#☾ (Not Like Home: Beacon Hills)

[ateotd-izzy]

it’s nice to have a friend - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

“you been stressed out lately, yeah, me too”

summary: you didn’t have many friends in middle school, not until you met a boy one afternoon. it was nice to have a friend. especially one that lasted as long as stiles did.

“something gave you the nerve to touch my hand”

notes: friends to lovers (obv), it’s just very sweet and fluffy, i just love him sm :3

“it’s nice to have a friend”

☾

the first time you met stiles stilinski was on a cold winter afternoon back in the seventh grade.

snow in beacon hills wasn’t common at all, so you weren’t exactly prepared for the freezing weather.

and to top it all off, while you were in school, you had lost your gloves at some point during the day.

so now you were walking home with the fear that you were going to lose your hands to frostbite.

as you walked, you noticed the boy walking on the sidewalk next to you looking at you while you rubbed your hands together.

“you could borrow one of mine if you’d like.” he suddenly spoke and you turned to look at him.

“what?” 13-year-olds didn’t exactly always have the best manners.

he pulled one of his gloves off of his hand and held it out to you. “you don’t wanna get hypothermia. i did a science report on it, like, two years ago. it’s not cool.”

“who are you?” you asked as you took the glove and slipped it onto your hand.

“oh, right, i’m stiles.” he held out his bare hand to you.

“y/n.” you smiled, shaking his hand with your own non-gloved hand. “sheriff stilinski’s your dad, right?”

“yup.” stiles nodded with a smile. “are you doing anything this afternoon?”

“no… why?”

“wanna hang out?”

this strange and very sweet boy who you had just met was asking to hang out with you.

“what would we do?” you asked curiously as the two of you walked.

“i have a bunch of video games.”

you smiled. “yeah, sounds like fun.”

so stiles walked you to his house where the two of you hung out playing video games in his living room until his dad got home.

by then you had lost track of time and had to go home.

“see you tomorrow, y/n.” stiles smiled from the door as you walked down onto the sidewalk.

“see ya, stiles.”

the next day wasn’t as cold. the snow had all melted and it was warm enough to not have to wear too many layers.

at school, stiles sat at the desk next to yours first period and discreetly passed you a note when the teacher wasn’t looking.

you carefully unfolded it to see his messy handwriting across the lines on the paper.

wanna hang out with me and scott today?

it’s nice to have a friend

five years later you sat beside stiles on the hood of his jeep.

he had parked on the cliff side so the two of you could watch the sunset.

the sky before you was a soft, light pink as the sun had begun sinking behind the horizon.

this night was one where the two of you were free of the troubles of werewolves, banshees, dread doctors and theo raeken, who had recently been sent to hell.

you’d had a crush on the boy sitting beside you, your best friend, for the last two years at least. around the time where all the werewolf troubles began back in your sophomore year.

and this night in particular, you didn’t have a curfew. your parents thought you were staying at stiles’ house for the night, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

most nights you would sneak out when it came to supernatural stuff, but this time it was just you and stiles hanging out.

“wanna play 20 questions?” you asked as the sky began to grow darker, but the pink and orange stayed.

“why? we practically know everything about each other.” stiles chuckled and you shrugged.

“we haven’t been able to just hang out like this lately.” you pointed out. “there’s always been something else.”

so stiles agreed to the game and the two of you played. most of the questions were silly, stuff about movies and games that you already knew the answers to.

but some of the questions were more real. about school and college, or scott’s lycanthropy.

then stiles told you, unprovoked, about how stressed out he had been lately. with theo, donovan, the dread doctors, scott, and the overwhelming fear that everyone was going to leave him behind.

“yeah, i get it. i absolutely get it.” you bumped his shoulder with your own. “but you don’t need to worry. you’ll always have me.”

stiles smiled as he looked at you beside him, while you looked back at the sunset.

he looked down at your hand, which was sitting on the hood of his jeep in between the two of you.

and slowly, despite his nerves jittering, he moved his hand from his leg and sat it beside yours, your fingers brushing against his.

stiles didn’t know that small touch sent what felt like a jolt of electricity through your body and butterflies into your stomach.

then, while looking forward, stiles moved his hand even closer and sat his on top of yours.

your lips fought back the smile that was growing on your face, and stiles saw it from his peripheral vision as he laced your fingers together.

he held your hand tightly in his and you put your head on his shoulder as the sun disappeared from sight.

“i like you, stiles.” you spoke softly and stiles didn’t answer. for a moment you thought you had messed something up, so you lifted your head off his shoulder.

then stiles said the same thing. “i like you, too.”

and then he kissed you.

it’s nice to have a friend

“stiles, put me down!” you exclaimed, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly in fear that he would drop you.

he laughed but slowly helped you stand on the porch.

your hands trailed up his body until they were sitting on his shoulders before you kissed him.

his hands moved to hold your hips and yours drifted up to the sides of his face.

you pulled back and smiled.

“come on, mrs. stilinski, into the house we go.” stiles pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door.

you and stiles had gotten married just a month ago, not long after you had finished college and he started in the fbi.

as the two of you walked into your house, you took stiles’ hand in yours and intertwined your fingers.

you had moved out of beacon hills and now lived somewhere where it snowed a lot more frequently. that made you happy, because snow always reminded you of the day you first met stiles.

you watched the snow fall outside through the kitchen window while you started to make dinner.

“babe,” you called for stiles from the kitchen and he was before you in a flash.

“yeah?”

“you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” you asked and his face lit up the same way it would back when you were teenagers.

“star wars?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, his own little pleading face.

“sure.” you chuckled and turned to grab something from the fridge.

stiles’ arms wrapped their way around your middle from behind and his chin sat on your shoulder. kissing your cheek, stiles smiled as he hugged you tightly.

“you want help with dinner?” he mumbled against your neck.

“yeah.” you lifted one of your hands back to brush through his hair. “you want to help?”

“of course.” he pressed a few slow kisses to your neck before slowly letting go of you and moving to the counter. “what are we making?”

it’s nice to have a friend

tags: @brvceyamada

[michwritesstuff]

It’s Not All In Your Head (Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski)

I KNOW THIS IS KIND OF A DYING FANDOM SO IF YOU LIKE THIS PLEASE REBLOG/SHARE/LIKE!! IM CURRENTLY REWATCHING SO IM FEELING QUITE INSPIRED BY THESE CHARACTERS!

this was formerly posted on my blog as “Unexpected��� with a 1.5k word count, but I wrote it over two years ago and wanted to rewrite some things and add some more plot. So this really is a different story now, deserving of a new title and song that fits the vibe

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Stiles Stilinski

summary: When you find yourself mixed up in the mysterious supernatural world of Beacon Hills, a town you’ve grown up in your whole life, you find an unlikely ally in the form of Stiles Stilinski. The boy you’ve despised and admired for the last half of your life.

notes/warnings: small mentions of familial death, mention of dead body

word count: 3.3k

Getting out of bed this morning was rough.

Head rushing and pounding with the adrenaline from the night before.

It couldn’t be, right?

Everything you experienced last night wasn’t real, or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

You couldn’t explain how you ended up in the woods in the middle of the night.

Hearing voices in your head, it was almost as if you had been summoned there.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

This was the second time in your life that you couldn’t push the voices away.

It had only happened once before this, right before your grandmother passed.

She had been in hospice for the last few months and hadn’t been doing well.

You begged your mom to let you skip school that day to visit her, but she insisted that the last time she had spoken to the nurse, everything was fine.

You got called out of class early that day, your mother rushing you over to the nursing home so that your grandmother would be surrounded by family in her last moments.

Neither of you had brought up how you somehow knew you needed to be there, but the coincidence never left your mind.

Tonight felt like that day from a few months ago.

As you sat at your desk doing homework you could hear distant muffled voices, the words weren’t clear, but they started getting louder.

You huffed, pushing your chair back as you got up.

Walking down the hallway you expected to turn the corner and see your younger brother blasting the tv at the highest volume, but you were met with the deafening silence of the dark and empty living room.

The voices continued as you wandered around the house, growing louder as you followed them outside into the back yard.

You looked back at your house before sneaking out the side gate.

The streets were empty as you walked down the sidewalk, making left and right turns when they felt right.

It wasn’t until you reached the entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve that you snapped back to reality and truly took in your surroundings.

You barely enjoyed running through here when it was cross country season, you certainly wouldn’t have chosen to come here in the middle of the night.                                                

Walking further into the woods, you reached a small clearing.

A large wood trunk sat in the middle of the clearing, a sizeable figure laying on top of it.

As you got closer you began to make out shapes; an arm, a leg, it was a body.

You stopped a few feet short of the stump, your eyes widening in horror as they focused in on the lifeless eyes of the body before you.

It was a dead body.

You couldn’t do anything but scream at the top of your lungs.

The murmured voices quickly stopped and were soon replaced by a different set of voices.

They grew louder as did the footsteps as they approached.

 “Y/N!” Scott and Lydia exclaimed at the same time.

You turned around quickly, fear painted on your features as you attempted to speak.

“I—I don’t…”

Lydia stepped forward, wrapping her arm around your shoulder as she walked you away from the body.

“Y/L/N?” you heard another voice arise.

 It was the first time you really noticed that he was there.

“Stilinski,” you greeted back.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“You know the usual, finding dead bodies in the woods, you?”

 Hearing his scoff, you smirked to yourself, it was so easy to rile him up.

It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to be making jokes, but with Stiles the sarcasm and witty comebacks were hard to swallow back.

It was almost refreshing to be joking with him in that moment.

Whispering among themselves, you stood quietly looking around, of course your attention still drawn to the body splayed on the trunk a few feet behind them.

Their whispering soon came to an end and Lydia and Stiles stepped forward.

Taking your arm again, Lydia turned you around so that you were now walking in the direction that you came from.

“Y/N, did you walk here?” Lydia asked concernedly.

“Yeah, I—” you were about to explain how you felt drawn here.

“…yeah” you answered quietly.

She turned her head to give Scott and Stiles a worried look.

You know what this might have looked like to your classmates.

Standing over a dead body in the middle of the woods, late at night.

“C’mon, Stiles will take us home. It’s probably not the safest idea to be out now.”

 “What about Scott?” you asked unsurely.

 “Believe me, Scott knows how to handle his own,” Stiles replied while slightly increasing his speed so that he was now walking in front of you and Lydia.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but you chose not to ask too many questions.

As you crawled into the back of Stiles’s Jeep you didn’t know what to think.

You were terrified about the discovery you made in the woods and the unexplainable feeling that you had that could have possibly led you there.

Terrified at the thought of your classmates, also walking around the woods at the same time and seemingly not as concerned about a body as you were.

The low hum of the radio filled the awkward silence as they drove you home, only speaking up when you had to direct Stiles.

As he pulled up in front of your driveway, you quickly thanked them and got out, trying your best to get to the front door.

Stiles was quick to shut off the car and follow you.

“Y/LN!” he called.

You brushed it off as if you had not heard him, quickening your steps as you got closer.

“Y/N!” he called again.

You rounded on your feet quickly, Stiles stopping abruptly as he almost ran into you.

“What?” you exhaled tiredly, your eyes watering slightly as they met with his.

“What could you possibly say right now?” you asked.

“I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he spoke up.

“No Stiles, I am not okay. None of this is okay.”

He nodded understandingly.

He reached up slightly, so that his hand was barely hovering above your elbow.

You swore you could feel the heat radiating from his body being so close.

As you glanced down, he quickly dropped his hand back down to his side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he stated matter of factly.

You looked back up to give him a small nod.           

He waited for you to go inside and only turned to leave when he heard the lock click.

You did not see it, but Lydia gave him a pointed look as he walked back to the car.

“Shut up,” he said as he started the jeep.

“I didn’t say anything,” Lydia smiled back.

That night you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw the lifeless eyes of the body staring back at you.

Before you knew it, sleep had consumed your whole body and your thoughts and fears of the night slowly melted away.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

You quickly awoke to the sound of your alarm clock blaring.

Immediately hitting snooze, you debated skipping school all together.

It’s not like you didn’t like school, it was quite the opposite.

You were doing extremely well in all your classes, involved in every club and team you thought would make your college application stand out, and you had a great group of supportive friends.

Thinking about the possible run in with Scott or Lydia and the inevitable run in with Stiles, since you shared so many classes, was more than your anxiety allowed you to handle.

Grabbing your bag, you headed to the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and your keys from the counter as you said goodbye to your mom.

Walking to the driver’s door you were startled when a car horn honking caught your attention.

Looking up you were shocked to see Stiles and his infamous jeep, windows down as he blocked your driveway.

 “Stilinski, get the hell out of the way. You’re going to make me late for school.”

 “Yup, that’s the plan. Get in Y/L/N,” he replied.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over to his car. He nodded at you to get in.

You stood, looking unamused.

He huffed before getting out the driver’s side and walking around the front of the car.

He brushed past you, opening the passenger door, his eyes silently pleading with you to get in.

“Okay, okay!” you exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat.

The radio was low, and you quietly hummed along as you passed the houses on your street.

After a few wrong turns you had finally turned to Stiles,

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“I thought you were taking me to school,” you huffed, annoyance clear in your voice.

“I never said that, I said I was going to make you late,” Stiles replied, an attitude in his voice similar to yours.

Rolling your eyes, you turned in your seat, resuming the activity of watching the world outside the car window quickly pass.

After about another 10 minutes you had pulled into a driveway of a cute looking house.

“Is this your house?” you asked confused.

“Yeah, now c’mon,” he answered, quickly turning off the car and getting out.

You followed him into the house and to his room.

Your eyes scanned his room, blue walls littered with posters and clothes thrown on the floor with little regard.

Typical, you thought to yourself.

If you looked under the bed you were sure you would probably find playboy magazines covered in some sort of body fluid.

You shivered at the thought.

What was strange was the wall by his desk.

Red yarn creating a maze as it led from one photo to another. Confusing words and maps printed alongside.

You watched as Stiles threw his backpack onto the chair.

“Don’t worry my dad isn’t home, so no one will interrupt us.”

You gave him a surprised and teasing look, insinuating that his words were some sort of innuendo, before he quickly spoke again.

 “Jesus Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 You chuckled softly, before letting your eyes roam around some more.

“I just meant, there’s some things I need to ask you about, you know, about last night?” he continued.

Stiles noticed you visibly harden at the mention of last night.

He knew why Scott and them were there.

But you?

That was a question still left unanswered.

 Taking a seat on his bed, you sighed.

“What were you doing in the woods Y/N?” he asked more directly.

“I honestly don’t know,” you said unconvincingly.

 “I mean, I could be asking you the same thing. Your dad’s the Sheriff, right? I wonder what he would have to say about you and your friends hanging around dead bodies in the woods.”

This caught Stiles’s attention.

“Ok, let’s not get crazy. And don’t forget, we found you over the dead body,” he reminded you.

“And what exactly were the three of you doing out there? Taking a late-night stroll in the moonlight,” you remarked accusingly.

 “Listen Y/N. This is serious, there’s a lot going on in Beacon Hills. A lot that I can’t really explain right now. So please, let’s try and be honest with one another.”

“I don’t know how to be honest without sounding absolutely crazy,” you confessed.

“I promise you, nothing that you say to me right now will sound crazy. Just try me,” he smiled reassuringly.

He kneeled in front of you, now at eye level as you slowly nodded.

“Well, like you said, there’s a lot that can’t be explained, and I can’t really explain what happened. I was at home all night when I started hearing these voices—I.”

Stiles grabbed your hand as you stuttered, a silent comfort urging you to continue.

“It was like they were calling me. I mean I’ve heard voices before, they’re always different. Most of the time I can convince myself that I’m just imagining things, but this time was different. This time they wouldn’t stop. So, I just walked and walked, and next thing I knew I was in the woods and the voices had stopped. And that’s when I ran into you guys,” you said, finishing your account of events.

Stiles seemed less surprised and confused than you had thought he would.

“Y/N, do you know what this means!” he said, realization settling in his eyes as he started piecing things together.

You got up quickly, dropping his hand as you began pacing his room, the fear and confusion of the night before flooding back.

“No, Stiles, not really. I have no idea what any of this means,” you exclaimed, the fear evident in your voice.

His eyes softened as he took in your state.

“Okay, hey! It’s ok. We’re going to figure this out. I’m going to help you figure this out.”

“Figure out what? Stiles, this really isn’t making sense,” you exclaimed as you stopped pacing to face him.

“You said you’ve heard these voices before, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, once…”

“When?”

“What?” you looked at him confusedly.

“When did you hear these voices?” he pressed.

“Right before my grandmother passed,” you confessed smally.

“This is going to sound insane,” Stiles started.

“More insane than a girl who hears voices?” you interrupted.

“I think I know what’s going on.”

He got up from the bed, motioning for you to follow him to the desk, rifling through papers and a big leather-bound book, before stopping on a page.

Across the top you read Banshee.

You had read about Banshees before when you took a dual enrollment literature and folklore class.

You looked at Stiles with an angry and pointed look.

“Stilinski what the fuck is this?”

He was taken aback by your shift in demeanor.

“Is this funny to you?”

“What? No, Y/N, just list—"

“No, this is just too much. I thought you really cared about how I was feeling and if this is just you and your friend’s idea of a twisted joke, I don’t want any part of this.”

“Y/N I CAN EXPLAIN!” he continued.

You grabbed your stuff and ran out of the room, letting your long strides carry you further and further away from Stiles’s house.

As you walked through the school parking lot, you turned to find that stupid blue jeep following behind you.

Pulling up next to you, Stiles rolled his window down.

“Y/N!”

You stopped abruptly, causing him to slam on the brakes.

“Stiles, leave me alone.”

“Please Y/N, if you won’t talk to me just, please talk to Lydia or Scott. They’ll explain everything.”

You shook your head at him before walking away.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You had gone almost the rest of the day, successfully avoiding Stiles and his friends.

There was a close call at lunch when you saw Scott and Stiles standing on opposite sides of you a few feet away. Your friend was a saving grace as she appeared next to you, demanding to know why you were so late as she yanked you away to a table across the cafeteria.

However, as you sat in AP Government, your luck was wearing thin when Stiles chose to sit right next to you.

You glanced over to him, an annoyed look covering your face. To which he gave a cocky smirk and wave.

You angled yourself slightly so that you were facing away from him while still being able to sit forward in your desk.

As your teacher began the lesson you did your best to ignore Stiles’ constant attempts to get your attention.

From excessively tapping his foot and pencil, nudging the edge of your desk with his shoe, and leaning over the aisle so that he was now in your personal space.

“Y/N, c’mon,” he pleaded quietly.

“I’m trying to learn about our constitutional right to contraceptives, shut up,” you angrily whispered back.

“Y/N—” he continued.

“STILES SHUT UP!” you exclaimed.

Your teacher fell silent as she looked up to see you and Stiles sheepishly sinking into your seats.

“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Stilinski, am I interrupting your social time?”

“No, Mrs. Thomson,” you answered embarrassedly.

“Right, well if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to teaching. The two of you can catch up in detention.”

You groaned, turning to look at Stiles who had a satisfying grin on his lips.

After a grueling 40 more minutes, class ended, and you were reminded of your unfair punishment as you watched your classmates pack up around you.

Mrs. Thomson wrote an assignment on the board, before packing her bag to leave.

As she walked out of the class, she gave the both of you a pointed look, a silent threat that you would be in more trouble if you did not actually stay to finish the assignment.

You were surprised to find that Stiles remained silent for the first couple minutes of detention.

He seemed preoccupied with whoever he was texting.

Unfortunately, the silence was short-lived when Lydia, quickly followed by Scott and Kira, walked in.

This wasn’t just any detention; this was an ambush.

“This cannot be happening right now,” you sighed, your hands rubbing your face as Stiles chuckled.

“Brought reinforcements this time,” he joked.

Your eyes quickly darted to his, shutting him up instantly.

“Y/N—” Lydia started.

“Look, I’m not sure how you got involved with these two idiots,” you motioned to Scott and Stiles before continuing.

“But I’m not sure what else to say about last night.”

“We understand that this is confusing,” Kira spoke up.

“I really don’t know what you guys keep referring to.”

“Y/N YOU’RE A BANSHEE,” Lydia spoke next.

Your eyes widened at her statement.

“ARE YOU ALL ON DRUGS?” you exclaimed.

“Like me…you’re a banshee like me,” she finished quietly.

They must be on drugs.

“The supernatural, it exists, we exist…” Scott spoke up, looking around the group as he finished.

“We?” you questioned; confusion clearly etched on your face.

“Banshee” Lydia raised her hand, answering with a sense of confidence as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You turned to Kira, her eyes turning a fiery orange as she answered, “Kitsune, it’s from Ja—”

“Japanese culture, I know,” you quickly finished for her. Your eyes softened as you shifted your focus to Scott.

“Werewolf,” Scott answered, his eyes glowing a bright red as he looked at you.

“Okay…so, what are you, a life-sucking vampire?” you asked, turning to Stiles with a mocking grin.

“I’m—I’m nothing,” Stiles replied.

“So, the body in the woods? They were killed by something supernatural?” you questioned.

They all nodded their heads.

“And I was called to it because, I’m a Banshee?” you tried clarifying.

“Pretty much,” Stiles replied smartly.

“And what are you guys, some sort of super squad?” you joked.

“We help people who can’t help themselves,” Scott answered earnestly.

A moment of silence passed over the group as they allowed you to process all the new information you had learned.

“Can I drive you home?” Stiles asked.

You looked around before nodding, a small grin on your face before you spoke up.

“I would hope so, you kind of kidnapped me this morning.”

He rolled his eyes before letting out a genuine laugh.

“C’mon loser,” he said, as he started getting out of his seat.

“What about detention? You are the reason we got it in the first place?”

“Me? You were the one screaming in the middle of class!”

“Because you were bothering me!”

Lydia, Kira, and Scott looked to one another, silently agreeing to leave the two of you to figure it out.

There was a lot you didn’t know about the supernatural world in Beacon Hills, but what you did know was that you now had a group of people committed to helping you figure it out.

check out the rest of my stuff here

[loganwritesprobably]

Peter Hale Character Sheet

Context: Hales survived the fire AU

TW: Suicide attempt, Depressive thoughts, mention of vomit

Lots of headcanons in this one including my original Hale family tree!

𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂. 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎

"ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ."

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʙᴀꜱɪᴄ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Peter Sebastian Hale

ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ: N/A

ᴀɢᴇ: 33

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Cis male

ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ: He/him

ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Bisexual

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: October 27th

ᴢᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ ꜱɪɢɴ: Scorpio

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•+⋅

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5’10”

ꜱᴋɪɴ ᴛᴏɴᴇ: Fair

ʜᴀɪʀ: Brunette

ᴇʏᴇꜱ: Blue

ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ: N/A

ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴍᴏᴅꜱ: N/A

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Peter was never really sure what he wanted to do as a career. He mostly flew through his subjects at school, taking on extra study at home into druidic practices out of pure interest. He never found much of it particularly stimulating. As a result of this, he tested out of high school early, finishing a whole year before his peers (yes he rubs this in the face of Harris, who was the year above him in school). So, with an attitude like that and money to burn, Peter pursued multiple bachelor's degrees. 

He has a bachelor's in literature and one in law. He's always thought he should go back to school just to keep himself occupied but the more trouble Beacon Hills gets itself into, the more his hackles rise and his need to be close to home to protect his family only becomes stronger. He spent a large amount of his childhood babysitting, cooking and cleaning, taking care of not just his own children but also the children of the neighbourhood. Who was he to refuse playdates, particularly when local parents were in need of a helping hand?

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ

Peter has dabbled in a few different fields of work, from working with his degrees to menial work for family businesses, but nothing seems to stick. He has his hobbies but he doubts any of them could suffice as a career, like his enjoyment for cooking (but he could never work in a kitchen).

One business that he seems to always come back to, is his interior design work. He only takes clients that he is genuinely interested in working with, and makes sure to do his work to the finest detail perfectly. Clients don't always react well to working with a middle aged man, but he loves being able to prove them wrong. He only does a few jobs each year, whenever the desire strikes, but he enjoys it.

**⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅**

ʜᴏʙʙɪᴇꜱ

༓ Collecting old cars ༓ Collecting old books ༓ Interior design ༓ Language learning

Peter is a man with a lot of spare time and a lot of money.

His wealth of course lends itself to more expensive hobbies but he has never done anything you'd consider.. tasteless. He doesn't own boats, he doesn't 'flex' as he's heard the pups call it. He keeps it to himself. He owns a warehouse out in Beacon County where he stores his small car collection, something he hopes to sink more money into in future. 

He also collects old books. Books on the supernatural, on the old gods, old literature, first editions, books about magic forgotten by time, on druidic practices, anything bound with leather or cloth that costs over $50. He loves his small library (he owns not only his penthouse apartment but also one of the apartments on the floor below for just this purpose). Sometimes he wonders if he should buy a regular house.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ

☾ Romance novels ☾ Theatre ☾ Homecooked meals (especially if he had a hand in the cooking) ☾ Baked goods ☾ Tea ☾ Lavender

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴅɪꜱʟɪᴋᴇꜱ

☽ His father ☽ Bananas ☽ Tennis ☽ Supernatual movies/books/tv shows

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴀꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

His aspirations now pertain mostly to his pups. He wants to see them all graduate, and end up in places in their life where they're happy. He wants to help them in any way that he can. He has considered taking in some younger pups, adopting them, but he doesn't think Talia would approve. Some small part of him also aspires to finally escape from Talia's grip, but another part of him feels guilty for even thinking it. That's his sister.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

*ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ*

༓ Losing his siblings/niblings ༓ Hunters ༓ Discovery

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ

ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ

➼ Lincoln Hale ➼ Deceased

ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

➼ Lillian Hale ➼ Deceased

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

➼ Talia Hale ➼ Living

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ-ɪɴ-ʟᴀᴡ

➼ Nathaniel Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Laura Hale ➼ Living

ɴᴇᴘʜᴇᴡ

➼ Derek Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Cora Hale ➼ Living

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

➼ Mae Hale ➼ Living

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ-ɪɴ-ʟᴀᴡ

➼ Stuart Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Lucy Hale ➼ Living

ɴᴇᴘʜᴇᴡ

➼ Charlie Hale ➼ Missing, presumed deceased

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

➼ George Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Iris Hale ➼ Living

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

➼ Celia Hale ➼ Living

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ-ɪɴ-ʟᴀᴡ

➼ Brooke Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Sophie Hale ➼ Living

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

➼ Malia Tate ➼ Living

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Peter Hale is a family man. He was close with both of his parents for different reasons, and had special, unique relationships with each of his siblings. Though, this changed the older he became. Talia was his idol, Mae taught him control, George taught him how to fight and Celia was his best friend. When his siblings began having children, they became his whole world.

Out of all his siblings, he has given the most bottles, changed the most diapers and soothed the most scraped knees. It got to a point where some of his nieces and nephews would come to him with their problems over their own parents. It wasn't that they neglected their children, they didn't do that by any measure, (except for Talia, though Peter hated to admit it), he was just always there for them. Their parents worked, Uncle Peter took them to the park, their parents got home late, Uncle Peter cooked them dinner, their parents were too busy to make all their events, Uncle Peter went to every last dance recital, concert and basketball game.

He often got curious looks from teachers and parents, but Peter didn't care. He was there for his nieces and nephews, no matter what they needed. He'd pick them up from school and walk them home or wait for them when one of their parents was going to be late. One of Laura's teachers once asked if Peter was okay, she was worried he was caring for his nieces and nephews alone, but he only laughed. Of course, he wasn't, but also of course he would if he needed to. They're family.

Peter was an accident. It’s no secret in his family. At first, it had been something said by his mother, she wanted no secrets kept from him, and it was something to boast about. Some children were hated for being accidents, but Peter was loved despite it. When his mother died, his father changed that. Sometimes, in the cold, darkness of winter nights, Peter was sure he could hear his father muttering that his mother’s death was his fault.

When his eldest niece Laura was born, he was just five years old. He didn’t entirely understand what had happened except now he had someone new to look after and play with. He would sit in her nursery to play with his toys. This was when Talia still cared, so she would gently remind him to be quiet near the baby and to be gentle with her when he cuddled her. He was always gentle. He wouldn’t dream of hurting the baby.

He was seven when Derek was born, so he was old enough to understand everything and to want to help as much as he could. Though he wasn’t trusted with the baby just yet, this is when Talia’s care began to wander and so he was told that to help he could look after Laura. Peter agreed. He would sit with Laura in Derek’s nursery, and they would play and do colouring, just making sure the baby was okay. Derek had been born so close to Peter’s birthday that he had joked that Derek was his birthday present, him being born was like being given another friend.

When Iris was adopted he was eight. He welcomed her just the same, trusted slightly more with her than he had been with Derek when he’d first been born, but George also took more care with his daughter than Talia did with hers, so Peter felt less need to watch over her. Sometimes Derek was left crying for a long time, so Peter and Laura would climb into his crib, Iris rarely cried. She was a happy baby.

He was fourteen when Charlie was born, and then Cora. By now, he was more than just good with kids and so he took to them both like a duck to water. He loved them dearly. Laura was nine so she helped Peter where she could, though he made sure that she never did as much as he did. She was too little, not like Peter. Talia by this point had lost almost all of her interest in her children, so Peter took over. Not like Nathaniel had ever cared.

When Charlie went missing, it consumed Peter. He was just sixteen. He spent an entire year looking for him. It became his job, his life. Every morning, he ate breakfast so he'd have the energy to look for his nephew, he ate lunch so he wouldn't crash, he slept so he'd be rested enough to use his senses to their full potential. Then, one day, Talia told him to stop. They had quite the argument about it, Peter was desperate to find his nephew and Talia claimed Mae was more upset by his trying because she couldn't mourn her loss. So, he stopped. But he never let go of the hope that his nephew was out there, somewhere, safe, and happy.

During the time Charlie was missing, early on, he met an older woman named Corinne while he was out asking about Charlie. She could tell he was in distress and thought he was cute. She took advantage of this. Later that year, his daughter Malia was born, and Talia couldn't stand it, so she took away his memories of his daughter, made sure Corinne would never return, and put Malia into the adoption system as she had with Charlie.

Now, Peter has another son. A son of his own. Theo Raeken had turned up one day on his doorstep, soaking wet from the rain, with just a backpack and looking like he’d been crying. Theo had killed his previous ‘guardians’ and now needed somewhere to go. He’d known he could trust Peter. So, he took the Chimera in without a moment’s hesitation, finding comfort in having someone else in his large and empty apartment and enjoying having someone to care for again. It didn’t matter that Theo wanted it to be a secret, Peter was just happy to have someone to cook for and help with homework again.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ

Peter has never been someone who made friends. He had however been friends with the late Claudia Stilinski, and her husband Noah. When Claudia passed away, he became even closer with Noah, helping him with his almost addiction.

The only other real friend that he has is the newest addition to the Sheriff's department, one Jordan Parrish. An unlikely friendship that means a lot to Peter. Jordan was close to his age, just four years younger, where his other friend Noah was sixteen years older. It was nice to have someone he could relate to, joke with, and feed. Peter feeds everyone he cares about, especially his friends living in run down apartments that clearly have troubled pasts.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ

When Peter was sixteen, he got into a 'relationship' with Corinne, also known as the Desert Wolf. This relationship led to Corinne becoming pregnant with Peter's child and giving birth to Malia. Peter was being manipulated by the significantly older woman, it was clear to everyone when he told them about her. Talia resented that he'd had a child so young when the town's eyes were already on her because of how he treated her own children, so she took Peter's memories and put Malia up for adoption, erasing her from the family.

Following the trend of Peter preferring those older than him, he also fell into bed with one Deucalion Blackwood, who later became the Alpha of Alphas. Peter was nineteen this time around and so while it was legal, Deucalion was still much older than he was and so it was thrilling. The relationship was almost entirely sex and Peter loved it. He grew to love Deucalion. But, the other man didn't feel the same. After he became blind, he left Beacon Hills behind without so much as a goodbye.

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ

ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ

As a Werewolf, Peter’s body is in peak physical condition. Though, he still takes time to exercise to maintain his shape, because although his body was naturally inclined to health and wellness, that doesn’t mean he should let himself slack.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ

Peter has never been officially diagnosed with anything. This is something he holds onto no matter how people fight it. He refuses to be anything other than "normal" (though this is never something he'd force on others, just a strange standard he set for himself). Though, if you took him to a professional, he would undoubtedly be diagnosed with Autism.

Also, Peter has issues with anxiety. Had the fire happened, who could know how severe that would have become. Before Deucalion, Peter was generally uncaring for others unless they were family, but being involved with someone else opened him up to more feelings and so now has something of an abandonment issue problem. He also has issues with anxiety when it comes to departing from his routines.

Peter would say, looking back, that he might have had depression as a teenager. From around the time Cora was born. But he didn't have time to be depressed, he had little ones depending on him and grades to get. Besides, his siblings only just had time for their own kids they didn't have time for him. So, he ignored it. He packed all his issues into a little box and just kept going, his pups as the only highlight of his very gloomy life. He isn't sure it ever went away, but it got easier. Even if it did get a whole lot worse when his mother died. It's been creeping its way back in since he moved out, but he refuses to move back home or visit too often, lest Talia say something about it.

TW: Suicide attempt, Depressive thoughts, mention of vomit

Following his relationship with Deucalion, his mental health took a dive. There was a time where he thought he'd never come out of the dark spot. He wasn't helping the pups like he should, he was falling behind in school. It was hard. He couldn't find any positives, any silver linings, no reason to keep going. The pups had plenty of family, and even if they'd miss him, they'd learn to live without him. Maybe their lives would finally be normal. So.. he tried to OD.

Peter's attempt did not succeed. Of course it didn't, his body processed the pills quickly and he was throwing them up before he could even process that he felt sick at all. After that, the depression got worse for a while. He felt guilty for trying to leave, he hated himself for having to stay, he spoiled the pups for weeks following it just to make up for a sin they didn't know he'd committed. He never told anyone. They didn't need to know that he'd tried to take the coward's way out, since some part of him knew that an OD just wouldn't take.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ

Peter enjoys cooking, particularly for others, and so he often eats well. He shops at the farmer’s market, buying the highest quality ingredients possible in order to ensure that himself, and those he cares about, eat the best that they can. It’s important - and Peter is just a little bit of a snob when it comes to food.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ

Peter’s memory is significantly above average, that was how he managed to become so educated. He remembers every birthday, every event, every embarrassing thing you wish he’d forget.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ

Peter really values his sleep. He doesn’t often nap, but it’s important to him that he gets at least seven hours of sleep each night, though he prefers at least nine. He likes to sleep. Though, he doesn’t object to sleeping less if he’s needed for something.

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

[lunarruled]

At some point one of them was going to have to give in, and Kyleigh would be damned if it was her. She couldn't allow Cade to just go out there all by himself either and even if she had no idea what it was they were going to face, she knew she wanted in. So when he finally gave up, consenting to her helping him, she couldn't stop the pleased smirk that came to her face. "Good. I get the feeling that I should be saying that to you but we can skip that part. Now we just have to come up with a plan that's not going to get us both killed."

did he have a say in if she should help or not? somewhat. will he argue further about it? nope. because he's learned that it's a difficult battle, to argue with a woman, so he's going to be smart about this and not argue at all. it's also the safest route to go, too. ❝ alright, fine. you can help. but just.... stay safe when you do. ❞ he stated simply. he pressed his lips into a thin line then. a plan. which he hadn't thought that far yet. so if they put their heads together, they could figure something out. right?

[witchyfayex-a]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

name ✧ faye chamberlain. age ✧ twenty three. sexuality ✧ pansexual. date of birth ✧ february 25th 1995. place of birth ✧ chance harbour. species ✧ witch. gender ✧ female. pronouns ✧ she/her. current location ✧ beacon hills.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

bad habits ☾ keeping emotions bottled up, picking off nail varnish, resting bitch face hobbies ☾ self care, alchemy, astrology fears ☾ letting down her barriers, having her heart broken, losing anyone else.

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

faceclaim ◈ camila mendes. height ◈ 5'2''. hair colour ◈ black. eye colour ◈ brown.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 !

a powerful witch, faye chamberlain grew into her powers very quickly, loving the feeling of the raw power that coursed through her very being. she was told that binding her magic to the rest of the circle would make her more powerful, and was dismayed to find out that it did not. without her powers bound, she was a very powerful witch and was most skilled in telekinesis. she was able to do many things with her mind that the rest of the circle were not able to. that was taken away when the circle was bound. faye did not like to live by the rules, she wanted to be able to use her magic however and whenever she wanted, hating that she was forbade from doing so by the self appointed leader of the circle, diana meade. faye is known to be quite irresponsible, reckless and a little bit bitchy. but, when you get past the prickly surface, she's just an insecure little girl who likes to keep her feelings and emotions all to herself. the only person who knew the real her, was melissa, her best friend.

upon the arrival of cassie blake, faye found her jealousy getting the better of her, knowing that cassie was able to use her own dark magic outside of the circle's bindings. she despised the girl for that, wanting to be able to use her own magic without the help of any other member of the circle. faye longed for the binding to be broken, and she finally got her wish. the young witch now has her powers back and is just as strong as before, and she definitely is using those gifts to her advantage, and using them as much as she can, perhaps a little afraid that she may have to give up the control again if the circle requires.

as soon as they were free from the circle, faye and melissa took their leave. when the both of them turned twenty, they left chance harbour and moved to beacon hills, the two witches are a force to be reckoned with in the town. faye has gotten more accustomed to using her individual power, her strength in telekinesis has returned and she has even been teaching melissa a thing or two. although she should have been trying to fly under the radar since coming to town, faye has been doing the complete opposite. the woman has made herself well and truly at home and has been wreaking havoc on the townsfolk ever since she arrived.

[lupuslxna]

Hardened emerald hues regarded the room slowly, a sneer settling upon Lavi's visage at the sight of the teen with the glowing red gaze that stood near Derek. There was no understanding, no desire to even attempt to understand. The decision was already made and apparently any other opinion was bound to be regretted. How stupid. That idiotic hero complex and the way they all followed like blind cattle. That's how wars begin, innit? Ignorant fools. "What is it 'bout bein' an Alpha that makes even reasonable people behave like idiots?" He turned to leave then, opening the door to silently close it on his way out. Refusing to slam it behind him, to get on a kid's level. Unwilling to watch yet another disaster unfold.

⊰ ☾ ⊱~; The soft murmurs of the wolves gathered in the steel-cold room, the echo of discomfort and already spiked anxiety, and the tension wrapping around them seemed ready to snap. It was not a new situation that they found themselves in, in all honesty, this became more of standard practice which had to occur at least once per month. The distortion that had risen up ever since the Nemeton breathed out a gasp of air anew, its old roots trembling with the desire to once again suckle at the ley-lines which pumped with ferocity underneath the town of Beacon Hills; the very own veins of mother Earth that gathered in one spot as its center of pure energy. The tree, whilst not evil nor good since it held its spot as an observer and harmonious child of Gaia, was like a magnet for those who were anything else but human. Even the tiniest spark inside you would feel the want to stay near it, basking in the rich smell of sweetness and power.... it lured in also those who held darkness within their loins and heart. Harvest it...drink it up.....and you shall reign over thee..

Derek had felt it, actually, he can sense it whenever the smallest bit of the tree shivers or shrivels up into dust, the light scratching inside his chest almost feeling as if the thing wanted to part his lungs and ribs, opening it as a new door to step out reborn. Alas, something more sinister had come slithering inside the woods where his family once roamed. And whatever it was, it made the Nemeton reach out , offering its hand as a welcoming gift because a child of his had returned home at last- that part made no sense. It was common for the supernatural to go a little aggressive and insane after tasting a lick of the power that this thing held, but never until now did it act on its own, using the living things around it as tools to reach the goal. It was perhaps even a tad frightening, with an ominous aftertaste. "I think it would be the best that Derek stays on the last line with it, since it is tolerating his presence kinda the best? You were the only one that it took from us already too...I mean..you ok with that?" Derek did nothing else but nod his head, the memory of the few nights before still engraved in his mind with the taste of dirt covering his mouth. Being dragged through the earth whilst bound tightly by the roots, only to be impaled on a small branch as the Nemeton sucked on your blood like you were a teabag before throwing you off, was not pretty. But still, it didn't seem to find any more malicious interest in him after that; which was suspicious but fine.. " Lydia will be nearby, Liam and Malia a bit further up towards the town, and I... I will be there. Trying to find whatever or whoever it is that got a should on it. We can do this, we have to protect the people here, if anything happens don't fight- call for me." Scott was a good-hearted man, ready to be first in line when punches and hits were thrown an- The lycan stopped in his thoughts as heavy steps rattled the floor beneath them. It felt like a little earthquake, anger, and resentment coursing through it, with a small pinch of remorse. Lavi, unimpressed by their little plan- as always- didn't mind sharing his thoughts openly, with a bravado that didn't shrink no matter whom it was that stood on the other end. The coldness in his eyes was what always made the wolf soften up, knowing well that underneath that ice was hidden so much more, a wall after wall covering it with strictness and rules; there was a warmth that weirdly only he seemed to be able to see and bask in. Giving a weak smile to the group, Derek didn't hesitate to follow the redhead, tension wiring up the other male's body from head to toe, and when it snapped...he wanted to be there to soothe it, facing the fire with nothing on him but the willingness to embrace it. Knowing well how out of control it all can get, just like he had not once nor twice.

Being someone anchor is a privilege that is gifted upon one by a person. It can't be forced, it can't be only a sensation nor a change of heart at the given moment, you earn it. It is not a light title to carry, for you must be the reasonable and unreasonable one, the strength and weakness, the light to their darkness yet sometimes you become the darkness to their light. You become the reason, to stay.

[lunarruled]

"Oh none taken, and you're one hundred percent right. I have no involvement in this whatsoever, but I can't just let you go out there by yourself. I know you're fully capable and all, but this just seems like the kind of thing that you should have help with." Normally she wouldn't give two shits but Kyleigh couldn't just stand by and let some waltz right into danger. "So it's decided that we're both going to do something. Now we just have figure out what that something is."

❝ i'm willing to go out and do something about it, no matter if it's dangerous or not. no one else seems to be. i'm sure you would at least do a little bit, but not too much that it would cause you harm. no offence. ❞ he paused and inhaled deeply. ❝ everyone is turning a blind eye. i'm not. i'm not willing to do that. ❞