#(how inevitable it was that lydia was going to help pull allison back. there was no other option. that was their truth)

[lingeringscars]

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about how openly affectionate lydia was in the movie and how much GROWTH there is for that. How she's not an overly affectionate person and she RAN into malias arms. How she carried Jackson & ran into Allison's. How she reached out to Scott multiple times in the beginning. (In my head she also hugged mason <3). The way lydia has grown into someone who doesn't just reach out to comfort but for her own desire in a very real way just because she misses you and loves you. It's!!!! So much!!!!

It's even more important to me because I think all the time about Lydia's powers and how it DOES make getting close to people hard!! How she knows she can feel and see the people she loves die and what that means. It's all very real to her and could make it (and to some extent DOES make it) very hard to develop close, intimate bonds.

[selfignitingimagines]

Stiles- Gone (Obsessed Part 2)

TW: Stalking

A/N- As I said in my last post, I wrote Obsessed almost two years ago. I always wanted to finish the story, but I never got around to it and fell off from posting for a long time. I decided to split this next part into two, because it was getting pretty long. Part 3 should be out soon. Part 1 is linked here. 

“Where is everyone?”

Your quiet whisper caused your brother and Stiles to glance over at you. They seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Lydia’s birthday party was the event of the year. Actually, all of her parties were popular enough that she usually had to turn someone away. Now, as you stared out at her deserted back patio, the opposite seemed to be true. No one had even shown up, save for a couple people who had disappeared into the house a few minutes ago. 

The deck surrounding Lydia’s pool had been artfully decorated with string lights. Several tables nearby were stacked with snacks and drinks, and she had even ordered a silver fountain that contained some kind of bright pink punch.

It was a shame that the only people out there to appreciate the hard work were you, Stiles, and Scott. You knew Allison was coming because you had gotten ready at her house with Lydia, but you had left separately and she had yet to show up.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened behind you, and Allison stepped out onto the patio. Her dark hair was done up in an intricate braid, similar to the one Lydia had threaded your own hair into. She smiled at you as she walked over, but it didn’t meet her eyes.

“Jackson’s not here,��� she informed the three of you.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “No one’s here.”

“Maybe it’s just early,” Scott suggested.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Or maybe nobody’s coming because Lydia’s turned into the town whackjob.”

“Well we have to do something,” Allison insisted. “Because we’ve completely ignored her for the past two weeks.”

“She’s completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years.”

“I prefer to think of it as me not being on her radar,” Stiles told Scott.

Scott sighed. “We don’t owe her a party.”

“What about the chance to get back to normal?” you asked. “I mean, she wouldn’t be the town whackjob if it wasn’t for us.”

Scott’s face softened. “I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “Me and Y/n also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going.”

You grinned at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking, and Allison stared at the two of you in confusion. “Who?”

“We met them the other night,” you explained. “Let’s just say they know how to party.”

About half an hour later, Lydia’s house was filled to the brim with people. The entire lacrosse team arrived fashionably late, along with half the school. Even the drag queens you and Stiles met at Jungle had shown up. 

As it turned out, no one cared if Lydia had run naked through the woods for several days. She still knew how to throw one hell of a party.

You were currently helping her hand out drinks near the back door as people continued to flow in. Stiles watched you longingly from across the pool. He thought you were beautiful all the time, but with your hair done up and the party lights shining down on you, he felt the undeniable urge to walk over and kiss you. 

“What are you looking at?” Scott asked, following his gaze over to you.

“Uh, n-nothing,” Stiles sputtered. “Are you going to apologize to Allison?”

Scott frowned. “Why should I apologize?”

“Because you’re the guy,” Stiles reminded him. “It’s, like, what we do.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then you should definitely apologize. See, anytime a dude thinks he hasn’t done anything wrong, it means he’s definitely done something wrong.”

“I’m not apologizing.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Is that the full moon talking, buddy?”

“Probably,” Scott grumbled. “Why do you care anyway?”

Stiles threw up his hands in exasperation. “Because, Scott, something’s gotta go right here! I mean, we’re getting our asses royally kicked here, if you haven’t noticed. People are dying, I got my dad fired, you’re gonna be held back in school, I’m in love with your sister-”

Stiles suddenly let out a choking sound, realizing what he had just said. Scott stared at him with raised eyebrows, and then he let out a soft laugh. “I know, dude.”

“You...you do?”

Scott was looking at Stiles like he was stupid. “It’s pretty obvious. Plus, I heard you talking together in her room last night. You do remember I have super hearing, right?”

Stiles scratched the back of his neck. “Oh...right. Why didn’t you call us out on it?”

Scott shrugged. “I could tell something was wrong. I’m just glad she has you to talk to about it.”

Stiles nodded. “Everything’s so crazy right now. I don’t even know how we’d make it work, but if I don’t get the chance to find out, I’m going to stab myself in the face.”

“Don’t stab yourself in the face,” Scott said suddenly. 

“Why not?”

“Because Jackson’s here,” Scott told him. 

Stiles glanced over to the door. Sure enough, Jackson was walking into the party. Lydia smiled at him and placed a glass of punch in his hand. 

“Glad you could make it,” she told him.

He simply nodded at her and walked over toward the pool, closer to Stiles and Scott. You watched as Lydia’s lips turned into an ugly frown, but she quickly plastered a smile back on her face. 

“Maybe you should talk to him,” you suggested quietly.

Lydia let out a short laugh. “Please. He’s going to come talk to me by the end of the night. I refuse to chase after him...but I know he’ll probably be chasing after me later.”

You nervously glanced over at Jackson. If he was here, the person controlling him probably was too. Lydia had no idea how right she was. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that this party was going to end in disaster. The last thing you and the boys wanted was another dead body, but that seemed inevitable at this point. 

“I’m going to bring some punch to Scott,” Lydia told you, scooping another cup off the clothed table. “I wanna figure out what’s going on with him and Allison.”

You nodded, and as she walked away, you saw the back door open once more. You put down the glass of punch you had been sipping on. It was almost finished anyway, and you had to take over giving them out now that Lydia was gone. 

That was when you realized the figure walking through the door was Matt. You froze when his eyes landed on you. He stepped closer, and you wanted to turn away, but you were rooted to the spot. 

“Can we talk?” he asked. 

He looked sheepish, and you felt a twinge of sympathy. Matt didn’t look threatening. He had his hands nervously stuffed into his pockets, and he was rocking back on his heels. 

Besides, you were in a house full of people. What could he possibly do to you?

You nodded, and walked into the house, gesturing for him to follow. “You get two minutes.”

You headed toward one of Lydia’s spare bedrooms in the packed hallway, weaving through the crowded house. When you stepped into the room, Matt reached out to close the doors. When he saw you eyeing him, he stopped. 

“Right,” he muttered, propping the door back open. “So I know I took some pictures of you that I probably should have told you about...but is it really bad that I think you’re beautiful? And that I think you should be the subject of a perfect photograph?”

“Matt...I don’t even know how you got some of those pictures.”

“ A telephoto lens,” he informed you. “I mean, come on, Y/n. Photographers call them candids.”

“Well Stiles’ dad would call it stalking.”

Matt scoffed. “Stalking? So I’m a stalker now, is that it? You think my bedroom is wallpapered with your photos? You think I’m the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

A flash of bright red hair caught your attention as you looked past Matt. Lydia was weaving through the halls, pulling Stiles behind her as he grasped one of her hands. You felt your stomach flip.

You looked back to Matt, who was still talking. “Well you know what? Get over yourself, because there’s another pretty girl walking through the room every five minutes.”

You held up your hands. “Well then all you have to do is wait another three.”

“Y/n, wait!”

You strode past him, but he grabbed your arm, yanking you back to face him. The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you met Matt’s eyes. They were cold and angry, and they didn’t leave your face once. 

Suddenly, he let you go. “Hey, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You must think I’m such a freak.”

He was back to being sheepish, self-deprecating Matt, but you weren’t sticking around to fall for the act any longer. You had to find Stiles and tell him what happened. The first chance you got, you were going to take his advice and go to the police. 

You rushed out of the spare room and headed in the direction of Lydia and Stiles. They had disappeared down a deserted hall, and when you turned down it, you saw the two of them tucked into a corner. 

Lydia had her hands resting on Stiles’ chest. He was leaning down and kissing her as his hands tangled in her strawberry blonde curls. You swallowed, and started to back up, but then he looked up at you. 

His lips curled into a cruel smirk, and Lydia glanced over her shoulder at you.

“What?” he asked with a sharp laugh. “You actually thought I’d choose you instead of Lydia?”

Your throat went dry. You wanted to say something, to tell him that you thought he had cared about you the other night, but you couldn’t speak.

“Come on, Y/n,” Lydia chimed in. “You really think you could compete with me?”

“You’re Scott’s little sister,” Stiles continued. “Your little crush was never going to turn into anything.”

Stiles turned back to Lydia, and the two of them began to make out again. You stumbled back, bumping right into someone else. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” A blonde girl in a tube top snapped. 

You blinked, suddenly realizing that there were other people flowing through the hallway. When you looked back into the corner Stiles and Lydia had been in, it was empty, as if they had never been there at all. 

You shook your head, trying to shake off what you had just seen. It wasn’t real, but it definitely felt like it. You stumbled back toward the pool, wanting to find the others. You had only had one full cup of that punch, but there was definitely something wrong with it. 

You had only been drunk a few times before, but you had never hallucinated an entire conversation with two people. This had to be something else. 

You tried to make your way back toward the living room, but you only made it as far as the kitchen. Lydia’s house seemed to blur before your eyes, and you realized that the punch had hit you harder than you thought. 

You leaned back against the counter, but you ended up slowly sinking down to sit on the kitchen floor, too dizzy to stand up. You were probably only sitting there for a few minutes, but it felt like hours until you heard a familiar voice say your name. 

“Y/n?”

It was Lydia. She was kneeling in front of you, clearly concerned. You felt a twinge of jealousy as you thought back to that scene in the hallway. You wanted to tell her to leave you alone, but you knew you had no real reason to be mad at her. Lydia didn’t actually have feelings for Stiles. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Should I get Scott?” “No,” you said quickly. “He’ll be upset at me. What did you put in that punch?”

Lydia’s lips quirked up. “It’s a secret recipe. You should really be more careful, Y/n.”

“Is she okay?” you heard someone else ask. 

You glanced up, but the other figure blurred as your head began to spin. 

“I think I can handle this on my own, Jackson.”

“Do you want me to get her a bottle of water?”

“Uh, yeah, that would be great.”

A couple minutes later, a blurry hand was holding a water bottle in your face.

“Can you stay with her for a second? I actually have something I need to take care of.”

He must have said yes, because Jackson sat down next to you and opened the bottle. “You need to drink as much of this as you can.”

You eyed him carefully, and even in your drunken state, you managed to be suspicious. 

“What?” he asked. “I can’t do something nice?”

You were silent, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Have a killer hangover in the morning. See if I care.”

The more you thought about it though, the more you realized Scott would be disappointed if you couldn’t sober up. So you took the bottle from Jackson’s hand and began to drink. 

You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but Lydia never came back, and Jackson eventually got up and left. Even after drinking the water, you felt terrible. In fact, you might have even felt worse. 

The room was blurring around you, and you were getting sleepier by the second. When a pair of legs came into your view and stopped, you weren’t even concerned that you didn’t recognize them. You didn’t protest as arms came around your waist to steady you and pull you to your feet.

You felt something wet soaking into your dress, and you flinched away. 

“It’s just water. I fell in the pool.”

“Stiles?” you mumbled, as you were led out of Lydia’s house. 

“It’s okay,” a voice was telling you, but you were too out of it to realize who was talking. “We’re going to the jeep.”

Your head lolled onto the figure’s wet sleeve, and you caught sight of the stars, blurring above your head in the night sky. 

“It’s pretty,” you mumbled. 

“It is,” the voice agreed.

Stiles laid you in the passenger seat. He clicked the seatbelt across your chest and shut the doors. You ran your fingers along the seat and the door, feeling the smooth leather interior. 

“This isn’t the jeep,” you realized sleepily. 

The car was too sleek. It was too nice to be Stiles’.

“It’s okay, we’re just going home.”

Steady fingers tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. You felt sicker by the second, and it wasn’t just because of the alcohol. “Where’s Stiles?”

When you heard the driver’s side door shut, you looked over to see who had rescued you. You felt your stomach drop. 

“Matt,” you choked. 

He looked over at you and smiled. You reached up, weakly fumbling with the door handle, but your fingers kept slipping. Everything was too blurry, and Matt wasn’t offering any help either. 

“No,” you whispered. “Please let me out.”

He laughed softly and hushed you, reaching out to grab your hand. He squeezed your trembling fingers and smiled. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“No,” you kept mumbling, but as Matt started the car, you began to fade. 

You watched as the streetlights passed through the window, blurring into gold and white blobs. With your eyes slowly drifting shut, you wondered where your brother was. How long would it take Scott and Stiles to realize you were gone? Would they be able to find you? And if they weren’t, what would Matt do to you?

-----

“The cops are here!”

All of Lydia’s guests scattered from around the pool. Scott grabbed Stiles by the arm and tugged him back from the panicking crowd. 

“Where’s Matt?” he demanded. “Where did he go?”

They scanned the crowd, but Matt, along with Jackson, was gone. 

“Wait, Scott, have you seen your sister?” Stiles asked. 

“Not for a while.”

Stiles went pale. “We need to find her.”

“Why?” Scott demanded, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder before he could turn away. “What do you know that I don’t?” The horrified look in his friend’s eyes sent an uneasy chill through Scott. “Stiles?”

“Matt was watching her,” Stiles admitted. “She told me last night that he was taking pictures, stalking her. She saw them when he left his camera in the car. I wanted to tell you, but there wasn’t time…”

Scott felt the air leave his lungs. If Matt was controlling the Kanima and he got his hands on you, there was nothing you could do to protect yourself. 

Together, he and Stiles searched through Lydia’s house, narrowly avoiding the cops outside. His attempts to catch a scent failed, and they had no idea where Matt would have taken you. 

Allison had left a few minutes before the cops showed up with no explanation. Scott never got the chance to ask her about it, but he was willing to bet it had something to do with her family. His texts to her had gone unanswered, so he had to assume she hadn’t seen you. 

Lydia was nowhere to be found either, but Scott was able to track her scent to the treeline at the edge of her property. It was strange, though she could have just been taking a walk to clear her head. You were his biggest priority right now, and neither he or Stiles could find any trace of you.

“We have to call the police,” Scott told him after they finished. “She’s gone.”

Stiles nodded, running a nervous hand through his hair. They were standing in Lydia’s driveway, gazing out into the dark neighborhood. The cops were long gone by now, but Stiles had a feeling they wouldn’t take your disappearance seriously. It was a party, you had been drinking, and everyone had scattered. 

Stiles had grown up with most of the police officers at the station. He knew the way they thought. He knew how plausible it was for them to assume you were just laying low for a while, trying to avoid getting busted for underage drinking. 

“No,” Stiles told Scott. “We have to call my dad.”

“Isn’t he still mad at you?”

“It doesn’t matter. If Matt’s willing to kill the people who piss him off, what do you think he’s gonna do to Y/n when she rejects him?”

Scott didn’t answer. All he could think about was the way Matt’s victims had been ripped apart by the Kanima. If he was really obsessed with you, maybe he wouldn’t hurt you, but they had no way of knowing for sure. They could only hope that you were clever enough to stay alive as they raced to find you. 

[softranswolves]

Mournful Monkshood

LAURA HALE APPRECIATION WEEK - DAY ONE THEME: LAURA DIDN’T DIE

Rating: T

Words: 1151

On AO3 here

Sitting on the steps of what once was Hale House, Laura glances over at the sparring teens, amusement playing at her lips. It's been a solid year since everything happened, and she sees the grove of monkshood in the distance, far enough to not tamper with her pack's senses but close enough to still see. Deaton planted it this past spring as a surprise, and Laura couldn't be prouder.

As Scott, Stiles, and Derek throw down in the treeline, honing their werewolf senses now that the fight with Peter and Kate is over, Laura feels a small bit of peace. Being called back to Beacon Hills amid the pain and horror of losing Cora so violently and unexpectedly tore her world apart. Derek's too, but he wasn't the Alpha. He wasn't the one responsible for their baby sister.

It had all started with Peter regaining his powers enough to go hunting. At first, he was simply drawn to the moon's bidding and killed without consciousness, but he came back to himself much quicker than he admitted to anyone, even his now-dead nurse. He hatched a plan during those months of isolation, free from his coma but enjoying the freedom of being presumed brain dead. He wanted to draw Laura in, kill her to take the family's spark that he felt rightfully belonged to him. Cora found out. She had already been tracking him, distrustful of him even as a child before everything happened. Apparently it wasn't just the Alpha he was willing to kill in his quest for power.

"Laura!" She hears Derek's voice, loud and alert but without true danger. "Laura! Get your betas off me!" Scott and Stiles have crushed him underneath their bodies, giving up on the actual training only to puppy-pile and force him to cuddle.

He was still warming up to them, though helping his big sister get justice was even more of a motivator. She'd asked his thoughts on building the pack back when they first returned, seeing how inquisitive the boys were as they searched outside of Stiles' father's purview for the body. It started as a simple way to start their sophomore school year with excitement, but quickly morphed into wanting to do the right thing.

After she and Derek talked it over, she explained the option of the bite to them, what it would give them as well as what it would cost. She didn't try to convince them, merely gave the facts, but they accepted without too much hesitation. They trusted her, and she had to learn how to cope with that, after losing one of the only other people she had already been given the responsibility of.The others were changed shortly after, though not originally out of a desire to build the pack. As the teens investigated at school, particularly the guidance counselor that seemed to know a little too much, Scott's connection to the Argent daughter bloomed into something deeper. Her aunt, the woman responsible for Laura losing her family to begin with, had returned to town. Laura implored Scott to not trust Allison, but as teens are wont to do, he didn't listen.

When Allison inevitably found out about him and Stiles being werewolves, she was fearful, but her mind hadn't been warped by the Argent legacy and forbears yet, and she came to accept him. On a routine hunt, her aunt accidentally shot her instead of Scott, and her father was the one to ask Laura for help. He'd been connected to her mother, a genuinely peaceful treaty drawn between them before hell broke loose. He knew what the Hales were here for from generations back, and he swore he wanted to uphold that tradition. As she lay dying in his arms, he offered to join her pack; when told he could stay human and still be pack, he practically snarled, saying he needed to show they were still human. Laura thought he meant the Argent family, but she was wrong. Chris was a good man, and he only became stronger and more focused after the bite.

Laura is broken out of her reflection when she hears the sound of a car pulling up, though it takes longer to actually see it on the trail. Standing, she listens for who it is, relief washing over her when she hears. The car finally parks, and out comes Laura's favorite redhead and deputy, the former running to jump into Laura's arms for a hug. They hold tight for a few moments after Laura spins them around and places Lydia back on the ground, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to Jordan for a kiss on the cheek."

You made it," Laura breathes out.

"Of course we did," Lydia says, gentle smile on her face. "She was important to you, so she's important to us." She squeezes Laura's hand and follows as they walk back to the house, skirting around to the back instead of inside.

Allison and Chris already stand at the grave, Chris' arm wrapped around Allison's shoulders. Victoria stands on the other side, still somewhat prickling with discomfort but willing to not only be there, but stay as well.

"Thank you for coming," Laura says to the Argents, two of whom are more officially a part of the pack. They have continued to hunt with Allison's new code, to protect those cannot, and Victoria's love for her husband and daughter encouraged her to stay with them and adapt to the changes. She didn't have as much of a stake in events as Chris, considering it was his sister who started the entire mess, but she still took responsibility for not seeing the threads of manipulation sowed by Gerard sooner.

"It's our honor," Victoria says, meeting Laura's eyes. "I can't imagine what it must have been like to lose your sister, especially when she was pack. I know my world changed when I almost lost Allison." She shifts her gaze to her daughter and gives her a tight smile.

Derek, Scott, and Stiles join the group, their panting breaths breaking the tension. Derek goes straight to the headstone and sits next to it, leaning his forehead against the side as he used to do with Cora when she was alive. Laura steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight.

"She'd be proud of you," Stiles says. When offered the bite, Stiles was the first to accept, remembering playing with Cora as a child when Laura would babysit him. Scott was sometimes a part of those memories, but that was before his dad left, when his home wasn't filled with emptiness and loss like Stiles'.

Laura turns to Stiles then, tears in her eyes, and pulls him in for a hug, not wanting to let go. She savors the knowledge that she has a pack again, and they'll do anything to protect her.

[teenwolfsnippets]

A Bad Trip in An Even Worse Life

It's a slow night at the bar, when possibly the most beautiful male specimen walks through the door. Stiles gapes a little before Boyd, his coworker, slaps his shoulder to snap him out of it. Right, being professional, he can do this. The man takes a stool and Stiles greets him, trying not to stare too much.

"What can I get you?" he asks.

"Scotch, neat," he orders.

His voice is smooth and has Stiles' heart fluttering. The man's wearing a dark suit that hugs all his muscles nicely and his stubble is so perfectly groomed, Stiles wants to touch it, maybe lick it. That was not professional at all.

He quickly fixes the man's drink and totally doesn't check to see if he's wearing a wedding ring, which he isn't by the way. Which doesn't mean he's single and Stiles really needs to get back to work. Stiles wipes down the bar and can't help the occasional glance. The man is avidly watching the television above the bar and Stiles subtly moves closer.

"Giants fan?" he asks.

The man looks to him, frowning.

"I don't really follow football," he replies.

Stiles nods.

"I think there's a baseball game on," he offers.

The guy shrugs and he's not particularly chatty. Stiles changes the channel anyway and receives a nod as a thank you. Stiles watches him for the next twenty minutes and the man keeps looking at his watch.

"Want another?" he asks, holding the bottle up.

The guy sighs, looks at his watch again, and then nods.

"Waiting for someone?" Stiles pries.

"Yeah," is all the answer he gives.

Stiles should probably leave him alone, but he can’t help himself.

"You from around here?" he asks.

The man frowns, but seems to relax again after taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah," he says again.

Stiles nods.

"Me too. I'm Stiles, by the way," he says.

A brow raises, which he's used to.

"Derek," the man grunts.

"So, Derek, is it business or pleasure tonight?"

"Business," he says, sipping his drink.

Stiles nods and is about to ask what he does, when the person he's been waiting for slides onto a stool. He almost drops his rag because he knows the guy.

"Stiles, how've you been?" Aidan asks.

He takes a breath and continues to wipe down the bar.

"I'm fine," he says, nodding politely.

Derek glances between them, still frowning. Of course Derek would work with this guy because that's how his life rolls.

"Can I get a drink?" Aidan asks.

Stiles smiles tightly.

"What would you like?"

"Whatever my friend here is having is fine," he replies.

Stiles glances at Derek, who's scowling so hard at the other guy it almost makes him laugh. He fixes the drink and can't help but glare at the wedding band on Aidan's finger. The guy was an ass, Stiles doesn't know what she sees in him.

"So, Derek, shall we?" he asks, pointing to a table a few feet away.

Derek huffs, but agrees.

"Oh and Stiles," Aidan calls, grinning.

Stile glares at him.

"Lydia says hi, by the way."

The glass he'd been holding thumps onto the counter and Aidan laughs. Stiles' heart is pounding and he really wants to punch this asshole in the face. He's instantly stepping around the bar, planning on doing exactly that, but Boyd holds him back. He sees Derek pulling Aidan away, who'd chuckled and taunted him to come at him. Stiles struggles for a minute, but Boyd is a mountain.

"It's not worth it, man, come on," he mutters.

Stiles and Aidan stare each other down until the former finally agrees that no, getting fired for punching this jerk isn't worth it. He backs off and his coworker tells him to cool off outside, which he does. Stiles seriously doesn’t know what Lydia sees in him. When he thinks about how this man is raising his kid-

Stiles shakes his head. She made it clear, the kid isn't his, whether that's biologically false or not. She's right though. After what happened, he doesn't deserve any rights over that child. Stiles pushes the thoughts away, counting his breathing like he'd been taught as a child. He's only out there for about ten minutes when he hears shouting from inside. Rushing back, he finds the two men in a heated argument, something about finances or fraud. Stiles can’t really follow it. What he does know is that by the end of it Aidan is in Derek's face, threatening someone named Cora and that's when Derek's fist goes flying. He gets in a few good punches before Aidan tackles him to the ground. Boyd jumps into the fray, pulling Aidan off the other. Stiles doesn't hesitate to intervene when Derek gets up for another attack, holding the man back. Derek surprisingly doesn't fight him and is visibly trying to calm down.

"If you ever go near her, I-" Derek starts.

"You'll what? What are you gonna do, Derek?" Aidan chuckles.

Stiles thinks he could do plenty, if the hard muscle he's feeling beneath Derek's sleeve is anything to go by. Derek does shake him off then, advancing on Aidan, but Boyd pulls him away and eventually shoves the guy right out the door.

Stiles glances at Derek and gently prods him to sit at the bar again and the man follows willingly. He scoops up some ice and wraps it in a dish towel.

Derek quirks a brow and Stiles says, “For your hand.”

He takes it after a few seconds, nodding a thank you.

“’Nother round?” Stiles offers.

The man sighs and glances at his watch.

“No, I should really get home,” he says, but doesn’t move to leave.

“Sorry about, you know, the fight,” he mumbles.

Stiles snorts and say, “Dude, don’t be sorry. You punched Aidan in the face. You are officially on my list of favorite people.”

Derek’s lips twitch in an almost smile, making Stiles full on grin.

“So, you a lawyer then?” he asks.

“No, I own the firm,” he replies.

“Huh,” Stiles says.

Derek nods and they’re quiet for a few minutes as Stiles cleans glasses.

“How do you know him?” Derek asks eventually.

Stiles fumbles the glass because he has no idea how to answer that.

“He, uh, well, it’s a long story,” he eventually stutters.

He looks away, not wanting to talk about it and Derek thankfully drops it. The guy takes out his wallet to pay, but Stiles tells him it’s on the house. It earns him another lip twitch and Stiles suddenly wonders what a real smile would look like.

“A tip then,” he says, sliding a bill across the counter.

Derek leaves after that and Stiles doesn’t watch him go because that would be unprofessional. He picks up the folded bill and almost chokes on air because he just got a hundred dollar tip. Not even the regulars tip that well. Derek has moved to number 3 on his list of favorite people, right after Scott and Allison.

Stiles lingers around the bar after closing and is surprised when Boyd starts chatting to him about some band they have in common. Though unexpected, it’s definitely welcome. He’d been working at this place for about 2 months and he and his new coworker really haven’t said much to each other. Apparently he’s lived in Beacon Hills his entire life, but he was home-schooled, which explains why they never met. They talk about simple things like movies, books, music, television shows, etc. After an hour there’s an awkward moment of silence and Boyd pulls out two beers, handing him one.

“No thanks,” he says, waving it off.

Boyd looks a little disappointed, making Stiles sigh and reach into his back pocket. He flips his 5 month chip onto the counter and awaits the inevitable, but Boyd surprises him again by simply nodding.

“Gotta face your problems sooner or later, right?” he murmurs.

Stiles huffs a laugh and nods in return. They part ways after that, going home to sleep after a long shift. His apartment is only a few blocks away, but he’s not stupid enough to walk it. Not in this neighborhood, not at night. He even runs across the parking lot to get to his jeep as fast as possible. There’s a chance he’s being a bit paranoid, but it’s better to be safe than sorry around here.

Derek doesn’t stop in for another week, leaving Stiles’ nights completely uneventful and boring. The night he does show, Stiles isn’t bashful about greeting him with a wide smile.

[strangerivy]

The Beginning - Twenty - Finale

Summary: Jackson and Kacy make sure to get Lydia to the hospital but both Stiles and Scott are no where to be found. Warnings: Swearing | Violent Depictions | Burns  Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Kacy) Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Angst Word Count: 2.9k Author’s Note: Here we go! The final chapter to The beginning. Thank you all so much for reading! and look forward to the next part in this Series. I will make more announcements as it gets closer to release time for it.

|| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Masterlist ||

My body tensed and it felt like my skin was on fire as I went through emotion after emotion. I covered my mouth as this information finally began to settle in and the reality of one of our biggest fires was coming true, “You told them,” I whispered mostly to myself as Jackson stood there dumbfounded. His mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

I let out a heavy sigh, running my hands through my hair as I tried to figure out what to do. Who to go to in this situation? I looked down the hall each way frowning when I did not spot Stiles. He had to be back on his way soon. I turned back towards the gym scanning the heads of the crowd, but it looks Scott and Allison were both gone as well. Wait. I panicked as I scanned the gym again.

“Where the hell is he?” I panicked not spotting the familiar mop of brown hair. I was about to run out and search when the sound of a cell ringing caught my attention making me abandon that thought.

Jackson stood behind me motionless with wide eyes unsure of what to do, his cell phone lying in the palm of his hand that was shaking slightly.

“Dammit Jackson,” I groaned quickly grabbing it from him looking at the screen recognizing the number before quickly opening it.

“Stiles?” I breathed with relief, a wave of relief rushed over me that was much too short when I heard the fear and seriousness in his voice.

“Lydia is in the field,” was all he said before I heard a dial tone. What the hell is going on? I closed my eyes for a half-second and took a deep breath as I grabbed a hold of Jackson's arm pulling him out the doors of the school taking off in a jog towards the Lacrosse field.

Jackson slowly started to come back to his senses as he yanked on his arm in my death tight grip.

“What the hell, McCall, Let go!” He spat, I turned around quickly to tell him off, but a deep growl left my throat as well making him shut up instantly. I let go of his arm, but he followed me out to the lite up Lacrosse field.

The sight was awful as we walked up to her bloody and limp body in the field. If I couldn’t hear the faintness of her heart I would have thought she was dead.

“Lydia,” I whispered as Jackson quickly got down trying to wake her, but she was not moving. I hit his shoulder to grab his attention, “Pick her up, we- we need help.” I choked out trying to hold back my tears, he nodded before gently picking her up bridal style. I grabbed ahold of his phone in his hand again, dialing 911.

“Hello? Yes. We need an ambulance at Beacon Hills High, there’s been an accident.” I said to the operator. “Our friend she’s- she’s bleeding- I don’t – we just found her,” I answered her questions on the other end in a panic as we rushed to the parking lot.

It was only a few minutes before the ambulance got to the school getting Lydia on a stretcher and headed to the hospital. Jackson and I quickly got in his car following the ambulance to the hospital.

“What the hell is going on Kacy?” he asked me after a few minutes of driving the flashing lights of the ambulance shining through the window as we followed.

I let out a heavy frustrated sigh, “I don’t know,” I answered.

“You have to know something!” He shouted angrily hitting the steering wheel, the ambulance was now fading in front of us as it speeds towards the hospital.

“Look Jackson, I don’t know anything!” I shouted back as tears started to fill my eyes. I quickly whipped them away, “I wished I did,” I whispered staring out the window.

The rest of the ride was quiet, we pulled up to the hospital quickly parking and rushing in. I quickly asked a nurse in which direction and she pointed down the hall.

Jackson pushed the double doors open and we rushed to the window of the room that had Lydia in it. Lydia laid still in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask on and an IV in her arm. Mr. Stilinski showed up pulling Jackson aside clearly angry. I stood back watching the conversation as he questioned Jackson on what the hell was going on.

Jackson was clearly flustered by the sudden rapid fire of questions that were coming out of Mr. Stilinski, unsure of how to answer them.

“She’s your girlfriend! She’s you responsibly,” He yelled at Jackson grabbing him by the collar shoving him into the wall not hard enough to hurt though.

“She’s not though!” Jackson yelled, “She didn’t go to the formal with me!”

“She went with some lacrosse guy!” I yelled stepping in, grabbing Mr. Stilinski’s attention. He took a deep breath before letting Jackson go and turning towards me. I raced to come up with an explanation that stuck to the truth as much as I could. “She-she went looking for Jackson at some point,” I explained.

“When was that? Did you see her later?” Mr. Stilinski asked trying to stay calm, I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. “Kacy you need to tell me what is going on.” He spoke calmer this time releasing that I was still in slight shock by this event.

“No, she never came back to the gym,” I finally answered quietly, Mr. Stilinski let out a frustrated sigh before realizing the missing person in this room.

“Kacy,” I felt my heart start to beat rapidly in my chest as I waited for the inevitable question, “Where is Stiles?”

I quickly raced through my brain trying to come up with something. Anything.

“He-” I started, collecting myself “he went to the bathroom and Jackson came and saw me asking about Lydia. So, I went with Jackson looking for her. I haven’t seen him since.” I finished praying that he believed me, he rubbed his face clearly upset but turned to speak with his officers.

I walked over to Jackson, standing quietly with him, and froze when a sound rippled through the air. A howl. A deep howl that I instantly recognized even though I had never heard it. Scott.

The double doors slamming open grabbed my attention and Stiles came through the door looking quickly around the room I went to take a step to go and grab him, but Jackson grabbed ahold of my wrist. I glared at him and he gave me a look telling me to wait. I looked back at Stiles to see Mr. Stilinski now talking to Stiles.

“Did you see anything?” Mr. Stilinski asked Stiles my hearing easily picking up the conversation. “I mean do you have any idea on who or what attacked her?”

“No, no I didn’t see anything,” Stiles answered his breath a little erratic. Jackson and I walked up to Lydia’s room window. They had cleaned a lot of the blood off of her body, but she was still badly bruised.

“Okay well did Scott see anything?” Mr. Stilinski asked, I turned slightly to look over at Stiles.

“Wait?” Stiles looked at Jackson and me and we both shrugged, not sure where my brother was either. “He’s not here?”

“No, I’ve been calling him on his cell but he’s not answering,” Mr. Stilinski answered

Stiles and his dad continued to chat going out into the hall. I waited a few minutes before pulling on Jackson’s sleeve motioning him to follow. We walked down the hall and then threw some doors into an empty wing.

“Stiles,” I yelled making him stop in his tracks turning just in time to catch me running into him,

“Hey,” He whispered sounding relieved to see me, he pulled me tight to him rubbing my back gently kissing the side of my head.

“Where are you going?” Jackson asked Stiles, I pulled away but grabbed a hold of his hand.

“I’m going to find Scott, speaking of which, Kacy,” I looked up at Stiles with a raised eyebrow. “You’ll be faster than us, you need to go.” He commanded. I gave him a confused look.

“What’s going on?” I asked him growing a little worried by the panicked look in his eyes, he shook his head pushing me towards the exit.

“He’s at the Hale house. Go Kac.” He said kissing me before giving me a shove to go. The hale house. I slowly nodded not questioning more but could not help the scared expression on my face as I took off out the doors and into the woods, the quickest route to the Hale house.

I ran on all fours as I was much faster that way. I stood up slowing down as I got closer to the house picking up Scott’s scent but all Allison’s and someone else. A gunshot rang through the trees and my eyes went wide as I began to panic. I ran through the trees with the house in my sights stopping in my tracks at the sight.

Allison’s aunt stood over Scott with a gun pointed at him. Derek laid motionless only a several feet from him. I let out a growl before a hand grabbed my arm stopping me. I looked at it following it to its owner. Mr. Argent. He walked past me; gun pulled out at his side.

“Kate!” He yelled catching her attention, I walked slowly behind him keeping a small distance. “I know what you did.” He said to her “Put the gun down,” He demanded, Scott and I made eye contact, he was scared as Kate held that gun to him. Dammit. I felt my eyes begin to water a tear falling down my cheek as I feared for my brother. Kate not budging at her brother’s words.

“I did what I was told,” Kate answered simply, not an ounce of remorse in her voice.

“No one asked you to murder innocent people.” Mr argent said “There were children in that house, ones who were human. Look what you’re doing now. You’re holding a gun at a 16-year-old boy with no proof he spilled human blood. We go by the code nous chassons ceux qui nous chaseent.” Allison’s aunt stared at him with a smirk, almost challenging him to do something with my brother’s life hanging in the middle.

"We hunt those who hunt us,” Allison whispered what sounded like the translation to what he just said. Kate’s finger grabbed the trigger tighter and I got ready to charge if he wasn’t going to make a move. He raised his gun at Kate.

“Put the gun down.” He commanded her again, she looked at his gun and he fired hitting the tree right beside her. “Before I put you down,” Kate reluctantly lowered her gun but then a creaking sound came from the house. I ran towards Scott staring at the door as it appeared to open on its own. Both Kate and Mr. Argent point their guns at the door.

I could feel my wolf sense start to heighten as I sensed the Alpha right in front of us hiding the shadows of the house.

“What is it?” Allison asked fear in her voice

“The Alpha,” Scott answered, we stood our ground to see what move Peter would make, a flash of brown raced through the door, but he was so quick you couldn’t even tell where he was. I felt a powerful push hit my legs knocking me to the ground and then one by one the others till Kate was the last standing.

“Come on!” She shouted egging on Peter, she was cocky. Like she didn’t think he would kill her but she was still human and I could smell the fear on her.

I watched as Peter stopped in front of her grabbing her wrist forcing her to point her gun in the air before a loud crack came from her arm when he hit it with his other hand. He grabbed ahold of her throwing her towards the house disappearing with her into it.

“No!” Allison shouted running after her. I crawled over to Scott shaking him awake. He got up quickly and I went over to Derek. He was still breathing. That much I could tell. I dug my finger into the bullet hole, and he screamed waking up as I pulled it out.

“Come on,” I shouted running towards the house unphased by what I had just done. I stopped right next to Allison with a growl at Peter as he started to stalk towards her. Scott and Derek right next to me.

“Kacy?” Allison asked seeing my changed features.

“Run,” Scott told her, and she did without question. All three of us charged Peter but he quickly knocked all three of us back. I was first to recover, jumping over a desk, lunging at him with my claws but he grabbed both my wrist sending me flying back into the brick fireplace my head breaking the brick.

I felt disoriented and could hear the fighting going on but couldn’t bring myself to stand yet. An outline of a person fell not too far from me and my sight began to clear up noticing it was an unconscious Derek.

I shot up seeing Peter fully transformed into his alpha form. He grabbed hold of Scott tossing him out of the house and then jumped through a window. I got up following him jumping on his back, but he quickly grabbed ahold of me tossing me towards Scott. A car horn sounded, and I turned to see Stiles and Jackson getting out of Jackson's Porsche.

Stiles threw a beaker of some liquid at Peter, but he quickly caught it. Growling towards Stiles, I quickly scrambled to my feet getting in front of them with a loud threatening growl towards Peter. Scott shouted for Allison tossing her bow at her and she quickly placed an arrow drawing back shooting the vile dead-on causing it to burst into flames lighting up Peters’ arm instantly.

Peter growled in pain as another bottle flew at him hitting his torso lighting his whole body in flames. Peter made one more attempt at grabbing Allison, but Scott was quick to intervene kicking him away. Peter slowly crawled his body transforming back into his human form now completely burned once again. He collapsed to the ground his body slowly turning back to his human form as the fire began to dissipate the smell of burned flesh in the air.

I felt a gentle hand grab my shoulder and I flinched quickly turning around relaxing when I looked up at Stiles. I felt the adrenaline settle in my body and my heart rate slow to a normal pace. My wolf features slowly changing back to show my real face.

“There she is,” He whispered with a small smile and I knew I was back to normal. I quickly hugged him, holding him with a death grip.

“Derek!” I heard Scott, I turned quickly to see what was happening. Derek was standing over Peter, I went to step forward, but Stiles held me back. Peter laid on the ground unable to move, gasping for air.

“You said the cure comes from the one who bit you!” Scott shouted trying to reason with Derek, but it was no use. I could see it on his face. There was no way he was going to let Scott, or I kill Peter.

“Her father, her family! What are we and Kac supposed to do!” Scott shouted, for a second Derek seemed conflicted till Peter made a gurgled comment I couldn’t quite hear. Derek sliced his throat without a second thought and the gurgling slowly stop. Derek looked back at Scott his eyes changing to bright red as the power of the Alpha transferred to him.

“I’m the alpha now,”

That night I stayed at Stiles’s house, his dad was busy with the investigation of Kate's death and the Hale House fire. Her being convicted of arson.

Stiles and I sat on his bed, he was leaned up against the wall and I was leaning against his chest our fingers interlocked his thumb rubbing random patterns into my skin. The moon shined through the curtains that was the only light in the room casting a soft glow over his face.

“Come on,” Stiles patted my thigh and I moved to get off the bed so he could pull down the sheets. He got in before lifting the blankets so I could slide in next to him. I snuggled into his chest as he let the covers fall over us, his arm snaking over my waist pulling me closer with a small kiss on the head.

"Are you and Scott going to check on Lydia tomorrow?" I asked him looking up at him, he smiled giving a soft nod, I went to ask another question but he was quick to stop me with a finger over my mouth.

"Shh, sleep," He whispered pulling me even closer to him so that my head was pressed to his chest, I let out a soft chuckle before letting sleep take me.

|| Previous | Masterlist ||

Tags: @criminalyetminimal​ @itshouldbe​ @sammypotato67​  @reggies-flannel-shirt

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 2, Episode 2: Shape Shifted

check out the series masterlist!

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse 

Notes: our fav curly haired boy finally makes an appearance!! even tho he’s on the struggle bus rn I’m so excited to finally have him in the series 

                                                  ————————

I winced as my back slammed against the concrete floor of the jail cell, a twinge of pain rolling up my spine. A snarling face appeared above me only a moment later. He caged me in with a clawed hand on either side of my head, growling only inches away. 

“Isaac!” I barked, trying to snap him out of it.

There was just enough space between us for me to brace my hands against his chest. I shoved him away with all the strength I could muster and, surprisingly, he stumbled up onto all fours a few feet away.

Isaac growled again from his crouched position, pupils blown wide, making his eyes look completely black. He snarled, revealing his sharpened teeth, and glowered at me dangerously. In the blink of an eye, he hauled me up to my feet and pinned me against one of the brick walls. 

He leaned close, roaring loudly, and my eyes pinched shut as a fear-induced tremor wracked my body. I pressed my back firmly into the wall behind me, my heart sputtering in my chest. I peeled my eyes open when the room went silent and stared ahead with wide eyes, my breath reduced to trembling gasps. 

I should probably take a moment to explain how I got myself in this ridiculous situation.

Stupidity, mostly. My intentions had been mothing but good and still, everything somehow managed to fall apart. But that seems to be a trend in my life, doesn’t it?

Earlier that day...

“You really don’t remember anything?” Allison pressed, despite being told the same answer several times on our way to school.

“They called it a fugue state.” Lydia quipped, swaying her hips as she held her jacket tightly beneath her crossed arms. “Which is basically a fancy way of saying ‘we have no idea why you can’t remember running through the woods naked for a week’.”

She rolled her eyes with a huff, as if the whole thing was nothing but a minor inconvenience. I watched her closely as she bounced up the stairs in her heels. She’d been acting way too...normal since we found her. She kept insisting that she’s fine and doesn’t remember a single thing but somehow, that seems so much worse.

“But, personally, I don’t care. I lost nine pounds.” She shrugged with a satisfied smile, and Allison chuckled.

I couldn’t help but frown. There was no way she didn’t have any lasting effects from being lost in the woods for a week, or that Peter’s bite had done absolutely nothing to her. There was just no way.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I peered at her with concern, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, it’s not like my aunt’s a serial killer.” She turned on her heel, flicking her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, before either of us could respond.

Allison’s lips parted as she stared at her retreating figure, her brows lifting in surprise. I rubbed a hand over my lips to hide the smirk that was threatening to break through. While completely and utterly inappropriate, I couldn’t deny that the comment was pretty funny.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” I followed after her quickly through the front doors of the school.

My steps faltered as I saw that every single person in the hallway had stopped to stare at Lydia. She stood froze in place, her eyes wide as they flickered around the space. Quiet footsteps sounded behind us, the only noise in the otherwise silent hall.

“Maybe it’s the nine pounds.” Allison joined us at Lydia’s other side and leaned down to whisper the jab into her ear.

She squared her shoulders and flattened her features into a practiced boyeed expression before flicking a stray piece of hair away from her face and strutting away. I narrowed my eyes at her back, the persistent feeling that something was going on with her beneath the surface nagging at me. Allison and I shared a quick glance before following her toward our first class of the day.

————————

I let out an annoyed sigh, for once trying to actually focus on the assignment in front of me. We were doing partner work today and since there were an uneven number of students, Mr. Harris put me, Stiles, and Scott together. We were all surprised by that choice, but I honestly think he wanted us to get distracted so he’d have an excuse to give us detention again.

“Why would Derek choose Isaac?” Scott whispered harshly, continuing the conversation the boys had been having around me for the last several minutes.

“Peter told me that if the bite doesn’t turn you, it could kill you.” Stiles’ eyes briefly flickered toward me, and I avoided his questioning gaze. I was already painfully aware that we were no closer to figuring out what’s wrong with me. I didn’t need any reminders. “Maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving.”

“Does being a teenager mean your dad can’t hold him?” Scott’s voice became urgent as he leaned forward in his chair.

They’d both been freaking out all day. Apparently, one of their teammates was pulled during their morning practice by the police for questioning. His father was killed mysteriously a few nights ago, and he was the prime suspect. Now, that wouldn’t usually be anything more than news-worthy gossip, but it conveniently happened moments after Scott realized he’s a werewolf.

He had to have been turned recently, because Scott only sensed that there was another werewolf on the team this morning. I’d never really noticed the guy before, but he was definitely on my radar now.

Unfortunately, it was most likely Derek who turned him, unless there’s another alpha running around Beacon Hills that we don’t know about. Honestly, I’m not sure which scenario would be worse.

It also just so happens to be a full moon tonight, because heaven forbid a day go by in this town without a supernatural disaster. Scott and Stiles were stressing the fuck out about what a freshly turned werewolf will be capable of, especially while stuck in a jail cell. 

“Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness—wait...” Stiles’ eyes widened as a thought struck him and he abruptly turned around to face the table behind us. “Danny. Where’s Jackson?”

Scott and I peered back toward him as he glanced up from his paper, the pencil in his hand coming to a stop as his eyes flickered over the three of us slowly. They were swirling with a strange emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. It was almost as if he’d been listening in on our conversation.

“The principal’s office talking to your dad.” He answered slowly, seemingly surprised that we weren’t up to date on the latest developments.

“What? Why?” Stiles whispered harshly, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac?” Danny shrugged, as if it were obvious.

My shoulders stiffened at his words. We all turned back toward the front of the room quickly when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, not wanting to be caught talking. I glanced between Scott and Stiles, waiting for the inevitable. I could practically see the gears turning behind their eyes. They were coming up with something that I undoubtedly wanted no part of but would get roped into anyway. 

“Witness.” Scott sighed, looking defeated.

Stiles’ brows pinched as a look of determination flickered over his face. “We have to get to the principal’s office.”

“How?” Scott leaned toward him expectantly.

Stiles’ wide eyes flickered around our table before landing on the assignment we were supposed to be doing. He practically lunged toward me so he could slide the paper out from under my hand.

He glanced to the head of the room where Mr. Harris was standing, his back to us as he wrote equations on the chalkboard, before crumpling it into a ball. I let out a huff, instantly realizing that he was about to do something incredibly stupid, and snatched it back.

“Wait a minute.” I glanced between the boys with narrowed eyes. “We literally just closed the door on the whole almost being murdered by two psychopaths thing. Can’t we sit this one out?”

“Not when we can help him.” Scott whispered earnestly, his eyes rounding as he silently pleaded with me to understand.

I groaned at his damn overactive conscience and sunk down into my seat, already giving in. I didn’t want to get involved in another problem already, but it was clearly important to him. Stiles held out his hand expectantly and I pursed my lips, hesitating.

He winked and blew me a kiss, the edge of his lips twitching into a smirk. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. He was having way too much fun with this already. Finally, I dropped the paper ball into his upturned hand.

He wasted no time in chucking it toward the front of the room. It smacked right into Mr. Harris’s head and bounced to the floor. The room erupted into restrained giggles as he quickly whipped around to face the class.

“Who in the hell did that?” He snapped, his brows furrowing in anger.

Scott and Stiles both lifted a finger to point at each other, and I sank further down, making myself small. I had yet to get into any trouble at school, and I wanted to keep it that way, despite whatever potential supernatural crisis we were dealing with. 

“To the office. Now.” The boys instantly popped to their feet at Mr. Harris’s curt demand, failing miserably at hiding their satisfaction that the plan went so smoothly. “You too, Ms. Y/L/N.”

I jolted upright in my chair and gaped at him, my eyes widening in shock. “But Mr. Harris, I didn’t even do—”

“Unless you’d like to finish that thought in detention, I suggest you get moving.” His eyes narrowed into a hard glare.

My jaw clenched at his patronizing tone, but I scooped up my things and followed the guys out into the hall anyway. I shouldn’t have been this annoyed, but I was already a full two weeks behind after missing so many days of school while recovering from Peter’s bite. For once, I actually wanted to focus on school and bring my grades up.

Less than a minute later, we found ourselves sitting outside the office, one of Scott’s ears pressed tightly against the window. Jackson was visible through the glass, his arms crossed lazily over his chest as he sat comfortably in one of the plush chairs. His eyes flickered slowly over Sheriff Stilinski, seemingly bored by their conversation. 

Scott was reciting their every word as he listened in. It wasn’t like Jackson to care for other people, so exactly no one was surprised to find out that he knew about the apparent abuse Isaac was subjected to at the hands of his father for years without telling a soul.

The office door suddenly sprang open without warning, and I jumped in surprise. Stiles spazzed beside me, arms flailing as he grabbed the closet thing he could find to hide behind. Despite getting in trouble intentionally, he didn’t want his dad to see him. He’d been cracking down lately about his record of almost weekly detentions which were always, unsurprisingly, with Mr. Harris.

He slid down in his seat and lifted the magazine he found to cover his face. A moment later, Sheriff Stilinski walked out of the office with another officer in tow. His eyes trailed over Stiles slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Hi, Scott. Y/N.” He drawled slowly, his attention still firmly planted on Stiles. 

We both waved awkwardly and he just shook his head with a sigh, accepting that his son was a lost cause before brushing past us. We barely had a moment to breathe before a deep, gravely voice fluttered from the open door. 

“Kids.” My eyes widened as they swept up to the older man we’d seen at Kate’s funeral. Allison’s grandpa. Time seemed to slow as we all stared at him, equal parts surprised and confused. Just yesterday, we had a different principal. So what was he doing here? “Come on in.”

Hesitantly, we all stood and followed him into what was apparently now his office. We sat down in the chairs opposite his desk and waited anxiously for him to begin our lecture. He tooka few moments to ruffle some papers around on his desk before opening a small manila folder. 

“Scott McCall.” He said slowly, his dark eyes flickering over the pages inside. “Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete.”

His gaze swept up to meet Scott’s, who’s lips twitched up into a half-grimace half-smile sort of thing. He was stiff as a board beside me, clearly uncomfortable being this close to someone from Allison’s family.

“Mr. Stilinski.” He continued, attention moving to another folder. “Oh, perfect grades...but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse.”

Stiles perked up in his chair, eager to talk about his growing role on the team. “Oh, actually, I’m already—”

“Hold on,” Mr. Argent held up a finger, and Stiles visibly deflated before falling back into a slouch. He pointed to Scott, his eyes narrowing slightly. “McCall, you’re the Scott that was dating my granddaughter.”

Scott’s eyes widened, instantly pancking at his words. The two of them were still sneaking around, since her dad’s threat to literally kill him if he caught them together was very much active. “We were dating, but not anymore. We’re not seeing any of each other or...doing anything...with each other.”

I let out an irritated huff at his rambling. For as often as these guys lie, they should be much better at it by now. Mr. Argent chuckled, but it lacked any humor. It was honestly kind of unnerving, like when a super villain laughs just before killing someone in cold blood. 

“Relax, Scott. You look like you’re about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth.” The three of us just stared at him, unsure of how to respond to that weirdly specific and alarming metaphor. 

“Now listen, guys.” He sent us a tight lipped smile, only slightly breaking the quickly mounting tension. “Yes, I am the principal, but I really don’t want you to think of me as the enemy.”

Stiles scoffed harshly from beside me, squirming back and forth in his seat. “Is that so?”

I jammed my elbow into his side at that ridiculously obvious reference to the supernatural. He twitched dramatically and rubbed at his ribs, furrowing his brows at me as if I were the one messing everything up. There was no telling what he already knew. He might not even know that Scott is a werewolf yet, and we didn’t need to be giving him any clues. 

“However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So, unfortunately, someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention.” He continued, eyes immediately sweeping toward Stiles. 

He was momentarily unaware of all the attention on him as he played with a frayed string on his red flannel. As much as it may suck, it just made sense for it to be him. Scott needed to figure out what to do about Isaac, and there was no way I was sitting in detention for a stupid plan that I had no part in.

After a few moments of tense silence his eyes flicked upward. They widened knowingly and he sighed before sagging back in his chair, ready to begrudgingly take one for the team. 

With that decision made, Scott and I were dismissed. He instantly bolted upright and practically ran to the office door. I followed as quickly as possible, squeezing Stiles’ hand reassuringly before I went. Scott frantically tumbled down the small flight of stairs just outside the office before rounding the corner and throwing the side doors open. 

“Scott!” I called, urging him to slow down. He wasn’t even using werewolf speed, he was just freaking the fuck out and going way too fast. “Scott, what are you doing?”

I ran outside after him, feeling a chill run up my spine as a gust of cold wind blew past us. He suddenly staggered to a halt and I swerved to avoid ramming into him. My eyes widened as I finally saw what made him stop so abruptly.

There was a police car pulling away from the curb, and Isaac was sitting in the back. 

“So what’s the plan?” I breathed, feeling my stomach churn with anxiety. 

I didn’t necessarily care what happened to the guy, especially if he did kill his father, but this couldn’t mean anything good for us. Everything just got a hell of a lot more complicated. It was one thing if they were just questioning him, but if they were arresting him our job would be much harder than we anticipated.

Scott let out a huff of annoyance and turned to face me. “Go back inside. I’ll figure this out.”

“Absolutely not.” I crossed my arms, offended at the mere suggestion that I walk away.

There was no way I’d be leaving his side anytime soon. They’d sufficiently dragged me into this problem with them, and now I was here to stay. Plus, I was honestly way too nosy to turn back now. There was only one more period left before school let out anyway, and I wouldn’t be able to focus with all of this going on. 

Just then, a black sports car peeled up to the curb with a high pitched screech. I jumped back in surprise, the sight of the tinted windows making me nervous, but almost immediately relaxed when the passenger window rolled down to reveal Derek. 

“Get in.” He ordered gruffly, not wasting any time with pleasantries. 

“Are you serious? You did that. This is your fault.” Scott raised his voice in frustration and pointed toward the retreating police car. 

“I know that.” Derek barked through clenched teeth, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. Well, I guess it’s confirmed that he was the one who bit Isaac. “Now, get in the car, and help me.”

Scott rolled his eyes and stood firmly in place. “I’m gonna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon comes up.”

“Not when they do a real search of the house.” Derek shook his head solemnly, although it was hard to tell exactly what he was feeling behind his dark sunglasses. 

“What do you mean?” I spoke up for the first time, utterly confused by his characteristic vagueness. It honestly wouldn’t be the least bit surprising if he’d been in Isaac’s house since the murder, but if there was something damning in there, he just needed to come out with it. 

“Whatever Jackson said to the cops...” He let out a tense breath and pursed his lips. “What’s in the house is worse. A lot worse.”

He leaned over and popped the passenger door open, peering at us expectantly over his black frames. Scott and I shared a long glance, unsure if we wanted to get tangled up with him again already. Despite the fact that he wasn’t an immediate threat to us, he was an alpha now. That made him dangerous. And if he’s going around turning people, there’s no telling what his agenda is. 

With a sigh, Scott stepped forward and got in the car. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously, but followed after a few seconds. It felt like we were opening the door to something much worse than a newly turned teenager gone rouge. I couldn’t place it, but that nagging feeling was back. There had to be something I was missing. 

                                                      ————————

“If Isaac didn’t kill his dad, who did?” Scott asked anxiously, waving a flashlight around the dimly lit space. 

Derek was adamant that we wait until the “right moment” to enter Isaac’s house. After a couple hours of sitting around and ducking down to avoid any living thing that crossed his car, I was convinced that he was stalling. The moon would be up soon. We were running out of time. 

The goal was to break Isaac out of the station before he has a chance to shift. There’s no telling how many people he could kill while stuck in there and although they wouldn’t be innocent deaths, the last thing Beacon Hills needed was more bodies. 

“I don’t know yet.” Derek huffed, seemingly annoyed. 

“Then how do you know he’s telling the truth?” I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, feeling the chilly evening air sinking into my skin. This house had absolutely no insulation and I was freezing already. 

“Because I trust my senses. And it’s a combination of them. Not just your sense of smell.” He peered around me to glare pointedly at Scott.

I cringed at his disapproving tone as we continued through the house. I swear, sometimes he acts more like a disgruntled father or older brother than a random werewolf we con into helping us sometimes. It was equal parts endearing and off-putting. 

“You...saw the thing at lacrosse this morning.” Scott grimaced, his shoulders stiffening as he realized he’d been caught. 

“Yeah.” Derek quipped, letting his eyes scan over the disaster of a house in front of us. 

There was nothing...wrong with it, per se. It just wasn’t well maintained. There was a mountain of dishes in the sink, clutter everywhere, and dust covering almost every surface. It was just kind of gross, overall. I was surprised that anyone would want to live like this, but after learning about what a dickwad Isaac’s dad was, I didn’t think he had much of a choice. 

“Did it look that bad?” 

As we made our way around the house slowly, I was beginning to question whether there was even anything here at all. It wasn’t that I thought Derek would intentionally lead us to a dead end, but I didn’t really trust him, either. 

“Yeah.” He clapped a hand over Scott’s shoulder and pressed his lips into a firm line before coming to a stop in front of a door. “You wanna learn? Let’s start now.”

He popped the door open to reveal a narrow staircase that led down to a basement. Only a few feet of floorspace was visible through the darkness, but I could already tell it was a cluttered mess. 

“What’s down there?” I asked tentatively, squinting my eyes in an effort to see more of the room.

Scott started walking down the stairs slowly, looking from side to side as he went. I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched him disappear into the darkness. Part of me wanted to follow him, but there was also a terrible feeling of dread churning in the pit of my stomach. There was something evil down there, I could just sense it.

“Motive.” Derek nudged my back gently and I sighed before following behind Scott.

“And what am I looking for?” He called over his shoulder, sweeping his flashlight over the space quickly. 

“Follow your senses.”

There were piles of junk everywhere. That was the only word one could use to describe the stuff lining the walls. There were tools, random knickknacks, and a bunch of things that honestly looked like forgotten trash. There were big heaps every few feet, making it hard to walk through the room.

“What happened down here?” I breathed, my chest tightening with each step I took. I hugged my sides tighter, needing something to ground myself. It felt like my skin was buzzing, as if I could actually feel the raw emotions that had been left in this place. The air had this thickness that I couldn’t place.

“The kind of thing that leaves an impression.” Derek murmured ominously, and I turned to send him a glare. 

He was being the opposite of helpful, as usual. If he knew what happened, he just needed to tell us so we could get the hell out of here. There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to be here any longer than necessary. 

Scott moved a shower curtain that was somehow hanging from the ceiling as he continued on his path around the basement. He fidgeted with a few things as he passed them by, walking around a disgusting, stained couch before kneeling down in front of a shattered TV that looked like it was from the eighties. He ran his fingers along the concrete floor beside it, his brows furrowing in concentration. 

His head suddenly jerked upward, his gaze settling on a large freezer against the wall a few feet away. He slowly rose to his full height and stepped toward it. He stopped directly in front of it, his breathing labored. I rushed to his side at the sight of his heightened anxiety, more curious about the odd reaction than anything. 

My lips pulled into a frown as he toyed with a lock that hung from a latch on the freezer. That definitely wasn’t normal. Scott’s eyes flickered to me briefly, but it was long enough for me to see the concern bubbling beneath the surface. We both jumped at Derek’s sudden presence beside us a moment later. 

“Open it.” He encouraged, his eyes firmly planted on the freezer. 

Scott lifted the lid at a painstakingly slow pace, the rusted hinges squealing in protest. He shined the flashlight inside, and my breath instantly caught at the sight of the interior. There were claw marks along almost every inch of the inside. Bloody claw marks. 

The worst part was that they clearly weren’t from a werewolf. The scratches were dull, barely perforating the smooth metal. They were human. My heart dropped into my stomach at the thought of Isaac—or anyone, for that matter—being locked in something like this. 

“This is why he said yes to you.” Scott’s voice was barely above a whisper as he peered down into the freezer. His eyes were dark, swirling with a stormy slew of emotions. 

“Everybody wants power.” Derek quipped, crossing his arms with a shrug as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. 

I scoffed in disbelief as Scott slammed the lid back down. He couldn’t honestly think that turning a tortured teenage boy was a good idea. He could’ve killed him, for starters, but instead may have given a vengeful human all the power he could ever ask for. Either way, he was screwed. And now, so were we. 

“If we help you, then you have to stop. You can’t just go around turning people into werewolves.” Scott’s voice was hard as his eyes narrowed angrily. 

“I can if they’re willing.” Derek lifted his eyebrows casually, completely oblivious to the seriousness of this situation. 

There was no way of telling what anyone would do once transformed into a powerful beast. It was downright irresponsible for him to run around making his own werewolves, but as we learned, alphas are stronger with a pack. And if there was one thing I knew about the Hale’s, it’s that they’re power hungry.

“Did you tell Isaac about the Argents? About being hunted?” Scott’s voice rose incredulously, and Derek just shrugged again. 

“Yes, and he still asked.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” I snapped, over this whole situation. It seemed that our problems always started with Derek. He was a walking magnet for supernatural horrors and I was more than ready to be done with him. It’d barely been a couple weeks since our issues with Peter.

I jumped as my phone suddenly started ringing in my back pocket. I hastily pulled it out, my eyes widening as I saw that I had several missed texts from Allison and Stiles. 

“Hell—”

“We need to do something right now.” Allison’s urgent voice fluttered into my ear as she interrupted me before I could even get a word out. I put the call on speaker and held my phone out so the guys could hear. “My dad and grandpa were asking me all these questions about how Lydia was bitten by Peter and then they sent this guy out.”

“Wait. What guy?” Scott asked frantically, his eyes widening with anxiety.

“He was dressed as a sheriff’s deputy.” 

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. Did that mean the Argents had a man on the inside? Or did they somehow fake a uniform? I glanced up toward the Scott and Derek, who didn’t look any more pleased than I felt.

“They’re sending him to the station for Isaac.” Scott confirmed the fear nagging at the back of my mind. 

“He was also carrying this box with him with something on it. Like a carving or something.” She rushed the words out quietly, probably hiding from her family somewhere in her house. 

“What was it?” I pressed when she didn’t continue.

“Hold on, hold on. It’s in one of these books. I’m gonna send you a picture.”

My phone vibrated in my hand a moment later and I instantly clicked on the notification. It confirmed what all of us were surely thinking. “Wolfsbane.”

She paused for a moment, most likely wondering what the hell I was talking about. There was still a lot she didn’t know about the supernatural. “Okay, what does that mean?” 

“Just come meet me at Isaac’s house. Hurry.” Scott ordered, taking my phone from my hands before ending the call abruptly. 

I raised my eyebrows in question, and he sighed. “I have a plan.”

It was only when he dropped the phone back into my hand that I noticed his nails had extended into pointed claws. My eyes widened with the realization that the moon was coming up. That meant Scott and Isaac both would be losing control any minute. 

We were officially out of time. 

                                                    ————————

My legs bounced anxiously as I sat on the front steps of the house. They were falling apart, the conceete all cracked and dirty. I let out a slow breath into my hands as I tried keeping them warm. My eyes flickered up toward the sky, my heart sinking further into my stomach with each inch the moon rose.

I let my eyes sweep back to the front door, wondering what was going on inside. The loud squeal of tires against the asphalt had me jerking upright in surprise. I turned back toward the road and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Stiles’ Jeep lurching to a stop at the end of Isaac’s driveway.

I popped to my feet and jogged toward the car as he threw the passenger door open. His wide eyes flickered over my frame from head to toe quickly, a gesture he’d started after I was released from the hospital. It honestly seemed like a habit at this point, an uncontrollable urge he had to check for some kind of psychotic break every time he saw me. 

“Where’s Scott?” He breathed, still leaning across the bench seat. 

“Doing something really stupid.” I mumbled, moving out of the way as Derek appeared at my side. 

He and Stiles exchanged a tense glance as he wordlessly got into the back of the Jeep. I slid into the passenger seat and let the door fall closed behind me. We were leaving Scott and Allison—who’d arrived a few minutes ago—in the basement to figure out his wolf hormones or whatever. If he was going to be helpful tonight he needed to stay human, and she could assist with that better than anyone. 

Stiles eyed me suspiciously, but eventually jerked the car into drive and sped off. The ride to the sheriff’s station was short, but painfully awkward. Derek and Stiles were taking turns glaring at each other in the rearview mirror and I wanted nothing more than to remove myself from the situation and let them work through whatever the hell was wrong with them. But I was stuck, so I sat in silence until we pulled up at the back entrance of the station. 

“Okay.” Stiles sighed and threw an arm over the back of the seat so he could glance between both of us. “The keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office. The problem is getting past the front desk.”

Derek huffed from the back, as if personally offended by that statement. “I’ll just distract her.” 

He leaned forward to push me out of the way so he could get out, but Stiles lunged across the seat to grip his leather jacket tightly. “Whoa, whoa! Hey. You’re not going in there.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed before flickering between Stiles’ face and the hand balling up the fabric of his jacket. 

“I’m taking my hand off.” His voice rose anxiously as he lifted both arms in surrender. 

“I was exonerated.” Derek snapped, clearly annoyed at being labeled a criminal for the lie that Stiles and Scott had come up with a few weeks ago. In their defense, Peter did have us trapped in the school with a bunch of people who knew nothing about the supernatural. Framing him for the murders Peter had committed was the best option at the time.

“You’re still a person of interest.” I tried to reason with him, but it didn’t look like we were making any breakthroughs as he rolled his eyes in aggravation. 

“An innocent person.”

“You? Yeah, right.” Stiles scoffed with a chuckle, but instantly sobered up at the glare Derek cast his way. 

“Alright, whatever. It’s fine. Let’s just go.” I rushed out, starting to get impatient. 

I just wanted this night to be over already. We had Scott probably shifting at Isaac’s, Isaac definitely losing control inside the jail, and Derek causing way more problems than he’s worth. It was a lot for one day. 

Derek went inside first, shamelessly flirting with the woman at the front desk. Stiles and I waited a few minutes to make sure that she was sufficiently distracted before slinking inside and quietly ducking past the lobby. Stiles ran toward his dad’s office, and I was right on his heels. Once inside, he found the small lockbox mounted onto one of the walls and punched in the code. 

He lifted the front panel off and instantly froze. “Oh, no...” 

He bolted out of the office so fast that I had to stand there for a moment, processing what the hell just happened. After coming to my senses and realizing that someone had taken the keys, I ran after him, easily catching up within seconds. My body slammed into his back harshly only a moment later as we rounded a corner and nearly barreled into a police officer. 

“Whoa.” Stiles breathed, staggering back a step. His eyes widened in alarm, knowing that we weren’t supposed to be here right now. “Uh. We’re just looking—um...”

His awkward attempt at lying trailed off as his eyes flickered down to the man’s leg. I did the same, my breath catching at the sight of an arrow sticking out of his leg. Allison must’ve gotten Scott under control, since before we left she promised to help if she was able. My panic only grew as I noticed the syringe grasped tightly in one of his hands. 

“Oh, shit...” Stiles gripped my arm and started running down the narrow hallway. 

We only made it a few steps before he was violently jerked backward. My eyes widened as I felt his hand leave me and I whipped around to see what happened. A startled gasp tore past my lips as I watched the man wrap an arm around Stiles’ throat and haul him against his chest. 

“Hey! Let him go!”

He started dragging Stiles down the hall, and I instantly ran after them. I had no idea what I could possibly do to help, but I wasn’t stopping for anything. All I knew was that I couldn’t let him get hurt. His arms flailed wildly and he kicked his legs, trying anything to break free. My eyes swept the area for anything that I could use as a weapon. 

“Y/N...go!” Stiles gasped through his struggle. 

With a grunt, the man brought a hand up to cover Stiles’ mouth as he used his free hand to land a few punches at his ribs. His eyes were wide as they silently urged me to run away. But I couldn’t. There was nothing that would make me leave him right now. 

He somehow managed to pull the fire alarm as the man dragged him through the doorway to the cells. I cringed at the loud ringing, but quickly forgot the inconvenience as the man dropped Stiles into a heap on the concrete floor. 

I instantly rushed to his side, placing a gentle hand on his back as he rubbed at his chest and gasped for air. There was barely enough time for relief to begin bubbling in my chest before a low growl echoed through the room. We both stilled at the sound. 

Eerie silence blanketed the room for only a split second before Isaac emerged from a dark corner, teeth barred. He lunged at whoever the Argent’s had sent, wrapping a clawed hand around his throat before slamming him down onto a metal interrogation table. I winced at the harsh sound, but could do nothing but watch as he threw the man across the room. 

His head met the brick wall first, the impact instantly knocking him out cold. Isaac’s head then whipped in our direction, and my breath caught. A bolt of fear surged up my spine as his empty eyes caught mine. They weren’t even glowing, which was somehow much worse. I’d barely noticed the guy when he was a human, but the sight of him as a werewolf right now was terrifying. 

My heart lurched in my chest as he suddenly sprang toward us. Stiles gripped my elbow and tried to pull me with him as he scrambled away, but Isaac got to me first. 

“No!” Stiles yelled frantically, flailing up onto his feet as quickly as possible.

And that brings us back to the present...

I peeled my eyes open when the room went silent again and stared ahead with wide eyes, my breath reduced to trembling gasps. Isaac’s beastly face was only inches from mine, our close proximity only making my heart beat faster. 

Suddenly, a loud crunch echoed through the room. Isaac whipped around, momentarily forgetting about me, and I peered around his shoulder shakily. Derek’s eyes slowly rose from the syringe he’d just stomped to pieces, landing on mine and Isaac’s compromising position with a glare. 

Suddenly, Isaac turned around and lunged toward him with a growl. Derek snarled, revealing his sharpened canines, and growled loudly. My eyes pinched shut as the walls vibrated from the sheer volume of it. I sagged to the concrete floor, my knees giving out as I suddenly felt faint. 

My vision blurred as I slid down the brick wall, but I could still make out the way Isaac dropped down and cowered into a corner. Derek finally stopped roaring and easily shifted back into his human form, his teeth and finger nails retracting. Within a second a pair of strong arms were wrapped around my shoulders. I was hauled into a warm chest, and I let my eyes fall closed with relief. 

“How did you do that?” Stiles breath fanned the top of my head as he ran a hand down my back soothingly. 

I let my eyes flutter open to look at Derek, only to find that he was already studying me curiously. I already knew the answer, and it did nothing to calm my nerves. He was not only an alpha, but the alpha that bit Isaac. They had a connection, just like Peter and I. I couldn’t help but wonder, as my gaze flickered toward Isaac’s crumpled frame...

If Derek had that kind of power over him, what did that mean for me?

Episode 1, Part Two Episode 3

[edelwoodsouls]

all roads lead  - ch. 8

When his mother dies, Stiles runs away, straight into danger - only to be saved by Peter Hale. Seven years later, after burying their alpha, Stiles and Malia return home.

Word Count: 3,212 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,

Chapter 8: PACK

They end up at the ice-cream shop.

Whilst its outside is nothing but peeling paint and a flickering neon sign that now only reads ' C   R AM', the inside is a hidden gem of smooth pastel surfaces and large booths, paired with upbeat 80s music and the heady scent of melted chocolate and burnt sugar.

Going in, Stiles knew he was about to be submerged in enemy territory. Still, walking in to the scent of wolves heavy in the air brings back memories of the supernatural cafes and bars in New York, of the stink that had surrounded Peter when he came back from alpha meetings. He has the sudden urge to scrub his skin raw or spray perfume; he shifts closer to Malia.

The booth by the window is filled with what Stiles assumes is Scott's entire pack. There's Isaac, beside a girl with dark hair that Stiles recognises - Allison, who lives in his old house, who of course is connected to all of this, because everything in this fucking town is.

He can't help but frown at how close she sits with everyone, how easily she laughs with them, despite the stink of wolfsbane and iron that clings to her. They don't even seem bothered by it. Stiles has seen packs with humans in them before. But hunters?

The thought flees quickly as he notices the last two of the group. A girl with straight brown hair and an etched frown, and an older guy - maybe twenty-five. Both with Peter's jawline and bright blue eyes.

Stiles forgets how to breathe. Scott is talking, the others sliding into their seats, but the world is ringing, tunneled upon these two, so achingly strange yet familiar.

"Stiles?" The sound rushes back to the scene, and he looks down to see Scott has put a hand on his arm. He sees the tell-tale snake of black veins disappearing quickly up the other alpha's sleeve, so fast he could have imagined it. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. It's been a long day. What were you saying?"

"I was just introducing everyone."

"Cool, cool," Stiles slides into the booth at the edge beside Malia, facing Scott. His beta leans against him, her shock a far less visible force, but just as shaking.

Scott introduces everyone. Allison gives them a grin that is so sweet it almost hides the sharp edge behind it. Stiles barely registers that her surname is Argent, that he should probably be panicking at the fact that he has her family's blood clinging to his hands, but the information settles somewhere in the back of his mind for later, far less important than his current panic attack.

"And this is Derek," Scott says, confirming what Stiles is already acutely aware of. "And Cora. Hale."

Derek, for his part, appears distant. His mouth is permanently curled down, his eyes staring at a point on the wall opposite. He nods noncommittally in their direction. The table goes uneasily silent for a moment, and Stiles feels he must be missing some important context to this scene.

"Nice to meet you, I guess," the girl says, tone as biting as Stiles would expect-

What had Scott said? Cora Hale. Cora Hale, not Laura. Cora, who was listed as one of the casualties of the fire. Who had been in their year at school until she had vanished that night in a puff of smoke and flame.

"Guys," Scott breaks the silence, "this is Stiles Stilinski, and Malia Tate. They just got back into town and are living with me and Isaac."

Everyone leans in with interest at that. There's a question in their eyes he knows he's not supposed to see, a less-than-subtle shake of the head from Scott. No, this silent conversation says, they're human. Not a threat.

Not pack.

Thankfully, Stiles is saved from trying to bridge a conversation by the arrival of the waitress. Money isn't an issue for him or Malia, not with the exorbitant funds Peter left behind. Between the stress of the day and the ADHD in the back of his brain screaming for sugar, Stiles goes absolutely ham, and even Malia orders a few waffle cones without the ice cream- she still hasn't gotten used to being cold without her fur, let alone inflicting it upon herself on purpose.

He watches the other pack, feeling more than ever like a wolf in sheep's clothing. He can't help but study them as an enemy - just in case, he tells himself, ignoring the rational part of his brain that accuses him of paranoia. It's not paranoia if someone's out to get you, and Stiles is sure that between the mess they left behind in New York, and the mess they've discovered here in Beacon Hills, it's only a matter of time.

Eventually the blood will find them.

But for all he knows of the current situation, this pack does not seem like one in crisis. They laugh easily with each other. They lean towards each other, towards Scott, as if he is the sun, and they are just planets orbiting around him. Allison and Isaac trade comebacks across the table. Lydia inputs with sniping comments and imperious facts, switching it up with forceful compliments so genuine that the whiplash makes his head spin. Even Derek manages the occasional deadpan remark, and Cora tries, too, though she looks as awkward as Stiles feels - a new addition to the pack, he assumes.

He wouldn't guess, watching this family through the window of an ice-cream shop, that so much death and blood hangs over their heads.

Of course the peace can't last long. The conversation turns to him and Malia like an inevitable landslide Stiles can only watch rushing towards him. He feels how out of place they are in this scene, how Lydia in particular watches him as if she can see the death that weighs down his shoulders.

"So where did you say you spent the last seven years?" she asks, as if the question has been building momentum on her tongue all this time.

Uneasy, intensely curious silence drops like a weight over the table. Scott shoots nervous glances between the two of them, but everyone else watches with a hunger Stiles feels devouring him from afar.

"New York," he says, allowing a confident smile to settle on his features, as if this is all he needs to say. He has a suspicion that Lydia has conversations like chess matches, and tipping his hand with nerves is something he cannot afford.

"How'd you end up in New York?"

"I got a bus, how else would you get there?"

Lydia's eyes narrow. "Why did you end up there?"

"Getting lost in a city is easier than a town like this."

"So you left of your own accord."

"I didn't say that, and I don't think it's any of your business."

"How come you're back now, then?"

"Circumstances changed. There was nothing keeping us there anymore."

"You said you were here to pay your debts," Allison chimes in, pointing at him accusatorially with her ice-cream spoon. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Stiles curses silently, taking a moment to weigh his options. "I owe my dad for not being here," he says slowly. "I owe Scott for not being here. Whether it was my choice or not. Me and Malia just want a chance to live a normal life. To finish high school. To leave the past in the past where it belongs and where it should die. If that's okay with you?"

He spits the last question at the table, satisfied when he sees the ripple of uncomfortable guilt across their faces. Lydia's eyes remain narrowed, but he feels the tension ease somewhat. After all, for all intents and purposes he's just declared his allegiance to their pack - to Scott. That's really what this conversation is about, all other curiosities aside. Are you a threat to our alpha? Are you planning to hurt him more than you already have?

"Personally I fucking hate school," Malia says, crunching down on a waffle cone and snapping the remaining tension in an instant. "Stiles is the real nerd here. I just highlight everything in the textbook and hope for the best."

"You can just borrow my notes," Lydia sighs. "Everyone else does."

Malia grins at her, though Stiles can see the moment her thoughts wander back to Kira, to their study sessions together, and the enthusiasm turns sour.

"Maybe we could help you guys prepare for the aptitude test?" Scott asks. "Lydia's a certified genius, and I'm only failing French at the moment."

Stiles manages a smile. "I'd like that."

~~~

"Can't sleep?"

Stiles is sat on the roof that evening, staring up at the nearly full moon. It always pulls at him like this as it grows - he used to sleepwalk in the early days. Now, keeping his wolf under lock and key so often, he finds the urge, the gravity tugging him out into open sky, irresistible.

He nods silently, and Scott pulls himself up onto the roof to sit beside him. For a moment, they simply stare at the moon, transfixed.

"Nervous about going back to school?"

Stiles snorts. "School is the least of my concerns."

"I feel that," Scott nods. His voice is so heavy, so tired, that Stiles looks up immediately to examine the other alpha's face. In the moonlight, the sunshine that usuallt radiates from him seems diminished. There are deep purple bruises beneath his eyes. His shoulders slouch as if they hold the weight of worlds upon them.

For all that Stiles avoided questions during the day, now he finds his own bubbling up inside him. "What..." his voice hitches unexpectedly. "What happened when I was gone?"

Scott's heavy expression turns guarded for a second, before dropping, as if those walls are unnatural to erect, their weight too much to bear on top of everything else. He really is just a naturally open book, all too genuine.

"A lot, Stiles."

"Tell me." He knows anything he learns now will be a filtered truth filled with holes, but he wants desperately to know that he didn't ruin this boy's life by leaving. That the blood of another future isn't on his hands.

"You... you left. Theo left not much after."

"I was wandering where that guy got to."

"His sister died in the preserve; his family moved to start fresh, I think."

No death in the preserve comes without a half dozen red strings attached to it. Stiles files this information away for later.

"Your dad... Stiles, it was bad. Really bad. He got suspended from work. He went to rehab. Relapsed. Got put in the cells a couple times to sober up. Everyone tried to help him, but..."

"He'd lost everything," Stiles whispers. He doesn't want to hear this, the confirmation of his worst fears about his father. All of this is his fault.

"If you- if you ran away, Stiles, I wouldn't blame you. Your dad at his worst, he wasn't a great guy to be around. I can imagine how scary that must have been. I just wish you'd told me what it was like. I could've helped. You could've stayed with me. You didn't have to leave."

Stiles says nothing. Scott's hand inches towards his as if he wants to rest it on his arm like he often does with Isaac, to give that tactile support that pack relies on, but it falls short, resting unsure on the roof tiles.

"Anyway, my mom kinda staged an intervention, along with the old sheriff, and a couple of the deputies from work. She has experience with, y'know, after my dad. I don't really know what happened, but somehow he got back on his feet. Started going to AA meetings. Got promoted to sheriff. Started dating my mom. They've been married a year now. It was a really nice ceremony, actually. Low-key. You would've hated it."

Stiles lets out a soft laugh. "They seem good together."

"Mm," Scott replies, his mind a thousand miles away.

"Can't help but notice you're avoiding talking about yourself, though, Scotty."

"Says the guy."

"Touche."

They lapse into silence. Scott's heartbeat is steady but his scent is awash with a mixture of melancholy and regret that Stiles is intimately familiar with.

"You seem to be doing well, now, at least," Stiles says eventually, as the energy pent up in the quiet begins to itch at his skin.

Scott sighs and nods, both gestures at odds with each other. "Isaac and I became friends a bit after you and Theo left. Both the kids with no friends, y'know?" Stiles cringes. "He moved in in the spring after his dad died. And Allison moved here in January. She became friends with Lydia, who became friends with us."

The information in this story is so sparse Stiles can feel the tidal wave of details slipping in between. But how can he ask for more? How can he ask how did you become a werewolf and who did you kill to become an alpha and how long has it been, how are you so good at it, what am I doing so wrong?

"Derek and Cora aren't usually as rude as today. Well, they are - I think being a dick runs in their genes. But their sister was killed a couple weeks ago - animal attack - and it kinda fucked them up a lot. She was a really great- person."

A really great alpha, Stiles thinks, as another of the puzzle piece slots into place. He feels an unexpected pang at the thought that he will never meet Peter's older niece. He wanted to see what made the Hale pack so special. He wanted to look that woman in the eyes and ask her how she could sleep at night knowing she abandoned her pack.

"A lot of death in this town," Stiles notes as nonchalantly as he can. "Animal attacks. And my dad mentioned something about a serial killer. That's insane, man."

"It's a lot, yeah," Scott says, that heaviness returning to his shoulders like Atlas reclaiming the sky. "There was this guy. He fucked us all up in a lot of ways. But he's gone now, and somehow I think we're all better for it? I mean, we've been through so much shit. I've seen my own blood on my hands more times than I can count in the last year. But without him, I never would've become who I am. Never would've become friends with Lydia, or Derek and Cora, or..."

The names of ghosts linger on Scott's tongue before vanishing like smoke.

"Sounds like some guy," Stiles laughs, all-too aware that Scott has told him more than he probably should have. These are not the official stories, the normal stories of a teenager. And yet he doesn't seem surprised that Stiles isn't horrified.

"That's certainly one way to describe Peter."

Stiles' world shivers to a stop; shatters into a thousand diamonds all reflecting the stillness of this night, this moon.

"Peter?" he manages to choke out. His heart, he knows, is racing too fast, betraying his racing thoughts, but the world is turning to ice and dust before his eyes, and he can't bring himself to care.

"Peter Hale," Scott says slowly, eyes narrowed towards Stiles in concern. "He's Derek and Cora's uncle, but they're nothing like him. He came back to town to settle some old score with his family and got a bunch of us tangled up in the process."

There had been two months, at the beginning of the year, when Peter had vanished. Business trip, he'd claimed, as if he had a consistent job and didn't simply pull cash out of his family's obscene inheritance.

Stiles' curiosity had burned, but he'd been too busy nursing Malia back to health from the gaping hole in her head, the screaming nightmares she had to claw her way from drowning in, to care about much else.

The Peter who returned had been so quiet. His temper shorter, his remarks snider and crueler. Reckless. It had taken months for the tension, the weight, to ease from his body, and by that time the three of them had found themselves hunted for sport and chained up in their own apartment. The beginning of the end.

"Sounds rough," Stiles manages a half-strangled laugh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just-" The night has become cold enough to freeze his skin, and yet he feels heat rising like a fever in his chest. His thoughts are too fast, his lungs too small to contain the world. The moon above is little more than a haze of silver, glaring down at him in judgement. "Today's been a lot, I think. Seeing everything I've missed, everything that happened because I left-"

"Nothing is your fault, Stiles-"

"You don't know that, Scott. You don't know what might have been different." You don't know what I've done. That everything you've suffered might have been because of me. "And I'll have to live with that every day."

"You're back now," Scott says, a fierceness in his voice Stiles hasn't seen before. The other alpha finally reaches up and places his hand on Stiles' shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact like electricity grounding him to earth. "And I don't care about the past. You wanted a new start, this is it. Here, with us. You just have to let us in."

"I want that more than anything. I just... how do you ever stop looking over your shoulder? How, after all the blood you've seen, how are you so happy?"

Scott purses his lips, thinking about it. His eyes leave Stiles and find the moon above them. This thing they share, that tethers them together more than any past or rivalry might. They are both wolves in love with the stars.

"I'm not happy," Scott says quietly. "Some days the world feels so heavy I can barely stand. You should have seen me earlier this year, I was a total mess. But I put a lot of work in over the summer. I take every day as a new start. I talk to people when I can't carry the load alone. It helps, to have someone to share with. I'm sure you know that from Malia."

"I don't know if I have the energy for that work," Stiles admits. He refuses to acknowledge the burn of tears beginning in his eyes.

"So take it one day at a time. School. Social life. Life, in general. Each step is a good one, even if sometimes you feel like you're sliding backwards. It's all a journey, and it can't always be a race. Sometimes you just gotta rest."

"Wow. You should write a self-help book, Scotty, that's some motivational shit."

"I try."

They lapse into silence, staring at the sky, and somehow Stiles finds his head resting on Scott's shoulder. He hasn't been this physically close with anyone except pack, isn't sure how to feel, how to reconcile how his heart aches for touch and his skin crawls at the thought of it.

His wolf whines silently inside him at how good it feels, and how wrong it should.

[jmeelee]

Derek’s not sure what’s more alarming: that he never heard footsteps on the rickety, rusted-out fire escape, or that Stiles Stilinski is lurking in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

His eyes snap open, focusing with pinpoint precision on the intruder, who reaches long, slender fingers toward the vase of drooping daffodils on his nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Derek croaks as Stiles’ hand grazes a soft yellow petal.

He whips the wandering appendage back like he’s been burned, locking startled, bloodshot brown eyes on Derek’s prone form.

“I…” Stiles stops, glances around, eyes falling back to the small, wilting bouquet, the only spot of cheery color in the dark, sparse room. “Really, dude? Flowers? You realize a few blooms won’t cover up the fact that this loft is a shithole?”

Derek sits up, cotton sheet pooling around his waist. Stiles’ eyes rake down his bare chest, a phantom caress leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Did you break in just to insult my apartment?”

“Whoa, rude. Pot, meet kettle.” Stiles shrugs one shoulder. “Besides, your window was wide open. You’re lucky it was only me.”

Derek scrubs a hand down his face. He may not know Stiles well, but he can tell when he’s stalling. “Stiles, what do you want?”

Stiles continues as if Derek never spoke. “I never pictured you as a flower guy. Did a girlfriend give you these? My mom loved daffodils. There used to be a flower sale when I was in elementary school, right around Mother’s Day, and my dad would give me money to buy her a few. I always used the spare change to buy an extra ice cream at lunch. Hate to break it to you man, but fresh air isn’t going to do these suckers any good. They’re past their prime.”

He flicks a cup-shaped corona, spraying a fine sheen of pollen into the balmy night air, and Derek lets loose a low, menacing growl. Stiles’ outstretched hand trembles slightly with his quickening heartbeat, but one deep breath pulls a blanket of composure over his fear. He turns toward the window, shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t… I… Screw this. I’m leaving.”

A hand snaps out, encircling Stiles’ wrist before he can take a step. “What’s wrong?”

The question Derek should ask is what isn’t wrong. In the past few months they’ve faced off against a darach and a nogitsune. And before that, it was a kanima and a homicidal rouge alpha. They’ve all stared hell in the face, but Derek wagers none more so than Stiles. Weakened after his split from the fox demon, Stiles is a shadow of his former frantic self. Dark circles stain the translucent skin under his eyes, and his already-skinny frame is emaciated.

Stiles’ gaze sticks fast to the vase, steady beat of his heart thumping against the pad of Derek’s thumb. “I can’t sleep. I haven’t been sleeping since…” He looks toward Derek, blinking fast. “Everytime I close my eyes, I see Allison’s face.”

Derek speaks many languages, but they all fail him in the face of Stiles’ pain. So he waits for Stiles to inevitably fill the silence, poorly attempting to convey empathy via his eyebrows. His sisters, both living and dead, always told him the expression made him look constipated, but it’s all he knows.

“I can’t go to Scott with this,” Stiles continues, as Derek knew he would. “I don’t want to hurt him—hurt anyone—more than I already have. Lydia is grieving for Aiden, Danny misses Ethan and Jackson, and Malia is… complicated. My father is worried sick and the last thing I want to do is burden him with a crazy son. Again. I don’t…” He shudders on an inhale. “It was stupid to come here, but I have nowhere else to go.”

Silence stretches between them, woeful and taut. Derek wishes, for the hundredth time in a span of seconds, that he’d inherited his mother’s soft, soothing solace, or his father’s confident gestures of comfort. At the rogue thought of his dad, Derek waves toward the sagging daffodils.  

“My father was a florist.” Yeah, Derek sucks at this.

Stiles scrunches his nose. “Uh. Okay?”

He marches on. In for a penny, in for a pound. “It’s how he and my mother met. He was a human florist. Ran a shop outside of town. Floriography was his passion, and she’d heard about him, sought him out when her pack needed help with medicinal herbs. They fell in love and she turned him.”

Stiles is soaking up Derek’s tale like a dehydrated man in the desert, so he charges on. “My father had this book my mother gave him called Le Langage des Fleurs.” The French slides off Derek’s tongue like silk. “We used to read it together, but it burned up in the fire.” The with everything and everyone else remains loudly unspoken. “Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.”

He slips from the bed, sheet falling to the floor. Thank goodness he wore boxers to bed. Gently, he moves aside the yellow flowers to reveal violet and crimson sweet pea. “These mean thankfulness. It’s a bouquet I arranged after Cora returned. There’s a bunch on her nightstand, too.”

Stiles delicately fingers the petals again. “Why are you telling me this?”

Growing up, his father had filled every room in the house with flowers. On the bad nights, when vivid nightmares rip him from sleep, he swears he can still smell petals burning. “Because, despite everything that’s happened, they help me,” Derek explains. “Flowers make me feel closer to my family, let me express what I’m feeling.”

“I have noticed you’re really bad at that, dude.”

Derek glares. “The point is, you’ve got to find what helps you.” Derek realizes he’s still loosely holding Stiles’ wrist, and quickly drops his hand. Luckily, the awkwardness is broken by the sudden loud complaint of Stiles’ empty stomach.

Stiles laughs, and Derek’s heart breaks a little when he realizes it’s been months since he’s heard the sound. He wraps it around himself like a garland. “Food would help,” Stiles declares.

Derek bends down, grabs a pair of sweatpants off the floor. Stiles mummers something about underwear models under his breath, and Derek flips him off over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s raid the fridge. Cora just went grocery shopping.”

----------

“Derek. Care to explain why I found Stilinski in our pantry this morning, eating Nutella straight from the jar?” Cora crosses her arms over her chest, menacing despite her striped pajamas and bed head.

Derek scowls, bracing for a fight. “He’s struggling, Cora. He didn’t want to be alone, so I told him he could crash on the couch last night. I’ll buy you a new jar next time I’m at Costco.”

She hums, crossing her ankles on top of the coffee table, painted toes almost touching a vase of stargazer lilies. “This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?”

“No.” Derek nips the insinuation in the bud.

It totally becomes a thing.

———-

Derek stills when he enters his room and finds Stiles sitting cross-legged on his bed. He can feel his hackles instinctively rise at the invasion of his personal space, Stiles’ scent already seeping into the mattress. His gym bag thumps to the hardwood floor.

“What do these mean?” Stiles questions, pointing to the fresh purple and white flowers.

“Lavender has lots of meanings, but it’s a healing plant. People have used it for centuries; it calms you down and helps you sleep.” Derek points first to the purple florets on the long, skinny stem, then to the white flowers on the thick green stalks. “And Heather is for luck, protection and making wishes come true.”

“Heather,” Stiles whispers, small smile quickly overtaken by a frown carving deep lines around his generous mouth. He shakes his head like a wet dog, dislodging whatever morose memories have tried to take hold. “So, want to watch a movie or something?”

Derek whips off his white tank top and tosses it in the general direction of the hamper. Stiles’ eyes go wide. “Sure, but I’ve got to shower first. Here,” he chucks his cellphone into Stiles’ lap. “Order us some pizzas, I’m starving.” He heads for the door, speaking over his shoulder. “Get me ham and pineapple.”

“Gross dude!” Stiles yells at his retreating back.

———-

Week three brings horehound and azalea, and a trial run of Claudia Stilinski’s chocolate chip cookie recipe. Derek, Stiles and Cora eat twenty-four cookies between them.

Week four is gardenia, morning glory and blue salvia, and Cora’s thoughtful, “He’s better, more rested. He’s thriving. Don’t you think?”

———

“What was that book called? The one your dad read to you?” Stiles is contemplating camellia, eyebrows drawn.

“Le Langage des Fleurs. The Language of Flowers. He had a first edition from 1819, and handled it like he was holding a newborn.” Derek chuckles, remembering his father’s gentle hands, the memory crisp and sweet as an apple blossom in his mind. “He was ridiculous.”

Two weeks later Derek comes home to hydrangeas, the fading scent of Stiles, and a copy of Le Langage des Fleurs lying on his desk. He picks it up, runs a finger down the spine, and his father bursts into technicolor life before his eyes. It’s not a first edition, but to Derek, it’s priceless.

———

A war rages between Derek’s head and heart, as Stiles peacefully sleeps, belting out an occasional snore and drooling on Derek’s favorite pillow.

It’s your own damn bed. Get in.

You can’t. Not without his permission. Wake him up and tell him to get his ass to the couch.

It’s only sleeping. He won’t mind.

His father might be wondering where he is. Don’t worry the Sheriff or you’ll end up arrested. Again.

“Damnit,” Derek whispers, and crawls into bed, lying down next to Stiles on top of the blankets. As far as truces go, it’s pretty weak.

The movement, though careful, wakes Stiles, and he rolls toward Derek, blinking. “You’re warm,” Stiles mumbles. “Stay.”

Derek does.

_______

“I’m planning on visiting the cemetery Saturday morning,” Derek broaches. “I usually bring some flowers for the graves.” A pregnant pause. “I could gather some for you to take, if you want to come along.”

———

They stop first at Derek’s family plot, and Stiles helps him tend to the zinnias Derek planted around the graves when he first returned to Beacon Hills.

“Ready?” Derek squints in the bright morning light at Stiles’ shadowed face.

A sigh. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Allison’s tombstone is shiny and summer-warm, and Stiles tenderly lays a spray of willow, asphodel lily and wormwood at the base. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Tears track down Stiles’ cheeks, but he doesn’t swipe them away, letting them evaporate in the sun, leaving behind a tang of salt Derek can taste in the air. “I’m so sorry.”

An entirely different Stiles walks back to the Camaro, a familiar one. The effortless, supernatural confidence of the nogitsune and the quiet, sad stillness of grieving are shed with each step, a much-needed abscission. Rosy cheeks replace a pallid parlor, and fidgety fingers dance along the tops of headstones they pass. The return to normalcy rattles loose a content noise from Derek’s chest.

“What is it, big guy?”   

“You’re kind of like a flower, ya know,” Derek replies, before he can internally talk himself out of the confession.

The corners of Stiles’ mouth gradually rise. “If you mean I’m beautiful and smell fantastic, yes, I did know.”

Derek punches him lightly in the arm, and Stiles reels away with a dramatic flailing of limbs. “Some flowers come back year after year, after being buried under snow and ice, and they’re stronger than ever. Take a lotus, for example. It grows in the darkness and mud, but when it reaches the light…” Derek finishes his statement in reverent hush. “It becomes something exquisite.”

“So you’re saying I’m resilient?” Stiles playfully rubs the spot where Derek hit him, but his gaze is shy and tender. Derek refuses to cultivate the seeds that look plants inside his heart, desperately pruning the roots already wrapping around his ribs. “A rose grown in a concrete garden?”

“I’m saying you’re a weed and I can’t get rid of you.”

In slow motion, Stiles reaches out, twines their fingers together like creeping vines, and squeezes once. “I don’t think you want to get rid of me, Derek Hale.”

His mother raised him not to lie, so Derek keeps his mouth shut.

———

He’s roused by the creaking of his bedroom door and Stiles’ shuffling feet. They’d given him a key three weeks ago, when the midnight visits petered off and Stiles started knocking on the front door—in the daylight—like a normal person.

“What time is it?” Derek slurs, fumbling for his phone.

“Three a.m.,” Stiles whispers.

The return to nocturnal visits can’t mean anything good. Derek sits up. “Nightmares?”

Stiles stands at the foot of the bed, worrying the hem of his Lacrosse sweatshirt. “No,” he answers, voice husky. “I haven’t had a nightmare in weeks.”

“Okay. Good.” Stiles shuffles from foot to foot. “Is something… What do you need?” Honeysuckle, wisteria and coriander tickle Derek’s nose.

“You.”

Derek doesn’t hesitate, lifting up the sheets in invitation. “Come on in.”

“Yeah, no.” Stiles shakes his head, eyes bambi-wide. “See, I’m not looking for comfort tonight.”

Derek’s heartbeat trips over itself. He clears his throat, never lowering the blankets. “Well, you’re in luck. I’m shit at comfort anyway.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” Stiles whispers, and climbs into bed. Then, “Oh! Look at that. You’re not wearing any pants.”

———-

The doorbell rings at dinnertime, and Derek yells for Stiles to enter, but he remains planted on the hallway doormat, galloping heartbeat beckoning Derek like a siren song.

Derek slides the loft door along the track. “You can come in. You have a key for god’s s—”

The bouquet is bigger than Stiles’ head, bursting with red tulips and yarrow, jonquil and plumeria. Smack in the center is a monstrous sunflower.

“I read the book—well, an English version—before I gave it to you. I hope I didn’t screw this up.” He holds the flowers out to Derek.

Derek accepts them, cradling them to his chest. He plucks out a butter-yellow jonquil, gently offering it back to Stiles with his right hand.

To an outsider, Stiles’ rampant ramblings and Derek’s severe allergy to words would render them incompatible, but Stiles’ smile is so bright it could sustain an entire garden, and Derek knows they’re finally speaking the same language.

“I’m just as much of a mess as you are, Stiles,” Derek warns. “You need healthy soil to grow, and we’re both still healing. Maybe we’ll always be healing. Trees don’t bear fruit on demand.”

Stiles rubs at the back of his neck. “True. But, think about it. All we can do is create the best possible conditions, feed and water the right seeds. I trust nature to take care of the rest. But the parts we have control over? We’ll work on those together.”

Derek grins, and the future unfurls before them, full of potential. He steps back, and Stiles crosses the threshold.

“Together,” Derek agrees. Together.

[the-sweetest-dragon]

Things Can Only Get Better - Chapter Two

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinksi x OC (Evangeline Monroe)

Word Count: 12k (I went buckwild)

Warnings: kidnapping, allusions to abuse, allusions to trauma, anxiety, Stiles being an idiot, blood, wounds, injuries 

AN:  I am still on my bullshit with this fandom and I don’t know when it will end.  This is based on the last few episodes of season one with my own little spin on it

Tags: @nerdsarebetter​ @audder17​ (READ MY STUFF YOU COWARD)

chapter one

________________________________________________

“If you live among wolves you have to act like a wolf.” - Nikita Khrushchev

The months after the party went by quickly.  Not much happened.  Well, a lot happened but just not to me.  Everything had been quickly going downhill; Lydia, Stiles, Allison, Jackson, and Scott had gotten trapped in the school one night while the alpha roamed around and killed the janitor.  Which had been one of many murders that had happened since we had been turned.  A bus driver had been found, not quite dead but then later passed in the hospital.  I did my best to stay out of it.  Derek never approached me, thankfully.  They eventually figured out that the alpha was Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle who had been horrifically burned in the fire six years ago.   Which was terrifying to hear, but made since in the overarching scheme of things.  

A few things went down in our social group as well. Allison and Scott broke up mid-semester for reasons unknown to me.  I still sit with Scott and Stiles at lunch most days, mostly just to stay in the loop about what was going on.  Jackson had (somehow) figured out what Scott and I were, but he wasn’t aware I was one too, thankfully.  I could feel the tension between the two boys and ultimately decided it was best if I stayed out of it. 

However, it was when I finally heard all the details of the breakup, that I decided to stop sitting with them at lunch and instead moved to sitting with just Allison.  We were quickly joined by an apologetic Lydia who missed her friends.  I ignored Scott as much as I could, which also meant ignoring Stiles.  That hurt my heart a little, a small crush blossoming in the weeks we had spent together investigating the murders.  

Stiles still texted me updates when he could and we talked in the halls.  We no longer pretend to be dating, or whatever people thought we were doing.  A week after Thanksgiving break, Isaac Lahey asked me to go to the winter formal with him and I, of course, said yes.  No one else was going to ask me and Issac was cute, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes.  He was also on the lacrosse team, though Lydia didn’t recognize the name.  I had said yes before thinking about Stiles, but if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t think he really cared if I went at all.  Which broke my heart a little, but I did my best to ignore it.  He still had a huge crush on Lydia and I didn’t really want to mess around with that. 

I tried to focus on Lydia more.  She and Jackson had broken up not too long after Allison and Scott had split.  Lydia seemed… heartbroken.  Her sadness clung to her like a second skin and nearly made it impossible to sit near her.  No one else seemed to notice, besides me and maybe Stiles, for obvious reasons.  She had really loved Jackson, for whatever reason.  I still don’t like the guy, especially after the shit he pulled trying to get the bite.  He was reckless and didn’t listen to reason, two of my least favorite qualities.  

One day, after a few weeks of refusing to speak to him, Scott stopped me in the hallway.  The stench of desperation surrounded me, making me want to gag.  I glared at him and he held his hands up in surrender.

“I just want to talk,” he said, his brown eyes pleading with me.  At that moment I spotted Isaac’s blonde head over the crowd of people and I hurried towards it, Scott meeting me stride for stride.  “I need you to get Allison’s necklace for me.  We think it may have to do with the murders.”  I stop in my tracks and turn a glare onto him.

“So you want me to steal from one of my best friends?” I practically growl at him.  His eyes go wide, and I try to calm down.  Scott was one of the few people who managed to really get under my skin, and I knew in that moment that my eyes had gone yellow. I collected myself, pushing the anger and panic down.  “I am not stealing from her.  If you want it, why don’t you ask for it?  I won’t be your go between.”  He stops following me and I quickly get to Issac’s side.

“Hey, whats up?” he asks quietly.  I shake my head.  Isaac is shockingly good at reading my emotions, and knowing when I don’t want to talk.  He just nods, and wraps an arm around my shoulders.  We walked to class in relative silence, only catching a few looks in the process.  

Isaac wasn’t the most popular choice in friends, but he was kind.  He had a rather bad home life, so in the few weeks we had been friends, he had been over at my house nearly every night.  Partially to work on homework, but also to just get away.  Mom instantly liked him, and Dad seemed to like him, as much as Dad liked any of my guy friends.  I wasn’t sure if Isaac liked me in a romantic way but nothing with him was ever boring, and it felt… normal.

A week before the formal, Lydia took Allison and I shopping for dresses.  It was her way of apologizing for everything.  Not to mention that Allison is acting weird.  We had figured out her family’s secret, that they were hunters.  Allison didn’t seem to be clued in on that fact, but I had decided that being her friend was more important.  She wouldn’t hurt me.  

We walk into Macy’s, heading towards the escalator.  We had been talking about formal plans, but I tuned them out fairly quickly.  I tune back in when Allison turns towards Lydia with a triumphant smile.

“I’m going with Jackson,” Allison states.  I blink a few times, confused as to why anyone would willingly spend time with that snake.  Lydia’s face twists with shock and I feel a little bad for thinking such things.  “He asked, and I said yes.”  I shrug, not wanting to dig too deep into whatever was happening between them.  Lydia looked almost mad, her face going red with anger.  It was almost comical.  

“Is this payback for making out with Scott?” she asks quietly.  Allison just smiles and shakes her head, infuriating her more.  “And who am I supposed to go with?”  Once her question is asked, a familiar scent hits my nose.  I groan internally.

“Him,” Allison says, pointing towards the scent I had smelled.  Stiles.  He leans to sniff something at the perfume counter and inevitably does something klutzy.  I laugh softly, covering my mouth with my hand to keep the sound to myself.  I turn to see Lydia’s eyes narrow and then turn to me.  She raises an eyebrow in question and I just shrug, knowing that I had no claim on him.  I push down the small, insecure part of me that is screaming to tell her no, it’s not okay.  That pang of jealousy would have to be explored at a later point.

After Allison points him out, Stiles follows Lydia around like a lost puppy, holding her mountain of dresses for her and shooting off sarcastic comments that make me laugh.  His eyes meet mine a few times, as if asking if this was going to be okay.  I nod, refusing to let that feeling overtake me.  We’re friends, I can handle this weird little crush that has been lingering. 

We walk around for what feels like hours, Allison disappearing to take care of her car an hour into shopping.  Lydia decides on a silver dress with a black ribbon around her waist and Allison decides on a ruffled silver number that really compliments her coloring.  They both leaned very heavily on the ‘winter’ part of winter formal with those colors.  I still couldn’t find a dress I liked that fit me well, until Stiles waves me over to a rack a few feet from where I am.

“Evie, come here!  I think I found something,” he says, a big smile on his face.  I hurry over to him, excited to see what he had found.  He pulls out a deep green dress with an iridescent overlay on the skirt and bodice.  It laces up in the back instead of having a zipper and has some boning in the front, to keep it stiff.  I run my fingers over the fabric, a smile creeping its way onto my face.  “Well, what do you think?” he asks, a nervous lilt in his voice.

“I love it.”  He smiles, relieved and I quickly find my size and head towards the changing rooms.  As soon as I slip the dress on, I know it’s the one.  I struggle slightly with tying the ribbons in the back, but mange to get it tight enough that it won’t slip off me.  Stepping in front of the mirror, I admire how it looks on me.  The green makes my hair look more red, and compliments my dark eyes.  I twirl, watching the skirt spin with me.  It gives me fairy vibes and I’m absolutely in love with it.

I step out into the main area where everyone is waiting.  Lydia insists on seeing all the dresses, to help us pick I guess.  I hear a soft gasp when I walk out, and my eyes immediately go to Lydia, who has a grin on her face and a look of approval shining through.  Allison is smiling, her dimples really coming through from the strength of it.  Stiles’ eyes went wide when he sees me, an odd look coming onto his face.

“Wow!  You look great!” he says.  “Not that you don’t always look great!  This is just… wow.” I laugh, a blush heating up my face.  I ignore the butterflies in my stomach, trying to squish them before there’s a whole horde of them in there.  

“Well, you picked it out.  You have a good eye, for a guy,” I say with a grin.  “So, this is a yes, right?  Please let it be a yes, I don’t think I can handle anymore dress-trying-on.”  Lydia laughs, the first I had heard in a long time.

“Yeah, that’s a definite yes.  Isaac won’t know what hit him.”  At the mention of Isaac, Stiles’ light eyes go dark with what I assume is jealousy, which makes my heart do flips.  Maybe he does like me the way I like him.  He hurries away, mostly to help Lydia put all the no’s on the return rack, but I can hear his heart beating faster than usual.  Stiles avoids me the rest of the night, and I try not to worry about it, though his actions make me nervous. 

We go out for a quick bite after we buy our dresses, Lydia insisting to buy both Allison and I’s.  I argue slightly, until I see the price tag and know without a doubt that I don’t have that much money in my bank account.  Us girls discuss hair and makeup ideas, while Stiles does his very best to not look bored.  For his part, Lydia had made sure that he had a tux that would go well with her dress.  I made a mental note to ask Isaac about his tux, though I wasn’t too concerned with matching. As long as it was black and white, it would look fine.

Lydia dropped Allison and I off, Stiles going home on his own.  I hurry up to my room to put my dress in the closet.  I had tried my best to decorate my room in a nice way.  We had painted the walls a nice ivory color, nothing too bright.  One wall was covered in false ivy and had an oversized chair in the corner, next to my bookshelves.  Another wall held my bed, it’s warmth especially inviting after these past few hours of tedious shopping.  The weather had started to turn chilly, though not nearly as cold as it had been in Kansas, which I was grateful for.  My desk was pushed up to the window, so I could see out while doing homework.  Books littered my desk, some for school and others for my own downtime.  

I do my nightly routine, making sure to remove all makeup before heading to bed.  There had been a night about a month ago where I had forgotten and woke up to a perfect imprint of my face on my white pillow.  Needless to say, Mom was not very happy with me for that one.  I slide into my warm bed, a feeling of comfort seeping into my bones.  

I often have dreams, or rather, nightmares.  My brain seems to think that I don’t worry enough while I’m awake, so it creates scenes in my brain to have me react to and become anxious upon waking.  Lately, I have been having the same dream over and over again.  I was in the woods, a gauzy white gown covering my otherwise nude body, as I ran between the trees.  I wasn’t being chased, but I could feel someone following me.  We were laughing in the dream, and at some point it felt like I had been tackled to the ground by this person but nothing hurt.  I could feel them leave soft kisses on my exposed shoulders and I felt so completely comfortable.  It didn’t make sense, and I had no clue who the person was but I found myself searching for them upon waking.  The urge to find them was so strong it was almost painful.  

Tonight is no different.  As I fall asleep, the scent of the woods hits my nose immediately.  The same dress covered my body, and I could almost see the person behind me before we started sprinting through the woods, my speed surprising me.  I turn back to see the person, but they’re far behind me.  I slow down so they can catch up and their scent hits me.  Sweat, but something else, something… manly.  Before I could place the smell, I was being tackled to the ground.  This time though, I was facing the person and I felt a slight pain in my back, making me close my eyes in discomfort.  A hand gently cups my face and his thumb gently caresses my cheek.  I lean into the touch, savoring it before the dream melts away into darkness.  

I wake slowly, wanting to stay in my dream as long as possible to gather any more clues about the person.  The sun hasn’t even rose, and yet here I am, awake.  I sigh, deciding that if I have to be awake, I might as well use the time efficiently.  I take a long, hot shower, trying to get the scent of the man out of my nose.  Everything about him felt so familiar and yet I couldn’t place it.  Closing my eyes, I try to mentally put it in a folder to look at later; focusing on it now would do me no good.  I take a few deep breaths and turn off the water, stepping out into the cool bathroom.  Wrapping a towel around myself, I head back to my room.  I flip on the light and pad to my closet when I hear a soft sound.

I turn slowly, spotting a man sitting in my desk chair.  I freeze, much like a deer caught in headlights as the man stands.

“Hello, Evangeline.” 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I rub my eyes, yawning as I pull on my jersey.  I hadn’t slept well last night, partially because of this recurring dream that left me feeling exhausted and partially because I didn’t fall asleep until very early in the morning.  My phone buzzes relentlessly in my pocket, the buzzing catching the attention of both Scott and Coach, which is unfortunate for me.

“Stilinski!  If you can’t shut that thing up, I’ll shut it up for you!” he yelled from across the locker room.  I wince and fumble for it, nearly dropping it onto the hard concrete floor.  

“Yes Coach,” I say back, ignoring the call.  I sigh, putting the phone into my gym locker, not bothering to look at who had been calling me.  Scott gives me a funny look before turning back to whatever Coach had been lecturing us about before I had rudely interrupted.  I tuned him out most of the time, and this time was no different.  

It was way too early to be having practice; the sun was barely up, but here we are, cold and running laps.  Practice itself wouldn’t take that long, but it had gotten so cold this past week that no one really wanted to be out on the field.  Everyone was sluggish, even Scott, who still looked like a kicked puppy about Allison going to the formal with Jackson.  I still hadn’t figured out how Allison had talked Lydia into being my date but to say I was excited would have been an understatement.  This was my one chance to show her how great a boyfriend I can be, and I’m not about to give that up.

Practice goes by quickly, the cold settling into our bones within a few minutes.  After showering and dressing, I grab my phone from my locker, noticing that I had four missed calls.  I scroll through the call log, realizing they were all from Evie and she only left one voicemail.  I open it, my foot tapping against the floor, the only sign of my nervousness.

“Stiles, he found me…” a loud bang in the background and a yelp from Evie nearly sets me running.  Her voice is low, barely there.  “I… I don’t know where I am.  It’s so dark… Stiles…”  The voicemail is cut off there and I bring the phone in front of me in shock.  Scott comes up beside me, his jaw set in anger.  He lays a hand on my shoulder and looks at me dead in the eye.

“We’ll find her.”  I nod, the situation still not quite making sense.  He who?  There were several contenders at this point.  It could be Peter, or Derek, or Argent… There were too many people involved for anything to be clear.  I take a deep, calming breath.  “Do you have anything of hers that I can get a scent off of?  Or do we need to raid her house?”  I pause for a moment, trying to remember if she had ever left anything in the Jeep.  I shake my head, coming up empty.

“No, but I think we may be able to get something from her locker.”  Scott gives me a funny look and I explain quickly.  “She never locks it, says that the combination takes too much time.”  He nods and we head towards the hallway.  I nearly walk past it and have to double back after I spot it.  I open it, the pictures inside fluttering at the movement.  Scott takes over from there, grabbing a sweater Evie had left in there.  I refuse to focus too long on her smiling face, knowing that something very easily could have ruined that smiling face forever.

After taking the sweater out, we rush towards the Jeep, nearly crashing into Allison and Lydia in our hurry.  Scott slides to a stop but I keep going, tumbling to the ground.  I hiss at the pain in my knees and Scott helps pick me back up. 

“Woah!  Where are you going?” Allison yells after us.  Neither Scott nor I stop to explain, too busy hurrying towards the Jeep to realize they were going to follow us.  The two exchange a look and rush after us, their heels clicking against the floor.  “Wait up!”  

We made it to the Jeep in record time, me nearly running into the side window, because I was unable to slow down enough to not.  The girls reach us as Scott hops into the car, leaving me to explain our rush to them.  

“We got a call from Evie,” I say quietly.  “She’s being held somewhere, we don’t know where.”  Lydia’s eyes go huge, reminding me of an owl.  Allison sets her jaw, and I can see her decision in her eyes.  She reaches for the door and climbs silently into the car.  I turn to Lydia, awkwardly wrapping an arm around her while quiet tears fall down her face.  “We’re going to find her, okay?  Everything will be ok.”  I move her so we’re looking each other in the eyes, hers shining with anger now instead of tears.

“I want to go with you,” she says.

“Lydia, you need to-” she cuts me short with a curt laugh.

“She is my cousin!  I will not stand by and let anything happen to her!”  I wince at how loud her voice had gone, but the anger in her face makes me sigh.  I reluctantly open the door for her and watch her climb into the back, a satisfied look on her face.  Scott glares at me; I just shrug and get into the car.  Lydia’s eyes narrow, catching sight of the sweater in Scott’s hands.  “Why do you have her sweater?”

Scott and I exchange a look, as nervousness floods my body.  I hadn’t thought about having to explain how we were going to find her.  Scott tries to come up with a reason, but I know that it’ll never curb Lydia’s curiosity.  The girl’s mind was a steel trap; she’d remember anything we told her and use it against us if anything happened out of the ordinary.  

“Evie left it in the front seat one day after school,” I say quickly.  That answer must have made enough sense to her, since she dropped it.  I let out a breath of relief and started to drive.  Scott rolls down his window under the disguise that it’s easier to see with it down.  We drive for a long time, when Scott goes stiff.  “What?  What is it?”

“I… I think I see her.”  I hit the brakes quickly, causing the girls to shout in surprise.  I mumble a sorry but turn my attention to where Scott is looking.  A small, pale figure is moving towards us quickly.  She’s stumbling through the woods, the light making a halo around her head.  “It’s definitely her.” 

At that, we all hurry out of the car and I run towards her.  There’s blood on her forehead, the cut already closing.  Blood slips down her bare body from twin cuts along her ribs, a matching set visible on her thighs as well.  She stumbles a few times when she spots us, trying to hurry while also looking over her shoulder.  Lydia rushes forward, and I avert my eyes, trying not to stare at her nakedness.  

Scott hands Allison the sweater and I dig a pair of athletic shorts out of my gym bag.  Lydia does her best to clean off the blood with an extra shirt she found in the back of the Jeep.  I make a mental note to replace these clothes and get better detergent to get the blood out.  Evie is silent the entire time, only making soft sounds of pain if Lydia pushes too hard on her cuts.  Her entire back is scratched up, a few deep cuts littered here and there.  The sight of her blood makes me nauseous but I do my best to curb the urge to vomit or pass out.  Allison and Lydia help her dress, making Scott and I turn around.  

“We should take her to the hospital,” I say quietly to Scott.  “Her wounds aren’t healing.  They must have put wolfbane on the knives.”  Scott shakes his head.

“Those are definitely from Peter.  A wound from an alpha takes longer to heal,” he says.  I make a face, unsure as to why he assumes that it was Peter.   “He had to have done this, his scent is coating her like a second skin and the Argents don’t even know she exists.”  I sigh, a headache beginning to form.  I look over to the group of girls, watching as they hug, careful of Evie’s cuts and bruises.  Relief washes over me and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.  She’s okay, she’s here and she’s not dead.  That’s all I could have asked for.  

Evie meets my gaze and gives me a small smile.  I grin back at her, the situation lightening momentarily.  We had found her, she was okay, and we had an idea of who took her.  Then it hit me; we would have to explain this to her parents at some point.  That would not be a fun conversation.  She gestured us over, the smile lingering on her face.  Evie pulls Scott into a hug, making him smile.  He ruffles her hair slightly, getting her to laugh softly.  Then, she turns to me.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice hoarse.  I swallow, worry and relief warring inside me.  She pulls me into a hug, her arms nearly crushing my ribs but I hug back just as fiercely.

“Don’t ever get kidnapped again.”  She laughs, this time a real, full laugh.  I smile, glad to know that this experience hadn’t ruined her spirit completely.  Evie pats my chest after letting me out of her bone crushing hug and steps back into the safety of her friends.

“I’ll do my best not to get kidnapped again,” she says.  

“So, do we need to go to the hospital or would you rather go home?”  I ask.  Her brown eyes go wide at the mention of a hospital and I mentally kick myself.  Of course a hospital would be a bad idea.  Her cuts would be healed in a matter of hours, making any stitches she got useless.

“Of course we’re going to the hospital!  We just found her in the woods, naked and bleeding!” Lydia snaps, making me wince.  Evie faces her cousin, a deep frown on her face.  She points to the fully closed cut on her forehead, where it had been bleeding not two minutes ago.

“There’s no need for a hospital,” she says softly, taking a step towards Lydia and Allison.  Allison, for her part, didn’t back away from Evie, though fear sparked in her eyes.  Scott and I exchange a look, knowing that everything that Allison had been suspecting was now revealed to her.  There were no more secrets left to tell, except maybe Evie’s.  

“I don’t understand,” Allison starts.  “You were bleeding, you had really deep cuts… and now they're just gone?”  Making a so-so gesture with her hands, Evie nods, a look of compassion taking over her face.  Her dark eyes have lost their usual shine and a weight has been placed on her shoulders.  “What does that mean?  What are you?”  Evie glances at Scott, visibly tiring before our eyes.  Scott nods, taking over explaining for Evie.

“Remember when you said that your family was hiding something from you?” A nod from Allison.  “Well, we’re what they’re hiding from you.  Evie and I are werewolves.”  Lydia blinks a few times, then turns her attention to Evie.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks quietly.  Evie rubs her face, smearing blood and dirt across her cheek.  A part of me itches to wipe it off her face, knowing that she would hate looking so filthy.  

“I didn’t want you to worry about me, after everything I’ve put this family through the last thing I wanted to do was give you another reason to worry.”  In that moment my heart breaks for Evie.  I don’t know all the details, but I knew that whatever happened before she left Kansas had to have been bad if she didn’t even trust Lydia with her secrets.  Lydia hugs Evie tight, tears streaming down her pale face.  

“You don’t get to decide what will make me worry and what won’t.  If anything happens to you, I should be the first to know,” she says, making Evie laugh as they broke from their hug.  Allison holds up a hand.

“Hold on.  Everyone is just okay with this?  No one is concerned that there are supernatural beings in this town?”  Everyone looks around, and I shrug.

“Honestly?  I’ve been freaking out for the past three months.  Werewolves are fucking scary man.”  Scott glares at me and Evie raises an eyebrow.  “Current company excluded of course,” I say.  “I’m more worried about the other two, the ones that want Scott, and now Evie, to join their pack.”  Evie nods, a bit of light returning to her eyes.  “Derek isn’t so bad but Peter is absolutely insane.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Lydia asks.  

“Derek and Peter Hale are also werewolves.  Peter is the crazy alpha who has been killing people and attacking us since September.  They want Scott and Evie to join their pack because “we’re stronger together”, but Scott said no and they didn’t know Evie existed until now.  Not sure how they figured out where she was but now we have to be on guard all the time so no one gets kidnapped.”  I let out a breath, winded from so much talking.  

Lydia shakes her head, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing with the movement.  Another thought pops into my mind but before I can voice it, Scott is ushering Evie into the Jeep, Lydia and Allison right behind her.  I look over my shoulder quickly, seeing a dark mass quickly approaching from the woods and get into the Jeep as well, hoping it starts on the first try.  I rev the engine, once, twice, three times before it finally kicks over and we’re barreling down the road towards Evie’s house.  

“He knows where I live!” she reminds me from the backseat.  

“Well, where the hell am I supposed to go?!” I bark back, immediately regretting it when I see her eyes go yellow in the rearview mirror.  “I’m sorry!”  They’re quickly gone, but I know I’ve hurt her feelings.  Scott looks over at me, a confused look on his face.

“Head towards the vet clinic,” he says calmly.  Why is he so calm?  Wish I could be calm with a lunatic wolfman following us.  I nod, turning the car sharply onto the correct road.  

We’re at the vet clinic in record time, though I’m pretty sure that I broke several traffic laws in doing so.  The dark figure is quickly gaining on us.  Scott and I usher the girls inside before entering ourselves, locking the door behind us.  

“Anyone want to tell me why we’re in a vet clinic?” Lydia whispers.  

“The whole building is made of mountain ash,” says a voice from behind us, making both Evie and I jump.

“You can’t just sneak up on us like that!” I whisper yell.  Deaton, Scott’s boss, stands behind the counter, a serious look on his face.  He pushes us behind the counter and into an examination room before locking that door as well.  

We all hide in various spots as we listen to Peter talk to Deaton, or rather threaten him.  Evie, somehow, has ended up pressed into my side, her warmth chasing away any chill that was left over from being outside.  Scott eyes us from the other side of the room, a small frown on his face.  Allison  is pressed against the examination table, Lydia squished in next to her.  We hear the front door slam and we all let out a collective breath.  Evie scoots away from me, and I almost immediately miss her warmth.  It’s freezing in here; Deaton must not have switched over his air conditioning yet.  

“You can all come out now,” Deaton calls out.  I hear the lock turn and pop up, everyone else slowly getting to their feet.  We all make our way out into the main lobby, where Deaton is waiting.  He scans Evie, as if he can see the cuts and bruises her clothing is covering.  “You need some medical attention.  May I see?” he asks.  Evie nods and they step back into the examination room, Lydia joining them after a few moments.  

Scott, Allison, and I wait outside.  I pace around while they have a quiet conversation about whatever it is that they usually talk about, my brain not catching onto any words they’re saying.  After what felt like hours, the trio emerges from the examination room.  Evie looks freshly showered and I briefly entertain that idea of Deaton washing her like a dog in one of the sinks.  She’s small, she’d be able to fit.  

Scott and Allison stand, the latter rushing to help Evie back to the car.  Any energy Evie had before was completely sapped by the time she made it back to the Jeep.  Scott lifts her into the back seat, settling her between Lydia and Allison while I race to the drivers side.  I take her back to her house, leaving Lydia with her.  Allison, Scott, and I all go back to school, the day weighing heavily on our minds.  Allison and Lydia know now, and there was no going back from that.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I slept for what felt like days, dreamless and deeply.  A warm body is pressed against me the entire time I’m asleep and I can hear soft music coming from somewhere.  I curl into the warmth, still freezing from my jaunt in the woods and being naked in the old Hale house.  I feel fingers rake gently through my hair, detangling it and removing any leftover sticks that my dip into the sink didn’t catch.  I sigh, awake now but not wanting to open my eyes.

“Stiles…” I say softly.  The hand stops and I open an eye to see Lydia sitting beside me, definitely not Stiles.  Refusing to feel embarrassed, I meet her stare.  She rolls her eyes and smiles.

“I knew you had a thing for him.  You should see the way you look at him,” she says with a smirk.  I huff, pulling myself up with a soft groan of pain.  The bruises would last for a few hours, but everything else had basically healed.  I was beyond grateful for Deaton’s help, but I didn’t appreciate being bathed like a dog in the sink.  I mentally put that on my list of top ten most embarrassing moments.  

“I don’t have a thing for him.”  Lydia just smiles, making me sigh.  “Okay, maybe I have a small crush on him.  You can’t say anything to him,” I plead, hands clasped. She taps her chin, making my anxiety levels rise quickly, before smiling.

“I won’t say anything.”  I let out a breath, not realizing that I had been holding one.  “But, you’ll have to tell him eventually.”  I shake my head.

“No, by the time he even has an inkling of it I’ll be over it.  I don’t need a boyfriend.”  Lydia stares at me, searching my face.  Her eyes narrow, a suspicious gleam in the green depths of them.  Suddenly they go wide with a realization.

“You’re afraid,” she says, breathless at the realization.  I hang my head, refusing to make eye contact with her.  

“He deserves better.”  Lydia shakes her head but I continue.  “What happens if I have another anxiety attack like I did last winter?  What if he finds out why I was in the hospital?  I don’t think I can take the look on his face if he were to find out, Lydia.”  She sighs, a soft sound that nearly sets me crying.  I had put my family through so much, I couldn’t do that to another person I cared about.  No one deserved that kind of pain.  

“What happened wasn’t your fault Evie.  Bad things happen to good people, and we have to decide how to react.  I admit that several of us reacted badly in the moment,” she shot a glare towards where I assume my parents may be.  They did not react that well, I will admit, but I hadn’t realized everyone else knew that as well.  “But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the quality of our character.”  She studies my face, gently wiping away a tear that had fallen without me noticing.  “You deserve to be happy, Evie.  Especially after everything you’ve been through.”

I curl into her, using the blanket to wipe the remaining tears from my face.  We stay like that for some time, not talking but enjoying each other’s company.  Lydia reads quietly while I doze off, until a loud knock resonates through the house.  I hear Mom saying something, but I chose to not focus too hard on it.  Lydia, however, straightens up, causing my head to fall to the bed.  We watch the door, and I cringe at the sound of multiple pairs of feet coming up the stairs.  

Stiles is the first to burst into my room, out of breath and flannel flying out behind him like a cape.  Scott and Allison are close behind him, though they enter much quieter.  Lydia raises an eyebrow and stands up, stretching slightly.  I turn my focus to Stiles, noticing that he had a rather large bouquet of flowers in his hands.  I feel my cheeks start to burn and I glare at Lydia when I realize that the flowers are daisies, which are my absolute favorites.  She just smiles at me and graciously takes them from Stiles before he can crush them anymore than he already has.  

“Hi, we brought you your homework, well Allison did.  I didn’t realize you were in a modern literature class, when did that become a thing and why didn’t anyone tell me?  You guys are literally reading comic books.”  I blink a few times, trying to keep up with his stream of speech.  He spoke too quickly for my brain to handle.  He smiles widely and gestures as he talks, going on about some comic book he had read a few weeks back.  I tune him out and turn my attention to Scott.

“What’s going on?” I croak, my voice still not a hundred percent after screaming for so long.  Peter did not have an easy time getting me to come with him, which prompted him to give me the wound on my forehead, effectively knocking me out.  Scott and Allison exchange a look and Stiles finally goes quiet.  

“Derek wants to talk to us. Both of us,” Scott says, his voice loud in the silent room.  I narrow my eyes, considering his words.

“I don’t think he is in a position to demand anything from me.  He did not help me today, and any respect or interest I had in this pack Peter is trying to create disappeared the moment he thought he could kidnap me and push me to submit to him.”  I’m so angry I can feel my body shaking.  Pain shoots up in my gums, signalling that I had changed.  Scott raises his hands in surrender, knowing better than to fight me on this.  Stiles comes closer, laying a single hand on my shoulder.  Relief spreads through my body at his touch, making the fangs disappear within seconds.  I don’t miss the look Scott gives me, but chose to ignore the question behind it.  

“I agree with her.  This Peter guy sounds like bad news and, frankly, I don’t like him at all,” Allison states.  I crack a smile at that, happy she agrees with me despite not being included for so long.  Lydia nods in agreement.

“The moment he took my cousin was the moment he was put on my shit list,” Lydia says.  I laugh, a slightly broken sound.  I clear my throat as Stiles gently squeezes my shoulder.  I give him an appreciative smile, which he returns, before letting go of my shoulder.  I miss it immediately but I refuse to let Lydia know how deep this crush goes by looking sad.  

“You know where I stand on this Scott.  And it seems like everyone kinda agrees with me,” he says.  He leans towards us.  “Thanks for that, by the way.”  Scott just shakes his head, not seeming to upset with our verdict.  I smile, glad that he agrees with us.

Everyone crowds onto my bed, Stiles dramatically flopping himself down next to me.  Allison and Scott sit awkwardly on the foot of my bed while Lydia claims the small spot between Stiles and I.  

“So, uh, not that I don’t love having you guys here, but is there a particular reason you’re all on my bed?” I ask, a frown making its way onto my face.  I love my friends but Scott and Stiles smell like four day old gym shorts, and I really don’t want my sheets smelling like that.  

“This is what is called group bonding,” Stiles points out, a grin plastered on his face.  I raise an eyebrow, confused.  “Well, I guess more like pack bonding, since neither you nor Scott want a piece of Peter’s fucked up one.”   I laugh at that, shaking my head slightly.  

“In all seriousness, we do need some sort of plan,” Allison states.  “My family is still keeping things from me and I still haven’t heard the entire story of how all of this happened.”

Scott and I exchange a look, mentally trying to decide who’s better equipped to tell her the whole story.  I point at Scott and he sighs, knowing that he knows more about the situation than I do.  He starts at the beginning, describing the night we were both bit and what transpired after that.  I input where I think there needs to be more detail, much to Stiles amusement.  

“So, basically a psycho murderer is trying to get you guys to be in his pack while my family actually hunts you?”  We nod our heads.  “And no one thought it was important for us to know this?”  I shrug, knowing that I had wanted to tell both her and Lydia immediately but was shut down by Scott.  He didn’t want to freak her out, but that ship has sailed.  To her credit, she seemed to be handling it very well.  I reach over and grab her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I know this is a lot, but I’m glad you’re here.”  We share a smile, Scott looking confused as usual.  I pat his knee, a slight smile still on my face.  Scott may be cute but his head is totally empty.  No thoughts.  

We hang out for a while, just enjoying each other’s company after a very crazy semester.  Lydia and Allison exchange plans for the dance, Scott complains about not being able to go, Stiles continues on his rant about comic books, and I try to keep up.  We order a pizza and watch a movie, really just being normal for one night.  One by one my friends start to leave, starting with Lydia.  Allison is next to go and then Scott, leaving me and Stiles alone in my room.  He stretches out on my bed, one arm under his head and looking completely at ease.  I give him a confused look, earning me a laugh and the shake of his head.

“We agreed that until Peter is taken care of, we won’t leave you on your own.”  I snort, waving a dismissive hand at him.  “Hey, I can hold my own!”  I outright laugh; the thought of Stiles protecting me from Peter is actually hilarious.  A plan starts forming in the back of my head; I can prove that he can’t beat Peter rather easily.  I stop laughing and put on a serious face.  “What are you doing?” he asks rather loudly.  I tilt my head at the question.  

“I’m not doing anything,” I say innocently.  I stand, going to my dresser to get different clothes, since I had been in the same sweater and gym shorts since arriving home.  I hear Stiles get up to get his homework and that’s when I strike, moving quicker than he could process to pin him to the wall.  My hands barely circle around his wrists but I keep him securely against the wall by using my newly acquired strength, my body pressed against his.  I watch him swallow, a nervous look on his face and he won’t make eye contact with me.  Odd.  I raise an eyebrow. 

“Pinned ya.”  He laughs, some tension leaving his body.  “Honestly though, I don’t think you’d hold up long against Peter.  You can barely hold your own against me, and I’m much smaller.”  I give him a triumphant smile, totally aware of my win.  He takes a deep breath and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are to each other.  

Against my better judgement, I lean in slightly, taking in a lungful of his scent.  He smelled like the woods and gasoline and old books.  His heart beats quickly, almost too quickly for what little activity we had done.  I allow myself to just look at him, my eyes tracing his face and I let myself be amazed by the pattern of moles that litter his face.  I rarely let myself focus too long on his face, afraid of what I may find in his eyes.  Going on my tiptoes, I let go of one wrist to cup his cheek, brushing my thumb against his cheekbone.  Stiles’ eyes close,  a sigh emitting from deep in his chest.   He wraps one arm around me, a half hug that forces me to lower my hand.  I allow him to escape completely from my hold so he can wrap the other arm around me.  

“Evie,” he whispers.  I shake my head, knowing that whatever he’s about to say can wait.  For right now, I just want to be held.  As I lay my head on his chest, the music that had been playing for most of the day switching to something slow.  Stiles starts to sway, in that awkward way boys do when you’re supposed to slow dance.  His chin rests on the top of my head and we stay like that for a long time.  Eventually, the music changes and we pull away, his eyes opening when my hand cups his cheek again.  

I search his expression, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he feels even a kernel of what I feel.  Desperately, I search but come up with nothing.  Stiles’ face gives no inclination that what just happened was meaningful in any way, shape or form.  I pull myself farther away, the beginnings of tears in my eyes.  He reaches for me, but I slip out of his grasp.  Gathering my courage, I put on a happy face when I turn to him. 

“I appreciate the thought, but I think I can take care of myself.”  Stiles frowns, not understanding my change in emotion.

“Are you sure?  I don’t want you to feel unsafe.”  I wave my hand, dismissing his worry with a smile on my face.  On the inside, I’m screaming at him to leave and to never come near me again.  But I can’t do that.  Even though it’s torture, I would much rather have him close to me than to be separated.  

“I’ll be fine.  Don’t worry,” I say with a bright smile.  He nods, packing up his stuff before finally leaving.  I fall onto my bed, desperately trying to keep the tears in.  No boy is worth crying over, I harshly remind myself.  But, a few tears slip from my eyes and once those are free, the rest come rushing out.  Soon, I’m a blubbering, disgusting mess.  The stress from today hits me all at once, dissolving me into more tears until I have no tears left.  

I wipe at my eyes, curling into myself.  I calm myself down enough to call Isaac, my hands shaking as I hit the call button next to his name.  He answers on the fourth ring, sleep coating his voice.

“Hey what’s up?”  I sigh, and he must hear something sad about it since he snaps immediately into action.  “I can be at your house in fifteen, there’s definitely some place still open for a milkshake.  Be ready.”  I laugh softly, already feeling better.

“See you in fifteen,” I say before hanging up.

When Isaac says fifteen, he means it.  By the time I had put on heavier clothes and shoes, he was waiting patiently outside, his dad’s car still running.  I hurry outside, not bothering to tell my parents where I was headed.  They trust Isaac, for whatever reason.  He opens his arms and I rush into them, inhaling the smell of freshly mowed grass and the citrus scent of his cologne.  Issac holds me close and I feel the last of the tension in my body be released, everything melting away.  We head towards the car, a small smile on his face.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing, you just look like shit,” he says with a smirk.  I give him the bird, making him laugh.  We both get into the car and I scrunch my nose up at the smell of it.  His dad’s scent is everywhere and it kind of makes me want to vomit.  It reeks of chlorine and dried blood.  Isaac looks over at me, a grimace on his face.  “I know it smells bad but I didn’t really wanna ride my bike all the way here.”  At that I laugh, the smell forgotten.

The drive to the nearest diner doesn’t take long and we talk the entire time, the chatter keeping me together.  Once inside, Isaac orders us milkshakes (mine chocolate and his strawberry because he’s an odd man) and we sit in our regular booth, three from the front door.  While we wait, we talk about school and our plans for the dance.  Everything with Isaac is so easy and simple.  We never run out of things to talk about and he doesn’t seem to mind that I don’t tell all of every story.  He does the same, so it’s hard to be a hypocrite with that sort of thing.  

Seeking comfort, I reach across the table and grab his hand.  Without thinking, he immediately starts gently rubbing circles on my hand with his thumb, a familiar action between us.  And to think, a few months ago I was worried about making friends.  I sigh, balancing my head on my other hand.  Something has to be done about my crush on Stiles, but what?  He’s obviously not into me the way I’m into him.  Then, I remember how he reacted when Lydia brought up Isaac yesterday in the mall.  His face held an intense amount of jealousy, something I had never seen him wear around Lydia and Jackson.  A plan starts to form in my head, something I’m not sure will work but I’m willing to try.  Things couldn’t get worse.

“I have a question for you,” I say as the waitress sets our milkshakes down in front of us. 

“Shoot,” he says, letting go of my hand to put a straw in his shake.  I gather my courage, deciding that if he says no, it won’t be that big of a deal.  I watch him tear the wrapper off the straw, taking a deep drink of his pink monstrosity, and take a deep breath, deciding it’s now or never.  

“Do you have feelings for me?” I blurt out.  Isaac chokes on his shake, coughing slightly.  I furrow my eyebrows and hand him a few napkins to clean himself up with.  His shirt is covered in ice cream, which would usually set me laughing but I held it in, just to save him embarrassment.  I’m such a good friend.  

“I’m sorry what?” he asks once his coughing is under control.  I play with a piece of my hair, suddenly worried about this very, very stupid plan of mine.

“Do you have feelings for me?  Like, in a romantic sense?”  Isaac narrows his eyes at me, a befuddled look on his face.  If this wasn’t so serious, I may have laughed.  “I’m being serious, Isaac.  Do you have any sort of romantic feelings towards me?  Yes or no?”

“Uh, no?” he says.  I nod, somewhat pleased with his answer.  I kind of figured he didn’t like me in that way, but it would definitely make the next part of my plan a little easier on the both of us.  

“So, I have recently discovered that I have a…”  I pause, searching for the right word to describe how I felt about Stiles.  “Infatuation?  Crush?  I’m not sure.”  Issac holds up a hand.

“It’s not on me is it?  Because I see you as more of a sister…” I laugh, shaking my head.  He sighs, relieved that I’m not into him in that way either.

“No, definitely not on you.  I have a mild crush on Stiles.”  He makes a face at me.  “Yes, I know he loves Lydia but I have a plan.”  I tell him all about our shopping trip and how when Lydia mentioned him, Stiles seemed to get jealous.  I describe what happened before I called him and my plan of how to get Stiles to be interested in me.  

“Hold on.  You want to use me to make Stiles jealous?” he asks.  I nod, confused as to what part of my plan he was confused about.  “Stiles is jealous of me?”  I nod slower this time.  Isaac smiles, a proud look on his face.  “Stiles is jealous of me.”  I roll my eyes; boys.

“Yeah, don’t go getting a big head about it.”  He laughs and I crack a smile.  Isaac agrees to my ridiculous plan, after very little convincing may I add, and even adds his own take on things.  I am impressed with his dedication to my half thought out plan and I know that anything Issac does will drive Stiles insane.  We finish our shakes and head out, the smell of chlorine nearly suffocating me in the car once again.  The drive home is filled with me bouncing in my seat and Issac singing along with the radio.

Once back at my house, Isaac walks me up to my front door and bids me good night.  At this point it’s basically midnight and I’m exhausted.  Just going up the stairs to my room takes a lot out of me, exhaustion hitting at the top of the stairs.  I collapse onto my bed, still wearing the clothes I had borrowed from Stiles.  My sleep is dreamless and deep, and I’m thankful for it.  

The next morning, Isaac is there to pick me up, yet again with his dad’s car.  I made sure to dress warm, in a black turtleneck and jeans, because the heater in the car did not work.  Which is unfortunate for everyone involved, because the chlorine smell did not get pushed around and Isaac refused to put any of the windows down.  I rush outside, hair still half wet from my shower and instantly regret not blow drying it.  It wasn’t cold per say but the chilly wind definitely did not feel good blowing through my hair.

“Ready to make Stilinski jealous?” he says smiling.  I nod, a grin settling on my face.  Confidence settles into my bones and sets my face into a permanent smirk.  Isaac has a matching one plastered onto his face and I know that this will work.  

School goes fairly normally.  Isaac and I get a few stares, most focusing on our linked hands and his arm slung casually around my waist.  Things are going smoothly, almost too smoothly.  We sit on our own at lunch, heads bent over our math homework, Isaac trying to help me figure out a few difficult equations.  He sneaks a kiss on my cheek and I allow myself to blush, knowing he did it to sell it to my friends, who are gawking at us from across the lunch room.  I look up from my book and meet Stiles stare, a smile on my face.  He quickly looks away, embarrassment leaking from him.  I turn towards Isaac, leaning into him a little.

“Do you think he’s buying it?” I whisper.  Isaac nods, laughing quietly and dipping his head to look back down at his notebook.  We eat quickly and start moving towards our next class when Lydia approaches us.

“Evie, I didn’t know you had it in you,” she says, a smirk on her face.  Isaac pauses, making me stop as well.  

“Have what in me?” I ask innocently.  There’s a proud gleam in her eye as she leans towards me.

“You’re going to have him wrapped around your little finger before the month is over.”  I laugh, blushing slightly.  “Seriously.  He can’t stop talking about how much he doesn’t like Isaac.”  She turns towards the man in question.  “You should probably watch your back though.  I’ve heard lots of upset people today.  Evie had more admirers than anyone thought.”  With that, she flips her hair and walks off, leaving a confused Isaac in her wake.  

“That answers my question then,” I say with a laugh.  He just shakes his head and grabs my hand, ready to face more stares.  

The rest of our day goes by quickly and Lydia insists that I attend lacrosse practice.  The temp has dropped by then but I still feel comfortable in just my sweater.  I had purchased a pair of glasses without a prescription to maintain my image, even though my eyesight had perfected itself after becoming a werewolf.  My glasses had clouded up on several occasions while waiting for the boys to appear from the gym.  Lydia wraps a blanket around herself, not used to the cool weather.  I tease her relentlessly for it, but she maintains that it’s a necessary thing.

“Why are we here again?  You aren’t dating Jackson anymore, doesn’t that let you off the hook for these things?” I ask, still confused as to why we’re here.  She sighs, a puff of white air coming from her mouth.

“You should be here, as Isaac’s girlfriend.  I’m just here to reinforce that idea and because I enjoy spending time with my cousin.”  She turns her bright smile onto me. I sigh, knowing that she’s right.  “Besides, these guys don’t really have a lot of support right now, especially since it’s so cold out.  No one wants to come and watch when they could be at home.”  

“You’re not wrong.”  I turn fully towards her.  I pause for a second before asking what’s been eating at me since lunch.  “So, what has Stiles been saying?”  She laughs, shaking her head and making me smile.  Having a crush is kind of nice when you can share it with your friends.  

“He doesn’t understand how Issac managed to land a girlfriend before him,” she says.  I make a face, knowing that if he pulled his head out of his ass for a few minutes he’d be able to see that I was right in front of him.  Lydia just nods, as if not understanding him either.  “He’s so wrapped up in Isaac having a girlfriend that he hasn’t fully processed that you’re the girlfriend.”  Lydia turns to me, a sly look on her face.  “So, what happened last night?  Stiles refuses to tell us  why he left your house but something must have happened between you two for you to go to Issac for help.”

I sigh, deciding to tell her the full story.  With every word she becomes more and more outraged at Stiles reaction.  By the time I’m done, her face has gone completely red with anger.  I have to hide my laugh behind my hand.  

“HE’s an absolute idiot!  Those were clear signs and he just ignored them!” she exclaims, gaining the attention of Coach, who turns to look at us.  We just wave and he goes back to ordering the boys to do sprints.  I sigh, upset again at what had transpired.

“He’s too in love with you to notice anyone else, unfortunately,” I say, sadness lacing my voice.  Lydia narrows her eyes, clearly not aware of how Stiles looks at her.  I huff; of course she doesn’t see it, she barely knew who he was before all of this.  “He just doesn’t see me in that way.”

“Yet,” she says.  “This plan of yours is going perfectly so far and I think that the winter formal is the perfect time to put the last nail in his coffin.”  I tilt my head, confused by what she’s implying.  “We are going to make you so hot that no boy will be able to resist you.”  I laugh; should have seen that one coming.  “Come on, let’s ditch this popsicle stand.  I think it’s time for a bit of makeover.”  She stands, pulling me with her.  I wave at Isaac, blowing a kiss in his direction to really seal the deal.  He waves back and I watch Stiles glare at him.  Interesting.  

Come to find out, ‘a bit of a makeover’ actually meant a complete makeover.  She found the perfect dye to give my strawberry blonde hair a bit more punch to it, making it a more vibrant red shade.  We went to a salon to have my eyebrows waxed and reshaped, as well as to get haircuts, Lydia deciding to do a bit of refreshing herself.  Lydia led me around a few stores, picking out a few new outfits that I could wear this spring, or as she liked to call them ‘man catching clothes’.  She insisted that they would drive Stiles crazy and who was I to deny her?  Hell, we even got our nails done.  

We dyed my hair in my bathroom, trying our best to not make a mess, which was a total fail.  I’ll have red dye on my floor until I’m eighty.  Lydia steals a bottle of wine from my parents liquor cabinet and we get a little wine drunk.  At one point Lydia calls Allison and we all end up sprawled out on my floor, Dirty Dancing playing in the background.

“So, what’s Scott like in bed?” Lydia asks suddenly.  I hit her with a pillow, directly in the face.  “Hey!”

“Too soon Lyds!” I exclaim, while Allison laughs.  

“No, no I can answer,” she says.  We gossip like that for hours, sharing stories and just having fun with each other.  No boys, no craziness, nothing to ruin our perfect day. Both decide to stay over, since it was Friday and I’m happy for the company.  Keeps me from being sad about how my life has decided to go.  We watch movies and just relax for once.

The next day is the winter formal and Lydia insists on helping Allison and I get ready.  She curls my hair, pinning in places where I’ll forget there are pins and helping Allison apply a rather dramatic eyeshadow look.  We all get dressed together, taking pictures as we go, making sure to document this happy time, especially since we don’t know when we’ll have a chance to feel normal again.  The flash from the camera triggers my eyesight, making them glow in every picture but neither girl seems to notice or care.  

The boys all pick us up at my house, where we make them wait in my living room while each one of us makes an entrance, at Lydia’s request.  Allison goes first, with no reaction from Jackson, unsurprisingly. He’s such a piece of work.  I bet I could take him in a fight.  Break his fragile jaw in a single punch.  The confidence those thoughts give me does not last.  I go next, nervously smoothing out the fabric of my skirt and barely able to breathe thanks to Lydia pulling the corset strings exceedingly tight.  

I make it down the stairs without tripping, thankfully.  I hear an intake of breath and I look up from the stairs to see Stiles staring at me, open mouthed.  Isaac glares at him, before turning a smile to me.  I do my best to focus only on Isaac, smiling and spinning a little to show off the back.  Hearing a soft gulp, I turn towards Stiles again, a smirk on my face, the confidence coming back almost immediately at his face.

“You’re drooling Stilinski,” Jackson states, making me laugh.  The only time he will ever say something humorous.  Stiles immediately snaps his mouth shut and steals glances at me everyone once in a while.  Lydia descends rather quickly but he keeps looking at me.  I do my best to ignore him, instead focusing on fixing Isaac’s tie.  

After fixing his tie, I go on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, leaving a near perfect impression of my lips there in the dark red lipstick Lydia had applied.  I can feel Stiles’ stare on my back and can hear his heartbeat quicken. My parents snap a few pictures of all of us, everyone complaining about it.  

We leave quickly after that, Stiles following us in his Jeep.  The dance itself goes off without a hitch.  Isaac and I dance, trying to ignore the fact that Stiles eventually gets Lydia to dance with him and the jealousy that comes with seeing her pressed so closely to him.  I know she doesn’t like him, but it still hurts.  Scott sneaks in at some point, dances with Danny, and then proclaims his love for Allison before they both disappear, presumably to go make out somewhere.  Jackson also disappears mid-way through and doesn’t reappear.  Not long after that, Lydia leaves to go find him with Stiles trailing after her like a lost puppy.  I push aside my irritation at him to focus on helping my cousin find her awful ex.  

“Hey, maybe we should go help Lydia find Jackson,” I yell over the music.  Isaac nods, a grim look on his face, which does nothing to curb my approaching anxiety.  

We make our way out of the school when a blood curdling scream comes from the practice field. Panic crawls up my spine; that was distinctly Lydia.  Without a look towards Isaac, I start sprinting towards it, following the scent of fear and Chanel perfume that laces the air.  I get there right as Stiles starts to leave with Peter, Lydia’s body bleeding profusely from multiple wounds.  I stop, partially not wanting Peter to see me, but also out of pure terror.  

It takes them a few moments to leave completely, and I feel Isaac come up beside me, breathing heavily.  Once they are completely out of sight and I can no longer hear Stiles’ heartbeat, I dart onto the field, Isaac close behind me.  I kneel down next to my cousin and check her pulse, fighting back the terror I feel in my stomach.  Peter did a real number on her; her dress is torn and blood is leaking steadily from a bite on her shoulder.  There’s blood everywhere, streaked across her face and other shoulder.  I have to listen very closely, but I can hear her heart beating.  I let out a soft sob of relief at the noise.  

I hear Jackson run up behind us; Stiles must have called him to come get her.  Paying the boys no attention, I manage to lift Lydia off the ground, carrying her towards the school.  A deadly calm settles over me, replacing the usual panic.

“Isaac, call my mom.  Jackson, call 911.”  Both nod at my directions, heading in opposite directions to make their calls.  After he’s done, Jackson heads towards where I’m standing with Lydia and tries to take her from my arms.  “I’ve got it handled,” I growl at him, flashing my eyes. He takes several steps back, a look of terror on his face.  

Isaac pays no attention to us, having a very heated discussion with my mom that I do my best to tune out.  I turn towards the school, walking slowly so as to not cause any more harm to Lydia’s already broken body.

It takes the ambulance ten minutes to reach the school and take my cousin from my arms.  I ride in the back with her, since I was the only relative present at the time.  I hold her hand the entire ride to the hospital, managing to keep my tears in check by listening to the rise and fall of her heartbeat.  As they hurry her inside, I finally let myself fall apart, that calm disappearing entirely.  The tears came quick and hot, ruining whatever makeup was still left on my face.  A nurse led me to an empty waiting room, got me a bottle of water and a chocolate bar, and just sat with me until my tears stopped.  

“Lydia is a strong girl, I know she’ll be okay,” she said.  I nod, wondering how she knows Lydia.  She must see the confusion on my face because she adds, “I’m Melissa McCall, Scott’s mom.  You’re Evie right?  He talks about you all the time.  You and Stiles are the main reasons he’s not failing more classes.”  I feel my face go hot; Scott was the last person I expected to actually enjoy my company.  She smiles and hands me a tissue from her scrubs pocket.  “Here.” I take it, loudly blowing my nose and wiping my eyes, feeling much less panicked about the whole ordeal.  

“Thank you,” I say quietly.  She wraps an arm around me, pulling me into an awkward sitting hug.  Melissa lets me go after a few moments, clearing her throat.

“I have some extra clothes if you want to change out of your dress.”  I look down and nearly vomit at the sight of my ruined dress.  Lydia’s blood had dried in the fabric, the bodice was covered in it.  How I hadn’t noticed before now was astounding.  I nod and Melissa takes me to a locker room in the basement of the hospital.  She digs out a pair of clean scrubs and hands them to me.  “There’s a shower around the corner if you’d like to freshen up.  I have a feeling it might be awhile before anyone is allowed to see her.”  

“What about my dress?”  I ask, picking at the material of the skirt.  I would be sad if we had to discard it; it really had been the perfect dress.  Melissa taps her chin a few times, thinking.

“Let me see what I can do,” she says with a smile.  I nod and head towards the shower, peeling the blood soaked dress off and laying it gingerly on a nearby bench for Melissa to collect while I washed myself off.  

I struggle with the faucet for a few moments, not understanding which way to turn it to get the hot water flowing.  Once I got it figured out, I spent several minutes just standing under it, letting the hot water relax my tense muscles.  I do my best to not let the events of the evening replay, to just focus on right now.  I scrub off the dried blood that leaked through my dress and try to forget about how it got there and who it belonged to.  My mind wanders as I gently wash my face free of any traces of makeup and turn off the water to see that Melissa had taken my dress and replaced it with a clean towel.  I gratefully dry myself off and dress in the scrubs she had given me.

I emerge from the locker room more tired than I had been when I went in.  I take the elevator up to where the waiting room is, barefooted and holding my heels in my hand.  Leaning against the back wall of the elevator, I watch the numbers rise as it passes each floor, the soft bell noise calming my frayed nerves.  When the doors open, I pull myself away from the wall and exit.  Turning the corner into the waiting room, the yelling match happening finally hits my ears, making me wince, immediately recognizing the voices as my aunt and uncle.  Lydia’s mom and dad argue all the time, and, despite their daughter being in the hospital, this is no different.  They scream about who’s fault it is, who’s going to pay the hospital bills, where she’s going to go after she’s let out, everything that didn’t matter right now.  

I sigh and collapse into a chair as far away from them as I could.  They had divorced a few years back, to no one’s surprise.  Lydia’s mom, my aunt, is kind and loves Lydia with her whole heart, but marriage had never sat well with her.  She wasn’t domestic and Lydia’s dad hated that.  They fought all the time, to the point that even Lydia could see the cracks in their relationship before their separation was even announced.  I don’t think she ever processed it thoroughly.  

Eventually they quieted down and I heard her dad leave, slamming the door as he went.  My aunt collapsed down next to me and I turned my tired eyes towards her.  She looks a lot like my mom, though Mom has fewer worry lines around her emerald eyes.  Natalie had aged well but she looked tired, it was evident in her eyes.  

“Thank you for…”  she pauses, swallowing.  Her eyes go glossy with tears.  “For everything.  I don’t know what I would have done if she had… if she had died.”  I nod, lacing my fingers with her own and squeezing.  She squeezes back and wipes her eyes with her other hand.  

“She’s going to be okay,” I whisper.  She nods, though neither of us are sure of anything anymore.  Natalie nods again, relaxing further into the chair and closing her eyes.  I do the same, hoping that maybe sleep will find us and grant us an escape from the mess we are in.  

[jjmaybankx]

This is awesome! Alexa. 5’7, long brown hair, hazel eyes, pretty athletic. I like hiking, camping, reading, writing, art, & playing sports. I’m generous, loyal, CLUMSY, shy, stubborn, a crackhead, and smart. My friends know I’m always right. 😌 Hopefully that’s enough!

added description: sexuality: straight/bi. hates attention, insanely self conscious, but if comfortable will open up. From Colorado. 

bb i love you already! you won’t ever have to be self conscious if i’m around.

——

who are you » obx

send one in

Kook or Pogue: Kook with a Pogue heart, just like Kiara. She’s actually the one you met first, and when you started hanging out with her and her boys, the other teens on The Figure Eight dubbed you a Pogue as well.

who you’d be best friends with: JJ! The two with crackhead energy in the group, you and JJ just clicked. It was almost like you guys liked one another, but everyone eventually realized it was just a strong bond. You’d play volleyball together on the beach at night, or you’d lug him hiking with the others were surfing—which was a big deal since JJ loved surfing. He was the best surfer on the island, but anything for his best friend.

who you’d be dating: Pope! Your crackhead energy bounced off of his slighty-paranoid-about-everything-they-do energy. He’d help you learn to not hate attention, but he’s also very lowkey in a relationship. It was pretty private, other than the Pogues knowing about you two, and your parents. But it could just look like the two of you were friends hanging out when you were actually on dates, and that was one aspect you loved about the relationship: it didn’t define who you guys were.

who you wouldn’t get along with: not that you didn’t get along with the Kooks, you just avoided them at all costs.

your unlikely friend: you were surprisingly close to Wheezie Cameron on account that you were her tutor.

if you go to Kook Academy or Kildare County High: Kook Academy!

TEEN WOLF VERSION

Species: Werecoyote, mainly because I can see matching Malia to your personality description

Who you’d be friends with: You would’ve been the new girl, quite like Allison, Kira, and Malia, and Scott can smell that you’re supernatural. Thus, enlists you to join their pack.

Who you’d be dating: Stiles! Your slightly awkward personalities made it painful for the rest of the pack to watch the two of you bounce around the idea of being together, brushing it off like it wasn’t inevitable. You also thought that Isaac was pretty cute, but he left for France before that could develop.

Who you wouldn’t get along with: Chris and Allison. While they were reformed hunters and not a threat to you, your family had embedded in you that Argents and any other hunters were not meant to be trusted, so you just always had that distrust in the back of your head, no matter how many times they saved your life.

your unlikely friend: Theo. While your boyfriend strongly distrusted him, as the rest of the pack, you were always just more welcoming to him. The way you saw it, if he wanted to help, let him help. If he wanted to go, let him go.

if you make it to the last episode or not: Yes ma’aaaam. On the last episode when they all meet up together, you pulled up with Stiles and Lydia, feeling of nostalgia running through all of you as you came together as a pack one again, even after living your own lives for a bit. You and Stiles had both gone to quantico together

[theycallmemoosey]

Out Of Harms Way (2/7)

Harry Potter x Teen Wolf AU

Chapter 2/7 (Chapter 1 Here)

Derek Hale x Reader

A/N: IT’S HERE! It took SO LONG and I am so sorry about that, but it is here! I also must warn that this chapter is very long...sorry!! I’m not going to write a whole lot, other than I am really looking forward to writing the next chapter. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!! Also, if you would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know. Ok. I really hope you enjoy this one. Moose :)

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The summer could not have gone slower after your first year at Hogwarts. As much as you loved your family and spending your days in the sun, you spent every day counting down the minutes until you would arrive back at the castle grounds with your second family. Although you didn’t get to see many of your friends, you learned that Hermione lived only a few minutes from you, so you would go to her house to learn more about the wizarding world and talk about the usual things any young teenagers would talk about. You planned to meet up with your Hogwarts older brother, Jackson, but you never ended up seeing him, much to your disappointment. The only other person you had not heard from was Harry, but after learning about his life at home, you thought that maybe he just didn’t get time to write, or his god forsaken aunt and uncle wouldn’t let him. You were just excited to see them all again in just a few weeks time.

“Y/N! Hermione is here!”  Your mum called from down the stairs as you flung your door open and ran down the stairs in a flash.

“Hey Hermione!” You smiled, grabbing your coat and rushing out the door, “BYE MUM! SEE YOU IN A BIT!” 

“You ready for this year?” Hermione asked as the two of you climbed into Hermione’s parents’ car as you all headed towards Diagon Alley.

“A lot more this year than I was last year” you laughed, “You’ve taught me so much as well, so I feel a lot better” 

“I bet you can’t wait to see the guys” she whispered, smirking slightly, “Especially Jackson” 

“Ew NO!” You laughed, “Jackson is like my brother” 

“Oh oh ok sure” she laughed with you, “How about Malfoy?” 

“He wishes” you scoffed, “I wish he would just leave me alone” 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but honestly, if you play your cards right, you may be able to get him on our side” 

“Our side?” 

“Well…not the dark side” Hermione whispered, aware that her parents had stopped momentarily. 

“It’s inevitable!” You smiled sadly, “He’s born into one of the most evil families there are…according to Stiles anyway” 

“For once, Stiles is right…but you never know, Y/N, people can change” she smiled back, sighing a breath of relief when the car pulled up outside the entrance to Diagon Alley.

—————————————

“Y/N! HERMIONE!” Lydia and Allison ran up to you, each of them giving the two of you tight hugs.

“Hey guys” you smiled, “How was your summer?” 

“Guys we have no time to talk about our summers right now” Lydia said quickly, “Gilderoy Lockhart is in Flourish and Blotts!” 

“What?” You’re kidding me” Hermione suddenly perked up, “He’s here? Like…through that door there?” 

“Sorry…am I missing something here?” You asked.

“Have you been living under a rock or something, Y/N?” Lydia cried.

“He’s a famous wizard” Allison explained as Hermione and Lydia fangirled over their idol, “He’s battled many dark forces and beasts in the world and has lived long enough to tell the story. He’s released so many books about his adventures” 

“Oh how humble” You muttered.

“Tell me about it!” Allison laughed, “I think the only reason anybody actually likes him is because of his so called good looks” 

“Is he?”

“I don’t think so…but Lydia and Hermione clearly think he is” she pointed out as the two of you followed the crowd into Flourish and Blotts. 

“Allison!” Scott called out to her, “Hey” 

“Hi” She smiled shyly at the young boy stood next to her, “You and Derek were dragged here too as well then?” 

“And Ron” he giggled as he nodded towards the red head boy stood glumly at the end of the stairs, “Mum found Molly and they’ve been stuck together like glue for the entire day. You would never have guessed today was for our benefit” 

“Never” she giggled with him, blushing as he nudged her side.  

“Hey stranger” you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. 

“Hey Derek” 

“So I assume you’re also here to see the man of your dreams?” 

“Lockhart? Never heard of him until 5 minutes ago” 

“What a muggle” he laughed to himself, “Let’s try and squeeze next to all the mums, let you have a good look at him, shall we?” 

“Thanks, but I’m quite happy here” you chuckled, resisting Derek’s pull. 

“Alright alright, but don’t come crying to me when you regret it later” 

“Trust me, I won’t” you smiled, your eyes flicking over to Allison and Scott chatting away happily. 

“Oh yeah, they’re together now” Derek announced as he caught on, “It’s all I’ve heard about for the entire summer” 

“They’re cute” you smiled, happy for them both. 

“It’s disgusting” a voice perked up from behind you, “It makes me gag every time I look at them together” 

“Who asked you, Stiles?” You chuckled, turning round to look at the small boy stood behind you, “I think they’re sweet” 

“I think-oh hey, RON!” His attention was immediately distracted when his eyes landed on Ron who was looking as glum as ever. 

“I’ll never understand that boy” you laughed, turning to Derek who was trying to look over the shoulders of the women crowding around the table, “Have you seen Harry at all?” 

“No…No I can’t say I have” you shrugged, looking around you, “I heard he was coming with Ron?” 

“HARRY HARRY!” Molly Weasley called out when her eyes landed on the door, spotting a confused and disgruntled Harry stumble in, “Where have you been?! No matter, you’re here now. Quickly, come on now, I want you to see Gilderoy” 

Harry was rushed past you too quickly for you to be able to even say hi to him, but he noticed and waved just as he was being dragged past, making you and Derek laugh. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to miss this” Derek said as he walked towards the crowd after hearing Harry’s name be called by Lockhart himself. 

“Y/N?” 

You groaned internally but turned around and smiled politely when you came face to face with the person you dreaded seeing the most. 

“Malfoy” 

“Draco, please…” he smiled, “Hey, listen…I just wanted to apologise for not writing to you over the summer. I was so busy the entire time, I just…never got round to it. My father signed me up to this scholarship program which meant that I had to have extra tutoring and everything like that” 

“Is that so?” You asked carelessly, your eyes scanning the room to find some excuse to leave.

Draco sighed and took a quick glance around the room before hesitantly dragging you away from direct sight from his father. 

“Draco, what’s-“ 

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you right now” he sighed, “I want to apologise for the way I acted last year…I was ignorant and rude towards you and I don’t want to be distant for the next 6 years while we are at school. I want us to get on…I want to be friends” 

“I-I think that might work. If you just…just realise the way you act and your tone and-“ 

“I get it. But I need you to help me. Just let me know if I do something wrong”

“Want my first piece of advice?” 

“Of course” he smiled. 

“Stop teasing the Weasleys” 

“Sorry what?” His smile fell quickly. 

“I saw you earlier, teasing the Weasleys. Especially Ron’s sister…leave the poor girl alone, won’t you?” 

“But…they’re…” 

“They’re people, Draco. Not something you stepped in” 

“Y/N!” Lydia called you over, “He’s taking pictures with everyone! Come on!” 

You nodded at her but turned back to Draco, “Prove that you’re not as unkind as I think you are, and I might just consider being your friend” 

Just as you tried to push your way through the crowd, Harry bumped into you on his way out, looking as frazzled and confused as ever. 

“Harry, are you ok?” You asked, brushing some soot that still lingered on his robes from whatever he had been doing before he arrived, “You got dragged into that one, didn’t you” 

“I’m fine. Just a bit…shocked, I think” he laughed quietly. 

The interaction between the two of you sparked a jealous outrage in Draco, “I bet you loved that didn’t you, Potter?” 

“Draco…” you sighed in defeat.

“Famous Harry Potter” he spat, “Can’t even go to a bookshop without making the front page” 

“Leave him alone” Ron’s little sister, Ginny, stepped out of the crowd of boys in Harry’s defence. You thought it was sweet, but you groaned in annoyance, only knowing that Draco would tease her more for it. You saw Stiles reach for her shoulder but he just fell short.

“Oh look, Potter! You’ve got yourself a girlfriend” Draco smirked, his smile suddenly falling when a cane harshly landed on his shoulder. You looked up to see a man with gorgeous long, almost white hair, identical to that of Draco’s. 

“Now, Draco” the man smiled patronisingly, his attention turning to Harry very quickly, “Play nicely” 

You stepped next to Draco, “What did we JUST talk about?” 

“I’m sorry…I just-“ 

“Sorry isn’t good enough. They’re my friends, Draco” 

“He’s a Potter! They’re the Weasleys!” 

“And what? You’re a Malfoy! Big deal!” 

Draco’s eyes landed on the floor as you continued scolding him, “I couldn’t help it” 

“You could have at least tried” 

“Y/N, look” Hermione came up from behind you, interrupting you as she proudly showed off her signed copy of Lockhart’s book, “He’s so wonderful” 

“You must be Miss Granger!” Draco’s father surprised you, “Yes, Draco has told me all about you…and your…parents” 

You turned to scowl at Draco, who avoided all eye contact with you.

“Muggles?” 

“Hermione, let’s go. I need to go and-“ 

“Y/N, I assume?” 

“That’s me” you sighed, feeling irritated at having been interrupted. 

“Lucius Malfoy. I hear that you have become good friends with my son. It would be a pleasure to have you over some time to meet my wife. From what Draco tells me, you and she would get on pleasantly” 

“I’ll get back to you. Nice to meet you” 

“And you my dear” he smiled weakly as you pulled Hermione out of the shop, asking her if she was ok. 

“Fine…fine. Do you have everything you need?” 

“I think so” you nodded. 

“Good. Let’s get out of here” 

————————————

The first feast of the school year had just ended, and you enjoyed meeting up with Astoria - the one girl in the house you really got on with. You saw Draco stare at you constantly, despite his two gremlins chat and chew loudly in his ears. You never took a liking to Crabbe or Goyle, finding them physically repulsive. You couldn’t care for bullies. You did notice, however, that the feast was missing three particular boys. Harry and Ron were missing from the Gryffindor, which made you wonder what mischief the boys had found themselves getting into this time. Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember seeing them on the platform or on the train earlier either. However, you didn’t think about it for too long as you were more focused on the absence of your school older brother. 

Walking into the common room, you scanned the room full of excited first years and grumpier older years. Your gaze finally landed on the back of an older boys head, the familiar tufts of hair stuck up in the air as if to identify him. You sighed before walking over towards the familiar face as he was nose deep in The Daily Prophet.

“You weren’t at dinner” 

“Not hungry” Jackson shrugged, a small smile forming on his face at the sound of your voice. 

“Liar” you laughed, jumping onto the sofa next to him, “Why didn’t you come?” 

“Had better things to do” 

“Like what? Certainly not writing letters to your friends over the summer…” 

Jackson sighed and closed his paper, “I knew that would come up” 

“Care to explain your non existence over the summer?” You scolded gently, not wanting to have a full blown argument in the middle of the common room on the first evening of school.

“I was…busy, ok? I’m sorry” he said gently, meeting your eyes for the first time that evening, “I would have written. God knows I would have written to you, but I just…” 

“What?” You prompted him when he hesitated, sensing something was wrong. 

Jackson looked around carefully before leaning closer into you, “My parents…well…let’s just say some pure bloods found out about me. And they had no hesitation in making their feelings known” 

“W-what do you mean?” 

Jackson looked down before lifting his jumper slightly, revealing a very noticeable scar on his abdomen. 

You gasped at the sight, “oh my god…” 

“That’s the worst one. There are a couple more scattered about so I’ll have to just wear jumpers and long shirts for the next couple terms while they heal. My parents on the other hand…” 

“You have to tell someone!” 

“The ministry are already on it. But the pureblood…they’re what they call Death Eaters…” 

“What are they?” You asked, not liking the sound of them. 

“Voldemort’s minions. They’re the most evil wizards in history. They’re mostly all pure bloods…and Slytherins. They frown upon muggle borns…especially those in their school house” 

“I’m so sorry” you said softly, placing a hand on Jackson’s arm. You felt bad for scolding him for not sending a single letter. 

“This is why you cannot tell anyone about what you are, Y/N. If the wrong people find out, something bad will happen. To you and your family. I don’t want that happening to you, Y/N, of all people” 

“I promise” you nodded, “Listen, if you and your parents need somewhere to escape to…my house is open for you” 

“They’d find us” he smiled sadly, “They’re the most powerful wizards in the world. A simple tracking spell is nothing to them” 

The clock struck 9, and Jackson sighed as he snapped back to his usual character, “Right Miss, off to bed. You can’t be sleeping in on the first day” 

“Ok” you smiled, groaning as you got up before giving Jackson a hug goodnight, “I’m sorry for getting mad at you” 

“You didn’t know” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head quickly, “Now go to bed. Before I make you” 

—————————

“Let me introduce you to your new defence against the dark arts teacher!” Lockhart announced from the balcony outside his office, “Me” 

“Oh my god just kill me now” you groaned, making Hermione elbow you. You made eye contact with Allison on the other side of the room, who looked just as unimpressed as you did. She mouthed oh my god, which made you giggle quietly. 

“Now, I thought we would start today” Lockhart smugly announced, “With a little quiz!”

“What the-“ 

“Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you’ve read my full collection of books!” 

“Thank you” Hermione sighed, making you cringe. You took your papers from a love-struck Hermione and turned around to see a very unimpressed Harry and Ron. 

“He can’t be serious” you whispered as Lockhart continued handing out the quizzes. 

“On the contrary” Harry stared at the arrogant questions, “I think he is” 

“Jesus” you groaned, slumping round in your seat. 

“Y/N! I know all the answers! And I didn’t even have to study!” Hermione smiled, making you feel a little scared. 

“Wow” you smiled forcefully, internally cringing at the very idea of having to be with this man for the rest of the year. 

“You have 30 minutes! Begin!” 

You struggled through the test, not knowing near as enough information about this self indulgent man than you apparently should have. Once the test had been collected, Lockhart shook his head in disappointment. 

“Honestly, not nearly enough of you know that my favourite colour is Lilac!” He groaned, “Although Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition. Good girl” 

“This is it. I’m going to throw up” you mumbled, hearing Harry snigger behind you. 

“Now…be warned” Lockhart drew his wand, “It is my job to prepare you for the most evil creatures know to mankind!” 

As he hit the cage, it began to rattle, and little squeals came from underneath the cloth. You gulped, feeling your heart rate pick up at the thought of what was in there.

“Know that no harm can befall you as long as I am here” Lockhart smugly affirmed. 

“Well thank God for that” you whispered. 

“I must ask you not to scream…for it might PROVOKE THEM!” He warned, revealing the cage of bright blue creatures.

“Cornish Pixies?!” Seamus laughed, “Oh lord save me, I’m terrified!” 

“Laugh all you want, Finnigan! But these can be devilishly tricky little…let’s see what you make of them” 

Lockhart opened the door to the cage, letting out the gaggle of Cornish Pixies. The immediately flew out into the classroom, knocking books from desks and pulling any strand of hair they could grab hold of. You ran away from the desk towards the back door, but a hand pulled you by the wrist under a desk. 

“Derek?! What’s happening!” 

“Just stay under here!” He whispered, keeping you close out of sight of the pixies, “They’re not the brightest creatures alive!” 

You watched from underneath the desk as a few of the pixies pulled Neville into the air by his ears, hearing him cry for help as his feet gradually got further away from the ground.

You stood up from the desk, “DO SOMETHING!” 

Lockhart stood gawking at the young boy hanging from the class chandelier. You ran forward underneath Neville, bumping into a fleeing Draco on the way. 

“Draco, help me!” 

“No way!” He cried, not looking back as Crabbe and Goyle followed him out of the door with the rest of the class. 

You rushed towards Harry, Ron and Hermione who were trapped at the front of the classroom, swatting away the pixies with their limited edition Gilderoy Lockhart autobiographies. You managed to swat one out of the way before it managed to pull Hermione into the air. 

“Pesky pixies pesto-“ Lockhart happily began chanting before a pixie snatched his wand away, firing it at the hanging skeleton right above you. 

“Y/N, LOOK OUT!!” Derek called, rushing towards you and pushing you away before you were crushed by a thestral skeleton. You gasped and stood up quickly, seeing Lockhart run and escape to his office, leaving the five of you to fend for yourselves.

“What do we do now?!” Ron cried, carelessly throwing books all around him. 

Hermione stood up quickly, “IMMOBULOUS!” 

Suddenly, the room of pixies became still as each of the little blue creatures floated around in the air slowly, as if they became paralysed in space. 

“You never fail to amaze me Hermione” You smiled, the five of you panting as your adrenaline rush seemed to fade away. You all looked up towards Neville, who was still hanging from the chandelier, surrounded by floating pixies. 

“Why is it always me?!” 

—————————————————

“Y/N, you doing anything for the next few periods?” Jackson asked, fully kitted out in his quidditch gear. 

“No, just me and my homework” you smiled. 

“Want to come and watch? Learn the rules and what not so you can start practicing yourself?” 

“I’m not a sporty person” 

“No…but you’re a team leader. Which I like” 

You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the next few hours alone in the common room, and some fresh air would be nice to complete your homework in. 

“Alright. I’ll go. But only because you asked so nicely” 

“Lucky me” he smiled, “Alright guys! Let’s go!” 

You watched as the Slytherin quidditch team excitedly gathered their brooms and headed out towards the door, but your smile dropped when you saw the last team member. 

“Draco?!” 

“I know right?” He smiled, his arms outstretched to show off his new quidditch uniform. 

“But…how?” 

“Private flying lessons. And as a reward for doing so well, my father got everyone on the quidditch team these brand new brooms” 

“You’re kidding” you shook your head.

“You coming to watch?” 

“I was, actually, yeah” you sighed, picking up your textbooks and quill. 

“Great, I was hoping you would come along to watch a quidditch match eventually”

You followed the team out to the square, trailing along loosely behind them. You saw from a distance a group of red and gold robes, holding your breath when you realised an argument would soon form. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Whittemore?” Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team asked. You smiled at Harry, who waved slightly but looked painfully awkward to be in the midst of a house argument. Your eyes soon landed on a small boy at the back of the group. Stiles was no doubt trailing along, just like you were, as he was always so keen to be on the team.

“Quidditch practice” Jackson answered plainly. 

“I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today” 

“Easy Wood,” Jackson laughed, pulling a scroll from out of his robe “I have a note”

You saw Hermione, Ron, Lydia and Derek come up next to you, “Hey guys” 

“What’s happening?” Hermione whispered, listening to the conversation between the two team captains. 

“New seeker huh?” Wood asked, “Who?” 

“Oh no” you whispered, knowing what was about to happen. 

Draco smugly stepped to the front of the group, making Harry’s eyes widen.

“Malfoy?” He asked, laughing in astonishment. 

“Alright?” 

“Woah…those are Nimbus 2001’s!” Ron pointed out as he inspected the new brooms the Slytherin team were sporting, “How did you get those?” 

“A gift” Jackson explained, “From Draco’s father?” 

“You see, Weasley?” Draco smirked, “Unlike some, my father can afford the best!” 

“Draco” you hissed in warning, making Derek smile slightly. 

“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in” Hermione snapped, making Lydia giggle and Draco’s blood boil, “They got in on pure talent” 

“No one asked your opinion” Draco spat, “You filthy little mudblood” 

Lydia gasped and Derek took a threatening step forward, only stopping when you placed your hand on his arm to stop him. Your eyes met Jackson’s, who only gulped and looked down in disappointment. 

“Take that back, Malfoy!” Stiles defended her from the back of the Gryffindor team, “What gives you the right to call people that disgusting word. You’re just jealous of people like Hermione and-“ 

“And who, Stilinski?” Draco challenged, “At least Slytherin isn’t infested with scum like muggle-borns” 

“Oh yeah?!” Stiles argued, “How about-“ 

“STILES! ENOUGH!” Lydia stopped him, aware that he was about to blow your cover. 

“Hermione, let’s go” you muttered, your glare constant on Draco as you guided her away from him. 

“You’ll pay for that, Malfoy” you heard Ron say, “EAT SLUGS!” 

The next thing you saw was Ron blasting backwards and landing heavily on the ground. 

“RON!” Harry called, all of you rushing towards him to see if he was alright. 

“I think he’s going to be sick” Derek pointed out as Ron turned over to do exactly that. Except it wasn’t sick…it was…slugs?

“Ewww” the Gryffindor team said in unison. 

You knelt down and stroked Ron on the back, telling Stiles to run and get a nurse. 

“Wow!” A young boy with blonde hair said after taking a picture on his rather large camera, “Can you turn him around Harry?” 

“No, Colin!” Harry scolded, helping you pick Ron up, “Get out of the way!” 

“Harry, what do we do?” Hermione asked. 

“Take him to Hagrid” Lydia suggested, “He’ll know what to do” 

Derek and Harry helped Ron out of the courtyard and you followed quickly behind the girls, stopping when you heard Draco laugh. 

“Seriously?” 

“What? That was hilarious!” 

“How could you!” You snapped, making Draco shoo away the rest of the team while you yelled at him, “To even think I considered being your friend…God am I an idiot. Just…stay away from me. At least until you learn to be a decent person!” 

You stormed off, hearing some of the other Slytherin boys make noises in jest as they witnessed Draco be told off by you. You couldn’t care less right now. You just had to make sure Ron was going to be ok. 

——————————

You rubbed your eyes of sleep when you arrived back at the common room from Hagrid’s. You managed to slip past the prefect as it was after hours, but you were surprised to see another student out of bed. You instantly recognised the bleach blonde hair of the person facing away from you, clearly nervous about something. You took a deep breath before storming past the sofas, not wanting to talk to him. 

“Y/N! Wait!” 

“I’m not talking to you, Draco” 

“I can’t apologise enough. I know I promised but-“ 

“Yes, you’re right! You promised! You promised you would stop but you didn’t. You are a bully. You are a horrible, self centred bully!” 

“Y/N-“ 

“NO! I am talking right now!” You shouted at him, not caring if you woke anybody else up, “You made a promise, but you couldn’t keep it could you. Well, at least you’ve lived up to the Slytherin legacy. I can’t believe I believed you” 

“Y/N, please let me explain…” 

“Explain? EXPLAIN? Explain why you feel its acceptable to treat people like that” 

“Sit down” he gestured towards the sofa opposite him, sighing when he sat down himself. 

“No” 

“Fine…I’ve been brought up in a world where pure blood wizards are the only wizards acceptable. My father has always taught me that anyone that comes from any other style of life are scum. Half-bloods, muggle-borns…I’ve been taught to always make them feel their worth…like nothing” 

“Nothing? You really think that a person deserves the torment you give them?” You asked, perching on the arm of the sofa. 

“Well…I…it’s complicated” 

“No, Draco…it’s a yes or no answer. Do you think a person - ANY person - deserves to be teased and bullied by someone like you? What makes you so much better than everybody else?” 

“Well what are you?” He questioned, his gaze changing from his feet to your eyes. 

“What am I? What do you mean what am I? I’m a witch” 

“No…what ARE you? I’m a pureblood…if it wasn’t already evident enough” 

“Oh” you said quietly, “Umm…uhhh…” 

“Umm?” 

“Pureblood” you lied, not able to look at him.

“So you know the pressure we are under? From our parents?” He asked, his voice almost pleading with you to understand. 

“No…because my parents aren’t bullies” you stated, feeling bad when you saw Draco’s look of defeat, “But I know deep down you aren’t either” 

“Huh?” 

“Draco” you sighed, sitting down properly on the sofa, “I know you don’t enjoy teasing people. I know you just do it as an exterior. You feel like you have to make half bloods and…and muggle borns feel like they don’t belong. But you don’t. You don’t have to act like this just to impress your father, Draco” 

“You think I do this to impress my father?” 

“Not necessarily. I think the Malfoy family have a reputation. A reputation that you don’t want to ruin” 

Draco chuckled quietly, “How do you know me so well?” 

“I can read people easily” you shrugged, “Listen, I’m still not happy with you. But I know there’s a good heart in there somewhere, Draco…just…just try”

“I have tried” he pleaded. 

“Try harder” you half heartedly smile, before standing up and stretching, “I’m going to bed. Just think about what you’ve done” 

———————————

“I can’t believe you said that to her!” You laughed after leaving the great hall early after dinner, “How do you do it?” 

“It’s easy” Astoria explained, “Just remember that she is no more important than anybody else in this school. Honestly, Pansy can just-“ 

“Oh my god” you stopped suddenly, seeing Harry stood shocked in the corridor, clearly not having been at dinner, stood next to a wall covered in what you could only think was blood. 

“Harry?” You breathed out, “Ron? Hermione? What’s-“

“It’s-it’s not what-“ 

It wasn’t long before the rest of the school spilled out of the doors to the great hall, all stopping behind you and crowding around a terrified Harry. 

“Y/N? What’s-“ 

“I’ve no idea, Lydia…” 

“The chamber of secrets has been opened?” Scott read aloud. 

“Enemies of the heir, beware” Draco said loudly before turning his attention to Hermione, “You’ll be next mud bloods” 

You breathed heavily through your nose, taking a step in front of Hermione to glare at Draco, who quickly found something very interesting in his feet. 

“What’s going on here?” Filch, the nut job caretaker, asked loudly, “MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!” 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Derek appeared behind you, having made his way from the back of the crowd, “I heard Malfoy” 

“I’m fine…Harry, I’m not so sure” 

“Harry Potter?” Filch snarled, “What were you-“ 

His sentence trailed off as his eyes moved upwards to were Mrs. Norris was stiff as a post, hanging from one of the hooks in the corridor as if she was a stuffed toy.

“YOU MURDERED MY CAT!” He accused. 

“No…no no I-I-“ Harry stuttered. 

“I’ll kill ya” Filch threatened, taking a handful of Harry’s robes, “I’LL KILL YA!” 

“ARGUS!” Dumbledore warned as he emerged through the crowd, stopping when he saw the writing on the wall, “Everyone…will proceed to their dormitories immediately” 

“Come on” Astoria tugged at your sleeve. 

“Everyone except” Dumbledore interrupted, gesturing towards the trio, “You three” 

“Stay safe” Derek whispered as he walked past you to join the gryffindor crowd. 

“Y/N!” Jackson called out in a hushed tone, making you fall to the back of the crowd, “Are you ok?” 

“Fine. You?” 

“I-I’m ok” he nodded. 

“What’s that all about? Why is it so urgent?” You asked Jackson.

“I don’t know, I really don’t know. But I don’t think Malfoy was kidding…Y/N, listen to me” he stopped the two of you, making sure everyone was out of earshot, “You have to be careful. WE have to be careful. I think they’re after us...”

“Us? As in-“ 

“As in Muggleborns” he whispered.

“Why? Why target us?” You questioned, your heart rate picking up as you thought of the danger you may be in. 

“Enemies of the Heir? The chamber of secrets was opened by Salazar Slytherin all those years ago, and now that they’ve been opened, a warning to the heir of Slytherin has been sent by a message on a wall painted in blood. A true heir to the house would be a pure-blood, and who do most pure-blood Slytherins hate the most?” 

“Muggle-borns” you breathed out, realising that your identity was at risk.

“Muggle-borns” Jackson confirmed, “Who knows what you are?” 

“Umm…a few people” 

“A few?!” Jackson shouted in a whisper. 

“No Slytherins. Not even Astoria” you mentioned quickly.

“Ok. Keep it that way. And make sure the people that do know, don’t tell anyone” 

Your breath was shaky, but you nodded and joined Jackson in catching up with the rest of the group towards the common room.

“Got it” 

————————————

“Y/N!” You turned around at the sound of your name, seeing Harry, Ron and Hermione running towards you. 

“Guys, what’s wrong?” You asked, noticing the worry on their faces. 

“We need your help” Ron said, trying desperately to catch his breath. 

“We - well, Hermione - found information about the chamber of secrets. We need your help. We have to try and get more information” Harry explained. 

“Why do you need me?” You were confused at what they were trying to get to.

“We need you to get us into Slytherin” Harry asked quietly.

“That’s impossible” you laughed, “Why not just use your invisibility clock?” 

“Because we need to talk to Malfoy” Ron added, “We think he knows more than us” 

“Right…” you furrowed your eyebrows, “I don’t understand” 

“I’m making a polyjuice potion” Hermione spoke up, “I need the hairs of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy so that we are able to sneak in and talk to Malfoy as if we were his minions” 

“Hairs? That’s all it takes?” 

“Surprisingly, yes” she said. 

“Ok, I’ll help you” you nodded, “When do you want to do this?” 

“Well, we found out that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy are staying here over the Christmas holidays, and we will have more time to investigate it all when we have no lessons to worry about” 

“But that means-“ 

“Would you mind staying here for the holidays? We will be” Ron asked kindly. 

You hesitated for a minute, not really wanting to spend your Christmas at school, but when you saw the desperation in their eyes you sighed deeply. 

“Ok, I’ll stay. I’m not sure my parents will be happy, but I’ll stay. And I’ll help” 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. You’re the best” Harry smiled, the three of them turning around to head back to the common room.

You sighed, heading back to your own common room, “To the rescue once again, Y/N” 

——————————

“You seem to have developed a grudge against quidditch” you were interrupted from your reading in the courtyard by an all to familiar voice. 

“And what about it?” You asked, not looking up from your book. 

“I can’t remember the last time you attended a quidditch game…have you even gone to one?” 

“I can ask you the same question, Derek” you smirked, looking up finally. 

“What you reading there, bookworm?”

“A muggle book” you replied, “Lord of the Rings” 

“Lord of the Rings? Sounds…terrible” he chuckled, taking a seat next to you on the bench around the large oak tree. 

“It’s about little people called Hobbits. And Dwarves and Elves and battles and funnily enough, a sacred ring”

“And that interests you?” He asked, taking the book from you and looking at the cover. 

“My dad loves it” 

“How are you not a Ravenclaw” he commented, passing you back the book. 

“I’m not intelligent” you laughed, “I value fantasy and fiction…but lord knows I’m not that smart. I’ll leave that to Lydia and Allison” 

“You’re really just going to put yourself down like that, huh?” He asked after a moment of silence, looking at you sadly.

“It’s true” you shrugged, putting the book down, “Why you out here anyway?” 

“I tried to get into quidditch, I really did, but its just not my thing” he explained, “And, of course, Scott, Harry and Stiles are all on the team now so…it’s just me” 

“You don’t get on with the rest of the house?” You asked. 

“No, no I do…but…Seamus and Dean just stick together like glue, Ron and Hermione are studying and the rest are on the team. You, however, are always right here, so I know I have someone around”

“Right” you sighed happily, enjoying the sunshine.

“Why are you here then?” 

“I have no tolerance for Draco right now” you stated plainly, “The way he treated Hermione for being a muggle-born…it’s disgusting. If he ever found out about-“ 

“He won’t” Derek interrupted. 

“How do you know?” 

“Jackson…he’s managed to hide it from everyone in the house. He’s team captain of the quidditch team, he’s in the running for house prefect, he’s on elf the most popular kids in school, Y/N!” 

“Yeah, and if anyone else found out about it, all that will be taken away from him and he’ll be tormented until the day he dies. Some evil pure-bloods found out about him and he has the scars to prove it” 

“You’re kidding” 

“I wish” you sighed. 

“My uncle…” Derek hesitated, “My uncle Peter went that route” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He became a death eater. A follower of the most evil wizard in the world. The one that tried to kill Harry, but failed…” 

“Voldemort?” You whispered, having remembered Lydia telling you that saying his name aloud was frowned upon. 

“Yes. He’s the reason my parents separated” 

“I’m sorry” 

“Oh don’t be” Derek quickly dismissed your sympathy, “Our dad was…well not the nicest. He never approved of any of us or our mother” 

“Why’s that?” You asked. 

“Our mum is a nurse in the muggle world. Our dad always said it was the worst career she could go into because her magic abilities would risk our world being discovered by the muggles. Of course, there are the odd few, such as your parents, but they all swear their secrecy to the grave. As much as our father doesn’t necessarily hate muggles, he certainly thinks that magical folk are more superior” 

“Do you and him get on?” 

“No” Derek said breathily, “No, Scott and I have never been able to connect with our dad” 

“That’s…that’s devastating” 

“It’s alright. We’re close with our mum, which is great” 

You smiled sadly, letting a moment of silence pass by. 

“So…Scott and Allison, huh?” 

“Don’t. Start.” He jokingly warned, making you laugh along with him. 

“No seriously, what happened?” 

“They wrote each other, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY” he groaned, “I was cleaning up owl crap for the entire summer” 

“Nice” you nodded, grimacing at the thought of the scrubbing owl poop off windows and floors. 

“They met a lot during the summer and eventually got together, just before school. They’re still getting used to the whole ‘We’re in a relationship’ thing” 

“Well, at least they’re happy, especially with everything going on right now” 

“Yeah…speaking of, are you feeling alright? Safe and what-not?” He asked, a tone of concern laced in his voice. 

“Feeling alright? I guess so. Safe? I don’t know” you sighed, “I know I have all you guys to stand up for me and I know Jackson has my back, but…whoever or WHATEVER it is that is writing in blood and making these threats is clearly targeting muggle-borns…how can I feel completely safe when there’s something going around threatening us?” 

Derek looked at you seriously, but with sympathy, “Well, you know that as long as I’m here, nothing is going to happen to you” 

“Thank you, that means a lot to me” 

“Of course. You’re one of the best things about this place…god forbids something happens to you. My life would be boring!” 

“Oh, I’m glad that’s all I am to you” you chuckled, nudging him with your shoulder in jest. 

“Nah, you’re more than just entertainment” he smiled, “You’re one of my best friends” 

You smiled back at him, “Good, I’m glad” 

“Want to bet on who wins the quidditch match?” Derek changed the mood, aware it was getting too soppy for his liking. 

“What’s the stakes?” 

“Loser does the winner’s homework for a week” he smirked, holding his hand out. 

“You’re on” 

————————————

The entire second year were chattering away to themselves in the great hall around a long table, awaiting the start of a club introduced by Lockhart. 

“Y/N? You came?” Allison asked, having found her way next to you. 

“Astoria dragged me along” you pointed behind you, where the Lockhart Fan Club of Lydia, Hermione and Astoria were stood talking to each other, most probably about Lockhart himself, “Let me guess? Lydia?”

“Of course” she giggled, the two of you jumping slightly as Lockhart made himself known in the hall. 

“GATHER ROUND! Can everybody see me?” 

“Too much of you” you mumbled.

“Can everybody hear me?” 

“Unfortunately” Allison copied.

“Excellent” he smiled, “In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club to train you all up, incase you ever need to defend yourselves, as I have done many times. For further details, read my published works” 

Lockhart untied his robe and threw it into the crowd, the girls screaming when it flew in their direction, landing in the arms of a swooning Lydia. 

“I don’t get it” Stiles mumbled behind you, “Why are they so obsessed with this egotistical, arrogant, self-indulgent-“ 

“Let me introduce my assistant!” Lockhart proudly stated before pointing towards the doors, “Professor Snape” 

“He has kindly agreed to perform a short demonstration with me. Now, I don’t want to worry any of you youngsters, you’ll still have your potions master when I’m through with him” 

“But will we still have our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?” Stiles whispered, making the few students around him laugh. 

The two professors prepared themselves and walked to their starting positions. 

“On my count, Severus...one…two…three!” 

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Snape sent a large shockwave of light straight into Lockhart, sending him flying backwards and landing on the duelling table with a great thud, causing the room to erupt in laughter. 

“DUELLING CLUB IS GREAT!!” Stiles announced, cackling at the sight of Lockhart on the ground. 

You looked across the table to see Derek stood next to Scott and  laughing just as much as you, rolling his eyes in jest when he caught you looking at him. He mouthed over to you “Pathetic” which made you giggle quietly. 

“What the others see in that man” Allison chuckled. 

“Do you think he’s alright?” Hermione asked, concern in her voice. 

“Who cares?!” Ron said, hi-fiving Stiles next to him. 

“Did Snape just smile?” You pointed, seeing the smirk on the professor’s face as Lockhart groaned. 

“Rarer than a Phoenix” Lydia smiled, “But clearly not impossible” 

“Right! Let’s have a volunteer up to see how you students are doing!” Lockhart quickly suggested, “Ah, Miss Granger?” 

Hermione looked shocked, but gulped down her anxiety before smiling and getting up onto the duelling table. 

“Millicent Bullstrode” Snape called, gesturing her to come up to face only the smartest and most talented student in the year. 

“No chance” Harry whispered to you, “No one in this room could defeat Hermione” 

The two girls stood face to face, stepping back to their starting positions before each shouting their spells on Lockhart’s command. Hermione did exactly as Snape had done previously, knocking a shocked Millicent to the ground. You cheered with the rest of Gryffindor, placing your hand on her arm when she arrived back next to you. 

“Why you cheering her? Millicent lost” Astoria whispered. 

“She’s my friend. Millicent hates me…why wouldn’t I cheer Hermione?” You retorted. 

“Touche” 

“POTTER!” Lockhart called up, “And how about you Weasley?” 

“Weasley’s wand causes devastation with the simplest spells” Snape interrupted, much to Ron’s dismay, “We’ll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest...Malfoy?” 

“You have GOT to be kidding me” you groaned. 

Draco jumped onto the table, smirking at Harry. As he walked past where you were stood, Draco whispered down to you.

“I’ll win this duel for you, Y/N” 

You smiled forcefully until he looked away before cringing visibly. You looked up at Derek, who raised an eyebrow in confusion, making you shrug your shoulders. 

“Y/N, he’s doing this for you” Astoria sighed, “You’re so lucky” 

“The luckiest” you said monotonously.

“Scared Potter?” Draco teasingly asked. 

“You. Wish.” Harry scowled, before turning on his heel and walking to his starting position. 

“On the count of three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent. ONLY to disarm” Lockhart warned, “One. Two-“ 

“EVERTE STATUM!” Draco called, sending Harry flying back several feet. 

“CHEAT! CHEAT!” Stiles called, scowling at the laughing minions - Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy.

Harry got up determinedly, pointing his wand firmly at Draco, “RICTUSEMPRA!”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh when Draco landed on the ground after being flipped multiple times in the air. Snape grabbed his robes and hauled him up, pushing him towards Harry. 

“SERPENSORTIA!” Draco cast his next charm, a snake appearing from the end of his wand and landing in the middle of the table, causing the rest of the year to step away from the edges in fear. 

“How does he know that?” Allison asked. 

“He’s Draco Malfoy…any spell that includes a snake, he is sure to know” you grumbled, cursing him silently. 

The snake turned to a boy from Hufflepuff called Justin, a fellow muggle-born. It shocked everyone in the room when all of a sudden, Harry started speaking in a language that you couldn’t understand. 

“What is he doing?” You whispered. 

“He’s speaking Parseltongue” Astoria replied, her eyes fixed on the cursed snake aiming its way towards Justin. 

“What’s that?” You asked her, worried for Justin and for Harry.

“You don’t know?” She sounded shocked. 

“I-well-“ 

“He’s communicating with the snake” Astoria explained, not really questioning your lack of knowledge. 

“Vipera Evanesca” Snape pointed his wand calmly at the snake, causing it to disappear in a bunch of flames. 

“What are you playing at?” Justin asked, terrified and offended. 

“Students…you are dismissed” Lockhart said quietly, the great hall dissipating into a few students. 

You walked up to a very confused Harry, “Are you alright?” 

“I-I-“ he stuttered, before being interrupted by Snape. 

“Potter…a word” 

————————

“Derek!” You called, having spotted the raven haired boy walking down the corridor, “Derek wait!” 

“Y/N, is everything alright?” 

“Fine. Is Harry ok?” 

“He’s…he came into the common room and we all spoke to him. He told us that he didn’t even realise that he was speaking another language”

“How is that even possible?” 

“I don’t know, but I do know that he wasn’t trying to hurt Justin” Derek said quietly. 

“Of course he wasn’t” you agreed, “Harry wouldn’t hurt a fly. What was he even saying to it?” 

“He was telling it to leave Justin alone” Derek explained, “But that’s not the worst part. There’s a reason Slytherin’s symbol is a snake…Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth, according to Hermione, so everyone is going to believe that Harry is the heir to Slytherin” 

“Why would they jump to that conclusion?” 

“Parselmouths are related. It’s impossible to be able to have that talent without having a relation to one of the very first parselmouth” 

“Everyone’s going to think that he opened the chamber…that he wrote the message!” You cried, realising what this all meant, “He’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time” 

“We don’t know that for sure, Y/N” 

“No…no, Derek…that’s not Harry” you said plainly, your eyes catching Harry walking slowly the other way, “I’ll catch up with you later Derek” 

You rushed over to Harry, who looked like he was listening intently to something. 

“Harry” you called, surprising him, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes…yes I’m-“ he sighed, “No. I’m not. Everyone thinks I meant to hurt Justin and everyone thinks I’m evil and-“ 

“Harry, slow down!” You calmed him, “You didn’t. I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything in this castle” 

“Someone is trying to frame me” he said, “I’m just-“ 

“In the wrong place at the wrong time” you finished his sentence, trying to show your sympathy for him. 

Harry continued walking, clearly frustrated, “I wouldn’t hurt a muggle-born because of what they are. Two of my best-friends are muggle-borns! What makes them think I would target Justin alone and not you and Hermione?” 

“I don’t know, but there has to be a way to-oh my god” you stood still when you walked around the corridor to see Nearly Headless Nick just floating as if he were…dead? As if he was a statue. 

“What in the-“ 

“I don’t know…” Harry whispered, taking a few steps forward to observe the sight in front of him. You averted your eyes, your heart racing at the thought of an evil being in the castle grounds attacking muggle-borns. However, your gaze landed on the floor just ahead of Harry and Nick. 

“Uh…Harry?” 

“Y/N, I swear I-“ 

“Harry look” you pointed to where Justin was also on the floor, in the same state as Nearly Headless Nick - a complete statue. Harry crouched down to Justin’s level, stroking his pale, frozen body. 

“Caught in the act” Filch said as he appeared from around the opposite corner you and Harry had previously come around, “I’ll have you out this time, Potter. Mark my words” 

“Mr. Filch, Harry’s innocent!” You tried to reason with him, only for Filch to turn against you too. 

“Ah, an accomplice! I’ll make sure it is also seen to that you are removed from Hogwarts for good, missy” he snarled before walking away down the corridor. 

“Y/N, get out of here while you can” Harry insisted. 

“No way. You’re just as innocent as I am and I am not leaving until that is proven!” You demanded, your gaze flitting down to Harry’s feet, where a trail of spiders were crawling out the window. Harry’s eyes followed yours and he stepped back in surprise. 

“Spiders?” You asked. 

“I-“ Harry began, looking at the trail of spiders, before he was interrupted by Filch and McGonagall.  

“Oh my goodness…” McGonagall gasped. 

“Professor-“ you started, before Harry budged in. 

“Y/N has nothing to do with this. And I swear, I didn’t-“ 

“This is out of my hands, Potter” McGonagall said solemnly, “Come with me immediately” 

“Professor, he’s innocent! I was with him the whole time” 

“Miss Y/L/N, I don’t expect you to cover for him right now” 

“But I’m telling the truth!” 

“That’s enough” she scolded, “Head back to the dormitories immediately” 

“Professor, I am just as guilty as Harry is” 

“Very well” McGonagall said on an exhale of breath, “Follow me then, the both of you” 

“No, Professor, I insist that Y/N stays here. She had nothing to do with this…she was just-“ 

“In the wrong place at the wrong time, I assume?” McGonagall finished his sentence, “Well whatever the case, make up your minds now” 

“Y/N, please” Harry begged, “Go back to the dorms…” 

You reluctantly nodded your head and smiled slightly, seeing Harry try and smile back comfortingly, although you could see the fear in his eyes. 

“Now hurry back, Y/L/N, or I will have to put you in detention” McGonagall warned, ushering Harry away from the scene. 

“Yes, Professor”

————————————

You never did find out from Harry what happened the evening you and he were discovered by Filch, but you didn’t feel the need to question him further. Instead, you continued counting down the days until the Christmas holidays, when you would be able to help the trio get into Slytherin unnoticed. You snuck into the boys dormitories when everyone else was at lunch and tried to decide which beds belonged to Crabbe and to Goyle. After some time, you grabbed a hair from each of their pillows and headed to your own dormitory, where you picked a hair from Pansy’s blanket. You met the three Gryffindors in the girls bathroom, each wearing their Slytherin uniforms you had stolen from the supply closet in the common room. 

“You took your time” Ron moaned, holding a glass of vile looking potion. 

“Did you want the hairs or not? I had to wait for everyone to leave so I could sneak into the boys bedrooms” you said, handing the hairs to each of them. 

“Are you sure this isn’t Pansy’s?” Ron asked as he held the hair up to inspect it. 

“Would you stop whining and just get on with it?” You snarled, before realising that Ron wouldn’t do anything without confirmation it was NOT a girl’s hair, “Ron, her hair is longer and darker than the boys. Hermione definitely has it. Now just hurry up, Draco will be back from dinner shortly” 

The three added the hairs to their potions before clinking their glasses together. You stood back and watched them gulp down the disgusting liquids, their eyes soon opening wide. 

“I think I’m going to be sick” Ron said, dropping the glass and rushing to the nearest stall. Hermione soon followed. 

“Taste nice?” You asked Harry, who’s face was scrunching up at the disgusting taste. He was silent, so you stepped forward to make fun of him more when he suddenly dropped the glass and lurched forward, “Harry?” 

He looked down at his hand, noticing his hand bubble and change shape. 

“Ok” you stepped back, “That looks even more disgusting than the potion” 

You watched as Harry’s face suddenly transformed to Goyle, his smile creeping on his face when he realised that the potion had worked. 

“I look like-“ 

“You look like Goyle…” you whispered, hearing Ron’s stall open.

“BLOODY HELL! IT WORKED!” 

“Ron?” Harry seemed amazed. 

“Wait guys…” you stepped forward, “You both sound like yourselves…Draco’s not that stupid” 

“You need to sound more like Crabbe” Harry pointed out. As the boys were trying to get their voice acting up to scratch, you knocked on Hermione’s stall door. 

“I don’t think I’m going. You all go without me” she called from the stall.

“Hermione? Are you ok?” Harry asked.

“Just go! You’re wasting time!” She scolded them. 

“Come on, let’s go” you told the boys, heading back towards the common room. 

“Wait, what about Crabbe? And Goyle?” Ron asked as you headed out the bathroom. 

“I put a sleeping powder in a couple of cupcakes and left them on their desks earlier. They’re out cold” you said, cautious that prefects were wondering the castle corridors and would be on the lookout for any students out of bed. 

“Crabbe? Goyle? Where have you two been?” You heard Draco call from behind the three of you, “Y/N? What are you doing with…Goyle, are you wearing glasses?” 

“I was…reading” Harry lied. 

“Reading?” Draco questioned, “I didn’t know you could read” 

“Y/N was teaching us” Ron covered for you.

“Oh right…come along then” Draco motioned for you all to head back to the common room, where you all sat on the sofas by the fireplace. 

“Just before I bumped into you three, I was stopped by that Percy Weasley boy. You would never have guessed the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave” 

You took a sharp inhale of breath and flicked your eyes towards Ron, who was squinting at Draco in anger and confusion, almost silently daring him to continue. 

“An embarrassment to the wizarding world” Draco laughed, “All of them!”  

“Draco…” you sighed, silently asking him to stop. 

“What? It’s only true!” Draco argued, his attention drawn to Ron’s fist clenched, “What’s wrong with you, Crabbe?” 

Ron was silent for a moment before you cleared your throat, “Crabbe!” 

“Oh” Ron relaxed slightly, “Stomach ache” 

“You know, I’m surprised the Daily Prophet hasn’t done a report on all these attacks. I suppose Dumbledore is trying to hush it all up” Draco groaned as he kicked his legs up onto the sofa, making you rise to sit on the arm instead, “Father always said that Dumbledore is the worst thing that ever happened to this place” 

“You’re wrong!” Harry shouted, completely out of character, suddenly realising the mistake he made when you coughed and scowled at him. 

Draco angrily rose from the sofa, “WHAT? You think there’s someone hear worse than Dumbledore?” 

A moment of silence passed before Harry said his own name as a cover for his mistake. 

“You’re absolutely right, Goyle. Saint Potter” Draco spat angrily. 

“What has he ever done to you, Draco?” You asked, noticing Harry become uncomfortable with the situation. 

“What hasn’t he done?” Draco argued back, laughing slightly, “He thinks he is the world’s best wizard. The best thing that ever happened to this earth” 

“Well maybe he is” you shrugged. 

“You really think that?” He asked, almost offended by your words. 

“He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. He actually cares about people and his feelings, not just about himself” 

“What are you trying to say?” Draco asked as he sat himself back down on the leather. 

“I’m saying that maybe you can learn something from Saint Potter” you mocked the way Draco had previously said Harry’s name, not afraid to challenge him, unlike most people.

“What, the heir of Slytherin?” Draco laughed, “I can’t believe people really believe that. Him? The coward?” 

“Well then…” Harry spoke up, “You must have some idea as to who’s behind it all” 

“You know I don’t, Goyle…I told you yesterday” Draco started pacing round the common room, “How many times do I have to tell you?” 

“Sorry…just forgot I guess” Harry shrugged, looking towards you with all hope lost from his eyes. 

“Although, my father did say this” Draco added, “It’s been 50 years since the chamber was opened, he wouldn’t tell me who opened it…only that they were expelled. The last time it was opened, a mud blood died, so it’s only a matter of time before one of them is killed this time” 

Both Harry and Ron looked towards you, noticing your glare directed at the fireplace so that Draco wouldn’t see your reaction. You were terrified. 

“As for me” Draco smirked, “I hope it’s Granger” 

Ron launched up from the sofa to get at Draco, but Harry had to quickly stop him. 

“What’s the matter with you two?!” Draco cried, confusion all over his face. You had already had enough of this and also stormed away from the sofa. 

“Y/N? Where are you off to now?” He asked. 

“How many times do I have to ask you, Malfoy?! Why can’t you just leave her alone?!” 

“She’s a filthy mud blood!” 

“AND SO AM-“ you stopped yourself before you realised what you were going to say. You took a deep breath and glared at Draco, “Before you start going around chatting what is utter crap about people, I suggest you take a good look at yourself and realise that YOU, Draco, are the most disgusting thing you will find on this planet” 

Draco scowled, not wanting to argue and upset you further. You looked towards Harry and Ron for some back up, but your glare changed to worry when you saw Harry’s scar reappear. You tried to signal to him in time, and he managed to turn around and hide it from Draco before he realised. 

“Go” you whispered, Draco too busy talking to himself to hear you. 

The boys ran out of the common room and back towards the bathroom, Draco shouting after them, until it was just the two of you left in the common room. 

“Y/N, I’m-“ 

“Save it” you spat at him, before running after the boys. The three of you ended up in the bathroom, Harry and Ron both fully transformed back into their normal selves once again. 

“Hermione, come out, we have loads to tell you!” Harry called out. 

“Go away!” She called. 

Moaning Myrtle flew out from behind the cubicle door giggling, “Just wait until you see! It’s awful” 

“Hermione?” You asked pushing the door open to reveal Hermione looking in the corner. 

“Y/N, what pet does Pansy have?” 

“A cat…” you answered, “W-OH MY GOD! HERMIONE! I AM SO SORRY!” 

Hermione turned around and revealed her face, making both the boys laugh out loud. 

“Hermione” you sounded appalled, “I am so so sorry, I didn’t even realise” 

“Y/N, it’s ok…I promise” she smiled, “It is kind of funny…I mean…look at my face” 

Ron was giggling like a school girl, “LOOK AT YOUR TAIL!” 

————————————

February had approached quickly and Valentines Day had arrived at Hogwarts. The atmosphere in the castle grounds was tense due to the threats and attacks on students and ghosts and cats, so Lockhart decided that it would be a good idea to decorate the great hall with large pink flowers and falling confetti from the ceiling. He had hired several dwarves and dressed them as cupids to deliver valentines cards that he had collected from individuals the past week. 

You were sat with Astoria at the Slytherin table when a dwarf tugged at your robes, grumpily announcing that he had several cards for you in his possession. You thanked him and took the cards. One from Draco, obviously, including what appeared to be a sincere apology and he even bothered to sign with his name. The second one was from Stiles, as you and Stiles jokingly sent one to each other because you both agreed that Valentines was an over-rated holiday. You looked behind you after opening it and caught his eye, smiling and waving the card up in gratitude. He did the same with the card he had received from you, and you shared a laugh with each other. The last one wasn’t signed, and the handwriting was unrecognisable from everybody you knew. 

“A secret admirer?” Astoria asked, having looked at the last two you had opened. 

“I don’t recognise the handwriting…and the only person I know who has an obvious crush on me is Draco…so yes. Secret admirer” you laughed. 

Astoria squealed quietly, “Oh my gosh! We have to find out who it is!” 

“I haven’t a clue” you shook your head, putting the card back in the envelope. 

“Jackson?” She asked. 

“No…no way. Jackson hates the holiday…although, I sent him a card only because he told me that he had never had one before” 

“That’s sweet of you…were those the only two you sent?” 

“Yeah. What about you?” 

Astoria blushed, “Um…I actually sent one to Draco…” 

“You did?!” 

“Oh, tell the whole school why don’t you Y/N?!” 

“Sorry” you quieted down, realising you had caught the attention of loads of other students, “Why?” 

“I like him! Is it criminal to like him?” 

“No, no of course not…you can send cards to whoever you want, Tori” you reassured her, “You don’t need my approval” 

“Y/N, you’re my best friend…I am always going to need your approval” she chuckled. 

“Best friend?” 

“Of course!” She cried, “I think you know everything about me” 

“I’m honoured” you smiled. 

“I just don’t think I know everything about you…” she gave you a side glance and you knew that you had been caught out. 

“What do you want to know?” You sighed. 

“You’re not a pure-blood…are you?” She said as quiet as possible so that no one else could hear. 

“How did you guess?” 

“You’re clueless about everything!” She laughed, “I mean that in the nicest possible way. The thing that really did it was the parseltongue incident. The fact that you didn’t know what he was doing screamed that you weren’t really a pure-blood” 

“Ok, fine. Yes. I am…but I was told by someone else not to tell anyone because there would be consequences if the wrong people find out” 

“Who said that?” She asked. 

“That’s the most you’re getting out of me” you crossed your arms, “Sorry, but I can’t expose two muggle-borns in one day” 

“Alright, alright. They’re absolutely right, whoever it is. Your secret is safe with me. To the grave. And I promise that I will help you keep it that way” she smiled, taking your hand, “The world is dangerous for muggle-borns. Too dangerous. Especially right now” 

“I know” you sighed, “I’m terrified right now” 

“You’re safe. So many people here are going to keep you safe. I know that Draco doesn’t know-“ 

“And he can’t, Tori. I swear, he of all people CAN NOT know what I am” 

“And he won’t!” She said in a hushed tone, “Listen, I know Draco would do anything for you. If you say you’re scared, he will protect you. Just use him to your advantage” 

“That’s not ok, Astoria”

“We can’t lose you, Y/N…” 

“You’re not going to” you smiled reassuringly, “Not yet, at least” 

——————————

“Hey stranger” a voice came from behind you. 

“Hey, Derek” 

“Care for Magical Creatures, huh?” 

“I was inspired by that book I was reading last year. Plus, who wouldn’t want to do it?” You argued, smiling up at him. 

“Very fair point” he smiled, “Hand me the pen” 

“Welcome to the team” you laughed, stepping back to let him sign up to the class for next year. 

“Scott and Allison have signed up to it too, I see” Derek pointed at the sheet.

“Harry, Ron and Hermione too” 

“Oh, and would you look at that” Derek started to laugh, “Your boyfriend has signed up too” 

“My what now?” 

“Malfoy” he said as he pointed to Draco’s name. 

“Why can’t I escape him!” You cried out before laughing into Derek’s shoulder. 

You were soon interrupted by Professor McGonagall, “Miss Y/L/N, would you follow me please?” 

Derek put his hand on your back to push you forward, “I’ll see you later” 

You followed McGonagall to the hospital wing where you gasped upon seeing the frozen body of Hermione. 

“Oh my god” you whispered, rushing to her side and stroking her hair. 

“I’m going to alert Potter and Weasley…you have been dismissed from all lessons today, Y/N…I know this must come as a shock to you, especially since you are such close friends” 

“Thank you professor…” you whispered, taking a seat next to her. 

You don’t know how long you were sat there, but you were snapped back to reality when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

“How are you doing?” Lydia asked, squeezing your shoulders in comfort. You turned around to see Lydia, Harry, Ron, Stiles and Allison, all looking as equally sad. 

“I’m fine…just worried about her” 

“Y/N, I really think that you have to watch your back. That’s the third muggle-born that’s been attacked. Especially because you’re a Slytherin” Stiles added, speaking some sense for once. 

“She was found near the library, with this” McGonagall walked past you all, carrying what appeared to be a mirror, “Does this mean anything to any of you?” 

You all shook your heads solemnly, before you stop up from the chair, “I’m going to get some sleep…” 

“Are you going to be alright, Y/N?” Harry asked, smiling sadly when you nodded your head.

“Someone stay with her…please” you begged, Harry and Ron both grabbing a chair in a silent agreement that they would stay with Hermione until you came back. 

You sighed and whispered quietly, “Thank you” 

————————————

You were sat in the great hall trying desperately to focus on the homework in front of you, but instead, you couldn’t help but think about Hermione and all the attacks. You had heard that the young boy with an obsession with Harry, Colin, had also been petrified. Another muggle-born. You had noticed that Jackson was trying to keep a constant eye on you, terrified that something might happen to you. You took a deep breath and pushed your hair back out of your eyes. 

“Hey” 

“Hi, Derek” you sighed. 

“You doing alright?” 

“No” you said plainly, throwing the pen on the desk, “I’m absolutely terrified of being attack because of what I am, and if I am attacked then everyone will find out what I am, and if everyone finds out what I am then the same thing will happen to me as it did to Jackson and pure-bloods will come and hurt me and my parents. Not only that, but I am so worried about Hermione and Colin and now Harry, because everyone believes that he is the heir and that he is the one doing these attacks. Why would he want to hurt his best friends? Innocents? And just to top it all off, I don’t understand this homework!”

“Alright…alright” Derek said calmly, sitting down on the bench next to you, “I get you’re scared, but as long as I’m here, nothing is going to happen to you. I know you’re worried about Hermione but the medical wing are doing everything they can, and I can tell you right now that she will be fine. Lydia is going to help us all study in 10 minutes, because I think she is the only one that actually understands this impossible homework. And lastly, it’s not exactly your job to worry about Harry” 

“He’s my friend, Derek…and everyone sees him as this monster!” 

“He’s not a monster. You know that, I know that” Derek soothed you, “However…” 

“What?” You asked, noticing his hesitation to say what he was about to say. 

“I don’t want you getting hurt. I don’t want you, of all people, to get hurt. And if the rumours about Harry is true, then I can’t afford to lose you” 

“But they aren’t true” you said, “He’s innocent” 

“I know. I know, but just in case…I just don’t want you getting caught up in all this and getting hurt” 

“What are you saying, Derek?” 

“I want you to stay away from Harry” Derek said quietly. 

“You have got to be kidding me” you shook your head, laughing in anger. 

“Please, Y/N. For me” 

“For you? Why should I do anything for you, Derek?”

“I’m worried about you!” He stressed, aware he was attracting attention from other Slytherins. 

“Well don’t. I don’t need you to tell me what to do, if that’s what ‘worrying’ about someone means” you spat, closing your books and storming out of the great hall, back towards the common room. You huffed on the way past the sofas, making Jackson chuckle. 

“You ok, kiddo?” 

“Why are all you boys so controlling?”

“Are we?” He asked, “Well, I apologise on behalf of us boys…what happened?” 

“Derek wants me to stay away from Harry so that I don’t get attacked by whatever it is attacking muggle-borns…I mean, can you believe how ridiculous that sounds” 

“Yeah…real stupid” Jackson furrowed his eyebrows, “Although you could listen to him” 

“WHAT?” 

“He has a point Y/N! We’re in danger right now, and everything that’s happened has been linked to Potter in some way. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to just step away from trying to help someone that could potentially put you in harms way” 

“Harry would never do that” you reasoned, angry that Jackson was agreeing with Derek.

“I never said intentionally” he added, watching you sigh in frustration, “We’re just trying to protect you, Y/N” 

“I know” you said quietly, “You’re right. You’re both right…I’ll stay away” 

“Thank you, kiddo” he smiled, “Just until this all blows over, okay?” 

“Okay” you smiled back, “Well, Lydia is going to help me with this homework that has been stressing me out for the past week and a half, so I’ll see you at dinner” 

“See you at dinner” he said, going back to his newspaper. 

You grabbed your books and started to head out the common room before being stopped by Draco. 

“Hey, Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” 

“What is it, Draco? I need to get to the library” you said impatiently, still not wanting to give Draco the time of day for the way he spoke about Hermione the entire year. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt, what with all these attacks going on at school. It seems to all revolve around Potter, and I know you and him are friends…would you please, for me, just stay away from him? He’s a danger to the rest of the school, and I don’t want to see him lay a finger on a single hair of yours. Please, Y/N…” 

You smiled, realising the irony of the situation. You took a deep breath and thought it might be wise to humour Draco, just to make sure that your identity remained secret to him. 

“Ok. I’ll stay away from him. Just for you” you said patronisingly, although Draco didn’t notice, who instead just smiled happily at you.

“I knew you would come to your senses, Y/N”  

—————————————————

“Am I late?” You asked Lydia, who was sat alone finishing her extra studies in the library. 

“We finished about 2 minutes ago” she smiled sadly, “They’re all off doing their own homework now” 

“Dammit…I’m so sorry” you sighed. 

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m still happy to help you. Even Allison struggled with this and she is insanely smart” 

“Really?” You asked, surprised. 

“Yes, really. It took me at least 20 minutes to finish” Allison piped up opposite Lydia. 

“So, you’re happy to help me?” You asked. 

“Of course!” Lydia offered the seat next to her.

“So the first and second questions I managed to do, but I don’t understand what it means in the third question where it says-“ 

“What were you and Derek fighting about in the hall earlier?” Lydia interrupted you as you were explaining your struggles with the homework. 

“Huh?” 

“Your fight with Derek about half an hour ago…” 

“You heard that?” You blushed, looking between Allison and Lydia. 

“I think the entire hall heard it” Allison added. 

“That bad?” You groaned, “He was asking me to stay away from Harry because I’m in danger” 

“He’s worried that you’re going to be one of the next victims? Because of what you are?” Allison asked. 

“Married couple much?” Lydia laughed, stopping when you glared at her. 

“Do you think Harry is doing these attacks?” Allison began again. 

“No. No, of course not. I know he is completely innocent. When he was caught, I was there with him. I KNOW h is innocent” 

“Then why are you avoiding him?” Lydia asked you. 

“Because Derek asked me to, and then I told Jackson and he asked me to do the same…they’re just looking out for me, I know they are…but I don’t want to hurt Harry. I don’t want him to think that I’m avoiding him because I’m scared of him” 

“Harry will understand, maybe just talk to him once this all blows over” 

“What if it doesn’t?” You asked them, “What if this really is a large attack to end the line for all muggle-borns?” 

Neither of them could answer, instead they just looked sadly at you. 

“Hey guys, is there any room over here?” Stiles had appeared behind you and Lydia, “Derek  told me to go away” 

“Why didn’t you just talk back to him and say no?” Lydia asked, rolling her eyes. 

“Have you met Derek? He’s terrifying” he said, pointing to the group of Gryffindor boys, minus Harry and Ron who were no doubt doing some sort of investigation on the chamber. 

“Derek’s 13! How terrifying can he be?” You pointed out, shaking your head, “Yes, Stiles…there’s room” 

“Thanks” he smiled, sliding in next to Allison, “So what we studying?” 

“The argument Y/N and Derek got into earlier” Lydia caught him up. 

“Oh yeah! That sounded rough” 

“Did I really sound that angry?” 

“You sounded furious!” Stiles laughed.

“He was asking that I just stayed away from Harry…which I am” 

“Why?” Stiles asked. 

“We just went through all this! We’re not going to discuss it again” Lydia adamantly said before grabbing your book and talking through the first question. 

A moment of silence passed before Stiles leant towards you and whispered, “Y/N?”

“What?” You whispered back, trying to listen to Lydia explain the answer to each question. 

“Why are you avoiding Harry?” 

“I promised Derek and Jackson I would, because it’s then easier for them to protect me” you whispered, trying not to laugh at Stiles practically laying on the table. 

“Y/N, pay attention” Lydia snapped at you, going back to the homework. 

“Ok, but do they think that Harry is dangerous?” Stiles persisted. 

“Stiles, please” you sighed, trying to block all eye contact with him as you tried to focus on what Lydia was saying. 

“He’s innocent isn’t he?” 

“Stiles-“ you hissed. 

“Do YOU think that he’s dangerous?”

“Stiles” you started to get frustrated with him. 

“You know he’s innocent don’t you?” 

“STILES!” You shouted, making everyone within range look at you, “FOR GOD SAKE! STOP ASKING ME SO MANY QUESTIONS! I CAN’T THINK!” 

The room was silent and you looked around the library, suddenly feeling beyond embarrassed. You took your book from your Lydia and rose from your seat. 

“Y/N, I haven’t finished helping you yet” Lydia pointed out.

“I think I understand it now” you cleared your throat, turning around and meeting eyes with Derek, which made you lose your breath and blush, “I’m going to bed…I think I have a headache” 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Scott grabbed your wrist as you passed the group of Gryffindor boys. 

“Please…leave me alone, Scotty…I-I-“ you stuttered, suddenly rushing back to the common room, where you ran right into Jackson. 

“Woah! Woah, Y/N, hold on!” He held your sobbing form closely, “What happened” 

“My head is killing me” you cried, “Everything is piling on top of me and I feel so crushed under the pressure of trying to do my studies and trying to do my homework and trying to help Harry and Ron into the common room and-“ 

“You did what?” He mumbled. 

“Trying to get rid of Draco because he is constantly slobbering over me” you continued, still hiccuping as you cried into Jackson’s torso, “And did I mention that I’m absolutely terrified every single day because everyone knows what I am and it’s going to come after me, even if I do stay away from Harry” 

“Who knows about you?” He asked calmly, but a seriousness in his voice made you stop crying harshly. 

“Well…Harry, Ron, Hermione, Scott, Stiles, Allison, Lydia, Derek and…Astoria” 

“Astoria knows?”  He asked, pushing you away from the hug you were just in. 

“She saw right through me…but she told me she would never tell a soul if they didn’t need to know” 

“Is she the only one that knows?” 

“The only one” you sniffled. 

“Why are you so stressed, kiddo? You shouldn’t be crying about…well, about nothing” 

“Jackson, I’m crying because I’m scared” 

“You have no reason to be” he stroked your hair, “I’m going to protect you from anything that dare comes near you. I swear” 

“Ok” you sniffled. 

“Kid, you’re probably exhausted…hence the crying. You’re so tired that your emotions have probably shut down” he laughed, “Go to bed, for the love of Merlin” 

He looked down when he didn’t hear a response, still stroking your hair as he calmed you down, “Kid?…Y/N?...falling asleep standing up, huh? Now THATS a talent” 

Jackson laughed, swiftly picking you up and taking you up to your dorm, knocking on the door of the girls dormitories before heading in and placing you on your bed, completely out cold. He kissed your forehead before covering your body with the duvet. 

“Night, kiddo” 

——————————

“All students are to return to their dormitories at once” You heard McGonagall’s voice in the corridors. 

“What?” You mumbled, heading around the corner as quickly as possible before running to Harry and Ron, “Dammit” 

They were hidden behind a pillar, eavesdropping on a conversation the teachers were having while looking at another message written on blood on the wall. 

“What’s going on?” You whispered, making the boys jump.

“Another message…a girl’s been taken” Ron explained. 

“It took someone? Who?” 

“We don’t know” Harry looked at you momentarily, “But we have to stop this before someone gets killed” 

You stood with the boys, listening to the professors talk to Lockhart about his skills and abilities, and the idea that he will be able to take the monster down by himself. 

“Do we know which girl has been taken?” Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, asked McGonagall. 

“Yes” she sighed sadly, “Ginny Weasley” 

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. You looked at Ron, who’s mouth was wide open and his lips trembling. Placing a hand on his arm, you looked towards the message, which the three of you could finally read. 

“Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever” Harry read out loud. 

“Ginny…” Ron started to cry quietly, and you took his hand. 

“We’re going to save her, ok, Ron? She’s going to be ok” Harry whispered, walking towards the message. The two of you followed, still holding hands in an attempt to comfort each other. 

“Look…spiders” Harry pointed out. 

“Like the ones we saw the night we found Justin and Nearly Headless Nick…what does it mean?” 

“I think they want us to follow them” Harry said, analysing the spiders critically, “Let’s go”

“No” you said, dropping Ron’s hand, “I’m sorry, I can’t” 

“What? Why?” Ron asked. 

“I-I promised. Plus, this thing has gone after muggle-borns and-“ 

“Ginny isn’t a muggle-born, though. She’s a pure-blood” Harry argued. 

“But she’s connected to you. Maybe it’s not after muggle-borns” you realised, “It’s trying to bait you” 

“What do you mean?” 

“First of all, Justin. It was trying to get Justin to set you up, because of the way you spoke to the snake when it was trying to attack him. It knew everyone’s fears and used that to his advantage. Nearly Headless Nick just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and managed to get caught in the middle of the attack. Colin was petrified because as much as he is annoying, he idolises you as if you were his brother, and it knows that. It knew that despite your irritation with Colin, deep down you would protect him because of the way he sees you as a role model, which would motivate you to find it” 

“That does make sense…” Ron whispered, still trying to come to terms with the fact that his sister was in grave danger. 

“It targeted Hermione because she’s your best friend, but not only that, she was finding out too much information for you to use to your advantage when you eventually get down into the chamber. And Ginny? I’m sorry, Ron, but a first year is an easy target to lure into a chamber somehow. And not only that, Harry, but she’s not only got the biggest crush on you, but she’s your best friend’s sister. This monster KNOWS what it is doing, and it’s planning to trap you. I’m not saying you can’t go and rescue Ginny, but I just want you to be as careful as you can…this thing knows what it is doing” 

“You’re right” Harry nodded, “Which is why you can’t come with us” 

“I still don’t understand why she-“ 

“Ron, Y/N is one of my closest friends, and as a muggle-born, the risk of being attacked is automatically a lot worse than if she was any other type of witch…go back to the dorm, now. It’s not safe out here” 

“If it’s that dangerous, then she can’t go back on her own” Ron argued, his eyes still fixated on the spiders to make sure they came no where near him. 

“I can rush back” you sighed, “Please, just be careful you two” 

Harry smiled and gave you a quick hug, Ron smiling sadly at you before the two of them began to follow the trail of spiders. 

“Why spiders?” Ron whined, “Why couldn’t it be follow the butterflies?!” 

—————————————

Two nights later, the school had been saved by Harry and Ginny had been returned to her family. You were terrified ever since you left Harry and Ron chasing the spiders that night. You had heard from Ron that they had forced Lockhart, who was trying to escape the school, down into the chamber to help them so that he could use more advanced spells than the boys knew. Turned out that Lockhart knew nothing, and the boys confiscated his wand. Lockhart then stole Ron’s broken wand and managed to transfix himself into a state with amnesia. Ron stayed with a knocked out Lockhart while Harry went in and battled Tom Riddle, a previous student at Hogwarts who had opened the chamber and captured Ginny, and a giant snake called a Basilisk. Ginny was saved and Harry came out relatively unscathed, albeit with a few scars on his arms from the Basilisk. There was a large party in the Gryffindor common room the following afternoon, according to Stiles who would not stop going on about it, so you were shocked when you saw Harry sat alone, deep in thought, looking over the castle grounds.

“Why you sat out here? You should be celebrating” 

“I’m not in a partying mood” Harry smiled, shuffling over on the rock he was sat on to let you sit next to him. 

“I can’t believe you defeated it” you laughed quietly, “All by yourself” 

“Not the first time I’ve defeated Tom Riddle” he sighed. 

You looked at him confused, “I’m only just realising I know nothing about you” 

“That’s why I like you” he said, “I like the fact you’re friends with me, even though you don’t know anything about me” 

“Can I?” You asked, crossing your arms to preserve any warmth. 

“I live with my aunt, uncle and my cousin, Dudley. When I was a baby, the dark wizard, Voldemort, killed my parents and then he tried to kill me. He didn’t…that’s why I have this-“ 

“Your scar” you finished his sentence, your gaze moving up to admire the lightning bolt.

“My mother was a muggle-born, so my aunt and uncle aren’t magic, but they knew all about the wizarding world and despise everyone in it. They’ve always hated me and have never failed to make sure I know that every single day. They made me live in a cupboard under the stairs for years” 

“You’re kidding…that’s child abuse!” you cried, seeing Harry smile slightly at your outburst, “That’s why you love being here”

“Ever since, Voldemort has been wanting to kill me. Last year, with Quirrell? Voldemort had attached himself to Quirrell and he was living on the back of his head. He tried to kill me to get ahold of a ruby, called the Philosopher’s Stone. And now, he opened up the chamber of secrets and starting attacking anyone close to me, like you said. He won’t rest until I’m dead”

You looked at him for a moment of silence, “All that and you’re only 13…remind me, how have you not had a breakdown yet?” 

“Ohhh that’s definitely on the way” he laughed, “So what about you?” 

“Me?” You sounded shocked, “Well…I’m just your stereotypical muggle-born girl with stereotypical problems. There’s never much point delving deep into my past because its just your plain Jane life. The only exciting thing that has ever happened to me really was finding out I’m a witch” 

“Well, I’m just glad I have someone else who lives in the muggle world…I heard you were reading one of my favourite books” 

“I read a lot of books, so you’ll have to narrow it down for me” you laughed. 

“Lord of The Rings?” 

“Well at least someone here has taste in fiction!” 

The two of you laughed as the sun went down over the forbidden forest, a comfortable silence passed between you and Harry as you watched the day end peacefully. 

“I don’t blame you, you know” Harry finally spoke up. 

“What?” 

“For avoiding me. And not wanting to get any more involved than you already had” 

“You noticed?” 

“Of course I noticed, my friend didn’t talk to me for weeks! And the only time you did was the other night, when we all found out Ginny went missing” 

“I’m so sorry” you felt beyond guilty, “I was just doing as I was asked” 

“By who?” Harry questioned, suddenly curious as to who would tell you to avoid him.

“I-errr-I can’t disclose that information” you said with a smirk, falling into a fit of giggles when Harry pretended to be cross with you. 

“Listen, “ he said, “I’m not saying that I don’t want to be your friend, because trust me, I do…but I really think you’d be a lot safer if you did stay away from me when things go wrong and Voldemort tries to kill me next year” 

“I can’t just sit back and-“ 

“No, I mean it, Y/N. As a muggle-born AND my friend, you are at double the risk of being hurt by any evil wizard in this world. I have no doubt that anybody who wants to get at me will try and use my friends against me, and I know they’ll attack the muggle-borns. You and Hermione are at such danger around me” 

“We’re your friends. We’re not going to let another old wizard take us away from you” you smiled, nudging Harry with your shoulder, “I promise I will stand and fight with you every step of the way, until this Voldemort guy is gone once and for all, ok?” 

“Y/N, really, I-“ 

“And there’s nothing you can do about it!” You said, pretending to scold him, quickly getting up before Harry could say anymore. You stopped, however, when you realised that he wasn’t following you. 

“Come on, Harry…it’s dinner time in a couple of minutes. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving” 

Harry smiled and got up, jogging to catch up with you before you headed back to the great hall together for the first dinner of the year where you would both feel safe.

————————————

You had separated from Harry and sat next to Jackson on the Slytherin table in the great hall. You were chatting away to him and Astoria when Draco’s gaze was fixated on the entrance. You followed his gaze and saw a fully recovered Hermione, very much alive. She rushed towards Harry and Ron, who you saw jump up from their seats to give her a huge hug. 

“I’ll be right back” you said to the people around you quickly, rushing around Ravenclaw to where your best friend was. 

“Y/N!” She squealed, engulfing you in a large embrace. 

“Oh my god it’s good to have you back” you smiled, squeezing tightly and not wanting to let go. 

“Well done, you two…I can’t believe you solved it!” Hermione turned her attention onto Harry and Ron again. 

“Well, we had loads of help from you” Harry said humbly, Ron nodding excitedly next to him. 

“Can I have your attention please?” McGonagall announced, after tapping her glass multiple times. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, Hermione” you smiled widely, giving her another quick hug before rushing back round to your table. 

“Hermione’s back then?” Astoria asked happily. 

“Yes” you smiled, looking back over towards Gryffindor, “She’s back”

“In light of recent events,” Dumbledore said, “As a school treat, all exams have been cancelled!” 

The hall erupted into cheers, Draco’s being particularly loud opposite you. Jackson leant in to whisper in your ear, “All that stress for nothing, huh?” 

“Shut up, Jacky” you laughed, still clapping as you all celebrated the announcement. 

The hall went silent when Hagrid, stood at the doorway. 

“Oh dear lord” Draco whined. 

“What happened?” You asked Astoria, who just shrugged but kept staring. 

“He was sent to Azkaban, the Wizarding World’s prison, earlier this year…” Jackson explained, “Did you know he was expelled from Hogwarts because they thought that he opened the chamber the first time?” 

“You’re kidding” you sighed. 

“Azkaban took him in this year because he was accused of opening the chamber this time too…clearly, whoever it was that sent him there was wrong” Jackson explained, sending a glare Draco’s way as he finished his sentence. 

You sighed, “Draco?” 

“My father…I knew nothing about it until a few weeks ago” he said quietly, hiding his head in his hands. 

You shook your head in disappointment before turning around in your seat to look at Hagrid. He and Harry were deep in conversation before Harry launched himself into his torso. The rest of the students in the hall all cheered, including yourself, and ran towards Hagrid, celebrating his return. 

Draco, also to his disappointment, had been dragged into the crowd and he wound up standing next to you, “My father will hear about this” 

You scoffed, “I think he already has.

————————————————

“Y/N, this way!” Lydia called, ushering Prada into the compartment. 

“Hey Y/N” Allison patted the chair next to her, letting you sit down with all your bags. 

“Thanks” you smiled. 

Shortly after, you were joined by the rest of them, and the compartment was about to burst open with 9 students and a cat on two relatively small benches and all your bags. Regardless, it was a nice journey back as you all reminisced on the past year. 

“So, Derek…” Harry inquired, “I heard you told Y/N to stay away from me” 

The compartment fell silent, with Stiles sniggering in the corner. 

“Sorry, man…I just…” Derek started, before being interrupted by Harry.

“It’s fine, honestly. I would have done the same thing” 

“I heard they fired Lockhart…is that true?” Lydia asked, a sadness in her voice. 

“Hopefully” Allison laughed, winking at you. 

“He was the most pathetic wizard I have ever met” Ron cried, “I really think he might be a squib!” 

“A…squib?” You asked, causing laughter from the rest of the carriage. 

“A squib is a person who is born of two magical parents but has no magical abilities at all” Hermione explained over the laughter, noticing your blush as you began to feel embarrassed. 

“Speaking of…” Harry added, “When Ron and I were taken to McGonagall’s office at the start of the year, a letter fell out of Filch’s jacket from the school for Squibs!” 

“You’re kidding” Stiles gasped. 

“Oh come on, Stiles…anyone could see that Filch of all people doesn’t have an ounce of magic in him” Scott added.

“Bless him though” you said sympathetically, “he must feel so jealous of us” 

“Maybe that’s why he almost tried to kill Harry” Derek laughed, remembering when they found Mrs. Norris petrified. 

“Oh no, that’s just because he has a weird obsession with his cat” Lydia said, almost disgusted. 

Stiles snorted, “Look who’s talking!” 

An uproar started of arguments and laughter, and you sat in between them all, feeling very squashed and claustrophobic as everyone pointed and jeered and the bloody cat kept clawing at your legs. But despite all that, you realised that you were beyond lucky. You had found your family and you knew next year was going to be a lot better - the normal school experience at Hogwarts. Or, at least you could only hope. 

TAGS: @drunklili  @zenawa  @isaaclaheygurl  @insaneanddamnedgirl @rebex05 @osterfields-hollands @ahsprncwss

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 22

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

Stiles might not have much experience at being the center of attention at school, but Jackson and Lydia certainly do. They’re waiting in the parking lot, leaning against Jackson’s silver Porsche—if it was scratched on Friday night by Peter’s journey through the back roads of the Preserve, the damage has already been buffed and polished out—looking ridiculously attractive. Both of them.

“Hurry up, Stilinski,” Jackson says when Stiles pulls in nearby.

Jesus. What a dick. Except Stiles gets the feeling that it’s all pretty much an act now—it’s a fucking good act, he’ll give Jackson that. He’s totally committed to the role, for sure—so he slings his backpack over his shoulder and picks up his pace as he reaches them.

They both look like they’ve stepped off the front page of a glossy fashion magazine, whereas Stiles is pretty sure he has peanut butter on his shirt.

But they make room in between them like he belongs there, and stride toward the school like they expect there are cameras watching.

Are there classes or something? On how to be this attractive and intimidating? Weekly sessions in a secret undisclosed location, with a teaching staff made up of supermodels and disaffected beautiful people? Because Beacon Hills seems to have a lot of that going around, but Stiles never got sent the prospectus.

The crowds part for Jackson and Lydia like they’re celebrities. It’s weird. Everyone is looking and whispering, probably wondering if Stiles’s kidnapping makes him suddenly cool enough to be elevated into Lydia and Jackson’s social sphere, but nobody dares approach. It’s like Lydia and Jackson project a force field that the regular kids can’t penetrate. And Stiles would know. He was on the other side of it as recently as Friday.

They escort Stiles to his locker, and then to the door of his homeroom.

“You’re eating lunch with us today,” Jackson tells him with a haughty expression.

Stiles sees right past it.

“Okay,” he says. “And Jackson?”

Jackson cocks an eyebrow at him.

Lydia takes her compact out of her purse and inspects her perfectly applied lipstick.

“What you guys did the other night, both of you, was just…” He swallows. “But you got Stella away from her, Jackson, and like, I owe you. I owe you everything.”

Jackson flashes him a cocky smirk. “Whatever.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.  

Jackson lowers his voice. “Is she okay?”

Because heaven forbid anyone overhear him and realize he has a heart.

Lydia snaps her compact closed and slips it back inside her purse.

“Fuck you,” Stiles says warmly. “You pretend to be this total douche, I see through you now, you asshole.” He looks at Lydia. “I used to wonder what you saw in him, but I get it now. I get it.”

“Are you saying he’s your type?” she asks.

Jackson snorts. “I’m everyone’s type.”

He’s such an asshole.

Stiles loves him.

***

In Chemistry, Harris is still a total dick to Stiles, so some things never change.

In English, Allison looks totally shell-shocked and when she tries to look for a pen in her bag, she spills the contents all over the floor and Scott scrambles to help her pick them up.

Stiles wonders if she knows.

***

“She doesn’t know,” Lydia says at lunch, stabbing her salad delicately with a fork. “I talked to her yesterday. She’s buying the whole story about her aunt being a domestic terrorist.” She slips a piece of lettuce into her mouth and chews for a moment. “Scott should really tell her.”

Stiles laughs weakly. “Scott? Why would—”

“Don’t play dumb, Stilinski.” Jackson rolls his eyes. “Derek told us everything when we were burying his uncle.”

Right. Grave digging duty. It probably brings people together and stuff. Nothing like a bond formed over a shallow grave.

“Also, nobody gets that suddenly good at lacrosse,” Jackson mutters, like he’s still personally affronted by that most of all. “Not when they were so freaking lame to start with.”

They’re sitting alone at the popular table. Scott keeps casting Stiles worried looks from where he’s sitting with Allison, but as far as Stiles is concerned he has werewolf shit to discuss with Jackson and Lydia, and if Allison’s not in the loop then it’s not their place to bring her in. That’s on Scott. Also, her crazy hunter aunt tried to kill him and his family on Friday night, and he’s still processing that. He really doesn’t have the capacity to deal with her inevitable shock at any werewolf reveal in addition to that.

“Anyway, she doesn’t know,” Lydia says. “And Mr. Argent says that his father is coming to town for Kate’s funeral, and he’s apparently just as crazy as Kate was, which is the reason Allison’s parents don’t want her to know anything about hunters, and werewolves, or anything that could drastically lower her life expectancy.”

Wow. Apparently while Stiles was reading Batman and watching TV over the weekend, Lydia was on a fact-finding mission at the Argents’ house. Also, that explains Dad’s phone call from Chris Argent last night.

Lydia catches his look and shrugs. “You’re not the only one who likes to get the complete picture.”

Jackson helps himself to one of Stiles’s tator tots. “How’s Derek?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says. “I mean, he just lost his last family member. How do you think?”

Jackson and Lydia exchange a look.

“What?” Stiles asks. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Lydia says airily. “So is Derek staying with you?”

“Yeah.” Stiles feels like he’s been sidelined somehow.

“Good.” Lydia clasps her hands together. “We’ll come and visit him after school.”

“Wait, what?” A part of Stiles’s brain snags on the idea of Lydia Martin in his house, and he shakes his head to untangle himself. “Why?”

“Because Gerard Argent, Allison’s grandfather, is very likely going to have Derek in his sights when he comes to town,” Lydia says, explaining it like he’s slow. “And an Alpha needs betas to be strong. At least two, preferably more.”

Stiles squints at her. “How do you know all this in two days?”

Jackson snorts. “Guess you’re not the smartest person in the room for once, Stilinski. Now you know how the rest of us feel all the time.”

Lydia flashes Jackson a warm smile, and turns back to Stiles. “I told you, I did my research.”

“So what?” Stiles asks. “You’re still chasing the bite, Jackson?”

Jackson reaches for an apple and takes a bite. “So what if I am?”

“Even after the other night? You saw what hunters do.”

“This time I’m not chasing it,” Jackson says. “But I’m volunteering. An Alpha needs a pack.”

Stiles fights down the sudden rush of jealousy that wants to tell Jackson that the Stilinskis make a fine pack, thanks very much. Because it’s not exactly true, is it? Derek has the Stilinskis, and they could be a family for him—last night Derek folded laundry and sorted Dad’s socks, and it doesn’t get more family than that—but maybe Jackson’s right. Because Derek is an Alpha now. Maybe an Alpha needs more than a family. Stiles isn’t a werewolf. He can’t know the difference between family and pack, but he should know better than to assume there is none. Maybe an Alpha does need a pack, and there must be times where the meanings of the words overlap—he thinks of Derek’s story about Peter kidnapping the Hale kids for a Disneyland trip—but it’s possible they’re not an exact synonym.

And maybe Jackson isn’t being selfish. Maybe he’s not looking at what the bite can give him, but at what he can give Derek instead.

Stiles remembers in third grade when Jackson had a meltdown in class over one of those dumb family tree projects, and that’s how everyone found out he was adopted. Maybe, for Jackson, family was never quite what he needed to be. Maybe he thinks pack will give him something that he still feels he’s missing.

“Okay,” he says. “I mean, there’s no harm in offering, is there? If you know the risks.”

“I do.” Jackson crunches down on his apple.

Stiles glances at Lydia. “You said betas? Are you volunteering as well?”

Lydia huffs. “God, no. Trust me, that’s not even an option.”

“Because Scott’s no fan of Derek’s,” Stiles says. “Like, at all.”

“We know,” Jackson says, and rolls his eyes. “McCall is a dick.”

Stiles bristles out of habit. “Takes one to know one.”

Lydia elbows Jackson before he can retaliate. “We’re working on it, Stiles.”

Working on it? What does that even mean? Does she have an alphabetized list of potential beta candidates lined up or something? Will they have to submit résumés? Will there be interviews?

He’s just about to open his mouth to ask when he becomes aware of someone approaching in his periphery. He turns his head to see Allison standing by the table, her eyes red-rimmed and her hands clenched at her sides.

“Stiles?” she asks in a fragile voice.

“Oh. Um, hey, Allison.”

He’s aware that the entire cafeteria has stopped to watch this exchange, and wonders if they’re expecting fireworks.

Allison draws in an audibly shaky breath. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for what happened to you, and your father and Stella. And I understand if you don’t ever want to talk to me again, but—”

“Oh, hey!” Stiles pushes his chair back so quickly that he almost overbalances, and leaps to his feet. “No, Allison. I mean, she was your aunt, but you didn’t know. I’m not going to hold it against you just because she was, well, crazy pants.”

Allison’s brow creases.

Okay, so that wasn’t the best way to phrase things. Stiles tries to regroup. “Anyway, if I was going to judge you on your relatives, okay your aunt tried to kill us, but your dad came through, so that totally evens things out, right? Math for the win!”

Lydia groans, and Jackson winces, but Allison only tilts her head and stares at Stiles blankly for a moment.

“Oh god,” Stiles says. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Allison blinks, and tears brim in her eyes, but at the same time her mouth twitches and a small, strangled noise escapes her. It might even be a laugh? “So we’re good, you and me?”

“Totally,” Stiles promises.

She shows him a tentative smile. “Thank you, Stiles.”

And then she darts forward and hugs him quickly before turning away and going back to sit with Scott.

No fireworks in the cafeteria today.

Stiles sits back down, shooting an accusatory look at Jackson when he sees his diminished amount of tater tots.

Jackson smirks. “Hey, I’m carb loading for lacrosse. What’s your excuse?”

“My excuse is I paid for those!”

Jackson shrugs.

“Asshole,” Stiles mutters.

Jackson’s smirk grows.

Lydia rolls her eyes, but she at least shoves her salad in Stiles’s direction so he doesn’t starve to death.

[redbrickisaac]

Author’s Note: This is my attempt to get myself out of my teen wolf writing slump and also my submission for @sumcp ‘s Writing Challenge. 

Prompt: “It’s okay, you don’t have to love me.”

Pairing: Isaac x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: angst, curses, near-death experience, cheesiness

Word Count: >1K 

Musical Inspiration: “Earned It” - The Weeknd

  It’s spring when you notice it.

The pack is different than it used to be. It’s not just a bunch of scraggly teenagers forced to group together for the sake of survival anymore. There are cliques within your clique, pairings. Erica with Boyd, Liam with Hayden, Mason with Corey. There’s not one but two love triangles going on. One between Stiles, Lydia, and Derek and the other containing Scott, Allison, and Kira. Even Theo and Malia have a strange sexual tension that seems like it’s leading somewhere. The only people who aren’t paired up seem to be you and Isaac.

He notices you noticing and he takes a long, contented look at the group with a serene tilt to his lips. This is his family, the only one he has anymore and he seems unbothered by the pairings. His gaze returns to you and he smiles.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to love me.”

He says it as a joke.

You smile and look away. At the time, you don’t expect those words to come back to haunt you.

*

It’s summer when things change again.

A massive heatwave hits Beacon Hills causing temperatures to spike and tempers to flare. Theo and Malia finally fall into each other after an explosive argument in front of the whole group. Their tension culminating in something passion-fueled and hungry. You knew it was inevitable but somehow, it still surprises you.

The pack spends a lot of time at the pool Stiles and Lydia talked Derek into behind his newly rebuilt house in the Preserve. The pack’s house now. You suspect he could have held out against Stiles alone, but no one says no to Lydia, especially if she’s got them by the dick (which she decidedly does).

Lounging by the pool would be a lot more comfortable if there weren’t so much exposed skin. So many lingering touches as packmates pass each other. And there you are alone on your deck chair. You try to swallow your envy but it’s not as easy as you wish it was.

“Hey.” A shadow falls over you and you lift your sunglasses to see Isaac looking down at you, something tense about his expression. “Wanna swim with me?”

You could say no and keep wallowing in your self-pity, or you could accept his offer and allow yourself to have a little fun. “Sure.”

You follow him to the pool and splash in beside him. He spends the next couple of hours entertaining you.

Later, at night, when the rest of the pack slips into each other’s rooms, you know it’s still just a distraction when Isaac shows up at your door. He looks at you without expectation and you open your door wider, inviting him inside.

When he kisses you, it helps you forget how alone you are. When he touches you, it helps you feel something besides cold desperation. And when you pull back, worried that you can’t do this, can’t use him this way, he licks his lips and promises that ‘it’s okay, you don’t have to love me’.

You search his gaze as he waits for you to decide, to figure out if you want this. You don’t just want it, you need it, need him. So you kiss him and then just… don’t stop.

*

There are flowers blooming on the ground again when the Fae attack the Preserve. They like their curses, the Fae, and they hit half the pack with a killing curse before the rest of you run them off. It’s slowly draining the life from the affected members of the pack and Kira is nearly lost before Stiles’ research reveals how traditional Fae magic is and well, every story starts with a kernel of truth apparently. Even fairytales it seems. It turns out ‘true love’s kiss’ is actually a plausible cure for a curse if it’s brought on by Fae magic. Luckily, everyone in the pack has someone to kiss them to put a stop to their curse. Everyone, that is, except Isaac.

He lies on the couch while the whole pack stares at the two of you. They know you’ve been sleeping together for a while now, but they don’t know the promise Isaac made. The one he still makes now when he grips your hand weakly and tells you, voice cracked and dying, that ‘it’s okay, you don’t have to love me’.

Tears fall from your eyes because every time he said those words, you heard ‘I don’t want you to love me’. And you thought that maybe it was because he could never love you back. It’s only as he’s dying, letting you off the hook for not loving him, that you realize, maybe he thought he wasn’t worth loving either.  

You lean in slowly and press your lips to his, a dry, chaste little thing that still manages to convey the depth of your feelings. Because it brings the color back to his cheeks, the breath back to his lungs. He stares at you in wonder as he slowly regains his strength.

“You love me?” He asks as though he can’t believe it.

“It’s okay,” you say with a watery sigh. “You don’t have to love me.”

“I do,” he confesses, gathering you in his arms. “God, I love you,” he breathes out like it’s a relief to finally say it.

It’s a relief to hear it.

He holds you for the rest of the night, gazing at you with all the love he possesses and you wonder how you missed it for so long.

It’s the way he’s always looked at you. Right from the start.

[madjor99]

Mistakes and Regrets

Author: madjor99 Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader / Scott McCall x Reader Warnings: Lots and lots of angsts, character death, some cussing. Word Count: 3,810 A/N: Okay so this is the first thing I’ve written for Tumblr, so I’m sorry in advance for this mess. This is for Summer’s Writing Challenge (aka @sumcp​.) My prompt was “You look happier with him.” I’ve always wanted to write stuff and post it on here, so this is my first shot at it, hopefully people like this and I can post more. This also hasn’t really been edited for grammar. This follows the show until the very end where I changed it up a bit.

Growing up I only had two worries in life. They came in the form of my two best friends. Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. Somehow, they always managed to get themselves into trouble, and inevitably dragged me along with them. When we were younger it was mostly harmless fun, but when we entered high school things got more complicated. Supernaturally complicated. First it was Scott getting bit. Then it was Peter. Then Jackson being a kanima. The list went on and on. It never seemed to stop. Somewhere in this whole mess of Supernatural shit, Stiles and I became closer. I don’t really know when or how it happened, but I guess as the two humans with no discernable skills or talents we were drawn to each other. It wasn’t passionate or crazy, it was comforting and safe. We made each other happy. Eventually I fell in love with the spastic boy I called my boyfriend. Until, something happened that would change our relationship forever.

“Please stop,” I choked out, tears soaking my face, “please just let me go. You don’t need me.” “He’s screaming in here you know,” Stiles responded dragging his fingers down my face, “begging me to stop hurting you.” it wasn’t actually your boyfriend talking to you though, it was a demon with Stiles face. His grip on my neck only tightened. “Before I let you go were going to play one more game.” “Please no,” I whimpered, “no more.” “Don’t worry. It’s not really a game, more of a revelation. My final way of getting into that pretty little head of yours.” He leaned in close and began to speak into my ear, “I can hear all of his thoughts you know. Even ones he’s had in the past. My favorites have been about his relationships and who he cares for. You’re his girlfriend so of course he cares for you, but not like he cares for that red head.” For a moment I hesitated in my struggling. “Don’t get me wrong, he cares for you, but the thoughts he has about Lydia.” He tsked, “Who know Stiles was so dirty.” “Shut up.” I muttered under my breath. “What? You don’t want to know about how Stiles imagines pressing Lydia’s cute little ass up against a wall and absolutely ravishing her? How he’d bend her over a desk and-” “Stop! You’re lying!” I shouted, then quieter I muttered, “you’re lying. He never liked Lydia, he lied about liking her to hide his feelings for me. He told me!” The false Stiles stepped away from me, allowing me to crumple to the ground. I could see the victory on his face, he had gotten to me. “Oh, Stiles is that what he told you?” With Stiles face he laughed at me. “Oh (Y/N), you’re such a fool. You were his SECOND CHOICE! Don’t you see? He chose you because you were there. You were safe, you made him feel good about himself. But Lydia, oh the things she does to him. Lydia is his passion. You’ll never make him feel like that. You may make love to him, but you’ll always be second best thing.” And with that he left. Still laughing. That’s how they found me. Leaning against the lockers a blank look etched onto my face. Scott ran up to me, “(Y/N) thank god.’ He pulled me into his arms. “I thought we lost you.” He pulled back a bit. “(Y/N) what happened?” I just stared of into space, a dead look on my face. “(Y/N) are you okay, what’s wrong.” Scott held my face. “What did he do to you?” Tears began to well up in my eyes again, and Scott panicked. “(Y/N) talk to me!” Allison looked at me then whispered to Scott, “She’s been though a lot let’s just get her home, we’ll talk once she’s slept.” Scott paused, but only for a moment, “You’re right.” With that, Scott scooped me into his arms and carried me home.

I stayed in my room after that. I didn’t want another encounter with Stiles, real or fake. I tried to process what the nogitsune had told me. I tried to tell myself he was lying, but deep down I knew, he wasn’t. I think a part of me had always known. I just never wanted to accept it. Eventually Scott came to over, he told me how they saved Stiles by separating him from the nogitsune then giving the nogitsune the bite. “(Y/N) there’s one more thing.” he muttered. Scott had a look in his eyes, that scared me because I had never seen so much pain in Scotts eyes before, he was always so strong. I knew in that moment that someone had died, and there was only one person who could cause him to look as though his soul had been shattered. “No,” I could see the tears in his eyes, the absolute pain and suffering he was experiencing. “She can’t be,” tears began to well in my eyes. “An Oni, he- he-” I pulled him into my arms. Allison had died, he didn’t need to say anymore. We wept together for hours. We fell asleep on my couch holding each other, mourning the loss of a beautiful soul.

The next morning, I pulled myself out of Scotts arms and went to get myself a glass of water. I was still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. Allison was gone. Dead. Killed because of the nogitsune. I didn’t want to believe what he had told me about Stiles, trying to come up with excuse after excuse, but deep down I knew. I think I had always know. It was the truth. I felt the pain in my chest grow, my legs no longer supporting me, I collapsed to the ground. Choked sobs escaping my lips. “(Y/N) …” My entire body tensed up. I slowly stood up, trying to regain my composure. “How did you get in here.” I whispered. “Scott let me in.” He paused. I refused to look at him. I refused to look at the broken look I knew was on his face. I couldn’t help but for a brief moment blame him for Allison’s death. “(Y/N) we should talk.” I felt his hand brush mine. “Don’t touch me!” I screeched, slapping his hand away from mine. “Don’t you dare touch me.” I glared finally looking at him. He looked like shit, still pale, hair a mess. But there was no doubt it was Stiles. My Stiles. The broken look that I knew was he was going to have, gave that away. “(Y/N) I know you’re upset but-” he stared. “But what? What could you possibly know? Do you have any idea what I went through?” Stiles looked down. “He kept me prisoner for WEEKS. Taunting me, using me as bait.” I began to cry again, “touching me. Torturing me. I thought it couldn’t get any worse. And right before he lets me go, he tells me you still have feelings for Lydia!” I began to pull at my hair. “I’ve been trying and trying to get it out of my head, but I can’t.” “You have to know he was lying.” he tried to reach for me again, but I stepped away. “(Y/N)” “I’m not an idiot Stiles. The nogitsune was a trickster, he loved to deceive and cause strife. But never did he lie. He twisted the truth. So, no, I don’t think he was lying. I think you chose me because I was there, and I wanted you. I think every time we slept together you were imagining me with red hair and not (y/h/c)” I tried to take a deep breath. “I can’t even look at you.” Neither of us said anything, I knew I was being irrational, I knew I was being dramatic. I didn’t care. A sick little part of me wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. Even though it wasn’t actually Stiles. I heard him take in a deep breath, “(Y/N). I love you. I love you so much.” For a moment I thought I had misheard him. In the months we had been together, we had never said the “L” word. I had wanted too, but I never had the guts. My fears getting in the way. I felt my chest begin to tighten. “How dare you. How dare you stand here and say you love me, Stiles.” He opened his mouth to speak. “Get out.” He made no move to leave. “Get out!” I grabbed my hair. “Get out, get out, get out!” Scott ran into the kitchen, “What’s going on?” Stiles tried to grab my hands for a second time, “I said don’t touch me!” I shoved Stiles away from me, causing him to fall to the ground. Everything began to go fuzzy, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was any more. For a moment, I was back with the nogitsune. Curling myself into a ball I slowly began to mutter, “let me go, please let me go. Please, please. I’m sorry.” Scott ran over to me, “(Y/N) okay, you’re in your house. You’re safe.” He began to run his fingers through my hair, and slowly I came back to reality. Scott looked at Stiles, “I think you should go.” “Scott-” “Stiles. Go.” Stiles began to leave but paused at the kitchen doorway. “When she has a panic attack you have to-” “Brush her hair. Stiles. I. Know. Now go home. I’ll call you later.” He hesitated, but finally. He left. As soon as I heard the front door slam all the flight left my body and I collapsed into Scotts arms. He picked me up, carried me up the stairs and into my room. He placed me into the bed, on my side and pulled the covers over me. He then got my brush and began to brush my hair out onto my pillow. After a while I was nodding off, I felt him get up and put the brush away. He began to leave my room, when I called his name softly. “Scott?” He turned around. “Stay.” I could see the hesitation on his face. “Please. I can’t be alone right now.” He took a deep breath and nodded, “okay.” Scott pulled back the covers and crawled into bed. I turned over and he pulled me into his chest. For the second time I fell asleep in my best friend’s arms.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD. That’s what Ms. Morrell said I had. “You were help captive, for weeks, by a monster with your boyfriend’s face. He did unspeakable things to you,” I absent mindedly rubbed one of the many scars that littered my body, thanks to the nogitsune. “This is going to be a long recovery. You’re going to need your best friends.” “Friend.” I muttered. “Excuse me?” ‘I only have one best friend.” I looked up from my hands, “His name is Scott McCall.” It was true. Stiles was no longer part of my life. I just felt numb about the entire situation. Scott and I on the other hand had become extremely close. He was consistently there for me, taking me to and from school, helping me with all the work I had missed, and helping me deal with my increasing amount of panic attacks. I felt as though I was getting better bit by bit. Soon though Scott and the pack had to go to Mexico to try and find Derek. Scott had asked me to come, but I told him I wanted nothing to do with the pack right now, as I would be more of a liability than a help. With the pack gone, so was my entire support system. So, I spiraled. I stopped going to school and therapy and I took up drinking. It was the only thing that successfully helped me forget for a while. One day I was drinking and dancing around my house just in a t-shirt and underwear. I had a large, half empty bottle of vodka, in my hand. I had woken up screaming, because I had a nightmare about the nogitsune coming into my room and taking me again. So instead of dealing with the fear coursing through my veins, I decide to get a drink. That was at 4am. It was noon now. I felt great, I felt free. No more fear, no more sadness, just numb nothingness. I was in the middle of dancing to whatever song was playing, when the music cut off. “What the fuck?” I stopped in my dancing. When I looked over, I saw Scott holding my phone. An angry look on his face. “I have been calling you all morning, and this is what you’ve been doing?” I rolled my eyes, “Lighten up Scotty,” I took a drink, wincing at the familiar burn or the alcohol making its way down my throat, “have a drink. Relax.” “Are you drunk right now?” He asked. “Me? Drunk? Nooooo?” Putting the cap back on the bottle, I began to walk away. “(Y/N) give me the vodka.” Scott began to walk towards me. “Noooooo! I don’t wanna.” I danced away from him, giggling. “(Y/N),” he practically growled at me. “Stop running away from me please. I’ve had a long day.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “if you want the bottle you’re gonna have to catch me.” I ran up the stairs and into my room. I heard him sigh and begin to follow me. Because he wasn’t running or trying I made it to my room before he did. I shut my door and got under the covers giggling. I could hear the door slowly creek open, and another giggle slipped past my lips. “I wonder where (Y/N) is?” Scott made his way across the room. I could hear him approach the bed. I waited for him to find me, but after a moment nothing happened, so I slowly pulled the covers back and saw Scotts face hovering over mine. “Gotcha.” I squealed and tried to pull the covers back over my head, but Scott pulled them off me and began to tickle my sides. “Scott stop!!” He persisted in his tickling torture. “You know I hate being tickled. He paused, “are you gonna stop drinking?” I began to pout and hug the bottle to my chest. “Why do I have too.” “Because you don’t need to be drinking this early in the morning (Y/N).” He grabbed the bottle. “Scott no.” I tried to pull the bottle back, but he had supernatural strength, so he pulled it away from me. Suddenly I felt all the negative feelings I had been trying to drink away flood back.

“Give it back.” I began to hit Scotts chest, “Give it back. You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do.” “(Y/N).” ‘Not when you left too. You left me and went to Mexico.” I was hitting his chest harder and faster. “You left me when I needed you most. I hate you. Leave me alone, just go!”

Scott grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. Flashing his red eyes at me he growled out, “(Y/N). Stop. Now.” Instead of flinching away from him, or feeling fear, I felt warmth flow throughout my body. Scott took a deep breath and stepped away. “You are drunk and sad. I’m going to take this bottle away and you are going to go to bed. When you wake up we are going to have a serious talk.” He began to leave. “You’re right. I am drunk,” he paused, “but I’m not sad. I’m not happy, I’m not scared. I’m just angry. I haven’t been able to feel anything but nothing or anger in weeks,” I took a deep breath, “please help me.” “(Y/N) …” I stood up and took off my shirt, “Scott please help me feel something else.” I could see him take a sharp breath. He rubbed his face and walked over to me. Scott stood in front of me just looking me in the eyes. I stared up at him. He took my face, gently, in his hands, and my eyes slowly closed. Until I felt his lips on his forehead. Slowly I felt my entire body flush, my eyes slowly peeled open. “You’re drunk (Y/N).” He picked my shirt up off the ground. “Arms up.” I lifted my arms up, and he began to put my shirt on, “I’m not going to take advantage of you in this state.” Once my shirt was back on, Scott pulled back my covers and I climbed into bed. Scott kissed my forehead again and began to run his fingers through my hair. “You’re going to go to bed, and I’m going to go downstairs. Once you wake up, we’ll talk.” I nodded my head. Scott got up walked out, once he shut my door I muttered, “thank you.” I knew Scott heard me. I felt myself fall asleep, thinking about how lucky I was.

Over time Scott and I became closer, we had never made anything official and we never did anything more than cuddling, but still, something was there. I was nervous about having anything serious or physical after Stiles, and Scott had just lost Allison. We were healing each other. It was nice. I was getting better, going to therapy, and school. Scott was great with taking me to and from places. He’d come over to my house and help me with homework or we’d just talk. It was peaceful. But it seems that life wanted me to suffer, because yet again I found myself in the hands of a crazy villain. Some crazy guy named Theo. He kept going on about Dread Doctors and chimera. I was tied to a pole, watching some girl named Hayden get injected with drug after drug. I knew that was going to be me. I would fade in and out of consciousness, never knowing how much time had passed. Finally, I woke up on the table. “This is going to hurt, I was hoping you’d still be asleep for this part, but too late now.” My head snapped towards Theo bringing the needles and tubes towards my arms. And I screamed. No words. Just high-pitched terror screams. I screamed, even when I ran out of breath. I screamed until Theo put his hand over my mouth. “Stop screaming, you’ll do that once I put the drug in.” I begged him with my eyes to stop. Before he could remove his hand, the doors flew open. The pack ran in, and I nearly cried in relief. Theo pulled me off of the table holding his claws to my throat. “No one move.” Stiles stepped forward. “Theo, I swear to god. Let her go.” We locked eyes, but only for a moment, until Scott stepped forward. “(Y/N) are you okay?” I nodded my head, “good.” His eyes shifted to Theo, “give her to me, and you can walk out of here. No one will stop you. But you have to give her to me.” Stiles head snapped to Scott. “What!?” “No one will stop me from leaving?” Theo asked. Scott nodded, “No one. I give you my word. Theo didn’t hesitate, he pushed me onto the ground and while people were rushing me, he ran out. The first one to me was Stiles, he pulled me up off the ground. Once I was standing I ripped myself out of his arms and ran straight into Scotts. Scott grabbed my head and began inspecting my face, “are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he give you anything? I shook my head and placed my hands over his. “No, I’m okay. I’m okay.” Scott pulled me into his arms and I melted into his embrace, “Thank god. I was so scared.” “I’m glad you’re okay (Y/N).” I looked over at Stiles. His face was soft, and eyes caring. For a moment I saw him as the boy I fell in love with, and not the monster I remembered. I sent him a small smile, “thank you Stiles.” For a moment I wasn’t scared of Stiles, and I thought that eventually, with time, we could repair our friendship. Then I blinked. And there was a giant needle sticking out of Stiles chest. It was like everything was in slow motion. The needle pulled out of his chest. Blood fell out of Stiles mouth, just like the movies. Stiles collapsed onto the ground. I could hear screaming. It was me I was screaming. Scott and the rest of the pack ran over and began to fight the Dread Doctors. I felt myself run over to Stiles. I put my hands over Stiles chest. “Oh god. Oh god. Stiles. There’s so much blood, I don’t know what to do.” I could see Stiles trying to speak. “Don’t speak Stiles, you’re gonna be fine. You haven’t even heard about my brief stint at alcoholism. It sucked.”

Stiles shakily reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. He then proceeded to wipe the tears off my face. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. He was saying something, so I put my head closer to his mouth. “(Y/FN) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) I have loved you since they day I laid my eyes on you.” He coughed out. “Stiles don’t tell me this now, save your strength.” I sobbed out. “Just let me say this.” He took a shaky breath, “I love you, but I’m letting you go. I’ve seen you with Scott.” His hand grasped mine. “You’ll always be my first love Stiles, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I couldn’t forgive you.” I squeezed his hand back. “You look happier with him.” He coughed up more blood, “don’t ever let him go (Y/N). Don’t make my mistake.” He took another pained breath, then closed his eyes. “Stiles. Stiles. Stiles wake up! You have to stay awake!” I began to shake him. “STILES. WAKE UP.” I felt someone grab my shoulders and try to pull me away, I tried to shove them off me, but they were stronger. Began to hit the persons chest. They caught my arms, and I could hear them calling my name. “He has to stay awake. He has too.” “(Y/N)!” My eyes snapped to Scotts, there were tears running down his cheeks. “He’s gone.” I shook my head. not accepting it. “No. No no no!” Scott pulled me into his arms and together we cried.

I only had two worries in life. My two best friends. Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall. One faithful day was all it took for my problems were cut in half, far too soon. And replaced with mistakes and regrets.

[argentarium]

kara sevda (4) ↠ stilinski

author ; fessa

rating ; 18+ nsfw

pairing ; fuckboy!stiles X oc!reader

word count ; 1987

warnings ; angst?? , i cant even tell you this time idk how i feel about this part, i feel like this is trash except the dream scene but oh well

a/n ; wait… did you guys really think i wasn’t going to post another part? well you were wrong.. don’t ever judge a book by it’s cover  

i. ii. iii. -

*not my gif*

kara sevda

/noun/

1. blinding love;

literally translates as “black love”

   The blaring noise of his alarm clock caused the spastic boy to jerk awake from his recurring dream. As he sat up, he clutched his head in his hand, wiping up the cold sweat, thinking of the details and trying to remember if anything changed.

Your voice echoed through his ears as a light giggle caused him to sit up in his bed. His room was no longer the same; everything was pure white: the walls, his blankets, his pillows, and even his clothes. Stiles was naturally inquisitive and, as curious as his white-washed bedroom was, he could not help but follow the sweet, soft and inviting sound of your laughter.

   Slowly, the familiar giggle began to die down, but he could not let go of your voice. He felt compelled to pursue it, not wanting the precious noise that was your laughter to leave his ears. Stiles rushed to his door and swung it open, revealing not his hallway but a golden light, shimmering in his eyes. He held up his hand, blocking out some of the rays, but his eyes still squinted as he began walking a few steps and found himself inside a grand meadow of beautiful, blooming, blue jasmine.

Your melodic laughter made contact with his ears again, and the instinct to find you overtook him again. He scanned the meadow until he laid his eyes upon you. You were across the field, decorating a young lamb with flowers, nurturing the small creature with your gentle touch. Stiles, however, was not just watching your actions, he was gazing at you with awe. He found himself entranced with the way your head fell back, laughing more when the lamb nibbled at you as your natural hair reflected the warm light. All the bright hues of azure contrasted with your long, ivory dress – which Stiles worried would get dirty from the grass – and he was truly able to see you happy.

   You never looked like this before and never in his life had he seen you look so beautiful. Stiles had never seen your hair down before and he had never seen you calm either, it was always homework, quizzes, and tests which always had to not just be passed, but absolutely aced.

“Stiles!” He heard you call out, causing him to snap out of his trance. “Stiles! Come help me add more flowers!” He saw you flashing a kind and warm smile towards him. Stiles could not and would not say no for anything in the world. Nothing was going to stop him from being with you now that he finally saw you, for what you really were: radiating beauty, inside and out.

   Once he finally reached you, he watched you stand up and brush off a bit of debris that had caught on your dress. You leaned back down and   picked a flower out of the earth next to you. You held it out, delicately brushing the petals out before looking up at him. “I picked this one just for you. It’s the most beautiful one here, don’t you think?” You said softly, holding it out for him. “You deserve the best, Stiles. Here.” Stiles did not have to think twice about taking the flower.

As soon as he went to grasp the flower, however, something else happened. The flower disappeared and a wooden stake appeared to be tightly held in his hand, already have impaled your chest. Stiles’s eyes widened in disbelief, “No, no, Y/N, I swear I didn’t-”

   “Why did you do this to me, Stiles?” You sobbed between coughing spurts of blood. “What have you done?” Stiles looked between you and the lamb, which was quickly dying too. The harmless creature looked as if it was stabbed along with you as it laid on its side with a large gash in its stomach. From the lamb’s stomach oozed something other than blood but some type of black substance. Stiles looked from the lamb back to you in shock and horror.

You were hunched over, tear stains all over your face, your throat burning from the coughing up of the metallic liquid on your tongue. Your pure white dress was no longer pure, nor was the beautiful field. It was now a dark, inhabitable area with bats flying around, bothering the corpse of the lamb. Stiles lurched forward suddenly, seeing as you were about to topple over. He caught you in his arms and held you, letting your head rest on his knees as he caressed your face. “No, no, no, stay with me Min, stay with me..” Stiles began to cry. Your breaths became weaker, and more blood spurted out of your mouth involuntarily. “No! Don’t do this Y/N, don’t-”

   “Rise and shine, kid, it’s time to go to school.” Noah announced resting on the doorframe, knocking on the door, coffee in hand. “I’m heading down to the station, make sure to be on time for school.”

   Lifting up his head, Stiles flashed a flat smile to his dad, waving the sheriff off. Stiles sighed, pushing himself off of his bed and picking up a few shirts lying around his room, sniffing them until he came across one which did not reek lacrosse as much as the others.

Stiles’s days were dark, ever since his mistake he had been spiraling. He promised himself he would not have sex with you because if he did, he would know that everything would be ruined. He reminded himself day by day to not even try anything on you since you were the only girl who was truly in his life considering that Lydia barely acknowledged him and Allison did not count.

It wasn’t like he was desperate but he knew he couldn’t get a girl to stay. It didn’t take him so long to make himself a sex legend in the school, but that was all he had because other than that he was just a nerdy kid, the bench warmer, and the slowest runner on the lacrosse team. He couldn’t impress any girl with his spastic, know-it-all personality enough to make them stay.

With this being said, if Stiles couldn’t just entice one of the many girls he has been with, how was he ever going to make you stay?

What seemed like a headstrong, cocky, egotistical high school fuckboy was all a lie but he was an insecure boy with attachment issues. Stiles believed one way or another, no matter what you did to even protest, you would leave him for what he did to you

He simply stopped the inevitable from happening by just ripping off the bandaid now. The pain lasts for a moment before you don’t even remember why it hurt.. but why was he still hurting?

Dwelling on the thought made him want to try to get you back. And Stiles wanted you to be his best friend but he broke a promise to himself, doing the unthinkable to you. You were a piece of artwork, only to gaze at, not to touch.

Stiles felt no different than anytime else. School hadn’t changed, coach hadn’t changed, and he simply was stuck in this stagnant point where he was so fixated on being indifferent.

Stiles was walking out of chemistry when he noticed something did not feel right. He noticed you were not in class like how he noticed every single time you were absent otherwise yet he still forced his toxic self to stay away from you. As he was treading along the hallways of Beacon Hills High School, he noticed the janitor rummaging through your locker.

Somehow, the mere act of invasion sparked something in the teenager which was not present in his system for weeks. A mild fury rushed over him as his facial features contorted to fit this slightest bit of emotion he finally revealed.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Stiles jabbed at the worker. “You can’t just go through someone’s stuff, that’s invasion of privacy!”

The janitor sighed boredly, turning to the overzealous boy. “I’m just doing my job, kid.” He shrugged, pulling out pieces of papers and dropping them in the trashcan next to him.

“Well, she’s going to come back and see all her stuff has disappeared!” Stiles hissed, placing his hands on his hips as he waited for the janitor to stop his actions.

“How would she know if it disappeared if she does not go to this school anymore?” The janitor sassed at Stiles, rolling his eyes as he tugged a random picture off of locker door and let it fall in the trash.

Stiles’s eyes softened, his head slightly tilting, “What?” He whispered in a faint tone.

“Listen, kid,” The janitor began as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, showing off what looked like a list of chores, “Whoever this is left the school,” he pointed to the specific point on the list, “and this whole thing has everything I need to finish today so if you could just get to class, my life would be much easier.”

Stiles was in the midst of shock as he stared at the middle-aged man. He did not expect you to leave Beacon Hills, let alone not even mention it. Then again, Stiles remembered everything he said to you and instantly regretted it.

“Uh.. Why don’t you just do whatever’s next on your list, I can finish this for you.” Stiles offered, his eyes locking on the picture the janitor set in the trash bin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in-“

“Great! So by the time you’re back this will be all cleaned out!” Stiles faked his eagerness as he pushed in the way of the janitor and began to take out loads of papers, which created more of a mess.

The janitor put his hands up in surrender, “Alright, kid, have at it.” He sighed, walking away. “Weird…” he muttered under his breath and Stiles snapped his head towards him and glared at the back of the man’s head.

Stiles soon forgot about the janitor and reached in the trashcan, pulling out the photo strip from a photobooth you two created a memory at. Stiles reminisced on that day, he remembered going ice skating with Lydia, Allison, and Scott, having a blast spending time with his crush until Lydia had some sort of episode. He knew he had to take you with him one day and he did, and he admit to himself he had a much better time with you.

It was a continuous cycle, a picture or a pen, even a piece of paper with writing triggered a memory of when he was still your best friend. He stood there the whole class period, not caring if he skipped or what the consequences were. All the bottled up emotions were seeping through and he did not want to make it stop.

As soon as the bell rang, Scott came walking out of his class and walked down the halls to his next class. He wanted to see his best friend again, to see how he was doing or if he was any better today than the other days. As Scott was nearing his next class he saw Stiles against a vacant locker, staring at something in his hands.

Scott walked up to Stiles to see what he was up to. Once Scott got closer he was able to notice the glossiness in Stiles’s eyes and feel his sorrow while he took a look at the strip of pictures.

Scott was eventually going to tell Stiles about your leave but he was beat to it. He looked between the motionless Stiles and the picture before clearing his throat, “Hey.” He said simply, waiting for Stiles to yell at him for not saying anything to him.

Stiles quietly turned to Scott, his eyes teary, “I messed up.”

tags :) ; @squirels-angels-and-moose @were-cheetah-stiles @shameless-danni @danopeg @aestheticallytrashysunflower @lcnelykth @rememberstilinski @wydobrien @amethystmerm4id @charmedjeri @itskatiemahoney @leilaelizabth @pufflethehuff @parislight @unfoxs @infinitydunbar @ellie-bee242 @iknowisoundcrazy @mieczzyslaw @gluetwentyfourobrien @xqueenarianax @danielisnotonbranding @iknowisoundcrazy @surpeme-bean @maddie110201 @danny-the-coolest @stilinski-lover-24 @vogue-sweetie @stilinski-stydia-obrien @codysdimples @awkwarddly @xmadwonderland @oneshot-obsessed

and an amazing special thank you & dedication to cat ( @were-cheetah-stiles ) because without her, i wouldnt have made it through in terms of writing this part

[halekingsourwolf]

1/3 I saw this post again about someone only knowing Teen Wolf from gif sets who thought that Scott wouldn't survive the pilot and it got me thinking: What would've happened if Scott *hadn't* survived the bite? Just in season 1 alone? Would Peter've bitten anyone else (he tried half on s1 to connect with his beta but seeing his beta die would that have encouraged or discouraged him)? Would Stiles've still sided with the wolfs (he would've felt guilty for Scott & maybe looking into hunting (hint,

hint) what attacked his best friend)? Would Allison (without Scott, Kate would’ve brought her into the fold & she wouldn’t have had any evidence that wolfs *are* people)? Would Jackson’ve been tempted (no Scott, no rival Lacrosse Captain, he still would’ve been attacked in the video store but would he’ve sought out Derek)? Would Derek’ve died from wolfsbane (no Scott, no Stiles?, no bullet) or would he’ve hurt Deaton (then again no Scott, no Night School, no one howling for the alpha)? How different would season 1 (& 2 & 3 etc) have been? What are your head cannons?

Oh I love thinking about this –– one single detail changing everything that comes after it. I’m going to preface this theorizing by saying that I don’t remember all the details on s1; it’s been a long time since I watched so I might veer off in the wrong direction at any point. That said, here goes.

Scott’s turning is the trigger for a lot of the early events in the series, and his death would change pretty much everything about the characters’ dynamics, relationships, and alliances. If Scott were dying in a hospital bed after the Wolf Moon, I’ll bet that Stiles would be right by his side that day, meaning that he wouldn’t run into Derek in the woods, in search of his friend’s inhaler. That said, Scott would have an animal bite on his hip, and would probably tell Stiles that a wolf bit him as he lay dying, and that, combined with the full moon and the other animal attacks/dead bodies around town, would probably still lead Stiles toward the truth.

A werewolf bit his friend. A werewolf killed his friend.

And you can be sure that a guilty, bitter, raging Stiles would latch onto that knowledge and decide to do something about it.

Stiles probably wouldn’t run into Allison at this point. Would have no reason to connect to her, no reason to really even notice her. She’s just the new girl in school and he has a hell of a lot bigger things to think about, like his dead friend, like the supernatural threat apparently running through the preserve killing innocent teenagers.

That said, I can absolutely picture Chris Argent visiting Stiles after Scott’s death. Maybe even in the hospital. (I put Scott in the hospital and not dying at home because Melissa.) He slinks up all grim and mysterious and asks Stiles if he’d been out there in the woods too –– what he saw, whether there was anything unusual. And when Stiles snarks back –– and Stiles would inevitably snark back –– he’d probably make some vague comment about bringing the thing that killed Stiles’ friend to justice before slipping away again.

And this might even be what helps Stiles connect those final dots.

So Stiles would take to the woods. Which… maybe not the smartest plan, but something out there fucking killed Scott and Stiles isn’t in the mood for smart right now. He’s in the mood for payback. When he runs into Derek he nearly takes his head off with a baseball bat and then he’s just kind of reeling because Derek Hale, survivor of the Hale fire is randomly hanging around the preserve six years after anyone in town’s seen him.

Hanging around the preserve where Scott (and another person) were killed.

Hanging around the preserve where an actual legit werewolf might be living.

Would those dots take too long to connect?

The thing is, though, grief recognizes grief and I think that a Stiles who’d just lost Scott might not be so quick to dismiss Derek’s bad attitude as he’d been in the show. And Derek, in the state that he’s in throughout s1, would be a lot more likely to open up to someone on a vendetta of revenge and grief than a couple of kids who seem more concerned with sports and dating.

So whether it happens right then or later, it would happen –– Stiles realizing what Derek is. Lashing out or bolting. Derek catching his bat on a desperate swing, chasing him (chasing the secondhand scent of gunpowder and Argent) slamming Stiles back against a tree and and Stiles screaming “My best friend is dead” and Derek snarling back “so’s my sister.”

And then for a few seconds they’d just… stare. Recognizing that grief, that loss, that hopeless rage, in each other’s wrecked expressions. And after a long second Derek would just… fall back. Give up his hold on Stiles, let the ugly weight of the losses settle between them. And Stiles would know… not really knowing how, but he’d know, that Derek wasn’t responsible for Scott.

But would Stiles go back to Argent? Would he approach Allison then, after hearing her last name in class and connecting those dots, would he make friends to try and find out what she knows? Or would he just seek out Chris Argent and demand information, demand weapons, demand whatever the hell it takes to take down this werewolf threat or else he’ll just go public to the Sheriff with what he knows and he’s pretty sure Van Helsing here wouldn’t love that.

So Argent agrees, on these terms: he trains Stiles.

It’s a good compromise, actually. Gerard’s been pushing for the next generation to start getting brought in on the family business and Chris really just wants to keep Allison out of it. Keep her safe, keep her happy in her ignorance. Is it so wrong to want a normal life for his daughter? And Stiles isn’t an Argent, and Chris isn’t sure he’d even want this kid carrying on his family legacy, but if it slows things down, lets Allison get through high school at least without having to face down the horrors he grew up with… he’ll take it. He’ll use this boy who’s already willing to fight and die for the cause and keep his daughter safe.

(Of course, this won’t work for long. Allison’s not oblivious and she’ll notice her family’s strange behavior. Notice Stiles dropping by a strange number of times… and his sudden “internship at Argent Arms International” –– her dad’s never taken on sixteen year old interns before… or any interns –– doesn’t completely explain it. So eventually, despite her dad’s best efforts, Allison will still realize her family business.)

–Jumping off the continuity track for a bit, with Scott gone and Jackson’s place on the lacrosse team assured, he wouldn’t feel any particular need to seek out new skills, strength, or the supernatural at all. So his involvement in the main arc would only come through Lydia (through Allison) or, if you’re with me on this one, once Peter takes interest in him, recognizing him as his son.

I also (and this is where my not having watched the season in so long might come into play) don’t particularly think Peter would bite anyone else if Scott died, because I generally feel like Peter biting Scott was just a case of Scott being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw a kid wandering through the woods –– the moon was full, his wolf was howling, those wacky CGI deer had sprinted away, and he figured why not? Peter wasn’t really focused on building a pack in s1. He had a lot of opportunities to bite other people, to make a whole pack, and he didn’t take them. He liked the idea of Scott being his beta, and having help getting his revenge, once he already had him, but I think his priority was really just killing the people involved in the Hale arson and Scott was just a bonus. If Scott didn’t take –– or if Scott hadn’t been in the woods that night –– I don’t think Peter would have gone for anyone else.

Back onto the main plot, though, with Stiles on the hunter track, his tentative truce with Derek would become very interesting. He wouldn’t tell Argent about knowing Derek, but the next time he runs into Derek –– fucking bleeding out in the school parking lot in front of his Jeep because Stiles and that few-second bond of loss is still the only connection Derek has in this town –– I think Stiles’ secrets would come out to him. He’d mention the wolfsbane and of course Stiles knows what wolfsbane is, how it works, where to get some, and he’d leave Derek in the safety of his bedroom probably while he flits to the Argents’ and gets himself a bullet to help bring him back. He figures Kate probably thought what Stiles did at first –– a local werewolf, must be the feral Alpha –– stupid mistake but it’s not like Derek exactly gives off the warm, cuddly vibes… but once Derek’s recovered enough to realize what had happened, where Stiles had gone and how he’d gotten that bullet, what would he do? Grit teeth, clam up? Push Stiles into the nearest shadowed space and snarl that the Argents can’t be trusted, they’re killers until Stiles snorts, snaps back a blithe “Oh yeah, and what are you?”

And Derek would pull back, looking wounded for a heartbeat before walling off, and Stiles would almost want to take the words back but he’d lift his chin stubbornly instead because these guys are helping him learn to fight, ok? They’re helping him learn how to take down Scott’s killer and yeah it sucks that Derek caught a bullet but everyone’s on red alert right now and it was a fucking shitty mistake.

And Derek would hold his gaze, steady and cold, say “your father’s Sheriff Stilinski, right? Look into the Hale fire. Visit the hospital’s long term care center. See what your new friends call justice.”

And of course Stiles does. He looks into the records. He sees that everything in the police files scream arson. And he can’t connect Chris Argent and his stern code with the mentions of children’s corpses, but the more he gets to know Kate the more he can see that in her. And I think he would start to question the Argents at that point, start questioning his alliances and everything he thinks he knows.

And that’s as far as I’m going to go with this headcanon for the moment, because it’s getting incredibly long already. But I really adore this canon divergent concept, with it starting as a tragedy/revenge story and Stiles being pulled in on the hunters’ side of things at first, and I think so much could be done with it.