: wondering how you slept and making sure her arms hadn’t been too tight around you. She did, after all, have the strength of a mammoth.

Your answer was always the same, too. You were fine. You would always be okay, as long as she was by your side. You both knew that if she had blood beneath her skin, she would blush. She would still giggle softly, turning her cheeks away from you on instinct, as if they were burning with that bright colour of embarrassment. The action was sweet. It would make you smile as you reached out for her, bringing her back against your chest for another few minutes before the both of you decided to venture out into the other rooms of your house.

Maybe it was the nightmare you’d had last night, but something was off in the woman you loved. She was busy sitting in one of the armchairs in the other room, cowering away from the sunlight that had managed to penetrate the small crack in the boards over the windows. You covered it up, taking away that dangerous ray of light as you moved swiftly to take a spot beside her. Your fingers threaded into hers with one hand, as the other came up to her cheek. Her face was filled with such concern, and it was making your heart ache.

“Natalia?” You tried ever so softly. “Speak to me, my dove.”

Slowly, her eyes turned to yours. “One day you will depart from this world, and I will be left without you, and you own a piece of me. I will never be whole without you.”

Truthfully, your mind sometimes wandered to that inevitable day as well. You worried, the thought constantly in the back of your head, wreaking havoc on your mind every time it dared wander to the event. It had taken her more than a hundred years to find someone to love the way she loved you, and the two of you were interconnected in a way you were sure a mortal person could never dream to understand.

You reached out for one of the old wooden chairs, bringing it toward you and, in a flair of theatrics, snapped off one of the legs. The superhuman act seemed to have quite the effect on her. Her tongue darted out from between her lips, eyes tracing the strong muscles on your arms. You chuckled, moving forward and flipping the broken chair leg over in the air, catching it back in your hand.

“When I depart from this world, my dearest of loves, you take this. If you find that you cannot bear this life without me, then follow me.”

She took the broken piece of furniture into her own hands. It was the only thing that could tear her from the life she’d been so long living. Splinters of wood fell from the end, scattering silently on the floor. She ran her fingertips over the old wooden stake, and you could tell she was wondering what it might feel like to have it driven through her heart. She set it on her lap and looked up at you, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“And what if something befalls me?”

That was something you’d thought about before as well. She may have been unsusceptible to time, but she wasn’t so to the weapons the townsfolk brandished whenever they heard the name of the monster that lived over the hillside. Losing her would tear you apart, and you knew that, after all this time with her, you’d never be able to survive without her. That was a fact you’d long accepted.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out something so small you could hold it between two fingers. “Then I will follow you into the next life.”

The silver bullet shone in the candlelight, glistening as if to taunt you, knowing it was the only thing that would ever hurt you.

She beckoned you. You pocketed the small piece of metal once more, sitting down beside her as she brought you into her arms as if you were the most delicate material on the planet. That was how you stayed, knowing now that you would never have to live on a planet that didn’t have her, and she wouldn’t have to live without you. It was comforting in the most morning of ways. It seemed though, that was your normal: morbid and loving.

That was how you remained that day. She didn’t like you exerting yourself the day of a full moon. It kept you up all night and, if you didn’t rest the day before, you’d be worn when the sun came back up. She wouldn’t let that feeling of absolute exhaustion take over you. She could hardly remember how it even felt, having not rested for so many years, but she knew she didn’t like when you were uncomfortable.

You were only made aware of the time when the candle died out in front of you. You squirmed in her arms, kissing her cheek when she let you go. You peeked out the window to get the last glimpse of an orange sunset over the horizon. You couldn’t help but grin as you felt something tugging deep within your chest. You turned back toward the woman behind you, eyes already glowing with that golden shine when you did.

“My, is it time already?” She chuckled, rising from her seat so that she could run a hand lovingly down your cheek. “Let me know when we leave, my darling girl.”

You burst out the door just as that last glow of the sun finally faded out. The way your body bathed in the moonlight was addicting. You felt every last bit of human in you fade away, golden eyes reflecting that white orb in the sky as you watched it, morphing into that canine form that would make the townsfolk tremble in fear. The feeling of your body becoming who it was meant to be was indescribable, but it was so right.

You didn’t attempt to suppress the canine howl that erupted from your gut. It would have been unstoppable, and letting it out was like breathing out a breath that you’d been holding in all month. At the sound, too, she finally stepped through the front door, the sunlight that reflected off the moon not enough to hurt her in the way it did in the day. She took one look at you, eyes still so full of love even when you were in this form.

“You sound excited, love.”

You couldn’t have answered her if you wanted to.

The two of you tore off toward the town at a speed that would have had any regular person reeling. The doors were all shut and locked tight. You let her break down the first one. You approached, standing back and staring at hers, two sets of unnatural eyes locking in a passionate gaze. She smiled ever so gently before she moved forward, tearing the door off its hinges.

The screams from the couple inside only fueled you forward. You raced into the house, headed immediately for whatever beating heart she hadn’t already claimed. The man begging for life beneath you couldn’t have been more than twenty. He was pleading and sobbing and chanting his girl’s name, not knowing that yours had already killed her. You made sure to silence his cries.

Natalia was done long before you were. Even as you fed, you felt her eyes on you. It didn’t bother you. She never judged you, and she never would. How could she, being a monster herself? When you pulled away, blood coating your lips and cheeks, dripping down your neck and onto your chest, her pupils dilated a little. She moved forward, using her thumb to brush some of the blood off your cheek and putting it to her own lips.

“Shame. You taint that sweet taste,” she chuckled a little, letting you eye the red substance that was dripping down the corner of her mouth. “You are, however, still as beautiful as you are on any night.”

You wished you could kiss her right then, instead settling for the press of her forehead against yours. You could actually feel your heartbeat shift so that it drummed in time with hers. It was a long couple moments of that, her against you like you were the only two people in the entire world, before she finally pulled away. She smirked as she looked you up and down.

“Repulsive.”

You would have laughed.

The two of you moved through the village like that for a little longer, finding your next victim stupidly roaming the street at midnight on a full moon. You agreed to share the meal with the woman who’d actually been the one to catch it. You took a few steps back, watching as his face paled as Natalia drained the blood from his body. You could hardly believe how beautiful she looked. The moonlight hit every feature just right, illuminating her in a soft glow.

She stood when she’d finished, hand caressing your cheek as she did. “Had your fill yet, my darling?”

You shook your head no.

Neither of you had time, though, to go in search of your next meal. When you turned around, one of the townspeople was standing on the street, aiming a gun at you. You were cocky, at first, staring down the barrel knowing full well that no simple bullet would hurt you. When it whizzed toward you, though, and pierced your skin, ripping through your gut and shooting a searing pain through your body, you got considerably less cocky.

You watched as the woman who had been at your side flew forward and in one swift move, ended the life of the man in front of you. When you fell back, your eyes found the wound that was pushing your blood onto the cobblestone street below you. It was pooling, reflecting the moon above it. You felt blood starting to bubble up in your throat and you coughed violently.

You felt yourself being scooped into a strong set of arms. Her face looked blurry. Though, so did everything else. You could feel that you were moving so fast you were practically flying back toward home. You wondered if you would make it all that way, but it seemed that she was determined. You strained to keep awake, just for her. You weren’t successful.

The world wasn’t dark for long. Yet perhaps it was just that it didn’t feel long. When you blinked your eyes back open, red ones were watching you with such concern that all you wanted to do was kiss her worries away. Unfortunately for you, though, her worries were you. You didn’t have the strength to sit up and pull her toward you. You hardly had the strength to groan her name and let your hand travel over your own abdomen.

“Be careful, my love.”

You felt her hand cover yours in an attempt to bring your fingers away from the wound. You felt first that the skin beneath your fingertips was smooth. You’d morphed back into your human form at some point while you’d been unconscious. Then, you felt the dried blood that caked the area where you’d been shot. You whimpered at the tenderness of your own touch. A hand tugged on yours, bringing the pressure away from the area.

“Don’t touch.”

You squeezed her hand with all the energy you had. “Darling…”

“I know, Dove.”

Pain was searing throughout your body in a way you’d never experienced before. The bullet had not only pierced your body, but it was poisoning your blood in the way that only silver could. You groaned softly, clutching tight onto Natalia’s hand with all the strength that you could muster, which wasn’t a lot. Tears were streaking down her cheeks now, showing you an emotion that you didn’t often see on her face.

“Please,” you begged softly. “I cannot move on without you. I cannot leave you here to continue on without me.”

You immediately felt guilty for the effect of those words. She pulled you close, getting on her knees beside the bed and resting her head on your arm. You hushed her softly as a sob broke through her lips, the sound able to shatter your heart as if it were made from the finest glass known to man. You apologized as soft as you could, repeatedly and honestly. You beckoned her into the bed beside you.

You knew you were starting to fade. You could feel it. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. You could feel darkness looming in that place, waiting for you and waiting to punish you for every life you’d ever taken. That number was higher than you could count. You were shaking, sure the woman beside you could feel it against her body. You weren’t sure if it was a last effort of strength from your dying body, or a display of absolute terror to leave life behind.

“Natalia…”

“I am right here.”

You grabbed the front of her shirt in a weak fist, using gravity to help you in pulling her closer. At first, she thought you were trying to bring her lips onto hers. When she tried to kiss you, though, you shook your head, turning away. Face turned away from her, now, you had exposed a different part of your body to her. You guided her mouth down to her neck, whimpering as you felt her lips lightly brush the skin.

“No,” she refused. “You have the blood of a wolf. You could die.”

“Without it, I surely will,” you gasped, air feeling further away with each passing moment. “Please. Try.”

You could only feel it as she nodded. It was so carefully that she nuzzled against you, as if trying to memorize what your pulse felt like against her cheek. However tonight ended, that was something she’d very likely never feel again. You managed to hush her quietly as you felt a tremble run through her body. Her hand came to clutch yours as you finally felt her part her lips against your skin.

“Vile,” she muttered, and you felt a small smile grace her lips. “I love you, my darling.”

“As I you.”

With that, her fangs punctured your skin. The world went dark around you.

*

You were sore when you woke. Mostly it was in your neck. You swung your legs off the bed despite it, desperate to go find the woman who must have been worrying. You found her in the living room lighting a candle. She turned to you before you even had a second to clear your throat and try and get her attention. She was on you in an instant, peppering your face in soft kisses.

“You stayed with me,” she whispered.

“I could never imagine life or death without you, Natalia. I had to stay,” you chuckled, kissing her back briefly. “So, what am I?”

She shrugged. “The woman I love. Is that not what matters?”

You chuckled lightly. “Of course.”

She smiled, bringing you to her, resting her head against your chest. You wondered if your heart had stopped beating beneath her ear, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that you were with her, as alive as you needed to be. You couldn’t be in life without her, just as you couldn’t be in death without her. She was your everything, and nothing would be whole away from that.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt her hand slide. It moved down your arm, across your side and your hip until it had slipped into your pocket, pulling out that shining piece of metal that resided there. She rolled the bullet slowly between two fingers, glancing at it with deep interest before handing it back to you. You took it in one hand, your other staying on her.

“I do not think it will work,” she remarked softly. “I think we have forever.”

You tossed the bullet out the window into the light of the waning moon. She pulled away from you. You watched as she moved away and picked up the splintering wooden stake that leaned against the table, smiling once at you as she held it out. She turned away, tossing it upon the roaring flames in the fireplace; the wood catching quickly and becoming nothing but fuel.

“Forever,” you hummed as she moved back into your arms. “Forever with you would be beautiful.”

[princess-of-riviaa]

Wicked Rose

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Rosa Malvada (OFC)

Summary: Geralt is sent on a mission that sends him to the doorstep of vampire Rosa Malvada. Steamy smut insues.

Warning(s): dirty talk, biting kink, SMUT, blood, both characters are very dominant

Word Count: 3092

There were countless reasons to enjoy an immortal life. The power was intoxicating--there was no greater feeling than knowing you were the greatest threat in any given room. The access to knowledge that stretched across every part of the realm, the secrets that stayed trapped within country borders--all of it there for you to revel in. But the greatest thing of all, the thing that brought satisfaction even in the darkest of nights, was being the kind of monster everyone believed vampires to be.

A regular vampire proved to be a challenging opponent, even for a skilled warrior. The Higher Vampires were impossible to kill. With their wit and strength, they ran circles around mortal men. Not even the legendary witchers could end them; only a Higher Vampire could kill one of his brethren, which had only happened twice in all of history. And Rosa Malvada, Princess of the Higher Vampires, was the most feared and powerful of her entire clan.

Geralt of Rivia, the most famous witcher along the west coast, had been stalking her for three days now. He’d been careful, calculating every movement before he made it. It was cute, actually, how much effort he put into being stealthy. Little did he know Rosa had noted his presence within the first twenty minutes of his days-long hunt. She’d considered draining the blood from his body and burying him in some forgotten part of the woods. Who was he to think that a centuries-old Higher Vampire--a princess of their clan--wouldn’t note his presence? How dare he think she would fall into his trap! But she’d been curious. She’d never seen a witcher hunt, and it had been appealing enough that she’d played the part of a happily oblivious vampire, letting him follow her from town to town, never letting him realize that she was drawing him ever closer to her nest.

The night of the full moon, Geralt had decided to make his attack. He’d been smart enough to drink one of those witcher elixirs he kept on his body--a wise precaution she had to give him credit for. But even that magical potion couldn’t take her down. Not before she found out why he’d been hunting her. Not before she’d have her way with him.

His boots were near-silent as he strode through the abandoned halls of an ancient castle along the coast of Temeria. It had been Rosa’s home since an ancient royal family had decided to abandon it due to the rumors of an evil vampire lurking in the halls at night--a rumor that had proved true, since Rosa had been sloppy enough to leave behind a mess of the guards’ bodies she’d drunk from. The family had been so scared they left with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The belongings they’d left behind were now part of Rosa’s trove.

Geralt pulled out two swords from his back, careful to make his movements as silent as possible. His ears perked up at every breath of the wind. That witcher elixir had heightened his senses, Rosa realized, and if she wasn’t careful, her game of cat and mouse would come to an end much too soon. She watched from the shadows as he stopped at the end of a hallway. He looked like a mountain in all that black armor--a mountain she wanted to climb. The sight of him was distracting--

Until he cocked his head, a predator finally spotting his prey.

“The shadows won’t hide you from me.” He spoke in a whisper, but Rosa heard him perfectly, as if he’d whispered the words in her ear. Rosa stood in a corner of darkness, and with thirty feet of distance between them, she thought it would have been harder for him to spot her. She was impressed.

“What makes you think I’m hiding?” she purred in response, moving through the shadows so he could catch a glimpse of her blood-red eyes.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he admitted as he turned to face her. That perfect face was paler than usual, enough so the veins under the surface of his skin were visible. And those eyes--darker than the shadows that now cloaked Rosa. He was the pure embodiment of death.

Rosa had never wanted a man more.

“Then what are you doing here?” She forced her tone to remain clipped, despite the desire starting to pool between her thighs.

“A descendant of the family who once lived here,” he began. “He’s paid me to return a lost family crest to him.”

Over her dead body. “Everything within these walls belongs to me. If they wanted some family crest, their ancestors should have brought it with them before they fled this place.”

“I’ve been paid to finish the job,” he insisted.

“Whatever amount they’ve promised you, I’ll double it.” She had more than enough gold to spare. Make enough calculated kills, drink from the right kind of people, and inheriting chests of gold becomes as easy as breathing.

“Come out of the dark. Maybe I’ll consider your offer.”

“Drop those blades,” she compromised, “and I’ll go anywhere you want, Witcher.”

Metal clinked against stone, a riotous sound amongst the silence of the dead castle. Geralt’s hands went slack at his sides. It was a mirage. An act of relaxed calm hiding a hunter about to pounce.

Rosa was precise with her movements, careful to never move within his reach even as she evaded the cover of darkness. His eyes slid along her body so sensually that her body burned everywhere he looked. It was almost enough to get her to step towards him. Almost. She lifted her chin higher, confident in the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts that he now took in. Blood-red hair curled down her back, stark against the white dress she wore.

He sniffed audibly before muttering, “I didn’t know vampires could be aroused by anything other than blood.”

He could smell the lust dripping between her thighs. It only made her want him more, somehow.

She retorted, “I didn’t realize witchers could be so attractive.”

Silence filled the air as they stared at each other, both resisting the urge to close the distance between them and take what they both were craving.

“Afraid to want a monster, Witcher?” she taunted.

A warning growl was the only response he gave.

“I’ll pay you to leave empty-handed tonight, to return to the man who paid you and insist that this precious family crest no longer exists.” She took half a step towards him--the only amount of distance she dared to close between them. “I’ll pay you in gold. Or, if there’s another form of payment you’d prefer, I’d happily let you indulge in that too.” The smile that tugged at her lips was flirtatious. It only grew as Geralt’s gaze dropped to her mouth, those darkened pupils missing nothing.

He was silent. A man of few words. That was fine--Rosa would be sure to fill the silence as he filled her tonight.

She spread her arms. An open invitation. All he had to do was take it. “Come on, Geralt. Take what we both want.”

Still, he hesitated.

“Would you prefer it if I beg?” she wondered.

He pounced. Half a second passed before he had her pressed against the wall, her back pressed tightly against his chest. She ground her ass into his hard-on. Oh, fuck. The stories of a witcher’s girth weren’t just stories. One of his hands moved to her hip, grinding her body against his erection, while the other tugged hard enough on her hair to force her to look up and back at him.

“I’d like to hear you beg,” he growled.

Yeah, right. She dug her elbow into his stomach hard enough to make his grip loosen on her. A second later he was the one trapped against the wall. She held onto his wrists with a grip so tight not even a witcher’s strength could get him out.

“Sorry, darling, but I don’t beg for anyone.”

Before he could say anything, she licked up the column of his throat. His witcher heart was slow, but his pulse still made her toes curl. She longed to know what he tasted like, longed to know if he tasted better than he would feel when he was balls-deep inside of her.

The sensation of her tongue on his skin made a low growl elicit from the back of his throat, a sound so intoxicating that Rosa did, for a moment, contemplate begging him to fuck her if she had to. She needed this man inside of her, needed him to mark her up and fuck her so well she couldn’t walk right for a day afterwards.

“You don’t beg?” Geralt's voice was a low timber in her ear, making her shiver with arousal. And then his hand was around her throat while the other one went to the sensitive mound between her legs. “Then you’ve never had a Witcher fuck you.”

A moan fell from her lips before she could stop it. Her body was pure reaction now; there was no more room for her pride to decide what she would do. She was merely a reaction to every move Geralt made. She was at his mercy.

In one flash of movement Geralt picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her off through the castle like game he’d just proudly hunted down. He stopped at what was once the duke’s quarters, but had been Rosa’s quarters for centuries now. The room was filled with piles of clothes, books, and gold. Crimson sheets were thrown about the bed on the far wall, which was where Geralt strode for now. He was gentle as he set her down but the look in his eyes was wild and ravenous. She had no doubt her eyes held the same kind of animalistic hunger.

“Ever fucked a vampire before?” she questioned as she sat up and started untying his breeches.

“No,” was his simple reply, his voice a deep, rumbling baritone that made Rosa’s stomach knot with need.

She pulled down his breeches enough for his cock to spring free and--wow. Whether it was the Witcher mutation or Geralt had been blessed by the gods themselves, Rosa didn’t particularly care. Not as her mouth literally watered at the site of his thick, long cock, already glistening with precum. Dark curls swirled around the base of his shaft. A thin vein ran along the length of his cock from base to tip and she practically moaned. She wrapped her hand around his length, softly caressing the velvet of his sensitive skin as she began to jerk him off. He growled in approval. It wasn’t long before her skilled hand had him bucking his hips, desperate for her to increase her pace so he could cum. But she continued her slow assault on his throbbing cock, enamored by the look on his face as she teased him. Precum continued to fall from his tip. It mixed with her hand to make a sinful squelching noise. That, along with Geralt’s grunts and growls, was the only sound in the room.

Rosa finally pulled her hand away when she decided she’d tortured the Witcher long enough. His eyes were lidded, heavy with lust, but they widened with arousal as he watched her lick up every last drop of the precum on her hand. With a growl that promised her unbecoming, he splayed a large hand on her stomach and pushed her back. He climbed over her as she relaxed against the bed. His right leg instantly moved between her own, his knee finding a home against her aching pussy.

“My turn,” he growled before moving to hover over her heat.

“Wait,” she called out, her body already humming with intense heat. “You really want to get me off?”

The look in his golden eyes was answer enough.

“Then let me drink from you.” Her voice was breathy, too overcome with lust to sound normal anymore.

He paused, and that lust in his eyes was replaced by a look of distrust.

“I won’t drink too much,” she promised. “But for a vampire, drinking a partner’s blood while being intimate with them is better than anything else. It’ll make me cum long before eating me out will.”

“Which vein is best?” Geralt asked in a low, curious voice, but there was still hesitancy written all over his face.

“The closer to the heart, the better,” she admitted. “Anywhere would do, but blood from the heart, or anywhere around it…” She closed her eyes as she thought about the intoxicating taste of blood straight from the heart. It had been a long time since she’d let herself indulge in it, since tasting blood that sweet normally sent vampires into a frenzy. But the memory of that nectar on her lips made her legs clench, it was that good.

“You stop when I tell you to,” Geralt demanded. His tone was stern, but he was giving in. Indulging her.

Her heart began to beat faster at the thought of drinking from him. “And if I don’t?” Rosa wondered, opening her eyes to look at him again.

The answer to her question was written in his eyes. If she didn’t stop, if she gave in to the monster inside of her, he’d kill her.

“As you wish,” she complied.

He reached a hand towards her. For a second she thought he was reaching for her neck, wanting to pull her towards him for a kiss, but his hand stopped between her breasts, at the dress still covering them. A second later and the dress was torn to shreds, her breasts falling free. Her nipples were already hard from arousal and a low sound of approval fell from Geralt as he observed it. His eyes scanned the rest of her body with hunger.

“Your turn,” she demanded, longing to see his body in all of its naked, muscled glory.

He rose to his feet and began undressing, teasing her as he moved slowly. All she had to do was spread her legs and one look at the sight of her glistening folds made him rush his movements. His body was a glorious maze of muscles and scars--a picture perfect warrior. Dark curls that matched the hair around his cock swirled around his chest and trailed a path down his stomach. An ancient kind of power and strength radiated off of him. Gods, did she want this man inside of her.

Geralt gave her only a few seconds to take in his naked form before he was on top of her, his mouth devouring hers. His tongue was hungry and demanding as it pushed past her lips and collided with her own. She moaned into his mouth as he ground her hips against hers, his cock rubbing against her clit and sending electricity through her veins. Her arousal spiked, and suddenly she could feel her fangs coming out, and before Geralt could break the kiss, she bit his bottom lip. They both moaned--him at the sensation of being bit for the first time, surprised that it could be so arousing for the victim; and her because his Witcher blood was the finest wine she’d ever tasted. Her legs clenched around his hips as she swallowed the first drop of his blood.

It was then that he chose to plunge deep into her folds. She released a cry of pleasure that made the walls shake. Her walls squeezed around him as he continued to enter her, his cock going ever deeper and farther inside of her. Geralt muttered something in a language Rosa didn’t recognize, but she got the message clear enough from the tone: he was loving this as much as she was. The pain of his cock splitting her open was a welcome hurt. It turned her on and made her walls clench even tighter around his length, which only made his growls and moans deepen.

“Fuck me, Witcher,” she cried out.

He obliged her. His hips began to move at an exhilarating rate and the sensation of his cock penetrating her at such an inhuman speed threw her over the edge in a matter of moments. She threw her head back as she cried out, her fangs only elongating further as she came around his unrelenting cock.

Even after the waves of ecstasy calmed inside of her, Geralt didn’t stop fucking her. His hands had moved to her hips in a deathly grip. She was sure to have bruises from where he held her.

“Let me drink from you,” she cried out.

Without even stopping his thrusts, he tilted his head to the side, inviting her to suck at his throat. She pulled him closer to her and clamped her mouth around the soft skin of his throat, letting her fangs break the skin slowly. His movements became sloppy as she began to drink from him, as if it were as much a turn on for him as it was for her. She drank mouthful after mouthful of his sweet nectar. Her entire body lit on fire as they attacked each other, her with her mouth, and him with his cock. This was how she wanted to die, she decided--her mouth around his throat, him balls deep inside of her. It was the closest to heaven she’d ever get.

Geralt let out a broken moan as his cock spasmed inside of her. A second later his hot seed poured inside of her, dripping down her legs and onto the bed. Geralt came longer than most men did, which must have been another aspect of the Witcher mutation, but she loved it, reveled in every second of it. And when he was done, he collapsed on top of her. She pulled her mouth back and forced her fangs to retract. Blood dripped down his neck and dried on his shoulder.

“I didn’t realize you had a biting kink,” she murmured minutes later.

“Neither did I.” He was on his back beside her now, his eyes closed and a droopy smile on his face.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” she said, admiring the few of a Witcher fucked out beside her.

He let out a humm of agreement, and then his breaths deepened and slowed. She fell asleep beside him, a smile plastered onto her face. It was the best sleep she’d had in decades.

[lesbianrobin]

What do you think are the good and bad aspects of each season of ST?

ok 1. thank u for this question omg and 2. this answer may or may not be a mess, but either way it’s long (almost 7k words lmao) bc i’m insane, which is why it’s under a cut. it’s still by no means an exhaustive list but these are the things that just kinda came to mind.

also i realize you asked “good and bad” and i wrote this whole post as “strengths and weaknesses” which um. is not Exactly what you asked. but close enough <3 i also ended up including a lot of au ideas ksjdckmn bc like i personally hate when people say a certain plot or whatever was bad without suggesting anything that could have improved it yknow so whenever possible i tried to provide Some idea for fixing the issues i had with the show!!

season 1

strengths (this is probably gonna be the longest section but that’s because a lot of these strengths also apply to s2/s3 by default)

nostalgia and authenticity

this one’s pretty simple, but i think that season one did a good job of blending classic eighties media homages (such as the many many e.t./el parallels) with explicit pop culture references (such as mike’s yoda impression, mentions of the x-men, etc) to create a show that’s essentially dripping in early eighties nostalgia without it feeling too forced. before st, i think the most popular depiction of the eighties in mainstream media was that overly exaggerated neon scrunchie aesthetic from the mid to late eighties, and it was usually done in a comedic sense first and foremost. st took a different approach, instead focusing on the early eighties, a time that’s often ignored in favor of going either Full Seventies or Full Eighties, and i think that this choice likely resonated with adults who lived through the eighties and hadn’t yet seen something that felt quite so accurate to their own adolescence. a lot of young people who watched st were totally unfamiliar with this period of time, unfamiliar with books/movies like “stand by me” that st borrows from heavily, and i think st lent more seriousness to the eighties than most young people had experienced so far, and this was refreshing and interesting!

the use of dnd in the show is also quite genius in a way i’m not sure i can articulate?? it isn’t something Everyone would have played at the time, but it’s something that existed within a different context back in the eighties than it does today, and it really lent a sort of authenticity to the naming of the show’s sci-fi elements. like, of course these kids would name parallel dimensions and monsters and superpowers after these similar things in their favorite game! it just feels so real and it grounds st in our reality moreso than you might expect from the typical sci-fi or horror universe.

utilization of existing tropes

almost every single character in st clearly originates from some popular trope. the plot itself is riddled with classic eighties movie tropes. almost every single element of stranger things can be clearly traced back to some iconic eighties film or just to, like, overused horror/sci-fi/mystery/coming-of-age movie tropes in general. this might sound like a bad thing, but it really works in st’s favor! starting off with familiar tropes gives st the ability to easily create a lot of complexity and make a big impact by selectively deviating from those familiar, comfortable tropes!! while el’s whole plot, hopper’s character, etc, are all examples of this in action, i think the steve/nancy/jonathan plot is the greatest example. even from the start, the fact that good girl barb dies while nancy is off having sex with her asshole boyfriend is an incredibly thorough inversion of the most well-known horror movie trope in the book. how often do girls in horror movies have sex for the first time, walk home alone in the dark of night, and live to tell the tale? nancy and jonathan’s dynamic at first glance is a sort of classic “good girl meets boy from the wrong side of the tracks, discovers he’s actually got a heart of gold” thing, but instead of following this well-trodden path, st diverged. nancy is brash, impulsive, and at times downright insensitive. jonathan is angry, bitter, and actually a bit of a creep at first. while they have the capacity to emotionally connect and support one another, they can also bring out each other’s darker side, which is not what we’ve come to expect from that initial tropey dynamic.

in addition, steve, the popular rich asshole boyfriend, is actually... a human being! unlike the cartoonishly evil jocks that we’ve come to expect (especially from eighties movies), steve has complexity. despite his initial immaturity and selfishness, he’s also kind to barb, he backs off when nancy says no, he’s gentle and sweet when they sleep together, his first big Dick Move of the season is in defense of nancy, he realizes the error of his ways after the fight and does what he can to fix it, he’s worried about nancy when he sees that she’s hurt at jonathan’s house, and to top it all off, he ends up saving both nancy and jonathan’s lives when he could have just walked away, and the three of them all work together to fight the demogorgon. like... steve began as the most stereotypical character of all time, and by the end of the season, he had one of the most compelling and unique arcs among the whole cast!

finally, at the very end of the season, instead of dumping steve for jonathan as expected, nancy ends up getting back together with steve, and they’re both on friendly terms with jonathan. i realize that i just kinda. summarized s1. but my POINT is that i don’t think the dynamics between the monster hunting trio would be nearly as fun and interesting had the characters of nancy, steve, and jonathan not been set up to follow certain paths that we already had charted in our own heads. like, within the first couple episodes of s1, it’s pretty obvious that nancy and steve are gonna break up, nancy will get with jonathan, and steve will either die or go full evil or just never be seen again. like, duh! you’ve seen this story a million times! you know that’s how it’s gonna go! so, when the story DOESN’T go that way, the impact of each character’s arc and the relationship dynamics become stronger due to their unexpected complexity and authenticity. 

distinct plotlines separated by age group

this one’s rather obvious, but the way that the adults in s1 were essentially in a conspiracy thriller while the teens were in a horror flick and the kids were in a sci fi power-of-friendship story and all three converged at the end... wow. brilliant showstopping etc. not only was it just really well done and unique, it also gave stranger things near-universal appeal. like, there’s genuinely something for pretty much everyone in season one!

casting

obviously this applies to every season sorta by default, but when i think about what made season one So successful, i always think about the cast, and not just winona ryder. yes, she’s absolutely amazing in the show and it’s very doubtful that st would be as big as it is today without her name being attached to it from the start!! however, i think the greatest determining factor in st’s success is the casting of the kids, particularly millie bobby brown. like... el is just absolutely incredible. she’s amazing. this has all been said many times before so i won’t harp on it, but millie and the other kids are all So talented and charismatic and i think their casting has been instrumental to the show’s success.

strong visuals

the way that multicolored christmas lights which have been around for decades are now kinda like. a Stranger Things thing. jesus christ. those lights are probably the biggest stroke of stylistic genius on the show.

atmosphere and setting

this is probably like. the least important one here for me sdjncdsc because i think s2 and s3 both had like Even Better atmospheres and shit but s1 was good too and it laid the groundwork!! i know a lot of people would have preferred st be set somewhere more Spooky with lots of fog or giant forests or whatnot, and while i do enjoy thinking about alternate st settings and how they might alter the vibe, i think hawkins indiana was a good choice. as the duffers have said, placing stranger things in a fictional town allows them more flexibility than if they’d gone with their original plan of using montauk, new york. besides that, i think the plainness and like... flatness... of small-town indiana just Works. like, the fact that hawkins is never really scary on the surface is a big part of the horror in the lab’s actions and their impact. hawkins isn’t somewhere that people just disappear all the time. it isn’t somewhere known for strange occurrences (prior to s1, that is). it isn’t somewhere shrouded in mist and secrecy. hawkins on its surface seems like the sort of place with no secrets and nothing to fear, and that’s the point! the lab is out in the open! it’s right there! everything is so close to the surface, yet so far out of the public eye, and i think that really works.

the byers family’s whole deal (specifically the joyce/jonathan dynamic)

this is going here bc i miss it so bad in s2 and s3. i’m not one of those people who believe The Byers Are The Whole Point of the show, because st is and always has been an ensemble, and el, hopper, and the wheelers are just as instrumental to the plot as the byers, but ANYWAY, i do think the byers were one of the most interesting aspects of s1. joyce’s difficulties with supporting her sons as a poor and (implied mentally ill) single mother, jonathan’s stress as a result of having to earn money, care for his brother, and keep the house in order when his mother is unable to do so, and the resulting tension between them when will’s disappearance and supposed “death” brings the situation to a tipping point? holy shit! it’s so good! that argument after they see will’s “body” is just incredible and gut-wrenching. their relationship feels so real and messy and i think it’s just... good. also winona ryder REALLY acted her heart out and she carried a lot of s1 which i think people often forget to mention so i’m saying it here.

weaknesses

pacing/timing

ok so pacing is probably going to go in each season’s weaknesses, to be honest, because i think they all had a blend of some good and some bad pacing. good pacing is invisible pacing, though, so i probably won’t be putting it in any of the strengths sections and will only be focusing on it in the weaknesses. i’m also probably not going to talk about weird day/night cycle things, just because i don’t want to get nitpicky on timelines because that would require going back and rewatching things to double check timing which i don’t wanna do at the moment lmao. anyway, when i think of bad pacing in season one, i primarily think of two things: nancy’s little trip into the upside down and subsequent sleepover with jonathan, and the sort of staggered nature of the climax in the final episode. the latter is simple so i’ll explain it first: while i understand that each group’s respective climax is like part of a chain reaction and that’s why each big moment happens separately and at different times, i think that st is strongest when the whole group is together, and i think that makes the stakes feel higher too, so i’m not In Love with the way s1 separated everyone and gave each group their own climax. 

okay, now on to the nancy/upside down thing! idk if i’ve ever talked about it before, but i think the worst decision made in s1 by far is the inclusion of nancy’s brief trip into the upside down, wherein she dives headfirst into another dimension with absolutely no backup, watches the demogorgon chow down, freaks out and runs around for a minute, and then leaves. like... what the fuck? even putting aside what an idiotic decision this was (because i do think nancy’s tendency to rush into things headfirst is an intentional and consistent character trait), it just kind of destroys any remaining suspense surrounding the demogorgon and the upside down, and it accomplishes basically nothing besides scaring nancy enough to have jonathan sleep over, which is lame. i will break it down.

like, first of all, nancy just getting to waltz in and out of the upside down and get a good, long look at the demogorgon makes the entire thing far less mysterious, and by extension far less scary. like... before this scene, we the audience haven’t got a good look at the demogorgon. we’ve seen its silhouette briefly and we’ve seen a blurry picture of it, but nothing more, and i think that is far more effective at building fear than this jaunt nancy goes on which gives us a full view of the thing and makes it into less of a horrifying nightmare and into more of a humanoid animal. like, maybe this is just me, but i found the demogorgon far less intimidating after that scene than before. it also lets nancy and jonathan know For Sure that they’re right without providing any crucial information that they need to fight the demogorgon (aka it’s unnecessary to the plot), which removes a very compelling story element (the faith nancy and jonathan need to have in order to keep going against a vague and poorly understood enemy, the doubt they might have about each other and their own sanity, the possibility that they might be wrong, the trust they need to have in each other) a bit earlier in the plot than i believe is ideal. at the end of episode 5, nancy goes into the upside down and jonathan doesn’t know where she is and it’s intense!!! you’re thinking like, oh fuck, not only is nancy missing and fighting for her life now too, jonathan might be implicated in her disappearance!! some people already think he’s the one who killed will and people know that he took creepy pictures of barb and nancy before they both disappeared, maybe this is gonna cause some serious problems for him!! maybe nancy will find will in the upside down and she’ll help him survive!! fuck, maybe she’ll actually die!! this is huge!! and then episode 6 starts and they’re immediately like oh nevermind jonathan found the tree and got nancy out and she’s fine. my point with all of this is that nancy entering the upside down could have done A Lot in the grand scheme of the plot, but all it did was just... get jonathan to sleep over so he and nancy could have some awkward romance moments and steve could see them together and pick a fight. which could have honestly happened at Any point while nancy and jonathan were working together to hunt down the demogorgon, without ruining the demogorgon’s and the upside down’s mystique. so yeah <3

weird behavior and dumbass decisions that make no sense (aka the whole camera thing)

gonna go off about the teen plot again sorry but: why was nancy so unbothered and quick to forgive jonathan for taking those pictures? girl what the fuck are you doing? why wasn’t that a bigger deal? why was jonathan’s motivation for doing it so weak and why did they just kind of forget about the whole thing? why did nancy TRACK HIM DOWN AT THE FUNERAL HOME while he was PICKING OUT HIS BABY BROTHER’S CASKET to be like hey can you tell me what’s in this creepshot you took? it’s insane. it’s so insane. i mean i think the funeral home thing is hilarious and i don’t mind it being in the show necessarily but like my point here is that i think a lot of character decisions in s1 just kind of.. happened because they Needed to happen for the plot. like, they wrote this plot that required jonathan to be secretly taking pictures of the party and required him and nancy to work together after seeing something odd in the pictures, but they didn’t like... really consider what that event would mean for their characterization and relationship. the whole thing was sort of just dropped with minimal discussion and i think it did both nancy and jonathan’s characters a disservice and was really mishandled.

lighting and saturation/color grading

i am literally begging horror/sci-fi shows to let me see shit. i GET IT okay i understand that when you’re doing cgi effects it helps to keep the lights down and i’m not mad at any of the lighting in the demogorgon/upside down scenes!! i’m really not i think the demogorgon scenes in s1 all look sick!! but like... dude. the colors. where are they. why does everyone look like a vampire. i know blah blah this was probably an intentional stylistic choice intended to mimic film at the time blah blah but dude a lot of old movies are very colorful!! please just let people have color in their faces so everyone doesn’t look like a sheet of paper!!! also i’m white and not a professional lighting designer so yknow grain of salt but i think lucas was kinda poorly served by the lighting sometimes in s1. not Hugely so, not to the degree that i’ve seen poc be poorly served by lighting in other shows, but there were some times where it felt kinda like the lighting setup was just not designed with darker skin in mind. 

horror

i just personally don’t find s1 very scary like... ever. i don’t think they were really Trying to be extremely scary yknow so i’m not counting this as a big deal, but i do think that each season has improved on the horror aspects. i think s1′s horror lies more in the mystery and the unknown than in what’s seen onscreen, and as i’ve said already, i think s1 kind of fumbled that suspense ball.

season 2

strengths

the possession plot

i’ll warn u rn this whole s2 strengths section is probably gonna be really short bc idk like. how much there is to really say i feel like it’s all so self-explanatory skjncmn. anyway yeah the possession plot!! eerie as fuck, and noah OWNED. so did winona tbh and finn and sean etc but like. noah. wow! i think the possession plot helped the show maintain a good amount of tension and suspense throughout the season, and a lot of scenes with possessed!will are flatout disturbing to watch. in a good way. i think the mindflayer and will’s possession were far more genuinely frightening than s1′s demogorgon, and it provided a new layer of depth and intrigue to the antagonist besides just “bad monster want eat people.”

tone and aesthetics

halloween season... literally halloween season. halloween season. that is all.

actually i will elaborate a bit and just say that i think s2 did a good job of having the sort of foreboding vibe that s1 was often going for, but without the annoying darkness and desaturation. so points for that.

also st2 is like one of the best Autumn pieces of media ever like it just. like steve and dustin on those train tracks with the fallen leaves all around them.... god. god the vibes are unparalleled. all of the halloween stuff also really contributes to the nostalgia st runs on yknow it makes you think about childhood and trick-or-treating and you kind of get transported like damn... i remember going to the rich neighborhoods to score the good candy..... idk i just think the whole thing is incredibly effective. 

“babysitter” steve

by sending nancy and jonathan off together, the show created a problem: what to do with steve? this problem pushed them to create the unconventional and unexpected duo of steve and dustin, and the world is so much brighter for it. seriously though we all know steve and dustin are great i don’t need to argue that point. all i’ll add is that i think allowing steve to grow in this way, serving as a mentor figure and becoming genuine friends with someone so unexpected, really took the originality of his character to the next level. no longer content just to defy his archetype, in s2 steve begins branching out in ways that never would have been considered in s1, creating an incredibly complex and interesting person from the sort of character that most shows would have simply written out or killed off for convenience’s sake. and it works and steve and dustin are such a joy to watch and i love them. <3

the lucas/max plot

so first of all max mayfield is the most perfect baby girl on god’s green earth and idk what i would do without her but anyway. i think lumax is the best romantic relationship in the show and not just because they’re the only ones with like an age-appropriate approach to the whole thing. it’s also because their relationship accomplishes more than just putting the two of them in a relationship!! lucas and max spending time together motivates billy to do his evil shit, providing more conflict in the narrative, and it also helps establish max as part of the group in a relatively natural way while giving both her and lucas a great subplot. lucas (and dustin) has a crush on the new girl, they start spending some time together, and lucas ends up needing to decide whether he’ll keep the secret of the upside down and lose her, or risk both of their lives by telling her the truth. that’s a pretty big, character-defining decision that he gets to make!! max has to choose whether to trust this boy she barely knows and endanger herself, or to walk away and stay safe, yet another great character-defining choice that also contributes to the sense we get as an audience of max as somebody who’s incredibly lonely and desperate for love and connection. this post is way too long already and i have a ton more to say so i’ll stop now but yeah i think lumax really Works in the show without ever distracting or detracting from the overall plot and narrative in the way that some other ships (coughjancycough) often do.

balance between the normal and abnormal

s2 i think did a pretty solid job of melding daily life with more fantastical sci-fi horror elements. i enjoyed seeing so much of the kids at school in the first few episodes!! you really get a strong sense of where they’re at in life, what their daily lives are like, and you get a sort of gradual shift into madness that makes everything feel more grounded than i think it would if they had just leapt straight into the horror shit, yknow? 

the el and hopper dynamic

go back and rewatch s2 and tell me that’s not one of the most moving portrayals of parenthood and trauma and growing up that you’ve ever seen. you can’t. or well you can but i won’t listen. i really can’t imagine stranger things without el and hopper’s relationship, and it’s my absolute favorite part of s2. their whole dynamic is so beautiful and complex, and gives them each amazing personal arcs in addition! the black hole scene is literally one of the show’s greatest moments of all time. any given scene between the two of them in s2 is just guaranteed to be heartwarming as well as heartbreaking, and i think that makes for an incredible show.

weaknesses

flashbacks

okay this applies to Every season they All have too many flashbacks but in s2 specifically... please stop showing me shit from season one. i watched it. i know what happened. you don’t need to spoon feed everything to me!! flashbacks can be a really helpful way of delivering information to an audience, but st has a bad habit of not only being kinda demeaning in how often they flash back to shit that the audience already knows, but they also have a bad habit of using flashbacks almost as a crutch to avoid having to deliver information subtly and naturally. 

you know i gotta say it... the lost sister

this is so sad. the lost sister really is like a great concept for an st episode, and i’m not mad about the idea of st taking a break from the normal action to focus on one story for a full episode, but the execution of it was just dreadful. kali and her crew feel very over-the-top and stereotypical, and its placement in the season totally kills the tension and excitement that was built in “the spy.” 

i think the lost sister honestly could have gone over far better, even with the stereotypical fake-feeling gang kali has, if they had just swapped it with “the spy” like... ok, the end of episode five has el setting off to find kali and will collapsing on the ground seizing. right? imagine if, instead of immediately following will to the lab, we’d followed el. we don’t know what’s happening with will, but it’s a very simple cliffhanger that leaves us on edge without making us feel cheated by the show cutting away. we follow el on her little journey, everything happens much the same as canon, and then at the end, el sees hopper in scrubs. she sees mike, screaming, sees that they’re both in danger. holy shit!!! what the fuck!!! what’s happened since we left will seizing on the ground??? we feel el’s fear and confusion. she decides to go home. and then... boom. “the lost sister” is over. now, we rewind, right back to will seizing on the ground, and “the spy” commences. we learn how they got into the danger that el saw in the end of “the lost sister,” and we sit on the edge of our seats all through “the spy” and “the mind flayer,” KNOWING that el is on her way back to save them but not knowing when she’ll arrive!! idk i don’t think that would have necessarily saved lost sister but i think it may have alleviated some of the issues that i and many others have with it, timing-wise.

the nancy/jonathan sidequest

once again, the idea of nancy going off on her own little mission to find justice for barb after s1 is like. amazing. genuinely i love that plot for her and i can’t imagine anything better for her to have focused on in s2. unfortunately though i think her and jonathan’s little trip to see murray was just kind of... lame. the whole thing just felt like an excuse to get the two of them alone together, yknow? which is fine i guess people contrive all sorts of situations to get characters alone together for romance reasons but in this case i think it just really doesn’t work for me because of what it’s juxtaposed with. like, will is POSSESSED, and jonathan is just off on a mini road trip and sleeping with his bestie, and jonathan never seems to communicate to joyce/will that he left town, and joyce never like... thinks to tell him that will is like sick and fucked up and they’re looking at him in the lab??? like it’s so weird i know joyce always forgets about jonathan when shit’s happening with will but jfc you’d think at some point in that like... 72-ish-hour period where jonathan was out of town she would have thought about him. like at least once. maybe i’m forgetting something and she mentioned him sometime and i missed it but even still, i hate the juxtaposition of nancy and jonathan just like cheers-ing at murray’s place and sleeping together and whatnot while everyone else is dealing with possession or trying to hunt down dart yknow? it feels really boring in comparison and i think it could have been done far better. like it was SO insanely easy for them to get into the lab and get an admission of guilt and escape with it!! i think it might have been a lot more engaging if maybe someone from the lab tailed them to murray’s place and they had to like lose the tail and race to get the recording out to as many news outlets as possible before they got caught, or something like that. the tension in their plotline is completely resolved in episode four!! episodes five and six are just them screwing around and addressing envelopes. while there were a lot of strong ideas in this plotline (i really enjoy nancy going out of her way to get justice, and the fact that they have to water down the story to make it believable), i just think the focus on nancy and jonathan getting together hindered it a lot without adding a ton to the plot or their individual characters.

season 3

strengths

starcourt mall as a setting

while i don’t think the mall was utilized quite to its full potential (something i could make a separate post about if anyone’s interested), i do think that starcourt was a genius addition to the series. i’ve said this before, but building a new mall is a literal Perfect in-universe justification for a significant leap forward in fashion and aesthetics, and it provides a great location for characters to just... be characters. idk how else to articulate this i just think that the mall is a great setting to let people interact with each other and to bring people together who may not have been otherwise (i.e. scoops troop). not to mention how sick it was to see the mall get wrecked toward the end kdjncdkm like they were able to do so much more with the mall in terms of like The Finale than they could with just the byers house or the cabin or the school or even the lab. i love all the back tunnels they run through it’s such a fun like acknowledgement of how this glitzy eighties mall is just a real place where employees get shipments and take out the trash and shit idk it’s all about the perfect facade and what’s hidden what’s underneath what’s hiding in plain sight etc etc i’m just saying words now. anyway. 

willingness to experiment and go against expectations

gay robin. neon aesthetics. giant fucking meat monster. i know some people hate both the neon and the meat monster but i personally think they were kind of amazing and like. yknow regardless of personal tastes i think it’s impossible to deny that s3 had a lot of incredible visuals, and they’re all visuals that just wouldn’t have been possible if the show were too afraid to stray from its s1 aesthetic. robin being canonically gay (and her resulting friendship with steve) and the season’s striking visuals are two things that most everyone (besides like homophobes skjncdknm) can agree were great, right? and they were both departures from where the show began and what we all expected!! so yeah i think while some of the experimentation in s3 wasn’t ideal it was also that experimentation that allowed for some of the season’s strongest elements to come about.

the hospital sequence (and the season’s action/horror scenes in general)

this one is fairly self-explanatory. while they may have underutilized the “body snatching” element of the season, the hospital sequence with nancy and jonathan fighting off their possessed bosses did an amazing job of building tension and creating a genuine sense of really intense and personal danger.

in general i think that s3 melded action and horror rather well, particularly in the sauna test, the hospital, and when the mindflayer busts through the roof of hop’s cabin. horror can come from many things, and in this case, st elicited horror largely from the feeling of helplessness, and it was really effective for me personally. i think it worked better for me than s1′s brand of horror because it doesn’t rely so much on a lack of knowledge or a sense of suspense that inevitable disappears upon a second viewing.

the body horror we got in s3 was also really fun! that’s it i just think all the blood and guts and slime were fun and i would like more of them. once again, the impacts of body horror are less dependent upon the viewer being in the dark or unsure as to what’s happening, and as such i think it tends to be a little more effective at eliciting reaction in the long term.

timing and mechanics of the battle of starcourt/finale

i think the battle of starcourt is just fucking awesome, and beyond that personal opinion, i think it’s the most high-stakes and intense finale of all three seasons, and this is for two main reasons! 1. el is out of commission, and 2. (almost) everyone is in the same cental location. this means that (almost) everyone is in danger all at once, and they are all working together at the same time to fight the same threat. s1/s2 have their groups more fragmented for the finales, and while i understand why in each case and i wouldn’t call either season’s finale necessarily weak, i do think the centralized nature of the s3 finale just Works on another level. in s1 and s2, large segments of the cast are already perfectly safe by the time el dispatches the primary threat. in s3, however, everybody save for dustin and erica is still in danger up until the last moment, and el is seemingly (you can def debate how much power she still had in her when she peeked into billy’s mind and whether the memory broke the mindflayer’s hold on him or if she was actually controlling him to some degree) completely vulnerable. this increases the tension and raises the stakes, making the finale a real crescendo to fortissimo as opposed to a series of little mezzo forte moments. i hope everyone reading this knows music idk how else to phrase that my brain is stupid.

emphasis on friendship and adolescence (but in a different way than s1/2)

this is definitely a controversial one but i think that s3 really did like... show a side of friendship that had been more or less unexplored thus far in the show. el and max were amazing, and i think it’s really nice that we got an opportunity to see the kids have some growing pains as well as see them support each other through Normal Adolescent Stuff like boyfriends and breakups instead of just like. death and trauma. this is maybe just a personal preference, but i think it can be really enlightening and provide a lot of depth when you get to see how characters respond to normal everyday conflict and not just how they respond to giant world-ending conflict!! letting el use her powers for goofy teenage shit like spying on boys and messing with mean girls at the mall is not only fun for her and the audience, but it also really emphasizes just how much those powers are a part of el, making it that much more devastating when she loses them at the end of the season. 

weaknesses

tonal dissonance

so this is like. obvious. but it must still be said! i won’t go on and on about it since we all know this so i’ll try to like talk about it from an angle people don’t usually? anyway. it seems to me like they were maybe a little worried about s3 being too dark. while the choice to really lean into humor was definitely driven by the sorts of eighties teen films from which s3 drew inspiration (like fast times at ridgemont high), i think it was also done in an attempt to alleviate the more troubling implications of some events in the season, particularly the russian bunker plot. like, yeah, st can be incredibly dark, but if they’d played the whole “children being stuck inside of a foreign military base, tied up, tortured, and drugged” thing completely straight without the humorous elements that exist in canon, it had the potential to be like... disturbing on a new level. steve and robin don’t have powers like el yknow their kidnapping/torture doesn’t have any sci-fi elements to sorta soften the blow. they’re just innocent teenagers being brutalized and traumatized by grown men. so anyway yeah i think maybe the writers were concerned about this storyline coming off as too dark and they wanted it to be a little more whimsical but they ended up pushing way too hard in that direction and creating extreme dissonance at times. this goes for joyce/hopper/murray/alexei too, but to a lesser extent. i think the ridiculousness in that group felt a lot more like... realistic. but still. 

newspaper plot

once again i feel like i don’t even need to say this skjdncmn we all know it was insane how the show basically ended up delivering the message “while misogyny is a serious problem poverty and classism are not” and i’ve said it on this blog a million times so i don’t need to repeat myself. i’ll focus on another weak point of this plot: the fact that it completely separates nancy and jonathan from everyone else. once again, the show’s preoccupation with j/ancy held them back! like... can you imagine a version of s3 where nancy and jonathan both worked in the mall? i have a lot of ideas about this possible au and like how the plot could play out differently if they worked in the mall but first of all it’s just more realistic, second of all it further utilizes the mall as a central setting, and third of all, it would bring everyone together. as it is in canon, nancy and jonathan were unnecessarily isolated from the rest of the group, and this isolation was detrimental to both of their characters. like, they only ever get to interact with each other! if they’d gotten summer jobs in the mall, they could have had more interactions with the kids/steve/robin, and they absolutely still could have had a similar argument! maybe in this case, nancy notices the rat thing (or something else odd) herself when taking out the trash behind the mall, and she wants jonathan to ditch work with her to check it out bc she thinks it may be related to the lab. jonathan doesn’t want to ditch work because he needs his job, nancy argues that they’re working shitty mall jobs anyway and who cares if they get fired, and we get more or less the same thing as s3 without the cartoonishly over-the-top misogyny. i mean honestly i think the rat shit could have been cut entirely it didn’t rly... accomplish much of anything. in my opinion. like imagine s3 without the rat plot you literally would not be missing anything except it would be more surprising when the dudes melted into goo at the hospital. so yeah i think it would have been better if nancy and jonathan had jobs at the mall, weren’t isolated from everybody else, and were maybe absorbed into the party’s plot or the scoops troop’s plot from very early on, allowing them to interact with more characters and have a less... dumb.... plot. like god splitting up nancy and jonathan between the party/scoops troop would have been So Much better i just. sdkjcnksdmn anyway yeah.

briefness of group reunion/separation of groups

remember in s2 at the beginning of “the gate,” where mike and hopper had a confrontation and max and el met for the first time and el hugged everyone and steve and nancy had their sad little moment together outside... where’s that energy? obviously the s2 reunion wasn’t that long either, but it made space for some significant emotional moments to take place. s3′s reunion had some hopper/el/mike resolution, but besides that... there was nothing, really. i just think that the whole group getting together in s3 was SO exciting and powerful the way they did it (with both the scoops troop and the adults having their own Big Moment reconnecting with team griswold family), but the emotional potential was more or less squandered. 

i also think in s3 at times they were really stretching to keep everybody separated even though it made no sense. and like... in s1 the separation worked bc nobody else knew that (x group) was experiencing weird shit too, and beyond that, each group (as i mentioned in the s1 section) was sort of operating within their own genre and bringing something unique to the season. they’ve stopped doing that though! now, the groups aren’t separate bc each plot is tonally/structurally different, the groups are just separate bc... they need to be, because it’s a big ensemble cast and you can’t just have them all be together for a whole season or it would be way too difficult to coordinate things and keep the show dynamic. all this is to say that i’m excited for s4 because the location differences make it so there’s a Reason for each plot to be separate at the beginning, and i think that’ll work better.

general ridiculousness

i dont mean like i think it’s bad that they made jokes this is just me lumping in all the dumb shit like hopper not worrying about el and not wanting to check on the kids, him and joyce bickering long after they both know they and their children are in danger, max seemingly forgetting that billy is a racist abuser, etc etc. i think many of these are just a symptom of the show 1. trying desperately to keep the groups split up a certain way even though it may not make any sense, and 2. trying to fit into a certain genre/trope mold when their actual characters are more complex than the tropes they’re imitating. this is so fucking long already i am not gonna elaborate further rn but i trust u all know what i mean.

soooo... yeah, that’s about all! i mean it’s not all there are definitely many more things i could talk about and i know i focused sorta disproportionately on the teens which is my bad :/ but i’m done for now. thank you for asking, and apologies for the delay in responding!! i’m sure some people reading (if anyone read this far) will disagree with some of what i’ve said and that’s alright like i’m not The Authority on st or anything i’m just trying to talk about like my own thoughts yknow? so yeah luv u all i hope someone enjoyed reading this!!

[glitteryflufflepuff2003]

Room 19 (Motel Maid POV)

POV: you’re the maid who has to clean up after the Winchesters destroy a motel room with monster guts and spray painted sigils

Warnings: Swearing, monster ‘goo’, Winchester’s leaving a shocking mess 

A/N: This is a bit of a comic side story, it was based on a post I came across on @impala-dreamer​ blog which I will link for you. Big credit to Beka with the original post that I used as a prompt, go check out her blog, it’s pretty amazing. Let me know if you enjoyed this and I may do some more fics like this, I rather enjoyed writing this one. 

It was check out time, which meant it was the start of your cleaning shift at the local motel. You’d taken the job on a whim, needing the extra cash to help with your amenities. Most of the time, the rooms were more or less untouched by the overnight guests, with most of them only needing a place to rest their head before continuing on their journeys. 

However, nothing could have prepared you for room 19 that day. 

A pair of men exited the office as you made your way in, the taller one held open the door for you and you slipped by with a smile and a polite “thank you”. As you looked up, your gaze met that of your manager… she didn’t seem pleased at all. 

“Is everything okay, Sandra?” You asked, glancing at the clock to check that you were, in fact, early. 

“Those men… they just left a wad of cash and apologised for the mess… I don’t even want to think about what’s been going on in there.” She huffed as she began to busy herself with the paperwork that was sprawled across her desk. 

“Would you like me to start with their room first?” You enquired, Sandra nodded and held up the room key they had left to show you where you would be cleaning… room 19. As you grabbed your cleaning supplies and loaded them into your cart, you thought over what possible mess could have warranted such a large amount of cash. Soon you didn’t have to wonder at all. 

You came to a stop outside room 19, noticing that the curtains were drawn even though it was the middle of the day. As you reached for the doorknob, you noticed a bit of black slimy residue around the base of it. Your brows knitted together as you grabbed a cloth and some antibacterial spray to clean it away. Then you unlocked the door and twisted the handle, allowing it to swing open to reveal the inside of room 19. 

You don’t know what you had expected but it certainly wasn’t anything like this. Black goo was everywhere: on the floor, on the walls, on the furniture, one every handle in that room. Funny looking symbols covered the walls, painted in what you hoped was red spray paint. Worst of all, the room stunk of the most foul smell that had ever invaded your nose. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t had to clean up trashed rooms before but this one really put the cherry on the cake. 

With a reluctant sigh you pushed your cart into the room and began to scrub every surface possible. 

It took you several hours and several buckets of water but the black goo was finally gone and the symbols were less poignant. You pulled your cart out of the room, locking it behind you, as you headed back to the store room to retrieve a tub of paint; if you couldn’t scrub the symbols off completely, the least you could do was paint over them so the next customers could use that room. 

As you slumped into the office, Sandra looked up from her desk. “How was it?” She hesitated, not sure if she really wanted to know what they had done. You pulled out your phone, tapped it a few times then handed it to her; on the screen she could see pictures that were clearly taken in one of their motel rooms but it was almost completely trashed. 

“What the actual fuck? They left it like this?” Sandra burst, her face turning red as she examined the images, you nodded in yes, “Well it’s a damn good job they coughed up this money before they left or I’d be hunting them down for the extra charges.” 

Sandra handed your phone back and you pocketed it before moving towards the store room. As you threw away your ruined rags to replace them with new ones, you happened to glance up at the clock. You nearly lost your balance as you read the time, you had spent nearly all of your shift on that room alone, you only had about 20 minutes left. 

You ducked your head around the corner, clearing your throat, you attracted Sandra’s attention. “I’ve only got 20 minutes until my shift ends, what do you want me to do?” You asked, Sandra’s jaw dropped at the change in time. 

“Let’s go through the repair costs, sort your tips and then you can clock out for the day… you know what, you might as well take tomorrow off too, you look like you need it after today.” Sandra gave you a soft smile as you let out a thankful sigh. You couldn’t wait for the chance to soak your aching muscles and get some well deserved rest. 

As you left the office, heading for your car, you looked towards room 19 with a shudder. Whoever those men were, you hoped that they would never return… you could deal with the idea of having to clean up that kind of mess ever again.

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