#beacon hell
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I cried.
#criticalrolespoilers#critical role fanart#critical role spoilers#procreate#bells hells#critical role#cr spoilers#critical role fan art#cr3#ashton greymoore#beacon#c3e121#illustration#digitalart#I felt THIS the moment I witnessed it in-game
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Save me hot boi, save me
#me eyes bleeding: you guys I watched all of campaign 2 in 2 months#that not something to be fucking proud of cassie#essek thelyss#critical role#mighty nein#cr3#cr2#bells hells#shadowgast#you guys look at all the tiny mighty nein icons that I made in the beacons#obvs calebs is the biggest#returning after a bajillion years with my very first critrole fanart#my art
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“Imogen and Dorian are one of my favorite friendships in Campaign 3. What’s your favorite part of those two characters working together?”
my question! imogen and dorian confirmed girlfails. all i wanted ever :)
#critical role#campaign 3#bells hells#imogen temult#dorian storm#twin storms#laura bailey#robbie daymond#laura bailey fireside chat#beacon fireside chat#hi jack :D
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the conflict, the drama, the angst, catch it all next time on CR
#caution: this meme was made with little context and is only for the humourment of the fandom#bc it honestly makes sense for dorian to be super critical of the gods#but also - orym has made it REAL clear what side he's on regardless of downfall#and he has had this debate probably 30 times since cr3 began#critical role#critical role spoilers#cr spoilers#cr shitpost#cr memes#critical role memes#bells hells#dorian storm#orym of the air ashari#cr fcg#ludinus da'leth#derrig of the air ashari#will of the air ashari#cr cooldown#beacon tv#beacon spoilers
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"just let me comfort you for once". implying that dorian doesn't realize that he's been regularly comforting orym since they first started working together? in one of the first episodes of exu he told orym that he didn't have to be involved in stealing for poska if it made him uncomfortable while everyone else was going on about how it wasn't that big of a deal. it's confirmed that the exu trio slept in a pile together when they started traveling alone- did he convince himself that any time he might have fallen asleep holding orym before was purely out of convenience and there was no chance being able to have fearne and dorian within arms reach helped orym rest easier? the idea that dorian might not realize that even just a 25 word message helped orym ground himself while they were apart, let alone what being there with him in person might mean to him, is so crushing.
#thinking thinking thinking#i haven't rewatched the ep yet bc beacon wasn't letting me play videos when i went to yesterday lol#but im sure ill have more to cornplate once i do#k watches cr3#cr spoilers#critical role#dorym#orym of the air ashari#dorian storm#bell's hells#c3e111
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torchwood doodles (i definitely don’t have a favourite character)
#torchwood#torchwood fanart#ianto jones#captain jack harkness#gwen cooper#owen harper#toshiko sato#torchwood audio dramas#I am deep in big finish hell (/pos) and going insane#the last beacon + dinner and a show I would die for you !!!!!#gareth david-lloyd written ianto my beloved im so obsessed with all the little details he adds!!!#I felt like a misogynist drawing cyberwoman lisa but i did it for the bit
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The starting scenes for each party are so on point I adore this little bit of world building.
Of course Vox Machina, the wise and well known heroes, are planning for the future with all the other big names. Of course the Mighty Nein, the relative unknowns, are in sewers somewhere taking care of something completely unrelated to the gods. And I'm loving the fact that Bells Hells, the feared and reviled, are on the run from Judicators. A council, a fight, and a moment of fleeing perfectly encapsulates these parties and where they're at
#critical role#cr chicago live show spoilers#beacon spoilers#chicago live show#bells hells#vox machina#the mighty nein
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! NO SPOILERS !
Full disclosure: I haven't finished the Mighty Nein yet. I just REALLY love Ashton's and Fearne's designs. I had to doodle them.
#artists on tumblr#sketch#critters#cr3#critical role characters#critters art#critter fanart#critical role art#critical role fanart#bells hells#bells hells fanart#bells hells art#ashton greymoore#fearne calloway#cr fearne#fearne critical role#ashton critical role#cr ashton#cr art#critical role#is it thursday yet#ashley johnson#talesin jaffe#dungeons and doodles#doodles#beacon#critical role campaign 3
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The moment Laura started talking
#narrative telephone#laura bailey#critical role#drag me to hells#narrative telephone drag me to hells#luis carazo#cr#beacon#critrole#travis willingham#liam o'brien#marisha ray#ashley johnson#matthew mercer#matt mercer#sam riegel#screenshot#funny
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This is your daily reminder Keyleth has been angry for 30 years. Her boyfriend is a marble. She doesn't care who is in attendance, she will swear.
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the thing that stuck out to me about this finale is the theme of new starts and redemptions
because it is a release for the gods in many ways. it is a release for the protagonists of the story we're following.
but in many ways it has turned into the reversal and softening of consequences/stakes that have dogged this campaign consistently.
a list of pulled punches/backtracks in the finale (in no particular order):
divine magic functioning exactly the same post-catatheosis. i think this contributes to bell's hells' reaction; if the magic is still there and the gods are gone, that still means it's okay, right? meanwhile people are grieving the loss of the beings that have defined their lives, especially in vasselheim. i guess this implies that the gods' energies have been tied to the world of exandria; those who attune to and hold faith in the particular creed of the deities can pull on their power as it was released into the world. or they pull purely from faith in other mortals, or smaller gods/beings. but they barely had any sympathy for those losing the object of their lives' purpose.
ashton sacrificing themself and not dying or losing any semblance of their powers. i get the sacrifice. i get the mirroring of fcg's sacrifice. i get wanting to go out with a bang. i also get bell's hells wanting him back. but what i want to know, is why exactly they had to be recreated with dunamis. why not be resurrected and have to grapple with the loss of that source of power and yet be in less pain because of it?
imogen (& the other ruidusborn) not losing power after predathos' release. yes i know why in the doylist sense. but it takes away the power of that decision if the source of the aberration in 'aberrant mind' goes away and nothing changes.
laudna being re-alived in a marriage ceremony/divine intervention. it feels like a little bit of a cop-out when her previous conversation with the matron implied work through time, but maybe that's just my interpretation. perhaps it's due to the reworking of magic and the expression of divine intervention.
bell’s hells threatening their way through vasselheim and getting zero flack for it even after they lost the leverage of predathos. i get the ‘heroes of the realm’ thing. i get it. did they have to intimidate their way through as much of it as possible.
orym's pact. i get why it would have constituted a break; the way it was played off felt a little flippant. it would be one thing for it to be acknowledged as him escaping a real pact that he did get powers from. instead it's more of a comedic moment.
liliana not facing public scrutiny. maybe she did, but it really seems like she recovered and just walked away. i'm aware of what she went through as an audience member; i wish we had gotten to see what imogen vouching for her on trial would have looked like. for that matter, we don't really see a resolution of the ruby vanguard at all.
opal being partially released from the circlet. this one actually makes sense to me. not protesting this one. the spider queen can't live in the circlet all the time if she's in mortal manifestation. also, opal is fully still stuck with the crown.
vax and morrighan as champions of the matron. i do think the matron's actions fit. in this scenario, she's weighing the possibilities of her champions having to run her realm against her own experience and trying to spare them both the loneliness she herself felt. it fits. i take issue with her saying she kept him greedily, rather than what it was, which was a pact fairly made that he faithfully served, which she is adjusting in a moment of mercy at the end of the world as they know it.
the gods are back on exandria. it's been treated as a bit, with reminders of evil babies and what you could do to them. recall the last time they were there the time period was called the calamity. and also, can you imagine what the followers of either betrayer gods or prime deities would do knowing that the god who ostensibly opposed theirs was out there somewhere as a vulnerable mortal? they've started an ages-long arms race of who can find the reincarnated gods first. braius stepped away from asmodeus and was promised a lifetime of being followed for his betrayal, and yet ashton was literally followed more by the kryn dynasty.
it comes across as a lot of wish fulfillment without the legwork to get there. it's not that bell's hells haven't been through the worst and come back from it; it's that the closer we've come to a conclusion, the less it seems like bell's hells have had a stake in all of it.
even their conclusions: the primary goals have been freedom and adventuring.
vox machina's original epilogues came with grief, but also a level of responsibility to their communities (whitestone, zephrah, the faith of the everlight). they had fame from their exploits because they happened on a very grand scale.
the mighty nein's epilogues came with a resurrection, and the desire to live their lives to the fullest. as the 'heroes no one knows about', they were able to step down and live quieter lives. they pursued specific purposes, whether it's beau with the cobalt soul & caleb at the academy pursuing the assembly, fjord captaining his fleet and jester pursuing her art and faith, veth and her family and camp, kingsley as the plank king, caduceus stewarding the blooming grove, yasha tending her home, and etc.
the epilogues for bell's hells focus on them achieving individual goals of freedom to travel and adventure. sometimes they have a place where they settle, but it's generally undefined. it feels as though they're not done yet, because the finality is taken out with the stakes.
everyone lives happily ever after, and the world keeps spinning. it’s like a fluffy fix-it fic, except this is fully the canon of the world.
i’ll discuss my thoughts on the greater implications for exandria another day.
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Keyleth, Voice of the Tempest - Art by Jonah Baumann, featured on CR Abridged
Source: Beacon
#cr abridged#cr abridged art#jonah baumann#critical role#critical role fanart#bells hells#cr art#critical role art#cr3#crit role#keyleth#keyleth of the air ashari#matt mercer#marisha ray#cr abridged spotlight art#cr abridged character art#beacon tv
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 𖤟 killer queen
Where Savanna Rios, the reigning queen of Beacon Hills High, learns that while she may be at the top of the social food chain, she's not the only predator prowling the halls.
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x latina!fem!oc
Warnings: mature language, dark themes, death, blood/gore, attempted assault
series masterlist + other works
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Junior year was supposed to be a return to normalcy. After the tumultuous events of last year, Vanna was hoping that her remaining time at Beacon Hills High would be smooth sailing from here on out. She should've guessed that her peaceful summer was nothing more than the calm before the storm.
The new semester started with a bang. Literally.
The cheerleader entered her first period class, which happened to be Advanced English. She was surprised to see Scott McCall there, but then again, she didn't know the boy very well. The rest of the troublemakers were also present, the only two available seats near Stilinski and Greenberg. She chose the lesser of the two evils, sighing heavily as she dropped into the open chair behind Stiles. The sheriff's son turned in his seat to greet her. "Hey," he smiled.
"Hi." The ravenette responded without looking up from her phone. Just Danny asking if she going to Heather's party after tryouts were over. She declined, pointing out that she hadn't spoken to the girl in years. The blonde had transferred to another school at the end of sixth grade. Crashing her birthday party didn't seem like the best idea. The drama that would ensue wasn't worth the free booze.
"How was your summer?" Stiles had an elbow on her desk to prop his head against.
"Alright." She set her phone down on the desk. "I spent most of the break on the beach." Despite living in the small town of Beacon Hills for half of her life, San Diego would always be her true home. She visited as often as she could, going swimming and hanging out with her old friends. Her mother refused to return to the city, but kept their old beachfront house for old times' sake. This year's trip had been extra fun because Danny had tagged along for the ride.
"Right, yeah. Danny mentioned going surfing." He scratched his temple nervously. "Well, you didn't miss much. It was actually pretty boring around here."
She shook her head with a wry smile. "Beacon Hills? Boring? I doubt it."
He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a number of ringtones. Vanna flipped her phone over as Stiles dug his out of his pocket. There was a new text from an unknown number. A dark-haired woman walked into the classroom holding her phone up as she quoted Heart of Darkness. Savanna crossed her arms, her mocha-colored eyes narrowed into slits as she observed the woman. She introduced herself to the class as Jennifer Blake, their new teacher.
The lesson had hardly begun before Scott was pulled out of class. The rest of them were quietly taking notes when Stiles noticed a bandage on Lydia's ankle. "Lydia-"
"Do you mind?" Vanna glared at him from beneath her lashes, her glitter pen poised above her journal.
"Sorry." Stiles glanced back at the cheerleader before leaning over to get Lydia's attention, making sure to keep his voice down. Savanna tried to ignore them and pay attention to the board as Stiles grilled the redhead about her dog. "Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia thought about it before shaking her head. "Okay," Stiles shifted in his seat. "What if it's the same thing as the deer? You know, like how animals start acting weird before an earthquake or something?"
The redhead arched a brow. "Meaning what? That there's gonna be an earthquake?"
"Or something." Stiles insisted, sensing that she wasn't fully convinced. "I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad."
Lydia looked dubious. "It was a deer and a dog," she shrugged. "What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice-" A loud bang on the window caught everyone's attention. Vanna dropped her pen when she saw blood splattered on the glass. Ms. Blake moved towards the window to investigate. The panicked cries of the bird made the cheerleader shift uncomfortably.
The cries grew louder and more frantic as hundreds of crows flew towards them, their black bodies blocking out the sky. Their teacher jumped back as a second bird crashed into the glass, then another and another until the cracked surface finally gave way. Dozens of birds forced their way into the classroom, causing a full-on panic. The students ducked, throwing their arms over their heads for protection against the sharp beaks and talons. "Get down!" Ms. Blake screamed.
The squawking, combined with the screams, was near deafening. The ravenette winced, pressing her palms against her ears to block out the noise. Stiles shoved Lydia's desk aside and moved to duck underneath it when he noticed that Savanna hadn't moved. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips were parted in a pained scream as she clutched the sides of her head. "Van!" He yelled over the noise, grabbing her forearms and pulling her down to the ground with him and Lydia.
"Van, come on!" He cradled her head with his arm, using his other to protect the redhead beside them. He laid his head on top of Vanna's, keeping her pressed against his chest as he tried his best to shield the girls with his body. Much the same as last year, she realized, when they'd been trapped inside the school with the Alpha... which she still hasn't received an explanation for now that she's thinking about it. Stiles had stuck by her side that whole night, consistently placing himself between her and the danger they faced. Even now, he didn't hesitate to prioritize her safety over his own.
He was warm and his lean frame felt surprisingly muscular as she and Lydia clutched onto him for dear life. His chest heaved up and down rapidly as he sucked in short breaths of air, shouting reassurances to both girls as he fought to be heard over the cacophony.
It felt like hours before the last bird crashed down onto the linoleum, lifeless. The students slowly peered out from their hiding spots. Blood and feathers covered every surface.
Savanna slowly peeled herself off of Stiles, her willowy frame trembling from the adrenaline. She stared at the carnage around them in dazed confusion, softly shaking her head. Everything felt hazy, like her mind was caught between sleep and consciousness. "Van," Stiles' voice sounded muffled despite his proximity. There was a sharp ringing in her ears, making it impossible to concentrate. "Van, hey, look at me." Stiles spoke louder, gently cradling her face and turning her to face him. "Shit."
"What?" Lydia leaned around him to look, her voice cracking.
"She's bleeding." Red rivulets ran down her neck from her hairline. He pushed the thick, black hair aside frantically, looking for any fresh cuts only to find nothing. More blood dribbled down the side of her neck. "Where does it hurt, V?" She squinted at him, softly shaking her head. His voice still sounded like he was underwater, but it wasn't as bad as before. Vanna slowly raised a hand to her ear, only to touch something warm and wet. When she pulled her hand away, her fingertips were stained crimson. Lydia and Stiles stared at her hand in shocked horror. "Van? Where does it hurt?"
"It doesn't." Her voice was soft, quiet. The opposite of her usual self.
Stiles urged her to go to the nurse to be checked out but Savanna refused. She grabbed her bag before going to the locker room and wiping the blood off the best she could with a wet paper towel. Her hearing was already back to normal, the momentary tinnitus thankfully gone. She could almost believe that the whole thing never happened... that is, if she ignored the dried blood on the collar of her letterman jacket.
Most of the students involved in the incident chose to leave early, but the Rios girl stayed. Cheer tryouts were scheduled to start right after school let out and as captain, she needed to be present. Danny stayed glued to her side for the rest of the day, constantly asking if she was okay. She had a sneaking suspicion that Stiles had run his mouth about her "injury."
Tryouts lasted for hours, with Vanna drilling routines into them as the sun sunk lower in the sky. Eventually, she called it a night, noticing their exhaustion. If she pushed them much further, then someone was bound to get hurt. The cheerleaders were dismissed and Vanna loaded her bags into the backseat of her car before checking her phone.
Stiles, Danny, Scott, Allison, and Lydia had all texted to check on her, with Stiles being the most persistent of them all. She secretly appreciated their concern, even though she vehemently denied being friends with most of them. She honestly didn't even know how Scott or Allison had her number.
Please text me so I know you're alive, was the last real text Stiles had sent, which was thirty minutes ago. He'd then proceeded to send her different emojis with zero context to the previous conversation every two minutes to bug her into responding faster.
She shot the boy a quick message telling him she was headed home and to stop blowing up her inbox before starting the car. Vanna turned into the preserve, taking her usual shortcut. The Rios home was in a secluded area of woods bear the lake on the edge of town. Her mother valued their privacy and wanted to enjoy the tranquility of the nature around them. The shortcut shaved about seventeen minutes off her commute.
The ravenette frowned as her car suddenly rolled to a stop. The lights of the dashboard died and her headlights flickered out, shrouding her in pitch black. She cranked the keys a couple times, waiting for the engine to roar back to life only for nothing to happen. Her car was still fairly new and was checked regularly. The gas tank was nowhere near empty, so she was stumped as to what the problem was. She grabbed her phone and left the car, turning on her flashlight. She popped the hood and held up the flashlight, looking for something out of place. Everything looked fine, which only confused her further.
Savanna jumped, her phone slipping out of her hand as the car radio blasted to life, filling the quiet air with eerie chanting in a foreign language. The headlights suddenly turning on momentarily blinded her, forcing her to shield her eyes. "What the hell?" She grabbed the hood of the car and closed it. There was a rustle of leaves and a cool rush of air behind her before she was struck in the back of the head.
The cheerleader cried out, her upper body crashing against the front of the vehicle. She slid down until she was on her knees, her head throbbing. A thick cord wrapped around her neck and squeezed, cutting off her air supply. She gasped, clutching her neck. She scratched at the gloved hands gripping the cord, clawing at her attacker's hands and arms as her body thrashed wildly. She tried to scream, but it was nothing more than a strangled whimper.
A cool press of metal against her neck was the last thing she remembered before her entire world went dark.
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A rusty red truck slowed down as the headlights caught a figure walking robotically along the side of the road. The driver checked the time, noting that it was after midnight. From the back he could see that it was a slim girl with long legs and straight black hair wearing a maroon cheer uniform."Hey, sweetheart," He whistled, rolling his window down and banging his hand on the side of the door to gain her attention. "You lost?"
The girl ignored him, continuing to walk forward mindlessly. Mud and dirt stained her clothes and golden brown skin, while leaves and twigs were tangled throughout her long hair.
The man glanced around, not seeing anyone else nearby. He couldn't even tell where she'd come from. There wasn't a building or an abandoned car anywhere nearby that he'd seen. "Come on, doll. Why don't you let me take you home?" He trailed after her slowly in his truck. "A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be left out here all alone."
The girl stopped, still facing away from him.
The truck crawled towards her still figure, the man's confidence growing. He pulled over and parked, leaning over to open the passenger door for her. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her. He hadn't yet caught a glimpse of her face in the dark, her features indistinguishable in the dim light. His truck was old, the dashboard lights shot to Hell. The man pressed down on the gas, propelling them forward through the light fog forming.
He reached over and ran a calloused hand over the skin of her exposed thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath the hem of her cheer skirt. She felt cool to the touch despite the reasonably warm weather out. "Didn't your mamma ever teach you not to get into cars with strangers, little girl?" he cooed. The cheerleader remained silent, motionless. He grabbed her hand and pulled it over the armrest, forcing her to palm the growing bulge over his jeans. He leaned over to sniff her hair with a low groan, biting his lip before chuckling darkly. "I hope you aren't this quiet in bed. I wanna hear you scream."
She turned her head to face him just as they passed under a flickering streetlight. The man cursed, flinching back. "Holy fuck!" He stomped on the brakes.
The teenager looked like she'd just crawled out of a grave. She sported a deep laceration spanning the width of her throat. Her hairline was matted with blood as fresh crimson liquid wept from her neck wound, coating the lower half of her neck and staining the top of her uniform. Dirt and dried blood was smeared across her face... but it was her eyes that unnerved him the most.
The pupils and irises were gone, leaving only milky white orbs. The way her ghostly eyes bore into him reminded him of a predator observing its prey. Her mouth curled into an eerie smile, her teeth glinting in the moonlight. They were stained red and looked unusually sharp.
He scrambled backwards in his seat so violently that his back crashed against his door. He fumbled for the handle, nearly tumbling backwards to the ground as he finally wrestled the door open.
He bolted for the trees, dialing 911 with shaky hands. "Hello? I-please! Help me. There's-" he shouted in surprise as the undead girl appeared in front of him. Her small, icy hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed, sharp talons digging into his flesh. He dropped the phone to grab her wrist as she lifted him off the ground.
She cocked her head, as if observing him. He screamed in agony as her sharp, pearly white teeth ripped into his flesh.
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The police cruiser parked behind the abandoned truck on the side of the road. Officer Tara Graeme stepped out, taking in the scene. The engine was still running, soft country music spilling out from the the driver's window that was rolled down. The stuffing was poking out of a few holes in the stained seats. Rust-colored smears could be seen on the passenger side door handle.
They'd traced a call to the emergency line to this area. An unidentified man had called, babbling hysterically before the line disconnected... but not before they'd heard bloodcurdling screams and animalistic growls. The officer circled the vehicle cautiously, spotting a prone figure slumped in the passenger seat.
Tara yanked the door open, reaching out to feel for a pulse when the girl's eyes suddenly shot open. Her expression was completely blank, her dark eyes empty as she looked straight through the officer. She was covered in blood from head to toe, some parts dried and flaky while most of it appeared to be relatively fresh. There was no outward reaction from the girl as Tara radioed for an ambulance. There was also no sign of the man that had placed the call, but the amount of blood at the scene told the officer that there likely wasn't much left of him to find.
Officer Graeme had a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach, remembering all of the vicious animal attacks that had plagued their quiet little town last year.
"Unidentified female, Hispanic, approximately 16 to 17 years old." She placed her free hand on the gaping neck wound and applied pressure. "The victim appears to have severe lacerations to the face and throat, as well as multiple contusions to the face and head." Tara spoke quickly and calmly, not wanting to frighten the traumatized girl further. "Honey, can you tell me your name? What happened here?" Savanna didn't acknowledge her presence whatsoever, continuing to stare through her blankly. The only indication that she was still alive was the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
"Hang in there, sweetheart." She said in a soothing voice, both hands now on the girl's throat to prevent her from bleeding out. "You're gonna be just fine."
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Scott and Stiles arrived at school none the wiser of the events that had transpired earlier that morning. They met up with their friends and Derek before class to discuss what was happening with the local animals.
The pale boy frowned when he spotted Vanna's vacant seat in English. He made a mental note to text her later and see how she was doing after yesterday's reenactment of Hitchcock's The Birds. Lydia glanced at the empty seat as well, remembering how she'd screamed herself awake last night. She snuck a peek at her phone while Ms. Blake read from the textbook.
No response. It was normal for Vanna to ignore or respond late to messages from anyone that wasn't Danny or her mother. She tried to tell herself that she was being silly and that there was nothing to worry about. But after cornering the lacrosse goalie during lunch, the redhead learned that he hadn't heard from their friend since yesterday also, which caused Lydia's anxiety to skyrocket.
The black-haired beauty momentarily slipped her mind after Lydia unintentionally drove to the public pool and found the mutilated body of a lifeguard later that night. Stiles was the first number she dialed after 911, which he did not appreciate. After giving her statement to the police, Stiles drove her home, not wanting her to be behind the wheel in her current state. She had her hand on the door, ready to jump out, only to hesitate. "Have you talked to Vanny today?"
"No," the hazel-eyed boy frowned. "Not since last night. Why?"
"I felt..." Lydia shook her head, her eyes burning with tears. The knot in her stomach grew heavier, making it difficult to breathe. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Lydia?"
She slammed the door shut, cutting him off. Stiles watched her head inside with a look of confusion. He backed out of the driveway, contemplating driving over to the Rios house, when he received a call from Melissa McCall. The nurse asked him to come to the hospital before quickly hanging up.
He pulled up to the hospital doors within ten minutes and went inside. Due to the late hour, not many people were around. He made a bee-line for the front desk, where the dark haired woman was flipping through papers. "Hey."
"Hey," she rounded the desk and grabbed his arm. "Over here," Melissa spoke in a hushed voice, as though she was worried someone might overhear. She led him down a hallway, smiling tightly at one of her coworkers as they walked by. They stopped outside the morgue as she swiped her keycard. "If you tell anyone I showed you this, I swear to God I will kill you slowly and painfully."
Stiles wasn't remotely fazed by the death threat. "Why do you want to show me a body I've already seen?"
"Because you haven't seen everything." Melissa pulled on a pair of medical gloves and pulled back the white sheet covering the body of the lifeguard. She pointed at one of his wounds. "See this around his neck?" Stiles leaned in to get a closer look. "That's a ligature mark—that means he was strangled with something, like a cord or rope."
"Okay, wait a second," Stiles held up a hand. "What kind of werewolf strangles someone? You know, that's not very..." he struggled for a better adjective before settling on, "werewolf-y."
The woman nodded. "My thoughts exactly." She rounded the table to stand by the man's head. "Then there's this," she lifted his head to show Stiles his fractured skull. The boy gagged, pressing the back of his hand to his nose and mouth. "God, man, what is that? Is that brain matter? Yeah, it's brain matter. Of course."
The McCall matriarch, ever the professional, didn't so much as flinch at the gory sight. "See the indentation?" She continued, tracing the outline of the wound with her finger. "He was hit in the back of the head hard enough to kill him." This peaked the boy's interest. His disgust was overridden by his curiosity, drawing him back over to the body. "In fact, any one of these could've killed him. I mean, somebody seriously wanted this poor kid dead."
Stiles licked his lips. "All right, so this couldn't have been Cora or Boyd, you know? They wouldn't have done all that."
"You're right," Melissa nodded, moving on to another body. "Because two girls were brought in with the exact same injuries. The first two victims were attacked just after midnight last night, which means they were attacked-"
"Before the full moon." Stiles finished
Melissa nodded and waved him over to the second body, pulling the sheet aside. "This is victim #2. The ME said this one wasn't just strangled. Whoever did it used a garrote, which is a stick that you put through the rope and you just kind of keep twisting."
Stiles stared at the dead blonde in shock, his eyes welling with tears. "Stiles?" The nurse asked, worried. "God, did you know her?" Stiles only nodded, wiping under his eyes quickly. Melissa rushed to cover the girl back up. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even think."
"I was... I was at her party." He struggled to get the words out around the sudden lump in his throat. "It was her birthday. Her name is Heather."
The brown-haired woman sighed. "Okay, we need to call your father because you're a witness." Stiles stumbled back, his hazel eyes flittering back and forth as his mind raced. "Stiles?"
He gasped, as if he'd just come to a huge realization. "You said there were two girls that were brought in, right?" Melissa agreed. He ran his hands through his hair as he paced in a small circle. "Okay, the first victim. Where is she?"
"The third floor."
He stopped pacing to gape at her. "She's alive?"
The pair took the elevator up to see the sole survivor, with Stiles bouncing on the balls of his feet as his mind raced with the possibility that these weren't random killings, but something far more sinister. He squeezed through the elevator doors before they were even fully open, Melissa rushing to keep up as he practically jogged down the hallway. "They brought her in around one in the morning. The officer on the scene originally ruled it as an animal attack, but no animal did this. I saw her chart. Cerebral contusions, throat slit, and bruising consistent with being strangled." She counted on her fingers. "The same injuries as the other two."
"It's a pattern," Stiles whispered to himself, shaking his hands at his side anxiously. He turned to face the woman with a manic look in his eyes. "Has anyone else been through here tonight? Any other bodies or even anybody missing?"
"Uh, no. No bodies, but, um..."
"What?" Stiles asked, growing impatient.
"Two girls," Melissa explained. "They brought the first one, Caitlin, in for a tox screen and then I overheard that her girlfriend, Emily, just disappeared." The woman shrugged. "I mean, they were out in the woods, and-"
Stiles' mind continued to work overtime, piecing together the information like a jigsaw puzzle. "Nobody's found her yet?"
Melissa shook her head helplessly. "I don't know."
They came to stop, just a few feet away from where a uniformed officer stood guard outside the victim's room. "Okay, the girl...?"
"Caitlin."
"Is she here? Is she here right now?"
"I-I think so?"
"Okay, where? I need to talk to her next."
"Okay, wait. Just wait a minute." The woman held her hands up in timeout, preventing an annoyed Stiles from forcing his way into the guarded hospital room. "Please."
He groaned, throwing his hands towards the closed door. "I have to talk to her."
"And why's that?"
"Because I think I know what's happening." He left her, quickly approaching the police officer stationed in front of the door. "Hey, Wayne."
"Stiles," the old cop greeted back, looking mildly amused. "Visiting hours ended a while ago. Does the boss know you're here?"
"No, and I'd prefer to keep it that way if you don't mind." Stiles pat the older man's shoulders, trying to slip around him but Wayne's massive build completely blocked the doorframe.
"I don't think so, bud. Why don't you head on home and come back tomorrow?"
Melissa nudged the teen out of the way with a strained smile. "Hi. Nurse here," she pointed at her name badge. "I just came by to change her bandages for the night." Wayne nodded, stepping aside. She thanked him, turning the knob, only to be stopped when Stiles tried to follow her inside.
"Stiles-" the guard started, holding up a hand.
"It's okay," he insisted. "I just want to talk-"
"Stiles."
The boy sighed, recognizing the voice as his father's. He turned around slowly, his face pinched in annoyance. Noah approached the group with his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here? It's a school night."
"I, uh... just stopped by to say hi to Melissa here." The sheriff crossed his arms as the teen faced Melissa. "So... hi," he trailed off awkwardly, scratching his temple as the two parents simultaneously rolled their eyes.
Noah glanced between his son and the door before a look of understanding passed over his features. "You heard, huh?"
The boy's face scrunched up in confusion, exchanging a look of surprise with the McCall matriarch. "Uh, yes?"
Noah sighed tiredly. "Look, kid. She's not in the best shape right now, but seeing a familiar face might do some good... maybe help her open up so she can give us an idea of what happened last night. I'll give you five minutes with her, but only if Melissa thinks she can handle it." He held his hand up palm out towards the younger Stilinski. "I don't want to upset her in her condition. Five minutes, Stiles. Capiche?"
Stiles nodded eagerly, his curiosity growing. "Yeah, yeah. Got it. Ten minutes."
"Stiles."
The teenager hovered closely behind Melissa as she gently knocked on the door, pushing it open. The room was dim, a bedside lamp in the corner the only source of light other than the tiny bulbs on the machines. The steady beep of her heart monitor was the only sound. "Savanna, honey? Are you awake? You have a visitor."
Stiles froze in place, feeling like he'd just been drenched in ice water. "Wait... Savanna?"
#teen wolf stiles#teen wolf#hell is a teenage girl#lydia martin#allison argent#scott mccall#melissa mccall#beacon hills#stiles x oc#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#stiles stilinski#noah stilinski
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Lucanis enjoyers, Rookanis Hell Dwellers. I come to you with angst.
Lucanis Dellamorte
Luc leukos (Greek: λευκός), meaning "white" Lux (gen. lucis), meaning "light" Canis lykos (Greek: λύκος), meaning "wolf" Dellamorte of death
Or we could dig deeper Dell/della Italian for Of Amor italian/latin for love te latin for you His name MEANS WHITE WOLF OF LOVE [for] YOU
#dragon age#datv spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#Rookanis#solavellen hell#A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES THE BEACON!#Rookanis Hell#Sollavellan hell has been succeeded#lucanis x rook
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HAZBIN HOTEL incorrect quotes: 39/
Source x
#they're mirrors. they're foils. Of course mr Creepy Shadow Man is drawn to the brightest beacon of light in Hell#charlastor#radiobelle#hazbin hotel#cinematv#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbinedit#hazbinhoteledit#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel charlie#tvcentric#filmtvtoday#tvedit#animationsdaily#animationsource#hazbin hotel edit#my edit
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