#the fainting at the blood picking scene??? if you thought i made derek pick stiles up like edward did you thought right mhmm

[hedwig221b]

a snippet of my sterek twilight au as a treat for all of you 🖤🐺🫀

Stiles was glad to see Derek waiting for him. They walked out of the class together, though Derek caught his sleeve soon after and led him to the side of the hall. He waited as the students passed them before speaking.

“I wanted to ask you. About the spring dance…”

Stiles�� heart skipped a beat at those words. He tried to remain cool and unaffected but Derek grinned either way.

“I heard you were going to Seattle,” he finished.

Stiles blinked at him, hoping the warmth didn’t show on his cheeks. “Uh, yeah?”

“I was wondering if I could drive you.”

Stiles stared at him. “Huh?”

“Do you want a drive to Seattle?”

“W-with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

This… was kind of sudden. Last week they didn’t talk at all, and now Derek was offering him… a ride? Alone in the car for two fucking hours with Derek fucking Hale? Who was, by the way, smiling again?

“My car works fine,” Stiles blurted and immediately cursed himself. Why the fuck did he just say that? Why?!

But Derek only smirked. “I saw you wrapping tape around the wires last Thursday. If you think it’ll survive the drive to Seattle, you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“So… you were looking at me.”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other.

Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way Derek’s eyes lightened. His whole face, so handsome yet so grim before, was nothing but soft now. Relaxed.

It couldn’t mean anything except one thing. It really was about Stiles — his gloom and glare, his dark circles and lack of appetite at lunch. There was no denying it. All of Stiles’ doubts paled before the sharp glint of the evidence.

Whatever tension was between them, it only grew each time they spoke. They both knew it, felt it, thick, viscous, and sweet like honey. It left them wanting more.

Standing still in the buzzing corridor, they let the noise wash over them. Both came to a silent conclusion that they would not be able to stay apart. They tried, and look what it led to. None of them wanted to resist the pull.

Stiles pursed his lips in a smile. Derek’s glance slipped to his mouth and back before he, too, huffed out a laugh.

“Can I drive you to Seattle?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Stiles said quietly and watched the grin bloom on Derek’s lips.

He forgot the last time he felt this light.

[divider link]

[cordyce]

ok i finished it. what the fuck

movie spoiler talk below

i want to preface this by saying my favorite part of the whole movie was just jackson being there. seriously. he was the best part of it for me (not a huge surprise, i'm a biiiiiggg jackson fan)

genuinely i was not expecting much from this movie or jeff davis (gags) and. yeah. the movie was pretty much what i was expecting LMAO. bringing allison back was.. interesting..... i won't lie, i really liked allison in the og series (she was one of my fave characters in the first seasons), but for some reason her coming back just pissed me off. not to mention the whole scott feeling awkward around malia still but ALSO still somehow being in love w allison?....odd behavior. but i say all that to say that we all knew it was going to be allison. it was ALWAYS going to be allison for scott. so i'm not surprised in the slightest lol

another thing that peeved me was us not seeing more of the pack members who were there (i am not even mentioning stiles bc. i imagine we all feel the same way about HIS absence in this movie. so). like we BARELY saw any of liam or mason or the sheriff besides them being tied up like wtf. and i am also Not Happy that theo wasn't in this movie. missed my babygirl fr :/ whatever. additionally i could've done without seeing clear shots of malia's and jordan's asses but i digress.

(and i would just like to say that they need to free my man jordan parrish from the clutches of these beacon hills girls man. he deserves better lmao.)

and i'm gonna say what we're all thinking forthright. eli looks like stiles' fucking twin bro. like what the fuck. you cannot tell me that was not intentional. his obsession w the jeep? his "sucking" at lacrosse until he was needed to pick up the slack for his team? him fainting at the sight of transformation (blood, in stiles' case)? bitch. they knew what they were doing. they literally copied stiles' blue print and made him a werewolf. not complaining tho, i think it's kinda cute

also pissed off about the fact the reason they had lydia leave styles was because of a premonition bc like. let's be so fucking for real here that is so out of character for both lydia AND stiles. lydia? who runs into fights head on to scream her lungs out for her friends? who refuses to let herself succumb to true fear because she is stronger than that? not hardly. and stiles, who has been pining over lydia since freshman year? who has sacrificed his life and sanity to protect her and go to the ends of the earth to get her and love her? as if he would just let her walk out? please. that was lazy writing lol

i will say if i'm completely honest i like the scene where the rooms matched the colors of derek's, scott's, and eli's eyes during the final illusion. i think that choice was so cool and aesthetically pleasing. and that scene in general was just good to me. but killing derek off? lmao. i have a bone to pick but, that's that

and finally, derek fixing stiles' jeep is so gay. i'm sorry but the amount of times he complained through the series about that shitty jeep and telling him to get rid of it, only for him to not only take it in but fix it up???? literally took the time to peel off all of stiles' duct tape and odds and ends within to not just get it running, but get it running perfectly? good as new??? yeah that's soooo straight of him. sure lmao.

so. that's my thoughts on the movie

watching the teen wolf movie. what the fuck

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Blue Moon - Part 4

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) I felt it necessary to say, remember, these are all following along with the episodes from 03x04 on till the end of 3A. Without *directly* inserting the reader into the plot line, but more an off screen role. (Aside from the beginning, where, obviously, Derek fought the Alpha’s while Cora watched from the sidelines.) And because of that, it’s more angst than I usually write. It was a very angsty season. And the prompts have inherent angst, but lots of fluff, and sass, so once we get out of the murkiness that is Jennifer Blake (can you tell I don’t like her? - which, kudos to the actress, who I think is beautiful and brilliant, for making me hate her so much. 😆) we can move on to that happy, feel good, Sourwolf love we all enjoy so much. But until then, I guess this counts as a slow burn of sorts?

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,633

Xxx

The next day was lonely. Stiles would text you every now and then, but other than that it was a quiet day. No word about Derek from anyone other than Peter and Cora going to get his body and it not being there. And neither was Ennis’, who Derek had pulled down with him. You decided not to dwell on the many possible things that could mean. 

You drove in silence to all the places Stiles had mentioned the night before and spoke meekly at each one. You felt almost like you were floating through the day, going through the motions, but your mind was a million miles away. 

The meet ended up getting canceled due to weather, and they were all going to be stuck staying at some crappy motel that Stiles insisted was haunted through multiple texts with an excessive amount of emojis. You couldn’t get ahold of anyone else, which was kinda odd, but also not totally abnormal.

To top it all off, you needed something you left at the loft, so you told the Sheriff - who had taken the night off and ordered a pizza to stay in with you this evening, after finding out Stiles wasn’t coming right back - you would be back in a flash, you just had to “run home real quick”, careful not to mention the loft, to which he just chuckled and said something along the lines of, “Just make sure you run the speed limit.”

Sighing as you pulled into the loft parking lot, you glanced through the windshield up at the top floor where it sat. It was so ominous looking, bathed in moonlight, it almost gave a faint glow. Resting your forehead on the steering wheel, you took some deep breaths, panic rising as flashes of your tango with an Alpha came back rapidly. But instead of feeling like a badass, it made you hyperventilate. There was this gnawing feeling that it had been a one time thing, and that should you ever encounter them again you would be in so much trouble. 

Taking one last deep breath to steady your nerves, you stopped mid inhale, slightly cocking your head to the side, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

Derek. 

You had caught Derek’s scent. Well, it’s his loft, you rationalized to yourself. But no. This was fresh. Less than a few hours old. Glancing back up at the loft one last time, you grabbed the handle and yanked your door open, mustering the courage you could find to climb up the winding staircase and see for yourself.

Taking them two at a time, you felt your courage build with each step and your hope that Derek was there along with it. As you stood in front of the loft door, your outstretched hand just shy of the handle and trembling, you took a tentative breath and knew Derek had been here very recently. That was the final push you needed to firmly grip the handle of the loft door, preparing to give it a hefty pull, but something made you stop short. 

A whisper. 

Just on the other side of the door, a woman's voice, then Derek’s. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you; you didn’t smell anyone else. You did pick up on something vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place it. The smell reminded you of school, and the crime scenes of the sacrifices you had been at, and lately, the loft. Unable to place the smell, you slowly slid the door open, stopping after only a few inches to peek in. 

What you saw made your heart speed up, as there Derek sat on the edge of his bed, covered in scratches and blood, but alive. He was alive. 

Your feet that had been glued to the floor suddenly felt like they were floating, the distance between him and you too much. You couldn’t contain the smile that brought to your lips, but it soon melted when another figure stepped into view in front of him. On instinct you had started to move forward, barely making it over the threshold before the other silhouette made you pull up short.

Jennifer. 

You covered your mouth to hold in whatever was about to come out, anger, disgust, pain, you didn’t know, they were all swirling in your gut at the sight. You fell to your knees, bracing yourself on the doorframe to try and stay just out of sight.

No, Derek hadn’t caught your scent yet, which is what you found the most strange, and worrisome, and only reinforced that she was doing something to his mind. 

You finally placed the smell as belonging to Miss Blake, but it was different from her scent she had all the other times you had seen her, and that somehow made it worse. It didn’t smell like emotions or anything, it smelled like an entirely different being. Barely even human.

This last thought made you knit your eyebrows in determination, about to rise to your feet, charge in there, and show the she devil a thing or two, but you only made it to one knee, still bent on the floor, before you froze, eyes wide, eyebrows practically in your hairline. What you saw could never be unseen. Like two dogs in heat, they were on one another as if space between them was too painful. Your grip on the door frame and the loft door handle almost broke them under the pressure. 

You felt sick. Physically sick to your stomach. Whether from the feeling of betrayal, knowing you were right that something was weird about this whole thing, the fact that they had been getting it on in front of you, or all of the above, you weren’t quite sure.

Sliding the door shut calmly, you tried to keep it together as you softly, but quickly, made it back down the stairs, into your car, and back to the Stilinski driveway, putting your car in park and shutting off the engine before you let yourself feel anything. 

You wanted to kick and scream and sob your eyes out because you knew she had been doing something to him, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t go with your gut, and now here you were. In your car, alone. In front of the Stilinski house. Silent tears racing down your face at the feeling of betrayal, both from seeing them together tonight and at yourself for not doing something sooner. 

A tap on your window made you jump, and you saw the Sheriff trying to peek in. Opening your door, you hopped out, swiping rapidly at your tears, and plastering a smile on your face. “Sorry that took so long.”

He looked at you skeptically, waving it off. “Nah. The pizza just got here. You’re right on time.”

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he ushered you into the house, quietly closing the front door behind the both of you. He stayed silent until you were both in the living room. He had the remote in his hand about to press play on the movie, but it dipped once in hesitation before he sighed, and it fell along with his hand to the armrest beside him. Scrubbing his face for a moment with his free hand, he finally looked up at you. Opening his mouth once before snapping it shut, staring blankly in front of him as if the space held the right thing to say, he scratched his forehead with the remote, his face making the face you had come to learn and love earlier on from Stiles. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You stopped trying to grab a slice of pizza from the box, clearing your throat and wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans before nodding gently, staring at the floor. “Yeah.” You looked up and met his gaze, seeing concern painting his features. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Stilinski. Just boy trouble. Thanks for asking.” You smiled as best you could, and he seemed to do the same. 

“Well, we’ve known each other forever, sweetheart, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

The smile on your face felt a little more genuine. “I know. Thank you.”

“No matter how uncomfortable it makes me,” he continued as if you hadn’t said anything. The words sounded pained and forced, his brows knit like he was eating a lemon, and you finally let out the full smile that had been trying break through, even laughing. 

His lips twitched up gently. “There she is.”

“I will. Thank you. But for both of our sakes-” you leaned in, placing a hand on his forearm- “I’ll probably just tell Stiles.”

“Oh, thank God.” He let out on a huff of air, making you laugh again. “Now. Let’s watch this movie.” He hit play, and you settled into the couch, letting the plot unfolding on the screen take you away, if only for a little while.

Xxx

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, waking you up with a start. 

The DVD menu played softly on a loop, the movie long over, and to your right the Sheriff was snoring with his head on the back of the couch. 

You tossed the blanket you had been using on top of him before leaving the room and checked your phone, only to see it was Stiles.

“Stiles?” You spoke quietly into the receiver, not wanting to wake the Sheriff. 

“Y/N? Why are you whispering?” Stiles sounded kind of stressed, just a little bit off. 

“Your dad took off work tonight and we had a pizza - yes, I let him have pizza, don’t you dare jump on my case and go on a tirade about how he needs a salad, let the man live, Stiles - and we watched a movie.”

“I was wondering why that soundtrack was playing on a loop in the background. He used a DVD, didn’t he? I taught him how to use streaming-”

“Stiles!” You cut off his tangent with a chuckle. “Why are you calling me so late. Or, is it early?” You checked your watch to find it was early morning, still dark outside. 

“Well, let’s just say tonight has been interesting, we are all alive, which is good, but sleeping on the bus-”

“The bus?”

“The bus. Our rooms weren’t safe, and I don’t mean because of roaches or mysterious stains, Y/N.” You grinned. “Although there was this one smell in my room that was rather suspect….”

Smell. Scent. Shit.

Screwing your eyes shut, palm on your forehead, you spoke quickly, “Stiles, don’t be angry with me.” Peeking your head into the other room to see the Sheriff still soundly asleep, you stepped onto the back porch and closed the door behind you, ignoring Stiles’ incessant questions as you did. 

“Stiles! Hush! I had to leave the room so your dad didn’t hear!” 

“Oh,” was all he said. You heard the squeak of the bus as he slumped back against it, obviously doing the same as you and trying to get a bit of privacy. 

Taking a deep breath, you told him everything you saw at the loft. 

The only thing he did was suck in a sharp breath, but was otherwise silent. Finally he said, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, thanks, whatever.” You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before lifting your gaze to stare vacantly across the yard. “My main concern was that scent. It didn’t smell human, but not entirely not human.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” Stiles said blandly, making your lips twitch up just slightly. You heard another voice on the other end, Scott, and Stiles mumbled something about speakerphone before the phone was jostled around a bit. You could hear a mumbled, “Well, no, you don’t need speakerphone because you’re a freak of nature, Scott, but I, a mere mortal, need the aid.” You chuckled and could hear Scott let out a groan and soft chuckle himself. 

“Y/N?” Finally Scott’s voice came through clearly.

“Yeah?” 

“First of all, thank you. For everything.” His voice sounded distant, and you sure as hell were going to interrogate them when they got back as to what the hell happened that night at the motel, but for now you just nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see you and rolled your eyes. 

“You’re welcome, Scott. The feeling’s mutual. Thanks for making it so easy.”

Stiles humphed. “I feel like that last part was directed at me.”

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A mumbled, “Thanks, I guess,” but you could hear his smile. 

“Y/N, the scent. The one you smelled at Derek’s loft.” Scott was back to business. “I think I smelled it here tonight.”

“Really? How is that-” You were cut off by Scott who was obviously talking to Stiles. 

“Right before we decided to stay in the bus, when Lydia saw something in the fire, after the explosion-”

"Okay, what the hell happened to you guys?!" you asked loudly, cutting them off. Grimacing, you quickly used your hearing to pick up on the Sheriff's continued snores, let out a sigh of relief, and lowered your voice. "I feel so left out."

“No, I’m glad you weren’t here,” Scott said. “Long story short, something went after a specific group of our friends, and when it finally showed its face,” you heard Lydia cut in from somewhere behind, “I’d barely call that a face,” and you didn’t know whether to laugh or be afraid. 

Scott continued pointedly, “When it showed its face, I got a whiff of something I can only describe how you described the smell at the loft. Not human. But also not… not…. human.”

A smacking sound could be heard, and you realized Stiles was patting Scott on the back while saying, “It’s okay, bud. It’s been a long day.”

“One question.” You took a deep breath, trying to decide on the winner of thousands that swam around your brain right now. “Why is Lydia there?”

“She came with Allison.”

“Why was Allison there, Stiles?”

“Uh-uh. You said one question.”

“This is still technically the same question since they apparently came together.”

“….Touché,” Stiles finally came back with, before sighing. “Look, I’ll tell you everything when we get back, okay? It’s been a hell of a day and I just want to sleep,” he continued in a mumble, “if I can ever sleep again after seeing what I’ve seen.” A brief pause. “You werewolves need to come with a disclaimer. ‘May cause sleep disturbances’.” 

You laughed loudly. “Okay, okay. I know I’m not going to get anywhere with you guys this tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” came a chorus of voices, and you felt relief wash over you at the sound of each one, knowing they were safe and sound. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” Stiles’ voice came through by itself after some fumbling, probably taking you off speakerphone.

“Goodbye, Stiles. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay on the phone until you fall asleep? I mean, I am part of the reason, after all. I do come with a disclaimer.”

“I would absolutely love that, but I need to save my battery and I am in a bus surrounded by werewolves, whatever Lydia is, and a hunter. I think my security system is pretty good for tonight.”

You chuckled. “Okay then. Goodnight, Stiles.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Oh!”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being there with my dad.”

“No problem, Stiles. You know he’s like family to me. He was there for me when I came back from the loft, said I could talk about it if I needed.”

“He offered to listen while you talked?!” He was almost yelling. 

You laughed again. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love, @c-dizzle99 What’s This?

[scribeofmorpheus]

Mark of the Wolf Part 10

Catch up here!

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader (Lastname: Markolf)

Words: 3800

Warnings: Violence (duh!), mentions of PTSD

A/N: This is long overdue and also a hefty chapter with me trying and failing to write action scenes. There are flashbacks (in italics) between scenes because this is quite the back and forth chapter. As well as some Japanese and Swedish dialogue! ENJOY! Also: Kaze is Japanese and is pronounced Kah-Zeh. Feedback is encouraged. Like and reblog :) Don’t be afraid to ask to be tagged!

Previously:

Derek watched you try your hardest to move to the beat, but he could tell you weren't in your element. No one should be sober in a night club. Watching you brought a cheeky smile to his face, he almost had the urge to laugh a little.

His phone chimed in his pocket. On the dance floor a few feet from you, he noticed Scott get the same message. Peter's text message read: "We're in position." A few seconds later Liam sent a message of his own: "They took the bait. They're heading your way!" Derek looked down at Scott and spoke just loud enough for his wolf hearing to pick up, "Guess its show time." Scott nodded in acknowledgement and made his way to the stairs leading up to the roof.

"We're all gonna die," Derek sighed to himself, bunching up his fists in anticipation for a fight.

Derek melted further into the crowd until it thinned out to nothing more than one or two people using the empty space to make out and be alone. He pushed through, a part of him feeling uneasy at having lost sight of you on the ground floor, but he had a role to play just as you did. He reached a door that led onto a structurally unsound balcony and pushed it open. On the floor was a bag full of equipment and specially crafted grenades. He picked up the bag and made for the stairs that led further up.

***

Liam ran as fast as his human legs would let him. He refused to change under the circumstances. He needed to keep his senses sharp, but more importantly, he needed to stay in control. His heart hammered against his ribcage vigorously. He could taste the metallic tang of his own blood from where Monroe struck him, rage bubbling to the surface. Rage he had to contain for the fight they'd undoubtedly face in the next few minutes.

When Liam reached the abandoned church they had chosen for their plan of attack, he was surprised to find it illuminated by flashing lights and loud music blaring out of unsound window structures.

His phone beeped, displaying a message from Peter. He was in position and soon Liam would be too.

In swift motions, Liam pulled his phone out, typed away a message and sent it out to the group chat before tossing the tracker Monroe slipped in his pocket into a crack on the side of the church. With his part handled, Liam made for the next rendezvous point.

***

Peter kept his distance from the warehouse where Monroe made her base of operations. He was far enough to avoid visual detection but close enough to eavesdrop on conversations. Peter would never grow tired of his werewolf advantages. He could hear the faint sounds of metal scratching on the untiled floor. It was irritating.

"Should we go after him?" He heard an unfamiliar voice say.

He smirked to himself when he caught wind of Monroe ushering her orders to the rest of her men, "Not yet. He'll lead us to Scot McCall and the rest of his pack. Only then do we kill him." And then after a pause: "Leave a few men to make sure our guest in the basement stays put."

Peter's smile grew wider. That's the confirmation he needed. And with most of Monroe's men leaving the compound and heading out after Liam, his half of the plan was shaping up to be a piece of cake.

Stiles peeked around the abandoned vehicle they used as cover and turned to say something but was caught off guard by Peter's devilish grin. "Jesus!" He said in freight.

"Shh!" Peter rebutted aggressively.

Stiles's eyes went wide and looked at him accusingly, "Don't 'Shhh' me. Next time don't grin like an idiot. I thought you were going to eat me for a second there."

"If you don't shut up, I just might..." Peter threatened.

"Why'd they have to stick us together?" Stiles whined

Peter rolled his eyes and crouched closer to the warehouse, "You volunteered."

Stiles scampered after him, half tripping over a rock. When he secured his footing he said, "Yes, because I don't trust you. You always have an angle."

Peter looked down at Stiles unimpressed, "And even if I did, what was your grand plan to stop me?"

Stiles thought hard on his question and his face contorted in a thoughtful expression, but the only words out of his mouth were, "Ahhhhh, I'm still working on it."

"Come on," Peter sighed, using his strength to hoist Stiles through a window with one arm. Stiles, unprepared, made a freakishly feminine sound. Peter jumped in after him. "Here," he held out his phone, "Tell the rest of the team we're in position."

Peter took in his surroundings. The building was bare, except for a few crates of ammunition and possibly some technical equipment. There was a metal chair with rope next to it in the centre. Peter guessed that was where they had Liam tied up. When Stiles was done, he handed the phone back to Peter and asked: "What now?"

"Now, we look for the good druid."

"Right," Stiles said with purpose. He took a determined step forward, his foot crashing against an empty paint can. His eyes went wide giving Peter an 'Oops' shrug. Peter put his face in his hands and shook his head.

"Quietly."

"Right. Quietly."

***

As you swayed your body from side to side, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Your mind kept racing through every aspect of the plan and how easily it could all fall apart. The music was loud and distracting, you were thankful for that. At the very least, you wouldn't have to strain yourself to keep mindful of any creak, footstep or distressing sounds. It meant that for now, you could try and lose yourself in the moment, among all the other alcohol-fuelled bodies grinding close to one another. Your mind wandered back to a memory from earlier.

You and Derek hoped out of the off-road vehicle you'd rented for the trip in Mexico. His eyes were shielded from the brutal sun by a pair of Ray-bans. You couldn't help but notice just how well they framed his face, making him look all the more mysterious -and sexy as hell. He walked to the edge of the road and stood there with his arms folded over his chest. You walked over to stand by his side.

"This the place?" You asked, taking in the underwhelming appearance of the destitute church.

"Yeah. It's perfect. Easily fortifiable. Many exits and there's an old tunnel system that was built under it. There's a dense treeline not too far south -if we still believe those hunters travel through trees." Derek shook his head, still finding a hint of absurdity in what he just said. "It should work for our purposes."

You unfolded your map and looked at your position -far from any towns to avoid an incident yet close to several abandoned buildings in case you needed a place to lay low, if things went bad. "And the locals?" you asked.

Derek's eyebrows furrowed beneath his glasses, "Should be empty. Most locals won’t come here."

You were about to ask him why, but he looked down at you and shrugged, "Local curse. Something about ghosts." was all he said.

"Is it real?"

"Don't know." He looked at you with a playful smile on his face, "But all I know is that this place should be good and empty tonight."

"And we just have to hope those hunters want me bad enough to cross borders for… If they even perceive travel the same way we do.”

How could any of you have known that a bunch of rebellious teenagers would choose to host a rave in the very same church you'd chosen to have your showdown?

After a few minutes of fumbling around, trying to seem like you were having a good time, a loud noise sounded throughout the age-old structure. It didn't help that the acoustics in the church were amazing either. Instinctively, you brought your hands to your ears and crouched lower -and apparently, so did everyone else. The DJ stopped playing his music and everyone looked to where the sound had come from with wide eyes and confused expressions.

By the double doors of the church, you saw a woman stand with legs far apart. A large party of men wearing patched-together tactical gear stood behind her. Her face stern and her eyes filled with cold distaste, she looked like a woman ready for war. When you noticed the shotgun in her hand letting off wisps of hot smoke, you knew instantly what the sound had been and who she was.

"Monroe," you whispered.

"Party's over," she said coolly. When no one moved, she cocked her shotgun and took a step forward. "I. Said. Party's over!"

As the crowd thinned out, you had a hard time keeping your ground. Everywhere around you, elbows, arms and legs kept bumping into you. You were just thankful there wasn’t a large enough crowd to cause a stampede. As you began to make your way to cover, Monroe spoke again and this time you were shocked to learn she was addressing you.

"Not you!" Monroe shouted. She nodded her head at one of her men and they took her order without the need for words. Two men walked over to you and grabbed your shoulders. Dragging you along towards their leader.

You wanted to ask what this was all about, why she chose to single you out of the crowd, but you figured such questions were irrelevant. Somehow, you always ended up at the centre of trouble.

"You look familiar…" She turned your chin from side to side with her long, calloused fingers. "Why is that?" She squinted her eyes at you.

You chose to stay quiet.

The church was all but empty now, except for you, Scott, Monroe and Derek -who seemed to have disappeared in all the excitement.

Behind you, two bodies hit the ground from the second-floor railing with a padded thud. "Let her go, Monroe!" Scott's voice spoke out, slightly muffled by his fangs. "It's me you want!"

"Scott McCall. The Alpha!" She bellowed rousingly. "All alone? Now, now, Scott..." Monroe let go of your face and walked towards the centre of the room, "You aren't planning something are you?"

"Against you and your men? You and I both know who has the numbers in that fight," Scott said bitterly.

"You're not wrong there. The werewolf population has hit staggering all-time lows recently. And as much as I'd love for me and my hunter's to take all the credit, it seems our efforts have inspired a few others to join in the hunt."

"You and your men aren't hunters. They have a code. You're just murderers who use fear and intimidation to brainwash people into becoming murderers too!" Scott was practically foaming at the mouth. You'd never seen him so filled with rage before. His eyes darted towards the church's entrance and then back to you, and finally onto Monroe. You could've sworn you saw his lips twitch into a secret smile for a second. You looked behind you and saw something whoosh past the entrance at inhuman speeds.

"Enough talk! Get down so we can end this once and for all!" Monroe ordered. Dropping her shotgun on the ground, one of her men jogged to her side and handed her two stun rods. She grabbed them eagerly and twirled them between her fingers gracefully. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this fight!"

Scott's phone chimed. He looked down at the screen and his red eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Yes, you're right. Enough talk."

"Come on!" She shouted.

Scott jumped off the second-floor railing and landed two feet in front of Monroe, his teeth and claws fully transformed. He scratched at the wooden floor with predatory menace and roared, craning his neck to the roof, before charging Monroe. You tried to move, but the guards simply tightened their grip on your arm and shook you to stay in place. You gritted your teeth to keep from swearing.

Scott paired attack after attack and Monroe, who was somehow able to keep up with Scott's slashes and clawing advances, managed to parry and counter nearly every motion with skilled precision. You had never seen a human hold their own against an Alpha with such determination before. She truly was a force to reckon with. As they fought, you began to notice the wind grew more and more restless. Moisture clung to the air and you could almost smell rain.

Scott lured Monroe close by letting his defences down, she managed to strike him in the chest, but he had flung the baton away before she could stun him. Making haste as to not waste his new opening, Scott ducked, swivelled and wrapped his claws around Monroe's neck as they stood back to back. Then in an instant, he sent her hurdling with great momentum towards a series of pews. Her body flipped and landed on the ground hard. She struggled to sit up, a cloud of dust heaved into the air by a wet cough. Scott stalked towards her with caution.

"It's over Monroe."

She spat blood onto the floor and wiped her mouth, a grin giving way to the view of white enamel stained by dark blood. "Is it?"

She pulled out a baton from underneath her body and zapped him with a surge of lethal volts that sent his body curdling to the floor with a painful yelp. Monroe placed her knee on Scott's chest as she tased him again and again. The room filling with painful grunts and a sickening laugh.

You began to flash back to that night in the woods. Scott's face morphing into Alex's and then back again. His screams becoming Scott's grunts. Monroe's laugh turning more masculine, hollow. Her face transitioning between Alyster's and her own. You shook your head, unable to trust your mind at that moment. "Stop," you whispered. "Stop. Stop, STOP!"

Thunder rumbled and a flash of dry lightning filled the space, blinding and white. When everyone regained their stances and blinked the bright spots away, you noticed Scott looking at you with a strange expression on his face. Monroe too.

"Your eyes..." Monroe whispered.

Suddenly, the wind became angry and it felt as though the temperature had dropped by several degrees. The doors and windows began to swing violently against rusty hinges. The whole church sounded like it was creaking in protest. Out of every shadow and dark corner bodies wearing ancient armour began to advance. Their eyes were practically lifeless. A chill crept up your spine and you had the unexplainable urge to look behind you. Like something was beckoning you towards it, despite your body's protests in fear. You craned your neck and when you saw what it was… who it was, your mouth turned dry and your nose began to choke on non-existent smoke.

A paling man with long, thin red hair held out one single bony finger, his voice as coarse as shards of glass cutting through vocal cords, "Give us the girl." He said calmly. The device around his neck -the Oculus- began to glow its sickly green colour. Tendrils of bright green light began to flow outward, seeking you out. The closer the tendrils got, the greater the feeling of dread filled your gut. But what appeared to unnerve you the most, was that no one else noticed the green tendrils snaking closer and closer towards you.

"What is this?" Monroe asked with a shaky voice. She swivelled her head from side to side, her face filled with fear as she realised they were all surrounded.

One of her men got trigger happy and unloaded his clip into the chest of a mouthless creature. When all his bullets were lodged into its chest, it looked down at the destruction done to its chest with a displeased expression, it shook a single digit in dismay as black oozed out of its wounds and the next thing you knew, the man was on the floor, blood pouring out of his neck. A wrenching gurgling noise escaping his throat. The creature had been so fast, you never once saw him reach for a weapon.

Scott used Monroe's state of distraction to kick her in the stomach and crawl out from under her knee. She staggered back and held her hand out to one of her men. As one of her men tossed her a machine gun, Scott shouted, "Now!"

Out of nowhere, several smoke grenades cluttered around the feet of Monroe's soldiers and the Order's. The room filled with smoke that held a familiar tinge to it -sage. Then you saw a dark figure ghost around the two men who had held you, sending them flying back into the growing smoke. You noticed the tendrils disappear behind the curtain of growing smoke. You took out the bandana you had stashed in your back pocket and tied it around your nose. The figure stood with an intimidating presence between you and your enemies. A loud aggressive roar filled the room and familiar bright blue eyes looked at you with a soft reassurance.

"Derek?"

The obscured figure tilted its head slightly, its eyes growing softer at the mention of his name. It was Derek. Through the smoke, you could hear more gunshots and grunts. Knowing you couldn't see as well as him, Derek acting as your shield, began to inch backwards slowly, his claws opened wide at either of your sides. You followed his direction and allowed him to inch you backwards until you bumped against another person’s back. You jumped and quickly turned, relieved to be greeted by Scott's glowing eyes.

"Well, we did it. We got them here." You said wistfully.

"That was the easy part," Derek said.

"Easy for you to say," Scott rubbed his ribs where Monroe had tased him repeatedly.

"You survived didn't you?" Derek said.

"Regardless, let's just hope Liam and your contact follow through in time," you said.

"She will," was all Derek said in reply.

Even though his position was obscured by the mess of fighting bodies and thick smoke, you heard the familiar dark voice of Alyster issue his commands, "Astrid, bring me the girl. Kaze, deal with this smoke."

A light, feminine voice spoke out in Japanese, "Okonawa  remasu."

It is done

With those words, the wind began to pick up again as though it was under someone’s spell. It howled like an unwelcome spectre, taking old window shutters off their hinges and moving several pieces of derelict furniture with it. The smoke was beginning to clear and you could see an outline of a petite woman with short, jet black hair at the epicentre of where the strong winds were generated from. Her eyes not glowing, but almost shimmering a dull grey.

Scott shielded his eyes from the drying winds. He looked over at the woman and uttered: "Kitsune."

When the wind began to return to normal the whistling of an arrow whizzed towards you. Out of your peripheral, a small object blurred past you just as Derek used his body to move you close to the ground. He snapped up swiftly, bringing his hand to grasp something close to his face. With a crack, Derek snapped the arrow he had stopped close to his eye and it cluttered to the floor. He growled, bringing his claws to an attack position as Astrid -the archer- nocked another arrow from her vantage point two flights up. A wicked grin on her face showing just how much she was enjoying the chaos around her.

"Idag tar du ditt sista andetag, Varg!" Astrid said triumphantly.

Today you breathe your last breath, Wolf!

"Whatever you said, I can assure you, thing's aren't gonna go your way!" Derek warned, chucking a large piece of debris at her.

Astrid nimbly dodged his projectile and climbed one level down by vaulting off the second floor and catching the railing on the first floor. When she had her footing she nocked two arrows simultaneously, they had wedged themselves into two of Monroe's men who were about to flank from Derek's sides.

Derek looked shocked. "You're mine, Wolf!" Astrid said as she aimed a new arrow at Derek's chest.

As Derek dodged each arrow by a razor's edge, Scott set his sights on the non-threatening looking Kitsune who smiled pleasantly. Her eyes peacefully closed as though she were meditating in a Zen garden. Enclosing around her was a swarm of Monroe's men. Once in position, several of them raised their sights on her. Scott could do nothing but watch with curiosity.

Behind you, you felt the cold air of the green tendrils get close to your skin. When you looked down, you noticed one tendril was within an inch of your wrist. You gasped and yanked your arm away. Derek and Scott heard your gasp and turned to see if someone had broken through their protective circle, they hadn't. Puzzled they looked away and returned their attention to their opponents.  

The men surrounding the Kitsune fired off their weapons but were dismayed to realise their bullets had been swept up in a miniature tornado. The furniture and dust began to slowly move towards the spin force generated by the tornado until it stopped and reversed in direction. All the bullets trapped in the spinning air were now released back to the men who shot them out.

Hundreds of bullets swerved and curved around pillars and walls to embed themselves into Monroe's men. Scott and Derek instantly reached for you and both of them pushed your shoulders down as they ducked for cover too. Just then you felt your whole body go limp as a coldness took over your body. Your body was paralysed and all you could do was look down at your ankle where a green tendril had wrapped itself around you.

Time slowed, sound vanished and your vision was filled with nothing but the green smoke of the Oculus and the sight of a weary-looking Alyster. His eyes met yours with a chilling snap. His lips slowly, painfully, tugging towards his eyes to form an unnerving smile.

"Come with us, and all this chaos can end. Come with us and I'll tell you the truth," his words swarmed around your brain. It was then that you realised he was inside your head. You tried to shake him out, to scream for him to shut up, but you were motionless, voiceless and completely helpless. "Come with us and you will learn of your importance to the Order... And the fate of the world."

Chapter 11>>

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[isthatbloodonhisshirt]

Useless

Sterek A-Z Challenge: Useless 

Derek was having a hard time right then, mostly because Lydia was crying. No matter how many times he told her to stop, she couldn’t seem to manage it, but it was making it difficult for him to hear Stiles’ heartbeat.

He kept worrying the reason he couldn’t hear it was because it was no longer there, but every few seconds when Lydia would inhale shakily between sobs, he would hear the very faint thump of it in Stiles’ chest and he could breathe again for that one split second he heard it.

Light eyes rose to where Lydia was pressing down hard on the wound in Stiles’ chest, blood coating her hands, and more sobs escaping her. She had twigs in her hair, and her makeup was running, but she didn’t seem to care.

Everyone looked like shit, but nobody seemed to care.

Scott was a little ways down the road, yelling into his phone and pacing back and forth, one hand in his hair and tugging. Derek focussed back on what he was doing, pain racing up his arms from the black lines snaking their way up beneath his skin.

It hurt. A lot. The pain was agonizing and he wanted to take a break, but he didn’t dare. He worried that the only reason Stiles was still breathing was because he couldn’t feel the pain. Derek didn’t want to risk letting him go and having the shock of the pain kill him.

He could feel panic beginning to rise in his chest, because it had been too long. Much too long. Blood was still trickling between Lydia’s fingers no matter how hard she pressed down, and Stiles’ breathing was so shallow that he risked stopping at any moment.

Derek felt his fangs itching at his gums, nails already long since having turned into claws at the mere memory of how this had happened.

Scott had been faster than him at taking the hunter down, but Derek had been the one to rip his throat out. Stiles wasn’t a threat, and he wasn’t even a Werewolf. When unknown hunters showed up, they always tried to make trouble for the pack. It had never worked, Chris Argent had always been quick to diffuse any and all situations.

But he wasn’t here this time. The hunter had threatened them. Stiles had been mouthy. The hunter had shot him. Derek had killed him.

Apparently this hunter had the same ideals as Kate and Gerard Argent. A wolf was a wolf, didn’t matter if they broke the code or not. Well, Derek had broken the code, but he doubted Chris Argent would blame him.

Malia and Liam had gone to get rid of the body before the police arrived. God knew when that would be, considering it felt like it had been hours since this had happened. How long before help arrived? How much longer did Stiles have?

Derek felt his lungs constricting, panic rising more steadily now. This was his fault. Everything was his fault. He wasn’t allowed to have anything, he wasn’t allowed to be happy. Having Stiles had been... his everything.

After years of dancing around each other. After years of fighting and saving one another and trusting each other. Derek had finally asked him. He’d asked him why he still stuck around. Why he helped Derek lick his wounds when he was hurt. Why he ran to save Derek again and again whenever he needed it.

Why Stiles had stopped, why he had hesitated, before running in to save Scott while Derek had been dying.

“Because I love you, Sourwolf,” Stiles had said, punching him in the arm. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Derek didn’t know what kind of love it was back then. He’d thought friendship, because all friends told one another they loved each other. He’d assumed it wasn’t romantic. And maybe, back then, it hadn’t been. Maybe after he’d said the words was when both of them had slowly started to change.

Stiles showed up at the loft to hang out more often. Derek picked him up and dropped him off at school when his Jeep was in the shop. They started texting more. It was a gradual thing, happening so subtly neither of them had even noticed until Stiles’ dad had taken Derek aside one night and informed him that if he hurt his son, he had wolfsbane bullets in the garage and he knew how to use a gun.

That was when Derek realized that he was in love with Stiles. That he cared about him, wanted to spend time with him, be with him. That was when he’d admitted it, when he’d kissed him, when everything had seemed perfect for once in his miserable life.

That had been a week ago. One stupid week of happiness, and now this. Stiles shot and bleeding to death in the middle of the road, Derek with a man’s blood on his hands, Lydia sobbing while trying to keep him alive.

Derek heard sirens approaching, but they were still so far off. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know how to help Stiles. He wanted to pick him up and just run to the hospital with him, wanted to get him help now, but he couldn’t. All he could do was sit there, leeching his pain, praying it was enough.

Derek wasn’t allowed to have nice things. He wasn’t allowed to be happy. And nobody had ever made him as happy as Stiles did, so he should’ve known this would happen. If he was to be destroyed, the easiest way to do that was to deprive him of the one thing in his life he had left to live for.

The sheriff arrived first. His car skid to a halt right in front of Scott, almost hitting him. He threw open the car door, practically shoved Scott out of his way, and ran to where Stiles was lying on the asphalt, Lydia still sobbing and pressing against the gunshot wound, Derek at his other side holding his hand with both of his own and taking all of his pain.

Stiles’ father fell to his knees beside Stiles, tears in his eyes and agony etched into the lines of his face. He looked like a broken man. He looked how Derek felt in that moment. Like everything that had ever mattered in his life was being taken away from him.

The ambulance appeared moments later, and Derek held on to Stiles as long as he could until the paramedics were close enough to see the lines. Only then did he let go and step aside so that others could work on him.

He watched helplessly from a foot away, Scott hugging Lydia beside him while she held her hands out, crying even harder, presumably at the knowledge that it was Stiles’ blood on her hands. Like she thought it would never come off.

Derek watched the paramedics rip off Stiles’ shirt, cover the wound, strap him down to a gurney. He watched them load him into the ambulance while his father scrambled in after them. He watched the ambulance drive away, lights flashing, siren blaring.

And he stood there, in the road, hands covered in blood, feeling useless.

He couldn’t save his family. He couldn’t save his pack. He couldn’t save Stiles.

The three of them stood there while police officers roped off the scene. When someone came to take their statements, Parrish inserted himself into the interrogation and took over, the other officer disappearing to assist someone else with roping off the area.

He didn’t know why Parrish was bothering trying to get anything out of them. Lydia was still crying, Scott was hyperventilating, and Derek was... in shock. He remembered this feeling from when his family had died. He was fairly certain it was shock.

Parrish seemed to know he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of any of them, so he told them to get out of there and he’d find them at the hospital later. Nobody stopped them when they went to leave.

Scott left Lydia with Derek because someone had to drive Stiles’ Jeep. Derek took her in the Camaro, the three of them making their way to the hospital. They made it to the parking lot before realizing two of them were covered in blood. Scott went ahead while Derek drove Lydia to the loft.

He let her use the shower while he cleaned himself up in the kitchen sink. He could hear her crying even over the sound of water hitting tile. He stood at the sink, staring at the pink-tinted water swirling down the drain, and felt his chest constrict.

Stiles was injured. Stiles might be dead. And Derek couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t do anything about it.

For the second time in his young life, Derek felt so utterly, helplessly useless, and he swore to himself, no matter what, that he would never allow himself to feel this way again.

He waited for Lydia to dress in some of his clothes, and then they headed back for the hospital. Stiles was going to be all right, because if he wasn’t, the hunters of the world would know the name Derek Hale, because he would kill every last fucking one of them.

END.

[mca-attack21]

Divine Move

Hi there! Welcome to another installation of the Stiles Sis Fic Series. This is based on Season 3B episode 12. To find the rest of this series click here. Thanks for reading!

Allison Argent is dead. That souldn’t be a sentence, much less a true one. But there it was. Scott, Lydia, and Stiles were still on the scene giving their fake statements to the cops after being coached by Mr. Argent himself. 

Isaac was sitting outside Deaton’s in her car. Allison’s car. He was trying to keep it together, he really was. But the thought of losing the girl he had loved, and now possibly losing his best friend too. He was so distanced from reality, he hardly noticed his phone rining. When he saw who it was, he highly debated whether he should answer it right now. But gave in. 

“Isaac? Are you okay?” Chris asked immediately.

“I am. I am so sorry I wish there was something I could’ve- If there is anything that I can do- I mean I-” Isaac started.

“Isaac I appreciate the concern but you don’t have to do anything. I’ll be alright, I have dealt with this before. I have a capacity and an ability to compartmentalize my emotions,” Argent said.

“I don’t,” Isaac whispered. Mr. Argent told him to drive to the house so the two of them could talk. Which Isaac decided was the best move. 

Meanwhile, Scott and Lydia went to Derek to find a box made from the Nemeton. And Stiles was now at Kira’s, they were trying to think of a divine move. All around town people were being stabbed by the Oni. Once they were stabbed were poisoned. Back at the Argents, Isaac and Chris were talking. When they realized that Silver was the key to killing the Oni. Stiles, Kira, Scott and Lydia were all at Derek’s when Lydia almost passed out. 

“What? What is it?” Scott asked. 

“I have this feeling like we are running out of time,” she replied as they went to Stiles’ jeep headed for the School. 

You shot up out of the tub full of ice you were in. 

“What happened?” you asked Deaton. 

“You pushed yourself too far, if it wasn’t for Isaac you might have died” he said looking at you concerned.

 You got up and started to go. “Do you know where they are?” you asked after changing into the dry clothes he offered you. 

“Scott said they are going to the school. But Y/n - be careful, one of these times I won’t be able to bring you back,” he answered throwing you the keys to his spare car.

When you got to the school you saw that the others were already inside. As you stumbled in it was as if you were transported to another universe. Everyone was fighting the Oni except for Stiles who looked 100 times worse than the last time you saw him. You rushed to his side grabbing his hand and providing him with strength as you helped him to his feet. The longer you stood there, the worse that the fight got. You were losing and it wasn’t pretty. 

Suddenly Stiles turned breaking away from you and grabbing Kira’s sword holding it to his stomach.

“Stiles no,” Scott yelled and the fighting ceased. 

“What if it saves you? What if it saves all of you?” Stiles asked. 

“What if it is just another trick?” Lydia replied. 

“No more tricks Lydia, End it Scott, let your friend fall on his own blade, do for him what he can not do for himself. Be his kusunoki. Give up the game,” Void spoke.

Stiles was about to do it when he saw a geometry textbook in the reflection of the blade. He remembered where he was. “Stop fighting. This isn’t real. It’s another trick. Scott you have to trust me it's just an illusion.” 

Then, one by one, lead by Scott, the pack walked through all of the Oni and back in the real world. “We’re okay,” Scott said relieved before the Nogitsune knocked him into the lockers. He then flung you and Kira across the hall and walked straight for Stiles. “This is my game. You think you can beat me at my game?” 

He was continuing his rant when you had a horrible feeling. Trusting your instincts you forced yourself up and out to where Isaac, Chris, Derek, Ethan, and Aiden were fighting the last Oni. Mr. Argent shot off his last arrow and missed, leaving Aiden out of options. 

Knowing what was about to happen, you summoned up your strength and placed a force field around Aiden long enough for him to grab the arrow and stab the Oni who failed to retaliate before exploding into nothingness. The light-headedness was starting to take over again and you were sinking down to your knees about to fall forward when Derek caught you. You reached a hand up and wiped the blood from under your nose, fighting against all urges to pass out. 

“Please take me to Stiles,”

Derek hesitated for a moment before agreeing, knowing that he’d be there to protect you if anything went south. He helped you to your feet and supported most of your weight as you made it back in the school. The Nogitsune was still yelling “Divine move, Divine move. You think you have any moves at all? You can kill the Oni but me, you can’t kill me I’m a thousand years old!” 

“No but we can change you,” Lydia replied. That was when Scott bite the Nogitsune and it turned to ash. Isaac caught the fly in the magical jar. And you thought it was all over until you saw Stiles hit the ground. You broke from Derek’s grasp and dove down next to Stiles.

 “No Stiles you are not allowed to die… Stiles wake up” you said with way more emotion in your voice than you care to admit. You cautiously touched his forehead and then he shot up. 

“Oh god I fainted didn’t I?” he asked as you engulfed him in a hug. 

“We’re alive, we are all alive” he said in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Scott said picking his best friend up. Derek and Isaac both went to help you up. At this point, they pretty much carried you out to the jeep. On the way, Ethan came up to you and thanked you for saving his brother’s life. When you were safely in the back of the jeep Aiden opened the door and climbed in next to you. “I wanted to thank you for what you did back there. There is no way I’d be sitting here if it wasn’t for you,” he said as a single tear rolled down his check. He pulled you into a hug “I’ll never forget this.”

Every one who was attacked by the Onis were now okay. When you got home Stiles and your dad carried you to your room. Stiles went to bed glad that everything was finally over and your dad hesitantly went back to work to sort everything out.

 When Scott got home he sat at the kitchen table and cried. He had lost Allison, and because of him he almost lost you too. His mom just sat with his and let him cry on her shoulder.

The next morning when you woke you found a letter and a wrapped box on your desk. Dear Y/n: By the time you read this I will probably be on a plane to Europe with Argent. I can’t stay in Beacon hills anymore, not when everything reminds me of her. She was my first love. As my best friend I hope you can understand. And as yours I know you are probably blaming yourself right now. But none of this was your fault. I am so thankful for having you as my best friend. There is no way I would have gotten through my screwed up childhood without you. I would probably been held back without your tutoring. I wouldn’t have learned control without you right by my side. We’ve been through everything together. I’m sorry for the way I left. I’ll call you when I get settled in over here. I’ll miss you everyday. Love, Your Lahey.

You opened the box to find Isaac's lacrosse Jersey, you held it as you started to cry. Stiles burst into your room “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked concerned. And then he saw the letter on your desk.

“Why do I always have to get letters?” you asked. “Why do I never get to say goodbye?”

 Tears were still running down your face as Stiles pulled you into his warm embrace. “Maybe it’s because you are too hard to leave,” he said trying to comfort you. 

“This is all my fault,” you cried. 

“How is any of this your fault?” he asked his own eyes watering at how broken you were. 

“If I would have saved Allison, Isaac wouldn’t have left and Scott wouldn’t hate me,” you said crying even harder. 

“None of this is your fault. There was nothing you could have done. You gave her and Scott time, he couldn’t ask for more. Now come on I’m guessing our true alpha could use some encouragement from his ‘emotional tether’” he said making you laugh.

“You are never going to left me live that down are you?” you asked.

“Nope, not a chance,”   

When you got to Scott’s house Melissa welcomed you with open arms, sending you up to Scott’s room. When you got there you knocked softly. “Mom, I told you I’m not hungry.” 

Then you pushed the door open and replied “I’m not you mother and I have no food. Can I come in?” 

“Yeah come on in” he said. You sat on the bed next to him.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked not wanting to push if he still needed time. 

“Not really,” he said. You then stood up, put your purse down, took your shoes off, and laid next to him. 

“I’ll be here when you do.”