#the thing about Teen Wolf is that there are cops. everywhere. all the time. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greatfay · 4 years ago

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controversial opinions?

Cold pizza actually not good. Tastes like angry bacteria.

There’s a completely separate class of gay men who are in a different, rainbow-tinted plane of reality from the rest of us and I don’t like them. They push for “acceptance” via commercialization of the Pride movement, assimilation through over-exposure, and focus on sexualizing the movement to be “provocative” and writing annoying articles that reek of class privilege instead of something actually important like lgbtqa youth homelessness, job discrimination, and mental health awareness.

Coleslaw is good. You guys just suck in the kitchen.

Generational divides ARE real: a 16-year-old and a 60-year-old right now in 2021 could agree on every hot button sociopolitical topic and yet not even realize it because they communicate in entirely different ways.

Sam Wilson is a power bottom. No I will not elaborate.

Allison’s makeover in The Breakfast Club good, not bad. She kept literally and metaphorically dumping her trash out onto the table and it’s clearly a cry for help. Having the attention and affection of a smart, pretty girl doing her makeup for her was sweet and helped her open up to new experiences. Not every loner wants to BE a loner (see: Bender, who is fine being a lone wolf).

Movie/show recommendations that start with a detailed “representation” list read like status-effecting gear in an RPG and it’s actually a turn-off for me. I have to force myself to give something a try in spite of it.

Yelling at people to just “learn a new language” because clearly everyone who isn’t you and your immediate vicinity of friends must be a lazy ignorant white American is so fucking stupid, like I get it, you’re mad someone doesn’t immediately know how to pronounce your name or what something means. But I know 2 languages and am struggling with a 3rd when I can between 2 jobs and quite frankly, I don’t have the time to just absorb the entire kanji system into my brain to learn Japanese by tomorrow night, or suddenly learn Arabic or Welsh. There are 6500 recorded languages in the world, what’s the chance that one of 3 I’ve learn(ed?) is the one you’re yelling at me about. Yes this is referring to that post yelling at people for not knowing how to pronounce obscure Irish names and words. Sometimes just explaining something instead of admonishing people for not knowing something inherently in the belief that everyone must be lazy entitled privileged people is uh... better?

Stop fucking yelling at people. I despise feeling like someone is yelling at me or scolding me, it triggers my Violence Mode, you don’t run me, you are not God, fuck off. Worst fucking way to "educate” people, it just feels good in the moment to say or write and doesn’t help. Yes I’ve done it before.

Violence is good actually.

Characters doing bad things ≠ an endorsement of bad things. Characters doing bad things that are unquestioned by the entire rest of the cast = endorsement of bad things, or at the least, a power fantasy by the creator. See: Glee, in which Sue’s awfulness is constantly called out, while Mr. Shue’s awfulness rarely is because he’s “the hero.” See also: the Lightbringer series, in which the protagonist is a violent manipulator who is praised as clever, charming, diplomatic, and genius by every supporting character (enemies included), despite the text never demonstrating such.

Euphoria is good, actually. It falls into this niche of the past decade of “dark gritty teen shows” but actually has substance behind it, but the general vibe I get from passive-aggressive tumblr posts from casual viewers is that this show is The Devil, and the criticism of its racier content screams pearl-clutching “what about the children??” to me.

Describing all diagnosed psychopaths as violent criminals is a damaging slippery slope, sure. But I won’t be mad at anyone for inherently distrusting another human who does not have the ability to feel guilt and remorse, empathy, is a pathological liar, or proves to be cunning and manipulative.

It’s actually not easy to unconditionally support and love everyone everywhere when you’ve actually experienced the World. Your perspective and values will be challenged as you encounter difficult people, experience hardship, are torn between conflicting ideas and commitments, and fail. My vow to never ever call the cops on another black person was challenged when an employee’s boyfriend marched into the kitchen OF AN ESTABLISHMENT to scream at her, in a BUSINESS I MANAGED, and threaten to BEAT the SHIT out of her. Turns out I can hate cops and hate that motherfucker equally, I am more than capable of both.

Defending makeup culture bad, actually. Enjoy it, experiment, master it, but don’t paint it as something other than upholding exactly what they want from you. Even using makeup to “defy the heteropatriarchal oppressors!” is still putting cash in their pockets, no matter how camp...

Not every villain needs to be redeemed, some of you just never outgrew projecting yourself onto monsters and killers.

Writing teams and networks queerbaiting is not the same as individuals queerbaiting. Nick Jonas performing exclusively at gay clubs to generate an audience really isn’t criminal; if they paid to go see him, that’s on them, he didn’t promise anyone anything other than music and a show. Do not paint this as similar to wealthy, bigoted executives and writing teams trying to snatch up the LGBTQA demographic with vague ass marketing and manipulative screenplays, only to cop out so as not to alienate their conservative audiences. And ESPECIALLY when the artists/actors/creators accused of queerbaiting or lezploitation then come out as queer in some form later on.

Queer is not a bad word, and I’ve no clue how that remains one of few words hurled at LGBTQA people that can’t be reclaimed. It’s so archaic and underused at this point that I don’t get the reaction to it compared to others.

People who defend grown-woman Lorelai Gilmore’s childish actions and in the same breath heavily criticize teenage religious abuse victim Lane Kim’s actions are not to be trusted. Also Lane deserved better.

Keep your realism out of my media, or at least make it tonally consistent. Tired of shows and movies and books where some gritty, dark shit comes out of nowhere when the narrative was relatively Romantic beforehand.

Actually people should be writing characters different from themselves, this new wave in the past year of “If you aren’t [X] you shouldn’t be writing [X]” is a complete leap backward from the 2010s media diversity movement. And if [X] has to do with an invisible minority status (not immediately visible disabilities, or diverse sexual orientations and gender identities, persecuted religious affiliations, mental illness) it’s actually quite fucked up to assume the creator can’t be whatever [X] is or to demand receipts or details of someone’s personal life to then grant them “permission” to create something. I know, we’re upset an actual gay actor wasn’t casted to play this gay character, so let’s give them shit about it: and not lose a wink of sleep when 2 years later, this very actor comes out and gives a detailed account of the pressure to stay closeted if they wanted success in Hollywood.

Projecting an actor’s personal romantic life and gender identity onto the characters they play is actually many levels of fucked up, and not cute or funny. See: reinterpreting every character Elliot Page has played through a sapphic lens, and insulting his ability to play straight characters while straight actors play actual caricatures of us (See also: Jared Leto. Fuck him).

I’m fucking sick of DaBaby, he sucks. “I shot somebody, she suck my peepee” that’s 90% of whatever he raps about.

“Political Correctness” is not new. It was, at one point, unacceptable to walk into a fine establishment and inform the proprietor that you love a nice firm pair of tits in your face. 60 years ago, such a statement would get you throw out and possibly arrested under suspicion of public intoxication. But then something happened and I blame Woodstock and Nixon. And now I have to explain to a man 40 years my senior that no, you can’t casually mention to the staff here, many of whom are children, how you haven’t had a good fuck in a while. And then rant about the “Chinese who gave us the virus.” Can’t be that upset with them if you then refused to wear your mask for 20 minutes.

Triggering content should not have a blanket ban; trigger warnings are enough, and those who campaign otherwise need to understand the difference between helping people and taking away their agency. 13 Reasons Why inspired this one. Absolutely shitty show, sure, but it’s a choice to watch it knowing exactly what it contains.

Sasuke’s not a fucking INTJ, he’s an ISFP whose every decision is based off in-the-moment feelings and proves incapable of detailed and logical planning to accomplish his larger goals.

MCU critique manages to be both spot-on and pointless. Amazing stories have been told with these characters over the course of decades; but most of it is toilet paper. Expecting a Marvel movie to be a deeply detailed examination of American nationalism and imperialism painted with a colorful gauze of avant-garde film technique is like expecting filet mignon from McDonalds. Scarf down your quarter pounder or gtfo.

Disparagingly comparing the popularity and (marginal) success of BLM to another movement is anti-black. It is not only possible but also easy to ask for people’s support without throwing in “you all supported BLM for black people but won’t show support for [insert group]” how about you keep our name out your mouth? Black people owe the rest of the world nothing tbh until yall root out the anti-blackness in your own communities.

It is the personal demon/tragic flaw of every cis gay/bi/pan man to externalize and exorcize Shame: I’m talking about the innate compulsion to Shame, especially in the name of Pride and Progress. Shame for socioeconomic “success,” shame for status of outness, shame for fitness and health, shame for looks, shame for style and dress, shame for how one fits into the gender binary, shame for sexual positions and intimacy preferences, shame for fucking music tastes. Put down the weapon that They used to beat you. Becoming the Beater is not growth, it’s the worst-case scenario.

Works by minorities do not have to be focused on their marginalized identities. Some ladies want to ride dragons AND other ladies. The pressure on minorities to create the Next Great Minority Character Study that will inevitably get snuffed at the Oscars/Peabody Awards is some bullshit when straight white dudes walk around shitting out mediocre screenplays and books.

Canadians can stfu about how the US is handling COVID-19 actually. Love most of yall, but the number of Canadian snowbirds on vacation (VACATION??? VA.CAT.ION.) in the supposed “hotbed” of my region that I’ve had to inform our mask policies and social distancing to is ASTOUNDING. Incroyable! I guess your country has a sizable population of entitled, privileged, inconsiderate, wealthy, and ignorant people making things difficult for everyone, just like mine :)

No trick to eliminate glasses fog while wearing my mask has worked, not a single one, it actually has affected my job and work speed and is incredibly frustrating, and I have to deal with it and pretend it’s not a problem while still encouraging others to follow the rules for everyone’s safety and the cognitive dissonance is driving me insane.

It’s really really really not anti-Japanese... to be uncomfortable with the rampant pedophilia in manga and anime, and voice this. I really can’t compare western animation’s sneakier bullshit with pantyshots of a 12-year-old girl.

Most of the people in the cottagecore aesthetic/tag have zero interest in all the hard work that comes with maintaining an isolated property in the countryside, milking cows and tending crops before sunrise, etc. And that’s okay? They just like flowers and pretty pottery and homemade pastries. Idk where discourse about this came from.

You think mint chip ice-cream tastes like toothpaste because you’re missing a receptor that can distinguish the flavors, and that sucks for you. It’s a sort of “taste-blindness” that can make gum spicy to some while others can eat a ghost pepper without crying.

Being a spectacle for the oppressive class doesn’t make them respect us, it makes them unafraid of us. This means they continue to devour us, but without fear of our retaliation.

Only like 4 people on tumblr dot com are actually prepared for the full ramifications of an actual revolution. The rest of you just really imprinted onto Katniss, or grew up in the suburbs.

Straight crushes are normal. They’re people first, sexual orientation second. Can’t always know.

The road to body positivity is not easy, especially if what you desire is what you aren’t.

You’re actually personally responsible for not voluntarily bringing yourself into an environment that you know is not fit for you unless you have the resolve to manage it. Can’t break a glass ceiling without getting a few cuts. This one’s a shoutout to my homophobic temp coworkers who decided working a venue with a drag show would be a good idea. This is also is a shoutout to people who want to make waves but are surprised when the boat tips. And also a shoutout to people who—wait that’s it’s own controversial opinion hold up.

Straight people can and should stay the fuck out of gay bars and queer spaces. “yoUrE bEInG diVisiVe” go fuck yourself.

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stilinskishit · 4 years ago

Text

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 12

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison @purple286 @multifandxm353 @bralessandflawless @5secondsofmoxley

A/N: This didn’t have as much plot from the show because I added in a few scenes but I really like how this chapter turned out!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 12 - Pretty Boy

Season 2, Episodes 5, 6

Everyone decided that Stiles, Allison and Jackson would get Lydia to Scott and Ramie’s after school to try and keep her safe. Scott and Ramie were going to attempt to talk Derek into not killing Lydia, which ended up not working at all, because Derek had already sent Isaac and Erica to do the job for him. Ramie refused to believe Isaac would be listening to Derek, and trying to kill her best friend. She figured he would go along with it to appease Derek, but not actually go through with it. However, when Scott and Ramie finally showed up at their house, and Scott had to attack Isaac to get him away from their friends, Ramie realized Isaac’s intentions. She couldn’t even look at him when Scott threw him and Erica out onto the front lawn, Erica paralyzed from kanima venom, and Isaac knocked out cold by Scott. Ramie walked out of the porch after Scott as Derek let out a sigh, looking down at his betas. Allison and Stiles followed.

“I think I finally understand why you keep rejecting me Scott,” Derek called from the lawn. “You’re not an omega. You’re already an alpha of your own pack.”

Scott turned, looking at Allison, Ramie and Stiles, then back to Derek.

��But you know you can’t beat me,” Derek continued.

“I can hold you off until the cops get here,” Scott said, sirens beginning to come towards the house from a distance. Suddenly, a hissing noise caught everyone’s attention. Everyone looked up, Ramie, Scott, Stiles and Allison jumping down onto the front lawn to see up on the roof. Staring right at them was the kanima. It gave them a hiss, jumping everyone. Scott wrapped an arm around Allison’s waist and Stiles grabbed Ramie’s arm, pulling her slightly behind him. She clung to his arm, peering around him at the creature. Before anyone could say anything, it jumped off the roof and ran into the darkness.

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” A voice rang out from the porch. Lydia stood there, looking terrified.

“It’s Jackson,” Scott muttered, looking towards Derek. However, Derek had already taken off after him.

“We have to follow him,” Scott looked at Stiles. Stiles looked down at Ramie, as if asking permission.

“Go,” she told the two of them. “We’ll talk to Lydia.”

Without another word, Scott and Stiles ran to the jeep, jumping in and taking off down the road after Derek. Erica slowly sat up, the kanima venom wearing off. She elbowed Isaac in the side, who opened his eyes slowly, looking confused.

“Lydia let’s get you home, we’ll talk on the way,” Allison said. Lydia looked like she wanted to protest, but also still looked terrified, and followed Allison to the car.

“Ramie, I can explain,” Isaac stood up, walking towards her.

“I need to get Lydia home safe,” Ramie said, turning away from him and walking towards Allison’s car.

“But I-“

“I don’t want to talk to you right now Isaac,” Ramie turned, facing him. He stopped a few feet away. Ramie couldn’t look at him for more than a second, because the look on his face was heartbreaking. She turned again and walked to Allison’s car, and this time he didn’t follow. Allison drove in silence to Lydia’s house. Ramie could see Lydia’s hands visibly shaking as she played with the ends of her jacket. Allison took a deep breath as they pulled into Lydia’s driveway.

“I need you to promise you won’t say anything about what just happened,” she told Lydia, putting the car into park.

“I’ll promise not to say anything about what just happened if you can tell me what the hell just happened,” Lydia exclaimed, looking between Allison and Ramie.

“It’s complicated,” Ramie unbuckled, moving into the middle of the backseat so she could talk to them better.

“How about you start with why Derek was there, or where Jackson went, or what the hell is wrong with Erica?” Lydia fired back. Allison and Ramie exchanged a look. “What you can’t come up with a plausible lie?”

“Part of the reason why I’m asking is because Scott and I aren’t supposed to be together,” Allison said. “So it’s better if you just keep what you know to yourself.”

“Fine,” Lydia huffed, grabbing her purse off the floor. “I’ll keep what I know about you and your boyfriend to myself. Which is nothing.”

“Hey,” Allison grabbed Lydia’s arm as she tried to get out of the car. Lydia stopped, turning back towards her.

“Let me go.”

“Just for one second, please, just try to remember,” Allison pleaded.

“Remember what?” Lydia nearly yelled.

“Remember what it feels like. All of those times in school when you see him standing down the hall, and you feel like you cannot breathe until you’re with him,” Allison said. Ramie smiled, glad her brother had someone like Allison. For a second, someone flashed across her mind, and it wasn’t who Allison mentioned next. “Ramie you know what I mean, with Isaac.”

“Right, yeah,” Ramie said. “Or when you’re in class and you can’t stop counting down the minutes because you know you’ll see him in the hall when you’re done.”

“First of all, you have all your classes with Isaac, so that’s weird,” Lydia started. “And no, I’ve never felt like that.”

“But you’ve had boyfriends,” Allison said, thankfully ignoring Lydia’s first comment.

“Not like that,” Lydia said, opening the car door and leaving the other two girls in silence.

…

Ramie had Allison drop her off at Derek’s place rather than going home. She knew she needed to talk to Isaac and decided it was probably best to do it sooner rather than later. She entered the huge warehouse, finding Isaac sitting back to her on the couch. No one else was around, thankfully. He turned when he heard her approaching, and he looked like he had been crying.

“Hi,” he stood up, rubbing his hands over his eyes quickly. Ramie gave him a small smile, sitting down on the couch as he sat back down next to her. “Ramie I swear, I’m so sorry.”

“Please let me talk,” Ramie put a hand up and he fell silent. “I’m really fucking mad at you.”

“I know.”

“But I also know that you don’t really have complete control over what you do,” Ramie said. “I remember when Scott was first changed, his alpha tried to get him to kill many times.”

“I swear I wasn’t going to do it,” Isaac repeated. “I sent Erica upstairs because I knew I could never hurt Lydia, or anyone, really.”

“You attacked Stiles and Allison,” Ramie pointed out.

“Yeah, but I tried my best not to really hurt them. I just wanted them safe from Erica.”

“But you could’ve really hurt them,” Ramie said, frustrated. Isaac was quiet. “I just, I think I need some time Isaac.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked, his voice small.

“I don’t know,” Ramie said, quiet for a minute. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Erica was talking to me about you earlier. She said I was your anchor.” Ramie didn’t look up at Isaac, beginning to ramble. “And I know that Allison is Scott’s anchor, and I know she was saying a ton of things to just get under my skin but I just wanted to-“

“She wasn’t lying,” Isaac cut her off. Ramie looked to him for the first time, making eye contact. “You are. Derek told us to find an anchor so I’ve been thinking about you. It works really well.”

“Why me?”

“Because you were the first person to care about me in so long,” Isaac gave a small smile. “It’s just been me and my Dad for so long. I never really had friends because I was too scared to have anyone to my house. And no one really talks to the kid who didn’t talk to anyone. So when we started hanging out you really changed things for me. You were something positive in my life for the first time in so long. Derek told me Scott used Allison as an anchor so I thought I’d try it myself.”

Without thinking, Ramie threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. They sat there for a minute, just holding each other. Ramie pulled away first.

“I’m still really mad,” Ramie told him. “I need time. But I don’t hate you.”

Isaac nodded, giving her a sad smile. Before she could say anything else, her phone rang. It was Stiles, telling her she needed to get to a nearby club as soon as she could, and that it had something to do with Jackson. Ramie said a quick goodbye to Isaac and left, making it to the address Stiles had sent her within 10 minutes. There were police cars and ambulances everywhere, and a bunch of people, mainly guys, hanging out outside the club. She spotted Stiles’ jeep in the corner of the parking lot and headed over, finding Scott and Stiles bickering in the front seat as she walked closer.

“Do you really want your sister back there with naked Jackson?” Stiles said as she walked up.

“Naked Jackson?” Ramie said, leaning her head into the passenger window, jumping Scott slightly.

“Don’t ask,” Stiles put his hand up as Scott climbed into the backseat, grumbling. “Let’s get the hell out of here before one of my Dad’s deputies sees me.”

“Hate to break it to you Sti,” Ramie started, pointing toward’s Sheriff Stilinski’s car that just pulled up, directly facing Stiles’ jeep.

“Oh my god, shit, fuck, could this get any worse?” Stiles threw his hands in air, defeated. Jackson groaned from the backseat. “That was rhetorical!”

“C’mon, we need to get rid of him,” Ramie said to Stiles, opening the door and getting out, Stiles having no choice but follow.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Noah asked as Stiles and Ramie met him at the front of his car.

“Wh- It- It’s,” Stiles stuttered. “It’s a club, we’re clubbing. You know. At the club.”

“Not exactly your type of club,” Noah said, looking towards it.

“Well, Dad, I think we need to have a talk,” Stiles said.

“You’re not gay,” Noah deadpanned.

“Wh- I could be!” Stiles exclaimed, clearly offended.

“Not dressed like that,” Noah pointed at the gray striped hoodie Stiles was wearing.

“Have you seen how Scott dresses?” Ramie scoffed, and Stiles pointed at her, raising his eyebrows at his Dad.

“Scott’s gay?” Noah asked. “But Allison?”

“He’s bi,” Ramie shrugged. “Like me.”

“And me,” Stiles added, nodding. Ramie nearly choked, looking over at him. She couldn’t be sure if he was being serious or just trying to make an excuse for his Dad.

“Anyways, we were here for Danny,” Ramie lied, before either of the Stilinskis could say anything more. “He broke up with his boyfriend recently, we just wanted him to have a fun night.”

“You guys are good friends,” Noah smiled, and Stiles gave Ramie a thankful sideways glance. Noah turned and went to talk to the other officers at the scene and Stiles and Ramie made a break for it, back to the jeep.

While Stiles’ ideas were usually the plan they went with, they weren’t always the best ideas. However, sometimes they were the only thing that anyone could think of. This was one of those times. With a good majority of the police officers at the crime scene downtown, Stiles snuck into his Dad’s office and found the keys to one of the prison transport vans, then stole the van with Scott and drove it into the woods, chaining Jackson up in the back.

Since it was nearly 2am at that point, Ramie drove the jeep back to her house and got some sleep, and they decided she would come back early in the morning and let Scott go home for a few hours to sleep before school. Stiles insisted he was fine, he’d sleep in the front seat of the van if needed, and Ramie and him would skip school the next day to watch over Jackson. Both of them had good grades and could manage skipping, while Scott, who was nearly failing multiple classes, really needed to be at school. When Ramie got back to the spot in the woods where the boys were hiding early the next morning, Scott was sitting on a tree stump near the van, while Stiles snored in the front seat. Ramie knocked on the window, causing Stiles to jump out of a dead sleep, nearly falling onto the floor.

“Ready to check on pretty boy?” Ramie asked as Scott rode away in the jeep. She handed him the reusable cup she had filled for him, black iced coffee, just like she was drinking. It was convenient they had the same coffee order, because the would never forget what the other wanted.

“I’m doing good thanks for asking,” Stiles grinned, rubbing his eyes while sending Ramie a smirk. She rolled her eyes and shoved him, hitting the side of the van. He went to push her back but she ran to the back of the van, pulling on the door. “You think I left him back there with the door unlocked?”

Ramie sighed at him and stepped aside as he pulled keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and surveying Jackson for a second before stepping inside, Ramie following.

“Okay we got you some fo-,” Stiles said as he was sitting down, but he didn’t have the chance to finish as Jackson lunged towards them, but not getting very far as he was chained up.

“Let me go!” He yelled, and Stiles threw his arm out in front of Ramie, keeping her away from Jackson.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Stiles seethed at him, shoving the backpack he was holding in Ramie’s lap as he pointed a finger at Jackson. “And you know I put those pants on you, one leg at a time. Being up close and personal with your junk wasn’t exactly a highlight of my day. So don’t think this is fun for me either.”

“First off, you almost spilled my coffee, so watch it,” Ramie spoke up, trying to ease the tension between the two boys. “And second, we’re doing you a favor."

“This is doing me a favor?” Jackson spat, holding up his handcuffed hands.

“You’re killing people! To death!” Stiles nearly yelled, leaning towards Jackson. Ramie put a hand on his chest, pushing him backwards.

“Until we can figure out how to stop you we need to keep you here so you’re safe, and everyone else is safe,” Ramie explained, trying to keep her voice calm so Jackson wouldn’t continue to freak out.

“You think my parents aren’t going to look for me?” Jackson glared.

“Not if they don’t think anything’s wrong,” Stiles grinned, pulling Jackson’s phone out of his pocket. He showed Jackson the texts he had sent his parents, pretending to be him. Jackson let out an angry huff, slumping back on the bench as Stiles grinned.

…

Stiles finally had agreed to go home and get sleep once Allison and Scott showed up that evening to watch over Jackson. Ramie and Stiles had already gone through dealing with Jackson all day, trying to convince him that he was the kanima, and having to move the van to a different part of the woods in the middle of the day because the police were tracking Jackson’s phone. Scott insisted Ramie go home for awhile too, he said so she could sleep some as well, since she only slept a few hours the night before, but Ramie knew it was just because he wanted to be alone with Allison.

Stiles wouldn’t let Ramie drive back home, despite him being incredibly sleep deprived, and he also refused to drive her home, he said she would have to hang out at his house and nap there. He could be quite grumpy when he was overtired. Ramie followed him into his room and he collapsed on his bed, letting out a loud groan with his face in the pillows. Ramie sat down in his desk chair, checking her phone for the thousandth time. She hadn’t heard anything from Isaac. Of course, she asked him for space, and he was doing just that, but part of Ramie hoped he would try and reach out.

“What is with you today?” Stiles’ voice came suddenly from his bed. Ramie narrowed her eyes at him, not sure what he meant. “You’ve been checking your phone like it’s got a timer on it and a bomb will go off any second.”

“Oh, I just,” Ramie started, but Stiles cut her off.

“Isaac?” He asked, making brief eye contact before looking away. Ramie nodded. “Are you guys still, whatever you were?”

“Dating?” Stiles nodded, and Ramie continued. “I”m not sure. I’m really fucking mad at him for what he did. But I also remember how hard things were for Scott when he was first turned. He could barely control himself, and Derek said he learned quickly, faster than normal.”

“Well he tried to kill Lydia, and he nearly knocked me out, you should see the bruises I have from him,” Stiles sat up, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’m aware, Stiles,” Ramie spat back, not in the mood for his attitude.

“Then it should be a no brainer,” he said, getting up off of his bed and moving to his closet, tugging his sweatshirt off and grabbing his shirt from the back of his neck, pulling it off and throwing it towards his hamper, missing completely. His back was to her as he rummaged through his drawer and grabbed a shirt.

“It’s not that simple Stiles.”

“It’s not that simple?” Stiles turned, anger flashing over his face. “He was going to kill Lydia. Lydia. Your best friend, she’s, she’s…”

“She’s Lydia, I get it,” Ramie stood up, matching his angry body language. “The love of your life, Lydia.”

“That’s not what I-“

“Regardless of what you meant it’s not that simple, okay? He wasn’t going to hurt Lydia, and he only went after you and Allison because he wanted to keep you two away from Erica. And he has a hard time with shifting still because he just got turned. He didn’t mean to hurt either of you.”

Stiles scoffed at Ramie’s words, clearly not believing her. He turned his back to her again, pulling his pants down his legs and pulling on sweatpants before muttering something that sounded like, “whatever.”

“Whatever? Seriously Stiles? You don’t believe me?” Ramie was yelling at this point, thankful Noah wasn’t home. “What happened to us always trusting each other?”

“It’s hard to trust you when you’re fraternizing with the enemy!” Stiles yelled back, turning towards Ramie and stepping near her.

“Isaac is not the enemy! He’s a guy who’s had a really fucking hard life and thought that Derek could help him. And now I’m his anchor so I can’t just drop him! And god forbid Stiles I actually have feelings for someone and let someone be part of my life that isn’t you or my fucking brother!” Ramie stepped towards Stiles again, waving her hands in the air angrily.

“You’re his anchor?” Stiles said quietly. Ramie huffed. Out of all of that, of course that was the one thing he commented on.

“Yes Stiles. I know it’s hard to believe someone likes your best friend’s lame sister enough for that but,” Ramie started but Stiles cut her off. “That’s not how I meant it,” he insisted.

“Well that’s how it sounded,” Ramie replied instantly. He went quiet, looking at the floor. “We both need to sleep some. We have to go back and switch with Scott and Allison at midnight.”

Stiles nodded slightly, and moved to his dresser, silently grabbing another t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He held them out to Ramie. She could feel his eyes on her as she grabbed them from him and grabbed her phone off his desk, not looking towards him as she left the room. She went down the hall into the guest room and closed the door loudly, so he knew she wouldn’t be coming back to his room. The second the door closed tears started falling. She wasn’t sure if she was overtired, overwhelmed, confused, upset, or all of the above. But she laid in the guest room bed and tears fell until she fell asleep.

#teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski x oc #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf one shot #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #isaac lahey #scott mccall

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jjmaybankx · 4 years ago

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WHY DO I STILL » STILES STILINSKI » NINE

masterlist

trailer

< six

< seven

< eight

✧☾✧

Scott and Allison were now Beacon Hills resident Romeo and Juliet.

Kate Argent was dead. Derek Hale was the new Alpha. Chris Argent wanted Allison to stop seeing Scott.

But no one knew what was going on with Lydia Martin.

Haven walked back into the hospital holding a bag full of sandwiches for three and a cup holder with three coffees. It had been a long weekend, and Stiles refused to go home despite it being late. She stayed with him the whole time, using his Jeep—which she didn't even question how it got back to them—to get food. Her mom had gone home already, so she picked something up for herself, Stiles, and Melissa McCall, who was on the night shift that day.

Stiles was passed out on one of the visitor chairs with a balloon attached to his hand.

Haven laughed, placing the things down on one of the little tables by the chairs, going to shake Stiles's shoulders.

"Stiles," she said softly, and he only stirred.

"No, no, you first," he mumbled. "Me first?" He started to snore.

Haven shook her head, smiling. She left him there, deciding to just let him embarrass himself and get some rest. She looked around to see Melissa, who walked over to give her a hug.

"Hey, sweetie," she said. "How're you?"

"I'm good," Haven nodded. She went through the bag, pulling out a sandwich and then grabbing one of the drinks. "For you."

"Thanks, honey," she said. "Have you—"

The door to Lydia's door opened, both of them turning to see Mr. Martin come out. He looked at Stiles, sprawled out on three chairs as Melissa walked over to him.

"He's been here all night," Mr. Martin concluded.

"He's been here all weekend," Melissa replied. "They both have."

"Stiles, wake up," Haven said again, shaking his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered and he looked confused for a second, and Haven stepped back and he reorientated himself and got used to his surroundings. He smacked the balloon in his hands a few times before he sat up straight, smiling at Haven.

"Morning, pretty," he said, leaning back in the chair, his eyes still looking heavy as he yawned.

"It's night time, idiot," she said, her cheeks growing warm as she handed him his food and drink.

"What were you asking?" Haven asked, turning to Melissa as Mr. Martin wandered off, likely to get food.

"I was wondering if you and Scott have talked," Melissa replied, walking over.

"About what?"

"Come here," Melissa said, pulling her to the side. She looked deep in thought, like she was wondering how to start her what she wanted to ask. She had helped raise the girl standing in front of her. "I talked to Scott before the dance about how you feel about him."

Haven blinked rapidly as she looked at the nurse in front of her, her eyes going wide.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I just... he was talking about how Allison was the only woman in the world, and I might've just... told him to look around and see that there were others out there," Melissa said to her.

"I didn't even know you knew."

"Mothers intuition," Melissa shrugged. "The same way your mother has an intuition about him." She pointed at Stiles, who noticed their glances and waved.

There was a scream from Lydia's room, and Stiles bolted up.

"What the hell was that?" Melissa asked as everyone scrambled into her room, Stiles yelling out Lydia's name and pushing past everyone else to open the bathroom door.

Haven and Lydia both looked to the open window, the only way she could have possibly left.

When Noah came down to the hospital, Stiles gave a description of Lydia as if he had it memorized. "Five foot three, green eyes, fair-skinned, and her hair is actually strawberry blonde."

"Is that right?" Noah asked.

"Yeah," nodded Stiles, and his dad placed a hand on the back of his neck, bringing him away from the others.

"You friends with that kid?" Mr. Martin asked Haven.

"Best."

"And take Haven, too. I saw her bike outside," Noah said loudly, concluding his quiet take with his son.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at her, and she scurried to his side.

✧☾✧

Haven climbed into the backseat while Stiles handed Scott a hospital gown.

"This is the one she was just wearing?" Scott asked her, and Stiles nodded. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt her. Not again."

"You've been doing lots of hurting when it comes to the girls important to me," Stiles muttered.

Scott peered into the backseat at Haven.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," she said awkwardly, pressing her lips to a thin line. She didn't know how to feel now that he knew she had liked him.

"Do we need to talk about it—"

"I'd prefer it if we didn't...?" she replied.

"Got it," he nodded.

"All right, just shove the thing in your face and let's find her," Stiles said to Scott.

He started the car engine and yelped, "Wow," as Allison's face illuminated with the headlights.

She ran to the passenger seat window, and Scott asked her what she was doing there.

"Someone's gonna see us," Scott warned her, and Haven grabbed both of the passenger seats to hold herself up, her head peaking through the chairs.

"I don't care—She is my best friend, and we need to find her before they do," replied Allison.

"I can find her before the cops can," Scott said.

"How about before my father does?"

"He knows?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah. I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs," Allison informed them, and the trio of best friends shared a solemn look.

"Search party."

"It's more like a hunting party," Allison and Haven said in unison.

Haven sat back down and opened the backseat closest to Allison, urging her to come inside.

"Get in loser, we're going Lydia looking," Haven said to her.

Allison smirked, getting into the backseat next to her.

Roscoe's tires screeched as Stiles pulled out of the hospital parking lot quickly, his nerves everywhere at the thought of Lydia being lost, and the Argents finding her first.

"All right, but if she's turning, would they actually kill her?" Stiles asked Allison.

"I don't know, they won't tell me anything," she replied. "Okay? All they say is we'll talk after Kate's funeral when the others get here."

"What others?" Haven and Stiles asked.

"I don't know," Allison said. "They won't tell me that either."

"Okay, your family's got some serious communication issues they need to work on," Stiles commented, earning a whack in the head from Haven.

Stiles glanced back for a second, rolling his eyes. "Haven Salazar!"

"What?"

"Buckle your ass into the seat, now," he said, realizing she was leaning forward, sitting on the edge of the seat to be closer to him and Scott while they both talked.

"You, too, Allison," he muttered, shaking his head. Then, he yelled, "Scott, are we going the right way?"

Scott's head was outside of the Jeep like a dog's as he sniffed, trying to catch Lydia's scent.

"Take the next right!" the teen wolf responded.

"Hm, we're passing the cemetary," commented Haven.

"Is your boyfriend working?" Allison asked.

"I think so."

"Guys!" Stiles scolded them. "Can we not talk about Haven's boyfrie—BOYFRIEND?" He swerved, earning a yell from Scott who almost hit a tree branch. "Since when in the HOLY HELL was Isaac Lahey your boyfriend?"

"Okay, not boyfriend," Haven said with a blush. "My friend who's a boy, that's easier to call him my boyfriend then the dude I'm seeing?"

"It's really late, he'd really be working this late?" Allison asked as they ignored Stiles's outburst.

"Yeah, his dad's hard on him like that," she said, shaking her head. "He was going to come down to the hospital to bring me food, but he said his dad wanted him to help out at the cemetery. I don't know if he'd still working, though."

"Awe, you two are cute."

"Thanks."

✧☾✧

Haven stood in the front of the group with Stiles's, a hand holding onto the sleeve of his hoodie as they walked through the woods towards the Hale house.

"She came here?" Stiles asked, turning to Scott. "You sure?"

"Yeah, this is where the scent leads."

Stiles grabbed Haven's hand, keeping her close to him as he asked Allison and Haven, "Well, has Lydia ever been here?"

"Not with me," Allison shook her head.

"Me either," Haven told him.

"Maybe she came here on instinct, like she was looking for Derek," Allison reasoned.

"You mean... looking for an alpha," Scott added.

"Wolves need a pack, right?" she asked.

"Not all of them," Scott said.

"But would she have been drawn to an alpha? It it an instinct to be part of a pack?"

Haven and Stiles kept walking ahead of them while they stopped to discuss packs. Haven wrapped her free arm around Stiles's arm, letting herself completely cling to his side as they moved.

"So... you really like this Lahey guy, huh?" Stiles asked. "It's not just to prove a point about Scott?"

"Isaac's really sweet to me," she told him. "And he's normal. He's not connected to this. It feels nice to be around him."

Stiles nodded quietly, before saying, "Well, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks."

Stiles let go of her hand and started moving aside leaves.

"Ooh, hey, look at this," he said, crouching down as he found something. "You see this?"

Allison and Haven crouched down with him and he held a wire in his hand.

"I think it's a tripwire," Stiles said, lifting it up.

Haven turned around, putting her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter as she watched something tie around Scott's leg, pulling him up into the air. She held her gut, laughing at him as he struggled.

"Stiles."

"Yeah, buddy?"

The other two in the group turned around, too, to see Scott in the air.

"Oh..." Stiles said, realizing what he had done.

"Next time you see a tripwire... don't trip it," Scott said.

"Definitely trip it," Haven countered, nodding as she looked at Stiles and Allison. Allison nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, noted," Stiles said as Allison giggled with Haven.

They walked forward to help Scott, but he put his hands up to stop them, "Wait wait wait wait wait, someone's coming. Hide. Go!"

Stiles grabbed Allison and Haven, pulling them away from Scott and into hiding.

✧☾✧

The next morning, Haven arrived at the cemetery after getting a text from Isaac that he had fallen into one of the holes the previous night and was being questioned by the sheriff. He also asked her to bring her lightest shade of foundation or concealer to school, but instead she asked her mom to drop her off at the cemetery.

"What're you doing here?" the curly haired boy asked when he saw Haven walking over to him. "I told you I'd be late, not to come here."

Noah looked taken aback when he saw her hug Isaac. He was also confused as to why she wasn't on her way to school with his idiot son driving her.

"You two know each other?"

"Hi, Dad," she said to Noah.

"He's your father?" Mr. Lahey asked, looking at Haven and Issac with a raised eyebrow.

"He's my friend's dad," replied Haven as Isaac kept an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She rubbed circles on his back, being able to hear his fast heat beat from her spot at his side.

"You work for your father, Isaac?" Noah asked him.

"When he's not in school," Mr. Lahey said, "Where he needs to be in twenty minutes."

Isaac was looking down, and Haven just kept rubbing his back to try to sooth his nerves.

"Yeah, I understand that, so does she," Noah said, looking at Haven. "But I've got a missing teenage girl girl, and our K-9 unit led us here. She's not wearing any clothes, and if she's out here tonight, and the temperature really drops..."

"I'm sorry, I—I didn't see anything," Isaac said, shaking his head.

"Trust me," his dad said, letting out a sound that sounded like a scoff and a laugh. "If he saw a naked girl outside a computer screen, he'd remember."

Isaac looked down again, his dad upsetting him. Haven let out a deep inhale and exhale while Isaac bit his lip, and she leaned closer into him. He put his chin on her head, and she could hear him trying to control his breathing.

"How'd you get that black eye, Isaac?" Noah asked.

Haven's head perked up, looking at him better. He had been looking down the entire time, she hadn't even noticed. She reached up to hold his face, and she got confused when he said, "School."

He didn't have that black eye at the dance, and there was no way he got hurt at school over the weekend.

"School fight?" Noah asked, not believing him.

"Nah, lacrosse," he lied.

"Lacrosse? You play for Beacon Hills?"

"Yeah," Isaac whispered.

"My son plays for the team. Well, I mean, he's on the team. He doesn't technically play..." Noah trailed off. "Not yet, anyways."

"Yeah, I saw your son on Friday at the dance," Isaac said, but his gaze was somewhere else. When Haven followed it, there was nothing there but some trees. Noah followed.

"Something wrong, Isaac?"

"No. Oh, no, sorry," he shook his head. "I was just remembering, I actually have a morning practice to get to."

"Just one more question," Noah said. "You guys get many grave robberies here?"

"A few," Isaac said. "Usually, they just take stuff like jewelry."

"What's this one take?"

"Her liver," he said.

"How did you get here, Haven?" Noah asked, knowing that the girl didn't drive. "Stiles didn't take you here, did he?"

"My mom dropped me off," she replied.

"Do you need a ride to school?"

"I can take her," Isaac said, and Noah nodded.

"Alright. Stay safe, kids."

They stopped in front of Isaac's car, and she looked up at him. She grabbed his face, examining his eye.

"You didn't have this at the dance," she said, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. "Is this why you wanted my makeup?"

He nodded, grabbing her hands off of his face and holding them in front of him.

"What happened, Isaac?" she asked.

He looked back at his dad but stayed silent. She nodded in understanding and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm here for you," she said the tall boy.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Let's get you to school, yeah?"

"And you to practice before Coach flips out."

✧☾✧

Haven sat with Isaac outside of her first period after his morning practice, touching up the concealer that had wiped off after he showered.

"My house is always open, you know," she said to him, retracting her hand when he winced. "Sorry."

"It's okay, go ahead," he said, and he continued to blend the makeup into his skin.

"If it ever gets so bad you can't take it, my mom wouldn't mind you staying with us," she offered.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he asked her.

"Because I like you," she said.

A small smile grew on his face, and he nodded. "I like you, too."

✧☾✧

Haven was with Allison by her locker, recording as she opened her locker to reveal the dress Scott left.

"Why are you recording?" Allison laughed at her, opening the note Scott left.

"For keepsakes," she replied, hitting the stop button.

"Nice dress," the guy next to them said.

"Nice camera," Allison complimented him back, smiling.

"Not her sister, her aunt," someone said behind them, making both girls stop moving to listen. "The one who murdered all those people."

"You mean the crazy bitch who killed all those people."

"Yeah, the fire, all those animal attacks—it was her aunt."

"Are you kidding? I sit next to her in English."

Allison, Haven, and the guy all listened in with frowns.

"Find a new seat," the other one said, both of them laughing.

Allison exhaled, and Haven slammed on one of the closed lockers and turned around to see stunned looks on the girls' faces and Allison.

"Why don't you two shut the fuck up before you'll need to find new noses, too."

"Aren't you dating the guy who fell into a cemetery last night?" one of them asked, crossing her arms. "What a freak."

Haven's eyes narrowed down on them and stepped forward, ready to strike one of them, but Allison slammed her locker shut and grabbed Haven.

"I'd think twice before opening your ugly mouthes again," Haven threatened them as Allison pulled her away.

Scott pulled them into a classroom, and Haven took a few steps back from them, letting Scott console her. She was crying, wiping her eyes. Haven sat down on one of the seats, trying to calm herself down because everything in her was telling her to go back out there and hit them.

Scott opened the door, letting Allison go outside first after he calmed her down, and then he turned to his best friend.

He sighed, sitting down on the desk next to her.

"I feel like it's been so long since we're actually sat down together and just talked," he said honestly.

She chuckled and nodded, pulling her hair out of her face.

"How are you, Hav?" he asked her, looking at her as he fumbled with his fingers.

"I've been adapting," she said honestly. "I think I'm getting used to the whole sci-fi movie we're living in now. Um... about what your mom told you before the dance—"

"I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner," Scott cut her off, and she looked at him confused. "I was so caught up in thinking you and Stiles had a thing for each other, I didn't even stop for a second to see the signs that were obviously there."

"It's okay," she said honestly with a shrug. "I didn't tell you, you didn't notice, it's three years later, and we're both into other people."

"You've liked me for three years, and I didn't notice?" Scott exclaimed, and Haven laughed.

"I like this," she admitted. "That we can talk about it without it being awkward."

"We used to take baths together when we were little, Hav. I don't think anything can make things awkward for us," he said, and he reached over to grab her hand, squeezing it. "Thank you for sticking with me and Stiles for this long."

"Thank you for letting me."

"So... you and Lahey, huh? I swear I thought you and Stiles would end up together. Um... are you gonna... later today is the, uh..."

"I'll be there for Allison," Haven nodded. "She's become one of my best friends. With Lydia missing, I wouldn't miss today for the world. I got her, Scott."

"Thank you."

✧☾✧

Reporters swarmed the Argents and Haven as they got to the cemetery, shouting questions and snapping photos. Allison and Haven were walking in between Chris and his wife, trying to act as barricades for the two teens as they went to Kate's grave. Noah came up behind them, holding off the reporters from getting any closer.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Chris said.

"Well, it wasn't my idea," replied Mrs. Argent.

"I tried telling him," Chris said. "But he insisted on making a point of it."

"Well, if he insisted, then he can deal with this when he gets here."

"Who?" Allison asked.

"Just... sit down, sweethearts," Mrs. Argent said as she and her husband directed the two girls to their seats. "Thank you, Haven, for being here to support Allison today."

"Always," Haven nodded.

✧☾✧

MALIYAH THOUGHTS!! — this story is gonna be a sloooow burn, and we can see from the fact that she's with someone else LMAOO

#jjmaybankx; why do i still?#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine

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justauthoring · 6 years ago

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No Reason To (21/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: SURPRISE!! I couldn’t wait until Saturday (or even Friday, lol) so I decided to just post this part early!! I’ve already started working on part 22, so that should still be up this Saturday as we fall back into routine :) anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter! I’m super freaking proud of it, so please let me know what you thought!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 03x17 and 03x18

“Okay, Stiles... We don’t know-”

“It was my handwriting!”

Biting your lip, you turn to Stiles with wide eyes, your feet halting to a stop upon his outburst. It’s not that you blamed him -- he had every right to be upset and panicked like he was. But you needed to keep a level head about this sort of thing. Think rationally through it. There had to be an explanation as to why it was Stiles’ handwriting up on that chalkboard.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispers, his voice shaky as he dips his head in shame. His eyes lower to his hands, which won’t stop shaking, and your gaze follows his own. Ignoring the racing of your heart pounding against your chest, you take a step forward, setting your hand over Stiles in an attempt to calm him. It pulls his eyes on yours once again, and hesitantly, you move your hand to his cheek, cupping it.

“It’s okay,” you reassure. “It’ll be okay.”

Stiles exhales heavily, “it was my handwriting, Y/N. I had the key. How do we explain that?”

Sighing, your shoulders fall. You didn’t have an explanation for that. The gears in your head were working rapid to do so, but it just didn’t make any sense. Why did Stiles have the key? Why was it his handwriting on that chalkboard? How had he even gotten the key in the first place? These questions run rampant in your mind, never easing you.

“We’ll figure it, okay?” You attempt to soothe Stiles, your thumb stroking across his cheek, your eyes never leaving his. “We’ll tell Scott... he can help us.”

Stiles nods, and the two of you pull apart, as if realizing how close you’d become for the first time. Meeting his eyes one final time, the two of you continue to make your way into the school, in alert for Scott. And, as if your brother can read your mind, he appears before the both of you. By his stature, he seems just as urgent to talk to you two as well.

But, Stiles speaks up before he can. “Scott,” he calls, briefly glancing your way before setting his hand on Scott’s shoulder and pulling him in step with the both of you. “Come on,” he urges, his step never slowing, even as your brother glances back at you in great confusion. “You know that key I talked to you about last night?”

Scott nods his head.

“It’s the key to the chemistry closet,” Stiles explains, and it’s then that you realize he’s leading the both of you exactly there. To the chemistry classroom. “Last night Y/N said she saw phosphors on the key, and about it having chemicals on it, okay?”

When Scott meets your eyes, you nod. “Phosphors are reactants to the UV light, like that black light party last night.”

Stiles takes a sharp turn to the right upon arriving at the chemistry classroom. He hastily grabs a hold of the door knob, pulling it open as he shuffles backwards, continuing to explain himself to Scott. “And so that made me think of the chemistry closet and the fact that someone had to let Barrow in...”

Stiles words trail, and he suddenly halts to a stop. Brows furrowing in confusion, you turn your head to the chalkboard, your lips parting when you realize what Stiles has seen. The writing, the chemical compounds that had spelled out Kira’s name, has been erased.

Your face tenses in bewilderment, and you take a step back, lips parting. “It’s gone,” you whisper, meeting Stiles’ eyes in disbelief. “It’s gone... how... how can it be gone?”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles breathes, shuffling backwards as he pulls his keys out of his back pocket. “Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses, and you nod your head, moving to stand behind him as he turns to the chemistry closet. “I still have the key.”

Your reassurance soon dwindles when the sound of the chemistry closet unlocking never resonates. Instead, you continue to hear that jingle of keys until Stiles slowly turns back to face you and your brother, his gaze remaining stuck on his ring of keys as he hastily searches through them. “I had it here this morning,” you hear him mumble to himself. “I swear to God, I had it this morning.”

Shaking your head, you take a step forward, leaning over Stiles’ shoulder as you reach forward, looking through his keys yourself. Like Stiles says, it isn’t there anymore.

“I had it last night,” Stiles murmurs, turning to look at you. “Right? We came here and--”

You nod, without hesitation. “Yes, Stiles, you had it.”

“The key?” Scott questions, finally speaking up.

“Yeah, I showed it to you, right?” Stiles questions, “didn’t I show it to you?”

“No,” Scott mumbles with a slight shake of his head. “You just told me about it. I never actually saw it.”

“Well, I saw it,” you remind, meeting your brother’s gaze before it flickers back towards Stiles. “I did. I told you it had phosphors on it.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Stiles turns his attention back on the chalkboard, making his way over to it. “We were here a couple of hours ago,” he explains, gesturing towards you and himself. “And the message left to Barrow spelling Kira’s name was right there on the board in my handwriting and I had the key to the chemistry closet.”

“So you,” Scott speaks up, pointing towards Stiles. “Unlocked the chemistry closet so Barrow could hide in it from the cops and then you wrote him a message to kill Kira?”

Shaking your head, you run your hands through your hair, distressed.

“I know how it sounds,” Stiles whispers, his voice shaky. He blinks, and then, he pulls something out of his pocket -- a piece of paper. “But look at this. The news report that came out about Barrow when they caught him, okay? About the shrapnel bomb that he used.” He holds the paper out for Scott to see. “See this? See what he did? He put nuts, bolts and screws. And then he hid the bomb and the detonator in a box that he wrapped as a birthday present. What does that sound like to you?”

“Like coach,” you answer for Scott, your voice eerily quiet. “The joke you two played on coach.”

“That was my idea,” Stiles reminds. “You remember? That was my idea. That’s no coincidence. It can’t be.”

Scott stammers for a moment, “I... I don’t want to sound like i’m trying to tell you that you’re wrong. But I don’t think you’re trying to kill people either.”

“Scott’s right, okay?” You speak up, taking a step towards Stiles and meeting his eyes. Your gaze is sincere as you meet his, without a doubt of hesitance in you. “You wouldn’t kill anyone, or try to either.”

Shaking his head, Stiles turns back towards the chalkboard. “It was here. It was all here.”

“Dude, are you feeling okay?” Scott questions Stiles, “you’re looking really tired.”

“Yeah, i’m fine,” Stiles whispers, “I just haven’t been sleeping really...”

“Why don’t you go home?” You offer with a small smile. “Take a sick day or something.”

Stiles nods, albeit hesitantly. Taking that as your conformation, you take step forward, setting your hand on Stiles shoulders, pulling his eyes on you once more as you smile reassuringly up at him. “I can go with you,” you offer, hoping that it might give him some peace. “Make sure that you are able to get some sleep.”

“I need you here, Y/N.”

You blink at Scott’s words, turning to look at him with furrowed brows. He just shakes his head. “I just need you here, okay?” It’s clear that whatever’s the matter he doesn’t want to tell Stiles, obviously wanting the boy to go home and get, what seems like, some much needed sleep. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from arguing, hating the fact that you have to leave Stiles’ side when he clearly isn’t doing so well.

“Okay,” you nod reluctantly, “at least let me walk him to his car?”

Scott nods, and then, you’re leading Stiles out of the classroom, your hand slipping into his own.

“Magical ninja’s?”

“Yeah, they’re like magic... ninjas...”

With a heavy sigh, you rub your hands over your face in distress. This day seemed to just be getting worse and worse.

“And they’re after those supernatural?”

“Yup.”

“Which means you?”

“And you.”

You nod at Scott’s words, blinking as you turn your head over your shoulder. “And why are the twins following you everywhere?”

“We’ve already been marked by them,” Aiden explains, offering a tight-lipped smile your way. “Along with Derek, Lydia and Isaac. Which means, that leaves only you and Scott.”

Blinking, you raise a brow; “so?”

“We’re keeping him safe,” Ethan explains.

You snort, shaking your head. “This about you wanting to be in my brother’s pack?”

“It’s about keeping Scott safe,” Ethan dismisses your question. As his eyes meet yours, he pauses a moment, as if realizing; “and I guess, you too.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t need your protection. I can handle myself quite fine thank you.”

“Not against magical ninjas,” Aiden snaps.

You turn to Scott, who just helplessly shrugs.

“You’re not following me around,” you warn, turning back to face the two. “Scott might be fine with it--”

“--I’m not--”

“--But I don’t need you two following me around like lost puppies,” you continue, despite Scott’s interjection. “I don’t like either of you.”

“Well, we don’t like you either,” Aiden shrugs, sending you once again a feigned smile.

“Good,” you nod, pleased.

“Good.”

Turning your gaze forward, you offer a short wave Scott’s way, before turning towards your next class. You take your seat wordlessly, pulling out your books and setting them on your desk. When you’re all settled, it’s then you notice Aiden in the seat next to yours.

Almost instantly, you groan.

“What did I just tell you?” You huff, glaring at him.

“Didn’t say I was going to listen.”

Running into your house behind Derek, your eyes widen at the sight of your mother and father, backed away in a corner, your father limp on the ground. The growl that escapes past Derek’s lips barely registers within you as you see the bleeding wound on your father’s chest.

You’re struck with a feeling you haven’t felt towards your father in a long time. Concern.

It’s almost like time slows, and you meet your mother’s fleeting gaze for only a second as she lines the space before her with the mountain ash to protect herself and your father from the Oni. You can’t seem to move, almost like you’re stuck frozen in that one spot, hovering by your front door.

It isn’t until you hear Scott’s raspy and panicked voice call out for your name do you snap out of your stupor. You blink, meeting his eyes as he stares at something past your shoulder. The chaos around you seems to bleed into your attention as you spin around, coming face to face with what you assume Scott had called “magical ninjas”. And it’s after you.

Your eyes lower to it’s sword, watching as it takes a dangerous step towards you. Without a second thought, your eyes flash and you send it flying to your left, instantly moving away from your spot by the door and rushing over to where your father and mother are. In a instant, you feel the presence of the Oni from before and turning, you shoot your hand forwards, knocking it back once again.

It lunges towards you, whipping it’s sword out and you manage to duck just in time. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Derek, the twins and Scott inching the Oni’s back out the house, and it all clicks. Ducking once again to avoid a sword in your chest, you knock the Oni before you back, eventually sending it flying through the door you’d just entered from.

“Mom, do it! Now!”

Taking her chance, your mother leaps from her spot next to your father, mountain ash in hand. She chucks it to the ground, right by the door you’d just sent the Oni that had been attacking you through. After the cloud fades, a line of mountain ash stops the Oni before you from entering.

With haste, you kneel before your father, feeling helpless as you hover above him.

You’d thought, long ago, that your father had seized to be someone important to you. After everything he’d done and was continuing to do, you believed yourself incapable of ever feeling concern towards him. And yet, now, as you hovered over his profusely bleeding wound, your hands shaking and your eyes wide, all you can feel is the immeasurable amount of terror that floods through your body.

“Daddy?”

You receive a grunt of response, causing your little head to peek past the wall of the stairs, only to find your father sprawled out on the floor by the couch. It almost looks like he just missed the couch itself, his chest rising and falling rapidly with a thick coat of sweat covering his forehead.

Even though you are young, you can tell that your father is not alright.

“Y/N,” Rafael calls, his voice slurred. “Is that you? Did I wake you?”

Stepping off the last step, you gather the courage to make your way over to your father. Your small feet pad against the hardwood floor as you narrowly miss the bit of puke just above where your father lies. He attempts to push himself up at the sight of you, only truly making it halfway so his back is leaning against the couch behind him. You stand before him, your hands clasped nervously before you as you stare down at your father.

You wonder, a distant thought in that back of your mind, if you should grab your mother. She would know what to do.

“I’m sorry,” you father whispers, and it’s hard to make out his words through the slur of them. When his breath hits you, your face twists at the smell that wavers off, taking a small step back.

“Why are you not in bed with mommy?”

“Daddy had a late night,” your father explains, his eyes heavy as they continue to fall shut.

“Should I get mommy?”

“No, no,” your father is quick to oppose to the idea. His hand quickly raises, beckoning you forward as he continuously shakes his head. You listen to your fathers beckoning, moving so you’re sat before him, leaning onto him heavily as you envelop yourself in the warmth. The smell of his breath still causes your face to twist up in distaste, but you eventually become use to it. “Here, sit with me.”

You don’t say anything in response, and for a while silence is the only thing heard in the dead of the night.

You want to go back to bed. You want to crawl into your bunk bed that you share with your brother. You wonder why he gets to sleep through this while you have to deal with your father, sprawled out on the floor. Night and night again, he wakes you up with his thumping, and then keeps you there all night, burdening you with a lack of sleep for the day ahead of yourself.

“Daddy loves you, you know that?”

You nod your head, without hesitance.

“And he’s sorry.”

When you turn your head to look at him, tears are welling in his eyes. It isn’t long before they’re pouring across his cheeks. His hand raises, shaky, and he sets it on your smooth cheek.

“Why is daddy sorry?”

“Because he does terrible, terrible things.”

“Scott, this isn’t good!”

You blink, the memory fading.

In the next second, Scott is before you, falling next to Melissa as your father mumbles under his breath; “need to call for backup.”

“How bad is it?” Scott questions, his brows drawn in in concern.

Brushing strands of loose hair behind her ear, Melissa swallows thickly, preparing herself mentally. “From the way that his arm is rotated, the tendon looks torn,” she explains. As her words fall past her lips, your eyes fall on his arm, your fists clenched tightly. “He could be on his way to a collapsed lung.”

“Mom,” Scott calls with a shake of his head. “Those things, they’re not going to leave until the sun’s up.”

“At the rate he’s bleeding, he’s not gonna make it that long.”

You hate it. After everything, you hate the way your heart seems to plummet to the pit of your stomach. Why should you care if your father dies? It’s not like he’s ever been a father to you...

“Dad, please!”

His grip is tight, bruising. But if it wasn’t for his grip, you would’ve fallen off your own feet and fallen flat on your face. His speed is relentless, and he doesn’t seem to care that you’re barely able to keep up with it as he yanks you along, leading you into the living room.

The two of you are home alone. Your moms at the hospital, and Scott’s still at school -- your dad pulled you out early.

“Please, dad, it’s one bad grade! Scott gets bad grades all the time--!”

“But you are different,” your father bellows, finally letting go and spinning to face you. His eyes are blazing, filled with such rage you find yourself afraid -- even of your own father. You don’t understand why he’s so angry over such a little thing. It was a bad grade. You’re only in the fourth grade anyway... “You are suppose to be different. Better.”

“I don’t understand...”

The words leave your lips in a whisper, filled with utter bafflement.

“Useless,” your father hiss, turning away from you in a haste. “Utterly useless.”

“Father, plea-”

Your words are interrupted by a sharp sting across the cheek. It causes you to stumble back, your hand instantly falling to you cheek in disbelief as your eyes flicker upwards to meet that of your father’s.

You tell yourself that he doesn’t mean it. That even though this isn’t the first time he’s ever hit you, that it isn’t because he means it. Or because he doesn’t love you. He’s drunk. Not in his right mind. Not thinking clearly. If your dads job wasn’t as hard and he drank less, than he wouldn’t hit you. Ever.

Yet, the sting won’t fade and you can’t stop the tears from filling in your eyes as you father stares down at you, his hand raised as if to hit you again.

“You are better than this.”

You don’t say a word. You don’t want another slap.

“You will be better than this.”

“We got to get him to a hospital.”

Never had he been a father to you.

“Should we call Stiles’ dad?”

“I don’t know,” Melissa breathes, “is that going to just get more people hurt?”

“Maybe,” Scott sighs, his face tensing in distress. “I don’t think bullets work on them.”

“Then what does?”

“Guys. We have a problem.”

Raising your head, you turn to look at the open doorway in front of you, your eyes widening when you realizing why Ethan sounds as apprehensive as he does.

The two Oni you’d locked out through the use of mountain ash, seemed to be, somehow, pushing their way past the barrier.

“Scott, we’re gonna have to do something.”

As if Derek’s words are a trigger, the second he finishes speaking them, the Oni before you break the barrier. They step through, swords at the ready, and you shuffle on your feet, readying yourself for what’s to come.

“Don’t do anything.”

You blink, your head whipping around to turn to look at your brother with narrowed eyes. “Scott?”

“Is he serious?” Aiden questions, disbelief flooding his voice.

“I said don’t do anything.”

“Scott,” you call once again, taking a step towards him. “What are you talking about?”

Meeting your eyes, Scott nods. “It’ll be okay,” he assures, setting his hand on your shoulder. “They won’t hurt you, or me,” he then pauses, turning his head over his shoulder to look at Kira who’s stood behind the two of you. Holding his hand out towards her, he nods his head. “Or you.”

Hesitantly, she sets her hand in Scott’s, grasping it.

“Trust me.”

Before you know it the two are stepping towards the Oni, and you find your feet moving, almost of their own accord, following after them. You pass by Derek, who grabs a hold of your wrist hastily, pulling your eyes on his. His gaze is flooded with concern and apprehension, obviously not believing this to be a good idea. You have your own doubts, but you trust Scott, just like you always have.

So, with a simple nod Derek’s way, you pull your wrist out of his grasp and fall to a stop next to your brother.

The three Oni lined up before you all take steps towards the three of you, and you inhale sharply when the one in front of you raises it’s hand, grasping the back of your head. A gasp leaves your lips as it does so, your eyes slowly zoning in on it’s yellow glowing eyes that seem to entrance you, beckoning your every whim to it. You’re forced down to your knees, something of which you do not struggle against, your eyes never leaving its.

Your body becomes rigid cold. Your muscles tense and you’re unable to move anything at all until the Oni tilts it’s head to right, your own following, as if mimicking it. As it straightens it’s head out, your own following, your eyes never leaving it’s, there’s a sharp pain on the left side of your head, right behind your ear before your body falls to the ground with a thud.

Your eyes feel heavy, and you let them shut for a moment before finally gaining the strength to raise your hand and touch that same exact spot behind your ear.

Then, there are hands on your shoulders, pulling you back and meeting Derek’s eyes who hovers above you. “You’re gonna be okay,” he reassures you, helping pull you up slightly. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“Stiles!”

With an airy laugh of relief, you find your feet moving before your mind even registers the fact. Before you know it, you’re wrapping your arms around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him close. You forget for a moment that Scott is stood behind the two of you, watching, as a wide smile falls on your lips.

After only a moment of hesitance, one that strikes you as odd but you don’t comment upon, Stiles returns your embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist.

As you pull back, briefly glancing back at your brother before returning your gaze on Stiles, you smile up at the boy. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, you shifting in his grip slightly so you’re beside him. “I’m fine. What’s been going on?”

Gasping, your eyes snap open, your heart racing.

Something’s wrong. Something feels wrong.

Your mind whirls, your blanket being flipped off of you with haste as you push yourself onto your feet. It’s on the tip of your tongue, your body tensing as you think. Think. Something’s out of place, but what? As you stand there, your head snapping every which way, staring at every corner of your room as your heart won’t stop racing, pounding against your chest, it finally clicks.

Scott. Something’s wrong with Scott.

You turn to your door, yanking it open without a care in the world as you take a sharp turn to the left, It only takes you practically a minute to reach Scott’s room and you don’t bother knocking, unable to handle the feeling of panic and fear and uncertainty that won’t stop terrorizing your body as you practically run inside.

He’s awake, his phone pressed against his ear as he stumbles over his own two feet. His breath is heavy, chest rising and falling much like your own. Upon seeing him, the feelings that rush through your mind slowly start to make sense, but they don’t fade. They won’t go away. After a moment, you’re able to focus onto the words he’s saying. “What? No, hey, wait… Hold on, Stiles wait…”

Stiles? What’s wrong with Stiles?

“Scott,” you call, your voice pitching as you take a step forward. Scott can’t seem to focus on you, his eyes wander every which way and it almost looks like his knees are about to give out from beneath him. He clambers over to his dresser and with haste, you force your own muscles to move, stumbling towards him and grasping him by the shoulders. “Scott,” you call once again, meeting his eyes. “What’s wrong? What’s happening? Where’s Stiles?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. He–”

You gasp, a sudden flood of fear overwhelming you. It pierces you, like a knife to the chest, as your own fear mixes with another and it becomes unbearable. Your eyes snap to your hand on Scott’s shoulder, and you yank your hand away, clutching it to your chest. For a moment, the two of you just stand there, hearts pounding and out of breath.

It’s Scott who breaks the silence. “Stiles is somewhere, and… and he needs me to find him. We need to find him.”

You don’t reply. You can’t find the words to reply.

Turning on the lamp on his dresser, Scott opens his drawer, pulling out a flannel. “Isaac!” He bellows, causing you to blink as you take a step back. “Isaac, get up!”

You can’t focus on anything. It feels like your heart is literally about to leap out of your throat. Stiles… you can’t even seem to think the words without the worry becoming too much.

“I need your help! Isaac!”

Isaac bursts through the door in that exact moment. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Passing him the extra helmet, Scott closes his dresser drawer. “It’s Stiles. Get dressed.”

“Stiles?” Isaac questions, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong with Stiles?”

“…I don’t know.”

Before you know it, the two of them are dressed and barreling down the stairs. You’re quick to follow after them, unable to think clearly as you grab a hold of Scott’s wrist tightly before the two of them can walk out the front door. “I’m coming with you,” you demand with haste, your brows furrowing as you shake your head. “You can’t just expect me to stay here if Stiles’ is in danger.”

“There’s not enough room on my bike,” Scott breathes, shaking his head in return. “Nor do we have enough time. Stay here until we find out more. I’ll call you the second I find out anything.”

Scott pulls his wrist from your grasp before you can say anything more, pushing past Isaac out the door.

“Scott–!”

Your words fall on deaf ears as he rushes over to his bike. You halt by the front door, your wide and teary eyes falling on Isaac who stares down at you in pity. He says nothing but gives you a saddened look, following after Scott a minute later. You watch the two of them hop on Scott’s bike, driving off and leaving you to wait there helplessly.

You don’t hear your mother come running down the stairs or your name leave her lips as you watch Scott and Isaac fade into the distance, your shoulders falling with defeat.

You weren’t about to stand around doing nothing. That wasn’t you, and when it came to those you cared about, you would never sit back and hope that they stayed and remained safe. You would make sure that they were safe, at whatever cost.

So, the moment you snapped out of your stupor and Scott and Isaac were completely out of sight, you got dressed and borrowed your mother’s car to head over to Stiles’. Melissa had tried to get you to stay, desperate for you to explain the entirety of the situation to her, but you wouldn’t listen. You merely told her that Stiles was missing, and he’d called Scott in a panic.

You imagined, or rather hoped, that there might be some clue that could help you understand where Stiles went or if someone had taken him, and where in his room. And while going to his room didn’t necessarily give you the information that you wanted, it certainly wasn’t unhelpful.

Staring at the red strings before you, all attached to the ceiling, you try to make sense of it. It has to make sense.

You’re pulled from the thoughts at the sound of Stiles’ bedroom door opening. Turning your head over your shoulder, your eyes widen when you find Lydia and Aiden stood in front of you, both who halt to a stop in front of you. It’s obvious that they hadn’t expected to see you here either, if their expressions are anything to go by. You shake your head, eyes narrowing; “how did yo--”

“I heard this-this noise,” Lydia explains, her face tensing as she tries to explain what she means to the best of her ability, and it clicks. Given that she’s a banshee, the fact that she might of felt something or heard something was wrong probably shouldn’t have surprised you. But it also didn’t make you feel any better either -- when it came to Lydia’s powers, it usually ended in death.

Aiden softly shuts the door behind him, as Lydia takes a step towards you. “What are you doing here?’

With your hands against your chest, you turn your attention back towards Stiles’ bed, your shoulders falling. “Stiles called Scott,” you begin, biting your lip in worry. “I... felt something was wrong and before I could even really ask anything, Scott was out of the door with Isaac, going to search for Stiles.” Meeting Lydia’s eyes once again, you shrug helplessly. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

Lydia nods, just as Aiden falls by her side. “What is this suppose to mea-”

Aiden is interrupted by, once again, the sound of Stiles’ bedroom door flying open. The three of you turn, your eyes meeting Scott’s as his eyes widen at the sight of Lydia and Aiden. “How did you know?” He questions, without any hesitance. “Did he call you too?”

Lydia shakes her head; “I heard it.”

“Don’t ask,” Aiden sighs, “it gets more confusing when you ask.”

“I doubt it’s anymore confusing then this,” you sigh, gesturing towards Stiles bed. All the red strings of yarn, that Stiles had once told you meant those of your cases that were unsolved, were tacked to the ceiling and wrapped around a pair of scissors which had been stabbed into the mattress of his bed. “He uses red for unsolved cases,” you add, turning back to your friends.

“Maybe he thinks he’s part of an unsolved case?” Aiden offers.

“Or is an unsolved case,” Isaac adds, and you shake your head, unable to stop the nerves that flood your entire being.

“Wait,” you call, shaking your head. “That means you didn’t find him? You have no idea where he is?”

Scott swallows thickly; “he said he was in an industrial basement somewhere.”

“We came here to get a better scent,” Isaac explains.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Something’s wrong with his leg,” Scott answers, his face tensing in concern. “It’s bleeding.”

“And he’s freezing.”

“Tonight’s the coldest night of the year,” Aiden reminds. With each second that pasts and you find out more information, you feel yourself lose more and more hope that you’ll find Stiles. “It’s going to drop into the twenties.”

“Okay,” you breathe, voice quiet. “What did his dad say?”

Scott shuffles on his feet, clenching his fists nervously as he avoids your gaze. “We kind of... we didn’t tell him yet.”

“Stiles is bleeding and freezing and you didn’t call his dad?” You screech, your eyes widening in disbelief.

Shaking his head, Scott’s voice is quiet; “he made me promise not to. We can find him by scent.” Your eyes fall shut at Scott’s reasoning, your heart pounding erratically against your chest. “If he was sleepwalking he couldn’t have gotten far, right?”

“You didn’t notice his jeep is gone, did you?”

Shaking your head, you pull your phone out of your back pocket. “You promised him you wouldn’t call his dad,” you mumble, already typing in Noah’s phone number. “I didn’t.”

“Wait, Y/N,” Scott calls, setting his hand over your own. “Hold on. I can get more help. I can call Derek, Allison...”

“Everyone except for the cops,” Lydia interrupts, her voice pitching. “Great idea.”

“You guys remember she only gets these feelings when someone’s about to die, right?”

“Scott,” you whisper, pulling his eyes on you. “We have to call his dad.”

“We don’t have to call him,” Scott dismisses, shaking his head. “It’s five minutes to the station.”

Taking a step forward, you fall by Isaac’s side, maneuvering your way through Stiles’ door before Lydia’s words causes you to halt.

“We’ll catch up,” she explains, her hand pressed against Aiden’s chest to stop him from following after the three of you.

“What?” Scott asks, shaking his head. “Why?”

“There is something here,” Lydia explains.

“Yeah,” Isaac nods, “evidence of total insanity.”

“Isaac,” you hiss, glaring up at him. Meeting your eyes, Isaac offers an apologetic look your way as you shake your head.

“We can figure out what’s with him after we find a way to keep him from freezing to death,” Scott dismisses, and you nod to his words.

“Go,” Lydia encourages, nodding her head reassuringly. “We’ll be right behind you.”

With respect, you remain silent. But you can’t help but feel your heart lurch in pity as it takes every ounce of Noah’s strength to remain strong in front of you and your friends and his fellow officers at the news that his son is missing and none of you have any leads.

“If his jeep is missing, that’s where we start.”

Stood slightly behind Scott, to the right of Isaac, you meet the latter’s eyes briefly before refocusing on Sheriff Stilinski before you. He shifts slightly, straightening out as he turns to the deputy sat in the desk beside him. “Parrish,” he calls, “let’s get an APB out on a blue nineteen-eighty CJ-5 jeep.” Said deputy wastes no time doing so as Noah turns to another officer. “Cordova, I want a list of any kind of industrial basement or sub-level of any building that he could’ve gotten into while sleepwalking. It’s the coldest night of the year so far. So if he’s out there barefoot, in just a t-shirt, he could already be hypothermic. Let’s move fast. Let’s think fast.”

You raise your head as Noah turns to the three of you. “The three of you, come with me.”

You, Scott and Isaac waste no time following Stiles’ dad into his office, turning to him as he shuts the door behind you all. The moment he’s finished, he turns to you in return. “Okay. Is there anything you need to tell me that I can’t tell anyone out there?”

“Lydia knew he was missing,” Scott explains, shuffling on his feet slightly.

“Can she help find him?”

“Well, she’s working on it.”

“Anything else?” Noah questions.

“We called Derek and Allison for help,” you add, hoping that it might help.

Sighing, Noah takes a step forward; “can you find him by scent?”

Before either Isaac and Scott can answer, the sound of knocking interrupts as Parrish invites himself into the office. “We got it, sir. We found the jeep.”

“He’s not here. Not anymore.”

“You mean the whole building?”

“Gone.”

Rubbing your hands across your face in distress, you shake your head.

“I’ll go tell Stilinski,” Isaac offers, inching towards the door the three of you just entered from.

Scott is quick to turn towards him; “and see if you can find Allison. She’s not answering her phone.”

Isaac nods, and in the next second, he’s picking up the pace in his step, running back the way you came. You meet Scott’s eyes briefly before the two of you jog over to where Derek’s stood. You turn to the two of them as they seem to fall silent for a moment, before Derek speaks up; “notice how strong the scent is up here? Ever hear of chemo signals?”

Shaking your head, you cross your arms over your chest; “what are they?”

“Chemical signals that communicate emotion,” Derek explains, meeting your eyes. “And just our sweat can give off anger, fear or disgust. Take a deep breath, tell me what you feel.”

You turn to Scott at his instructions, unable to stop yourself from asking; “Scott?”

“Stress,” he answers, opening up his eyes.

“And anxiety,” Derek adds.

“What was he doing up here?” You question, gazing around in wonder.

“I don’t know,” Derek sighs, shaking his head. “But there was definitely some kind of struggle.”

“With who?”

“Himself.”

“Stiles?”

You don’t bother paying attention to your surroundings before you’re making your way down the stairs, practically sprinting down them. The second you reach the bottom of them, your eyes wander rapidly across the room, trying to search for even just the slightest sight of Stiles anywhere.

Lydia believes he was in Eichen House, a mental institute. And your heart welled up with hope at the chance that she might be right. She’d never been wrong before when it came to her feelings and assumptions, and you prayed to God that this time wasn’t any different.

But as your eyes wander across the entire room for the second time and still, no Stiles, you worry that maybe it was.

“Stiles...?”

Breathless, Scott shuffles over to Scott, his hands held out beside him in desperation. “Lydia?”

Panting, Lydia looks around, shaking her head. She hesitates before responding, her voice barely audible when she does. “I don’t get it,” she whispers, shoulders falling in defeat. “This has to be it.”

“Then where is he, huh?”

Your eyes fall shut at the sound of Noah’s voice. Clenching your fists, you keep your own disappointment and terror to yourself as you can the tension rise within the small room you’re all huddled in. You don’t necessarily blame Noah as you feel his anger and frustration double, but you also know that Lydia had only done the best she could -- and that she truly believed Stiles was here. Or else she wouldn’t of brought you all here in the first place.

“Where is he? Where is he?” You flinch as he voice pitches in anger towards the end, shoulders tensing.

After a moment of echoed silence, Noah sighs; “i’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand...”

You hear their fleeting footsteps, but hesitate on following them. Something feels wrong. Somethings tells you, deep down, that Lydia wasn’t wrong. That there was no way she could be wrong and Stiles is here... or at least, he was...

A hand falling on your shoulder is what pulls you from your thoughts.

“Y/N,” Scott whispers, pulling your eyes on his. “Come on.”

Biting your lip, you shoulders fall as you let your gaze once again wander across the room. It just doesn’t feel right.

But then Scott’s hand in slipping into your own, and he’s gently pulling you in the direction of the door, back up the stairs you’d just gone barreling down and you don’t fight his pull. Instead, you follow after him, your movements slow and sluggish in reluctance.

He had to have been here.

“Y/N!”

You ignore your mother’s voice screaming after you, letting the front door shut harshly behind yourself as you grip your cheek, your eyes narrowing in distress at the stinging sensation that doesn’t fade.

You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes and eventually pool over your cheeks, your feet never slow as you race towards a destination unknown. All you knew was that you had to get out of there and quick. No longer could you just stand there and take it, the bruises that littered your body over simple mistakes that didn’t deserve the punishment you received.

And he’d always done it behind closed doors. So no one knew. And yet, today, your mother had stood there with tears in her eyes and her voice raw as your father raised his hand towards you. You didn’t blame your mom, no, but if your father was no longer afraid to do it front of others, that meant it was getting worse. That he no longer could think rationally enough to know it was wrong.

The alcohol had poisoned his mind and turned him into a man unrecognizable to you.

It didn’t occur to you that you would eventually return -- that you couldn’t spend your days running forever. Eventually, and probably sooner than you would’ve liked, you would have to go back home and face what you just ran away from. But you didn’t care then as you ran. You didn’t understand why he took all his anger out on you. Why you had to suffer while your brother carried on, clueless to what you barred.

While you would never wish your brother to suffer what you did, you hated that you had to suffer alone.

“Y/N?”

You halt, your feet slowing to a stop. You know that voice.

“Stiles?”

You turn, slowly and apprehensively, your eyes widen at the sight of Stiles stood before you. He was your brother’s best friend, and because the two of them spent so much time together, you’d gotten to know him quite well yourself. The two of you were nothing more than friends, and certainly couldn’t be considered as close as him and your brother -- that’s why you hate that he’s the one you run into. It’s obvious something is wrong by the tears streaming down your cheeks, and no amount of lying is going to deter Stiles from the truth.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles’ questions, his eyes narrowing as he takes a step towards. “Why are you crying?”

“It’s fine,” you dismiss, turning away from Stiles. That only hurts you in the end as you hiss loudly at the stinging that radiates through your body, flooding from your left hip. Stiles catches the expression easily enough, and it causes him to quicken his step, rushing over to you.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His voice seems panicked, and he hastily reaches out for you, turning you towards him as he gazes at you with wide eyes.

It’s then that he sees the bruise on your cheek, faintly in the shape of a hand and Stiles’ lips part. He reaches out, gently pulling your hand away as he goes to touch it. “Who did that to you?” He questions, brows furrowing. “Come on, I was just about to go see Scott. We have to tell your parents--”

“No!”

Stiles blinks at your bellow, his head jerking back in surprise.

Flushing in embarrassment, you shake your head; “no,” you repeat, albeit softer. “I’m not going back there.”

Stiles shakes his head; “they can help you. Y/N, why wouldn’t you...” It’s as if something clicks in his head. You watch Stiles’ eyes widen as realization floods him. His hands fall limply by his side, disbelief flooding him. “Y/N, did... your parents do this to you?”

You swallow thickly, shaking your head slightly. But it’s pitiful, and you know Stiles doesn’t believe you.

“Your dad?”

Your silence is all the answer he needs.

“I... We... My dad can help you. He’s a cop. We can tell him--”

“No,” you interrupt once again. “We can’t tell anyone,” you argue, shaking your head at Stiles. “Stiles, my dad... he... he’s drunk, he doesn’t mean it. He never means it. Once he stops drinking, it’ll stop.”

“Y/N--”

“Please.”

Stiles’ words fall short at your plea, finally registering the desperation in your eyes as you sniffle before him. The tears haven’t stopped falling down your cheeks and by the way you’re shaking, it’s clear you’re scared -- more than scared, terrified.

Stiles has the strong urge to protect you in that moment. To not let you out of his sights in fear that you’ll only be caused more pain.

“It’ll be okay,” Stiles eventually says, raising his hands once more and this time wrapping them around you. You’re shocked at first, this being the closest you’ve ever been to Stiles. But don’t fight the embrace, falling into his warmth. “I promise.”

“I’ll be out in a second, okay?”

Scott nods, his gaze hovering on Stiles for a moment longer before he turns, heading out of the room after your mom and Noah.

Silence envelops the area as it’s just you and Stiles left in the room. Your eyes flicker across the MRI scanner next to you, before they wander back over to Stiles who is sat upon it. While you’d watched Scott talk to Stiles, you wondered for a long time what you should say to Stiles yourself, or if... you should say anything at all.

But after everything that has happened and the absolute terror of not knowing where Stiles was or if he was okay, you couldn’t just not say anything.

Yet now, stood before him, you’re silent. There was so much you wanted to say, and now, they seemed lost, your mind blank. Your shoulders and heart felt heavy with the weight of the reality that things were more than just bad. That Stiles could have the same disease his mother had, and the thought of it makes you feel like your heart is being ripped to shreds.

It crushes you.

Then, Stiles’s hand falls on your own and you gasp softly at the sudden contact. You raise your head, meeting his eyes as Stiles slowly maneuvers his hand so it’s not just on yours but rather grasping your own. He grips it tightly, as if it’s the last thing giving him strength and you feel your eyes water in response. “Stiles...” His name leaves your lips in a whisper, barely audible. “I-”

Your words halt as Stiles moves his hand to cup your cheek, causing you to still in surprise. Stiles, in that moment, doesn’t seem to care that his father and your mother as well as the doctor, are all stood in the viewing room watching the two of you as he pulls you close. He presses his lips against your own, and you feel your eyes flutter shut in response.

The kiss is short but it gives you the reassurance you both need as you pull away. Before you can pull away too far, however, Stiles rests his forehead against your own. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

The words are meant as encouragement -- reassurance, and yet, they break your heart. No matter the situation, it always seems to be Stiles giving you the strength to carry on, even when it’s his life and body that’s in danger. Reassuring you that it’ll all be alright instead of the other way around, like it should be.

He whispers those words. Those five simple words like he always does.

You nod, despite the guilt that floods you, and squeeze his hand tightly one more time before stepping away. Your gaze lingers on his own a moment longer before turning towards the door, opening it and letting it fall shut behind you.

You keep your gaze lowered as you make your way into the hallway, your heart heavy.

You blink, raising your head towards the ceiling as the light flickers. Your hear the faint sound of electricity sparkling, causing you to push yourself off the wall by the door to the MRI room, taking a sharp turn to the right, opening the door to the waiting room.

Melissa, Noah and the doctor in there turn to you upon your sudden entrance as you shake your head at them.

“What was that?”

“It sounded like a power surge.”

Your eyes flicker to the left, your eyes widen when you find Stiles missing. Instantly, you rush over to the viewing window, gripping the edge of it tightly. “Where’s Stiles?”

“Huh?”

“Stiles is missing.”

Part 22?

Let me know what you thought!

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essoreese · 5 years ago

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Silence Ritual Chapter 1 - A Deal With the Devil

(AN/ Heyo guys, Esso here and this is my first story; Silence Ritual. Now firt thing's first, although I already mentioned this in the description, this is a spinoff of Take A Stand: The Broken Mirror by Garouge Faux / @crewefox. It's also a direct sequel to that story so if you haven't read it, please do before reading this. This fic will be around 20 chapters and while it doesn't have a strict update schedule, I will try to update it at least twice a month. So without any further ado, let's begin the Silence Ritual.)

special thanks to @helthehatter for letting me use her OC, Kodi Jones.

here’s a link to the fic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13396893/1/Silence-Ritual

and here’s a link to The Broken Mirror, in case you haven’t read it: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12973009/1/Take-A-Stand-The-Broken-Mirror

Chapter 1: A Deal With The Devil

It was almost 9:30am in Zootopia. Despite being late summer the weather was surprisingly cool. And while most mammals were out, enjoying the weather, a brown-furred bunny running like her life depended on it certainly did not fit in with the surrounding atmosphere. "Shit! I'm so damn late." she cursed under her breath as she made her way to the bank. She had just arrived at the front door of Zootopia first national bank but before she could enter, she was knocked back by three figures. By the time she got herself off the ground, the trio was already speeding away in a white van.

In said van a female hyena took off her mask, looked at duffle bags full of cash her and her partners were holding and cheered "Hell yeah! Hahahaha, that was awesome!"

"Shut up!" a male ram shouted at her. "How 'bout we lose the cops, then we can celebrate all we want." He then turned his attention to the driver. "They still followin' us?"

"Nope." The zebra behind the wheel returned. "Should be smooth sailing from he-"

***CRASH***

The van had somehow swerved off the road and hit a lamp post. The group of robbers got out with ease, none of them were injured.

"What the shit, dude?!" shouted the hyena before pushing the zebra driver "You could've killed us!"

"I didn't do shit! The van just swerved!" the zebra retaliated, clearly rattled by the crash.

"Screw that noise! The hell do you mean it just swerved?" the ram said while trying his best not to kick his accomplice's teeth in.

The trio kept arguing for a few more seconds until another mammal, a buff female leopard, stepped out of the vehicle.

"ENOUGH!" she screamed before adding "We got the money. Let's get out of here before the pigs arrive, and then you can beat up this idiot."

"I keep telling you, I didn't do this! I didn't crash the fu-" the zebra tried to explain, but was stopped mid-sentence when a small piece of metal hit him in the temple, knocking him out cold.

Before any of the other crooks could react, a dozen more metal plates began flying around them. First, two of them enveloped the ram's hands and effortlessly magnetized him onto the crashed van. Then one wrapped itself around the hyena's foot and dragged her across the street until it latched onto a lamppost, leaving her hanging upside down. The rest of the plates began spinning around the leopard. One by one, they began binding her hands, eventually sending her flying towards a sewer grate. Now that all of them were immobilized, an ocelot in his late teens came out from a nearby alley. He was dressed rather plainly, with a black hoodie and torn jeans and would seem completely normal if he didn't have several small pieces of metal levitating around his arms.

"C'mon, cut him some slack, I didn't even give him a chance to control the van" he taunted the leopard.

"Who the hell are you?" she spat while trying to remove her arms from the sewer grate they were stuck to.

"Look, I'ma make it real simple for you dum-dums," he snickered "you did crime, so I glued your asses for the cops to handle."

"What the hell?!" the hyena barked in rage "what did you do to me you freak!"

"You aren't very bright, are you?" the ocelot said condescendingly "let me give you the TLDR, name's Steelswarm, I control metal, I got a tip that you were robbing a bank so I decided to have some fun with you all."

"Like hell you got a tip, you're too young to be a cop! Cut the crap!" yelled the ram.

"I didn't say i was a cop, moron" Steelswarm sighed as he pulled a small star shaped badge from one of his pockets "I'm with Ceartais and you are sooooo fu-" he tried to taunt but was cut off by a thud to the back of his head. The zebra had woken up and had taken the opportunity to knock the gloating vigilante out.

When Steelswarm came to the four robbers we're standing over him, when he was knocked out he lost control of all the metal plates that were holding the crooks.

"Ya dun goofed, kid and now you're gonna pay for screwing around!" the hyena snickered before putting a paw to her face, which began to transform into that of a wolf with golden fur. She fished a pair of glasses out of her pocked and put them on before saying;

"OK, first of all you didn't call for backup once you got the tip."

"Sorry, Clara." the ocelot murmured, still in pain.

"You didn't even try to restrain me after knocking me out!" complained the zebra, as it's face morphed to that of a red fox.

"Sorry, Luna." Steelswarm groaned .

"And what's with all the gloating?" said the "ram" as his body transformed to that of a wolf with black and white fur. "Those restraints were weak, I could've knocked you out myself if you had come any closer."

"Sorry, Kodi" Steelswarm added, sinking further into the ground.

"Overall, that was pretty sloppy" said the fox/bunny hybrid that now stood in the leopard's place "but I'll give you points for the van crash. Also Steelswarm? Dope name."

"Sorr- I mean thanks Robyn." the ocelot stuttered out.

"OK, Bella, simulation over." said Kodi as the city around them began to dematerialize and they were left in a blank room.

Kodi helped the ocelot to his feet before saying, "OK, you have good control over your powers but your communication still needs work. Also you need to pay more attention during combat..."

"Yeah, figures..." groaned Steelswarm "so... same time next week?"

"Yup!" said Clara while looking at her tablet "Oh, but you'll be training with Regina and Hannah then."

"Sweet! See ya then, guys!" yipped the ocelot as he walked towards the elevator.

000

In the six months since Doom's defeat, the entire base had been revamped. The training area was now bigger and had simulations about dealing with situations regarding mammals with powers. A lot of them still had trouble controlling their new abilities and that was causing some issues around the city. Some of the mammals who had a better grasp on their powers chose to use them for crime, since neither the ZPD nor the MCB were properly prepared for dealing with them. A few others either wanted to join Ceartais or start their own vigilante teams. And while Ceartais usually wouldn't entertain the idea of letting anyone join in, but Olivia and Kion had left and Alice was on maternity leave, so the team was missing it's powerhouses. And despite Regina, Harper and Clara all joining the team, they were still rookies and needed supervision. So Kodi felt like had no choice but to start a training program for any empowered mammal willing to join them.

The four mammals sat in the main area of the bunker, almost ready to discuss their patrol positions for the night. They were soon joined by another hybrid, this one more closely resembling an arctic fox, bar the black stripes on her ears and tail.

"Hi, Hannah!" Robyn waved enthusiastically.

"Hi!" the hybrid responded as she made her way to the empty seat next to Clara.

"So we're waiting for Regina and Harper?" Kodi asked just as the elevator to the bunker opened.

Out of it walked a horse and a deer, holding hands. The mare was wearing a black summer dress while the buck wore a green polo shirt and torn jeans.

"Hey, sorry were late. Got held up at home." the deer, Harper, spoke.

"It's OK." Kodi said nonchalantly, before scanning the room.

"Everyone's here so," Kodi started, ready to give out the night's assignments "Me, Hannah and Regina will take Savannah Central and Downtown, there has been a string of robberies and witnesses claim that they were done by empowered mammals. "

"Robyn, you and Clara take Tundra Town. Harper and Luna you have the Rainforest District covered and Bella has Spitfire bots patrolling Sahara Square. Everyone OK with the positions?" the wolf asked.

Everyone nodded in agreement. Despite that, Clara seemed to be bothered by something and as soon as everyone went to gear up, she pulled Kodi aside.

"Hey, you got a sec?" the she-wolf asked quietly.

"Oh, I got more than a "sec"." Kodi said teasingly, as he pulled Clara closer.

"What?! No, not THAT kind of sec! Not at work!" Clara exclaimed "Also, Luna will find us... again."

"Awww... OK." Kodi pouted, feigning disappointment. "What is this about then?"

"Kodi, it's been six months. Why aren't you putting Robyn and Hannah on patrol together?" Clara asked.

"Well... because with you, Regina and Harper being new recruits I want an ori-" the wolf started talking but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"Don't lie to me, Kodi. You suck at it." Clara huffed "What's really going on?"

"OK look..." Kodi sighed "the city's gone to shit again, there's empowered mammals everywhere, running the training program is stressful and honestly, Robbie and Hannah have been doing OK on their own."

"Who are you trying to fool?" the she-wolf said, somewhat agitated "They're growing apart. I haven't heard Hannah call Robyn "princess" in two weeks. They need to get through this Ronin thing."

"Yes I know... but I just don't want to bring it up. Robyn is still pissed at me for helping with the plan, and I don't think she could ever trust me or Hannah completely again. I can't risk another serious fight between the team. Not while the city needs us." Kodi tried defending himself.

"...You know that's gonna come back and bite you in the ass, right? Like, you're aware that if they find out you're keeping them apart intentionally they're gonna kill you?" Clara asked, knowing that she didn't have the time to argue with her mate.

"Probably..." Kodi returned, looking sullen.

"Look, I know this isn't easy. But you promised that you would mend the team's wounds and you aren't doing yourself any favours right now. It's way too late to change positions now but please at least consider giving them a few assignments together." Clara said before hugging her boyfriend.

"I will. I just don't wanna screw this up..." Kodi answered.

000

The Wave was without a doubt one of the biggest tragedies to hit Zootopia. Even six years later, a lot of the damage was still present. There were still parts of Sahara Square and Tundra Town that were uninhabitable, and there was barely anyone left to even live in Little Rodentia. There was one part of Zootopia that was largely unaffected by The Wave, however; Outback Island. Despite being relatively small, it still housed over 50,000 mammals and was home of the first functioning prison for empowered mammals. The facility could hold up to 500 inmates, and for the last six months, it was Esso Reese's home.

The lynx thought that The Cauldron was a hellhole, but this was worse. She could not use her powers, thanks to the modified shock collar that had been on her neck ever since she arrived there. Any of the activities that helped her deal with The Cauldron were useless here. She couldn't listen to music, her snarky attitude had put her in solitary more than once, and while she could still technically take bets on the other inmates... it was highly discouraged unless she wanted to find herself on the receiving end of a shank. The worst part, however, was the loneliness. None of the mammals she met on the Cauldron could visit her as they were witnesses in her case. And none of the imprisoned mammals wanted anything to do with her. She was laying in bed, just hoping for the sentencing piece to come as soon as possible so she could finally know how much longer did she have to endure this for, when one of the guards approached her cell.

"Reese, your lawyer is here." the rhino said in a stern tone.

The two headed to a small area, similar to an interrogation room. Her lawyer was a pig in a beige suit and he was already waiting for them. As soon as they entered, the rhino locked the door, in case the lynx wanted to try something stupid.

"Hello, Sabrina" the pig started, in his usual dull tone "how are you holding up?"

"Well other than the food and coffee being shit, the guards being abusive, everyone hating me and the crushing loneliness... ten outta ten. Also call me Esso." the lynx replied with what she wanted to be sarcasm but in the end it just came out flat and broken.

"Please, please, please tell me you got good news." she continued.

"Well, given the circumstances, I don't think the jury is in your favour." the pig returned.

"Sweet. Awesome. Love to hear it... how much am I looking at?" Esso barely managed to get out as she put her hear in her arms.

"Twenty five years minimum."

"Lovely..."

At this point Esso could not sink any lower. She just huddled in her chair and tried her best to hide her tears. "Just... absolutely lovely."

"There is another option. You could plead insanity." the lawyer tried to calm her down.

"What for? So they'll throw me in an mental asylum for the rest of my life instead of a prison?" the lynx snapped.

"Please, Sabrina, calm down." the pig tried to reason.

"Screw that!" Esso shouted, gaining the guard's attention. "I was kidnapped, almost killed several times and thrown in here for some bullshit that I didn't even know I did!"

"They have body cam footage, I can't jus-" her lawyer cut in.

"Now I'm either gonna be stuck here or in the looney bin until I croak, because I was forced into a cult six years ago! Also for the umpteenth time, call me Ess-" the lynx ranted until her shcok collar delivered a painful sting to her neck, which brought her to her knees.

"You know what?" Esso said through sobs "Just... do whatever... I don't give a shit. Guard, I'm done here."

The rhino guard guided Esso back to her cell. As soon as the door locked behind her, she collapsed into her bed started crying. She had no options left. It felt like hours before the same guard unlocked her cell.

"Reese, someone wants to see you." he said in his usual monotone.

"...what?" the lynx murmured as she got out of bed.

Esso walked the same path she just took. She was wondering who could possibly be visiting her. Her parents were dead, the other mammals from the Cauldron couldn't see her and she barely had any friends in Zootopia.

When she entered the small room, she was greeted by two mammals. One she already knew and hated. It was Skye Savage, the director of the MCB. The arctic fox sat uncomfortably in a one of the chairs and looked at Esso with disdain. The other was a maned wolf she had never seen before. He was wearing a burgundy suit with a matching tie.

"Skye..." Esso sneered at the fox "came to see your favourite little psycho?"

"Shut up and sit down!" Skye barked failing to contain her anger.

"Who's your boyfriend there?" Esso continued to prod. "You want an audience while you scream at me?"

"Now listen here you-" Skye said in a low growl before she was interrupted by the maned wolf clearing his throat.

"Please control yourself Mrs. Savage." the other mammal spoke calmly. "Now, Ms. Reese, or do you prefer Esso?"

"Esso is fine." the lynx replied, puzzled by the current situation.

"Noted." the maned wolf said as he pulled out a tablet from within his suit and started typing. "I have a proposition that you might be interested in."

"Ooooh, let me guess" Esso mocked "you wanna transfer me to an underground super prison, or some off the grid looney bin to lobotomize me?"

"Heh heh, I love your sense of humour." the maned wolf feigned a laugh. "No, I'm a representative of Ashe Incorporated, or Ashecorp. for short. We are an elite company that specializes in research into mammals with extraordinary abilities."

"Oh, so you don't wanna lobotomize me, just experiment on me. Dandy." Esso said sarcastically.

"Not the case at all Ms. Esso. We were made aware of your "outburst" six months ago." the wolf returned as calm as ever, "We want to harness your powers not only to better understand these new abilities mammals have gotten, but to also better the city of Zootopia and, potentially, the world."

"OK cut the crap, what kind of cult is this?" Esso snickered.

"We're not a cult Ms. Esso." the maned wolf answered "I understand why you would be wary of us, but given your current situation I don't think you have a better option. Especially since you haven't heard the benefits of joining us."

Esso looked at the maned wolf, now much more attentive.

"What benefits?"

The maned wolf had a small smile on his face now.

"Well for starters, you'll get full immunity."

"Bullshit." Esso said under her breath. "As if Resting Bitchface McGee over there would allow it."

"Oh, but she already did." the maned wolf produced a piece of paper and a ballpoint pen from his suit and gave it to the lynx. It appeared to be some sort of contract and while Esso couldn't recognize any of the signatures, the fact that Skye wasn't objecting to this made her believe that whoever that maned wolf was, he was being serious.

"You'll also get combat and self-defense training, paid accommodation in any hotel throughout Zootopia and access to any empowered mammal's data. All you have to do is sign the contract." the maned wolf continued, still calm but clearly more excited than usual.

"I... what's the catch?" Esso stammered.

"Well, in return, you'll have to help Ashecorp collect more data on empowered mammals." the maned wolf replied with his usual calmness. "Or you can choose not to sign and none of this would have happened and you would be back awaiting trial. So... what's it gonna be?"

Esso didn't know what to think. It was obvious to her that this offer was too good to be true, but what other choice did she have? The lynx knew that she had no chance of walking out innocent from the trial, and all of her other options involved some type of imprisonment. Maybe this one did to but right now it seemed like her only way out of this Hell.

Esso cursed under her breath as she grabbed the pen and signed her name on the contract, on what she thought was her deal with the Devil. "I want in."

(AN/ DUN DUN DUUUUUUN! (always wanted to do this) Ceartais has started a training program. Kodi is trying his best as team leader. And Esso accepts an... interesting deal. Did you like it, did you not? Either way, please review. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve the fic, please put them in the reviews as well. Next time on Silence Ritual; Esso learns what her deal is all about, Olivia tries to balance professional and personal life and Robyn and Hannah go on their first joint mission in months. See u soon folks.)

#zootopia #zootopia fanfiction #disney #fanfic #take a stand #take a stand tbm #disney fanfiction #zootropolis

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bigskydreaming · 6 years ago

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AU where in the first season of each of their respective shows, Scott McCall and Tyler Lockwood run into each other after they both skip town and go off on their own because literally every other werewolf they know is an asshole. And like, granted, Tyler’s an asshole too at that point, but in a ‘he’ll grow out of it’ kinda way, and I mean...enter Scott McCall. Hashtag Growth happens immediately for both. Tyler’s like “No dude, you gotta be more selfish. Look out for number one, you know?”

Scott squints. “I’m number one?” He says slowly, in classic ‘I’m the hot girl?’ tone and cadence, as though the idea has never occurred to him before.

“You’re totally number one, champ,” Tyler says affirmatively, because like...he has eyes, and also has known Scott for longer than five minutes now and thus its pretty obvious that this is in fact true. Also, Tyler is at this point still the kind of asshole who says things like “champ”, and like....not even in an ironic way.

Then the next day Tyler’s an asshole to someone who doesn’t deserve it and Scott looks at him sadly.

“I don’t know how to tell you this dude, but like, you gotta care about other people,” he says. Tyler frowns. Contemplates this.

“Okay,” he says and shrugs, and its pretty much that simple because I mean, he legit literally just needed someone to tell him that. Have you met his parents? They’re AWFUL. I mean they were. Haha, they died. I mean oh no. Much sadness.

They form their own pack and its awesome and eventually that gay werewolf dude from The Originals, Aiden, joins up with them - but only because he brings his vampire boyfriend Josh along with him. I don’t really care about Aiden, but Josh was cool, ergo, I guess Aiden can stay. What is it with white werewolf dudes named Aiden anyway? There are other names, guys. Branch out. Live a little.

They then go to Canada for awhile and run into the werewolves from Bitten.

“Yeah, this seems like a whole mess,” Tyler says, gesturing vaguely in a way meant to encompass every fucked up thing that is wrong with the werewolves in the world of Bitten.

“I just remembered I left the stove on. Sorry, we gotta go,” Scott says, backing away slowly. Their pack turns and leaves *vague hand gestures* All That behind.

They then go to New York and meet the Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Shenanigans ensue, and in the process, they wind up in like, Valentine’s dungeons where they stumble across and rescue Luke Garroway.

“Wait, aren’t you that werewolf cop?” Josh asks, confused. Luke frowns.

“What? Why the hell would I be a cop? Oh, you must mean that doppelganger Valentine hired to be me to keep any of my old Shadowhunters allies or Clary’s mom to look for me. Wait, he’s a cop? Man, FUCK that guy.”

“Fuck doppelgangers, dude,” Tyler agrees, nodding sagely. Scott cocks an eyebrow at him in query.

“They just really suck,” Tyler says, with feeling. Scott nods. Well okay then. Fuck doppelgangers.

Luke joins their pack and the novelty of knowing an adult werewolf who doesn’t completely suck isn’t wearing off any time soon. Who knew that was a thing? They begin to have hope that being a werewolf isn’t synonymous with turning into a douchebag on your twenty-first birthday. Especially Tyler. He like literally JUST un-douchefied himself.

They then go wherever the fuck that show The Gates was set. There’s a whole pack there, and they don’t seem completely awful, but then there’s this one werewolf kid named Brett. Scott goes still.

“Do you have a twin brother?” He asks Brett. Brett scowls.

“What the fuck kind of a question is that? No.”

“Oh, sorry,” Scott says. “It’s just you look a lot like this guy I knew back home, Jackson.”

“Well I’m not him and I don’t have a twin brother,” Brett says with unnecessary aggression that is doing nothing to assuage comparisons to Jackson. Like, chill. It was just a question.

“Oh no! He must be a doppelganger! Sorry, we have to go, we left the water running in the sink,” Tyler yells, standing up and sweeping Scott off his feet and over one shoulder while hollering over the other as he runs off into the night. The rest of their pack look at each other in confusion, shrug, and run after them. Because like, that probably means something, they figure. The Gates pack stares after them with varying expressions of wtf.

“Fucking weirdos,” Brett scoffs then. He goes back to being just The Worst Ever.

Then they wind up in Seattle, where they meet the roommates from Being Human. The American version obviously, I mean, not to be US centric but they’re not going to fucking London just to run into more werewolves, An American Werewolf in London honestly just wasn’t good enough to justify the endless jokes about American werewolves going to London, like, get over it already, let it go.

Werewolf Josh is decent enough. They consider inviting him to join their pack. Then his vampire roommate Aidan gets home, and he’s like, a whole serial killer and a half. So.

“Oh no, I left an unwrapped burrito from 7-11 in the microwave, its gonna go bad!” Vampire Josh shouts in horror, throwing Scott over one shoulder, Tyler over the other, sweeping his boyfriend up in his arms bridal style and then backing into Luke until the older man sighs, hates everything, makes plans to buy a gas-economical SUV because being a werewolf suburban soccer mom is still less undignified than being given piggy back rides by their token vampire when he runs out of arms and shoulders. Then Josh sprints all the way outside the Seattle city limits before stopping and dropping his passengers off as the rest of their pack gathers around them.

“What was wrong with this one?” Asks Tommy Dawkins, the werewolf from Big Wolf on Campus. He and Scott make up the pack’s “Wholesome Jocks In Recovery Post Asshole BFF-endectomy” club. Luke told all the teens that home-schooling was fine, but they still needed extracurriculars. This was not what he had in mind, but well. Baby steps.

“Terrible judge of character,” Scott explains. “Has philosophical debates with his vampire roommate about said vampire roommate’s triple digit body count.”

“Ahh.”

“Am I the only vampire who isn’t just ‘oh look at me, I can go homicidal at the drop of a hat and kill scores of people and then click my heels together and go whoops, all better now, man, THAT was a bad decade for me, huh?’ Am I? AM I?” Josh wails, hiccuping between sobs. Like all vampires, he is very pretty 90% of the time, but he’s a super ugly crier. It’s wonderfully humanizing. Gross, and like, dude gets snot everywhere, but there is an Official Pack Rule. Nobody tell Josh about the ugly crying. Plus, its just a cheap shot, you know? Its not his fault 99% of other vampires use their Pretty for evil.

“Josh,” Tyler says solemnly, putting his arms on both the vampire’s shoulders and looking him gravely in the eye. “I hate to have to tell you this, but I think that like. Yeah. You might just be...The One.”

“Wait no, I heard about this one vampire who’s supposed to not be awful? Down in LA I think,” says Mark, from Lost Girl. He’s not actually a werewolf, he’s a shapeshifter who turns into a black panther. They ran into his dad first, a werewolf named Dyson, but they all sensed he was Horrible within the first five seconds. Except before Luke could say he forgot to feed his goldfish, they gotta go, they bumped into Dyson’s non-awful bisexual panther teenage son and well like. They had to save him from the Horrible then. Like, technically they kidnapped him? Whatever, all their role models were terrible people.

Josh looks up, hopeful. He rubs at his face with his forearm but doesn’t really clean up the snot so much as get it everywhere. Several werewolves wince and look away politely. Mark is scrolling through something on his phone, seemingly oblivious.

“Did you seriously just leave that on a cliffhanger?” Luke scolds. Mark looks up belatedly.

“What? Oh, no. Its just supposedly he only has a soul sometimes, and when he has a soul he’s supposed to be like, a pretty decent guy, but when he doesn’t have a soul, he’s like....a maniacal ax murderer on murder-steroids. Its this whole thing apparently. I follow this demon on twitter who owns a bar down there. He posts weekly updates on whether or not the guy has his soul this week....calls it Soulwatch. I guess the last couple times the dude didn’t have his soul he almost ended the world or something? So anyway, lotta people like updates on that, since I guess he and that vampire are good buds or whatever.”

“He doesn’t have a soul sometimes?” Tyler scowls skeptically. “That sounds fake.”

“Do you have a soul?” A nameless werewolf extra from True Blood asks Josh.

Josh hiccups and gropes around at his chest, frowning.

“I think so? Nobody ever told me I might not, I don’t know. Like I mean, I feel like I have a soul, I’m pretty sure?”

“He clutches his stomach and goes ‘ow my heart’ when that Sarah McLachlan commercial with the sad puppies comes on TV,” his boyfriend says helpfully.

“That’s not where the heart is....” someone starts to say, but they’re quickly shushed. Scott, Tommy and Luke are all clutching their stomachs and nodding in understanding. Tyler rubs his temples.

“Josh, you have a soul. You literally burst into song every time you see a baby smile, and last month you guilt-tripped us all into volunteering with you at that pediatric hospital which means we heard nothing but you singing showtunes and Christmas carols for an entire week straight. In July. Mark, does your demon twitter follower say this vampire has his soul this week or not? Are we going to LA next? And someone please hit me for having to utter that sentence in the first place, it’ll make me feel better, please just do it.”

Sophia Donner, the only decent werewolf from the almost entirely werewolf-populated town of Wolf Lake, helpfully kicks him in the shin.

“What?” Mark looks up again, baffled. “Dude, he doesn’t follow ME on twitter, are you kidding? He has like, six hundred thousand twitter followers.”

“Really? Why so many?” Tommy asks.

“He has this thing where he can like, see your future or your aura or some shit like that when you sing. So karaoke night at his bar is always packed with lots of A-List celebs obsessed with the occult. Its like, impossible to get into cuz of that unless you know someone, but it means everyone who’s anyone in Hollywood follows him on twitter and is always trying to hit him up and get on the list, and so like, of course all their followers follow him too even if they don’t know why everyone follows him, they just figure obviously he must be someone important?”

“Ahh.”

“People,” Tyler barks. “Focus.”

He looks around for Scott, wondering why the hell he’s the only one trying to get a handle on this. He eventually finds Scott at the edge of their little gathering. Fucker’s holding up his cell phone and recording everything. He shoots Tyler a thumbs up and mouths “You’re doing amazing, sweetie” at him. Tyler would be pissed, but like, he was the one who made it his mission to get Scott to occasionally be more of a selfish asshole specifically so....nah. Fuck it. He was gonna be pissed anyway.

“Ummm,” Mark hedges some more, still scrolling through his phone. He frowns then, and shoots Josh an apologetic glance. “Sorry. Looks like he’s soulless again this week.”

Scott decides to intervene then, looking suddenly concerned. “Uh...does that mean he might maybe almost destroy the world again? Should we go to LA anyway and like...I dunno. Try and help?”

“Help who?” Tyler demands, throwing up his arms in exasperation at the whole day. This is what he gets for getting out of bed, like. Ever. Nothing good comes from getting out of bed. When will he learn?

“I don’t know. Don’t get testy with me,” Scott bites out testily. “The people. Who try and...stop him from destroying the world? Obviously world’s not destroyed so somebody must have stopped him the last couple times which means someone’s probably trying to stop him this time too.”

“Or he could just be really bad at it,” Tommy suggests.

“Nope, we’re good,” Mark interrupts, still on his phone. “It says they’ve got him magically locked up in some hotel so he can’t go anywhere while they wait for their witch friend to bring his soul back and put it in him. I guess after the last time they put like, a low-jack spell on it so if it went missing again it’d just go straight to her, since she’s the only one good at putting it back anyway.”

“Well then,” Tyler says after a moment or two to digest the concept of a low-jacked soul. “That was a super efficient tangent. Are we all good here now at least? Can we move on and like....go somewhere not within range of a serial killer vampire who’s probably miffed at us for being rude and committing some hospitality faux pas?”

Josh sniffs and rubs at his face again, this time with more success. “Yeah, sorry. I’m all good now.”

“Well I’m not,” Aiden yells out then, apparently taking the all-clear on his boyfriend’s issue as a go ahead to vent his own drama. “Am I the only Aiden who isn’t just a complete asshole??”

“I mean, you’re kinda an asshole sometimes too,” Sophia says, idly chewing a nail.

“Not helpful, Soph,” Scott scolds gently. She shrugs.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“Let’s start a pack, you said,” Tyler growls, glaring daggers at his co-alpha. Scott smirks back without remorse. “It’ll be good for us, you said. There’s probably lots of other teen wolves in the same boat as us, you said. Shouldn’t we help them, you said.”

“I did say all that,” Scott agrees. He saunters off, you know, like an asshole.

Two weeks later they’re not far from LA. The vampire has his soul this week and everyone wants to go celeb-watching at the demon dude’s karaoke night. Luke knows a guy who can get them in, apparently. They stop to help a hitchhiking teenage werewolf in trouble because like, Scott has a sixth sense for that shit.

“So what’s your name?” Tyler asks the kid.

“Derek Hale,” he says, and Tyler squints. Why does that name sound familiar. Next to him, Scott hisses like an angry cat. Oh. Right. That.

“You’re not Derek Hale,” Scott accuses, and the kid bristles right back at him. Tyler watches, bemused. Was this a Beacon Hills thing? Or did all of them look like that when having like....what was this, a territorial pissing match? Angsty backstory showdown? What was even happening here, exactly?

“I think I would know, dickface.”

“Look, I’ve met Derek Hale, and he’s like, twenty five, and an asshole,” Scott says. “You can’t be Derek Hale, because you’re like, fifteen, and adorable.”

“Fuck you, I’m seventeen, and fuck you more, I’m not adorable, I will fucking rip your throat out with my teeth, dickface.”

“See? I’m supposed to be quaking in my shoes right now but all I wanna do is pat you on the head and hug you and feed you, because that was adorable,” Scott says, pointing at him. “Ergo, you can’t be Derek Hale, because all I ever wanted to do to that dude was kick him in the nuts for being an asshole who’s all like breaking into my house to tell me we’re brothers now or whatever the fuck that was all about, and then breaking my arm and trashing my phone two seconds later.”

The kid goes quiet. Squints at him. “Wait. Is your name Scott McCall?”

Scott frowns deeper and folds his arms across his chest, shifting awkwardly. He has trouble maintaining his like, Righteous Ire even when he’s definitely in the right, and adorable kid being adorable and no longer even aggressive was making his temper go bye-bye. Ugh, rude. Scotty Rage was hot, and all too rare. Tyler officially hated this kid. Why does he never get to have nice things?

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

The kid fidgets, sullen. “Heard about you. I told you, I am Derek Hale. I just got like, magically de-aged by my pedo ex-girlfriend who’s now even more pedo and creepier and like...whatever, I don’t even know what the fuck that was all about but like yeah. Apparently older me was a huge douchebag and your name came up as proof of his douchebaggery and I booked it awhile ago because like, nobody could figure out how to turn me back and I figured if I gotta be seventeen again at least I’m gonna be seventeen somewhere where people don’t all think I’m a douchebag because of what older not!me Derek the Dickhead did. You know?”

“Not even a little bit,” Tyler says.

“Kinda,” Scott says. He gnaws his lip. “That sucks. Well. You hungry? We were about to go get some dinner. Wanna come with?”

Derek the Littler Dick stares at him before shooting Tyler an incredulous glance. “Is he for real?”

“Unfortunately,” Tyler deadpans. Scott frowns defensively.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dude, you just hated me like ten whole seconds ago.”

“I didn’t know who you were ten seconds ago,” Scott shrugs, as though that explains everything. Problem is, in his head it probably did. Freak, Tyler thinks affectionately.

“Yeah but now you do know who I am and now you know I’m someone you hate? So....?”

“No, you used to be someone I hate,” Scott explains slowly, as if to a small child. “You said it yourself, you’re not really him. Besides, I decided I’m over it anyway.”

“You decided you’re....over it. Anyway.” LDD repeats, breaking it down slowly. As if to a small child. Oh, this is going to be amazing, isn’t it. The other half of Tyler’s future home entertainment gifts him with another incredulous look, like, are you sure this guy is for real? Tyler nods in confirmation.

“He’s just...like that. It’s so weird.”

“Fine,” Derek huffs at last, over aggressively because why stray from a theme, yeah? “But this better not be some fucked up elaborate revenge plan for older me being a dick or like...”

“You’ll rip my throat out with your teeth,” Scott says dryly. The kid sulks.

“Well of course it sounds lame when you say it like that.”

“You still have baby fat,” Scott tells him. Derek shifts into an enraged were-porcupine.

“I so the fuck do not!”

“You have like, chubby little baby werewolf chipmunk cheeks.”

“Asshole!”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“That’s so stupid! You’re so stupid! What are you, twelve?”

“No, that’s you. Look in a mirror, short stuff.”

“Oh god,” Tyler despairs, staring after the two of them walking off towards the rest of the pack. “They’re brothers now.”

#kalen writes crack fic sometimes #look i dont know what this is #i just know it was in my brain #so now its here

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24stiles920 · 6 years ago

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Fireflies

Teen Wolf Rewrite

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: Ages 16+, swearing, blood, dead bodies, brain matter

Words: 2626

A/N: I don’t know what to say about this, so—enjoy! 😊

Season 3A Masterlist

I sighed as mine and Lydia’s screams died down. I held my head, my headache coming back in full force. Lydia sat up and grabbed the aspirin bottle off her side table to get some more medicine, but the bottle was empty. I had taken the last of the pills without noticing.

“Wanna go to Walgreens?” I offered. “I’ll drive.”

Lydia nodded and got out of her bed, pulling her dress down from where it rose up. I copied her movements, fixing my own clothing. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my purse, waiting for Lydia to do the same.

“Mom, I’m going to the store!” Lydia called as we walked out of her room. “Mom, do you hear me?”

There was silence while Lydia’s voice echoed through her house.

“Of course, you didn’t,” Lydia sighed. “If you did, you would have heard us screaming like lunatics in here.”

We left the house and I looked up at the sky, remembering that it was still the night of the full moon. Speaking of lunatics…

“Lunatics.” Lydia sighed, shaking her head, as she stared up at the sky as well.

We got in my jeep and I started driving to Walgreens, which was open all night. We listened to Twenty-One Pilots while I drove, singing along to the meaningful lyrics. I texted Noah as I parked the car and we got out, not looking at my surroundings.

“Uh, Y/N?” Lydia said, her voice shaking. “Why are we here?”

I looked up to see that I was at the public pool. I crinkled my eyes in confusion as I looked back at my car and then back at the pool.

“I-I don’t know.” I stammered, “Why didn’t you tell me that I wasn’t going the right way to the store?”

“I didn’t notice!” Lydia threw her hands in the air, frustrated.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow in pool and stepped closer, gasping when I saw a body.

“Oh, God.” I muttered, horrified. “Oh, my God, please don’t be dead.”

Lydia made a noise of agreement as I walked closer to the pool, hoping that the person wasn’t dead. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

I kneeled down next to the edge of the pool and reached forward, grabbing the shoulder of the person and flipping them over. Lydia and I sighed in relief when we saw that the body was actually a swimming dummy.

“Oh, my God. Are you kidding me?” Lydia exhaled loudly.

I folded my hands together, feeling something sticky all over my fingers. I gasped as I looked at my hands and saw blood coating my hands. I panted in fright as I looked to my left to see a huge puddle of blood, dripping down from the lifeguard stand.

I glanced at the seat on the top on the stand. My eyes widened in horror as I took in the dead body sitting there, with his head bowed and his glassy eyes open in terror.

I screamed and backed away, falling on my ass as I cried. Lydia, sat next to me, holding my hand as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed nine-one-one, crying into the phone as the operator answered. I told them what happened before hanging up and calling Stiles.

“This is crazy.” Lydia’s voice trembled as we waited for someone to get here. “How didn’t we notice that you drove here?”

“I don’t know.” I said mutely.

I heard the tell-tale sound of the jeep’s engine pull up and a door slam.

“Y/N?” Stiles called. “Lydia?”

“We’re over here.” Lydia waved her hand at Stiles.

Stiles ran to me and helped me up, giving me a tight hug and a kiss on my forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Stiles asked, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“I’m okay.” I assured him shakily before pointing over at the lifeguard. “That, over there… Not okay.”

Stiles’ gaze followed in the direction from where my finger pointed, his eyes widening as he took in the bloody body.

“Yeah, all right.” Stiles said, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna call my dad.”

“I already called nine-one-one.” I informed him.

“You called the police before you called me?” Stiles asked incredulously.

“I’m supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?”

“Yes!” Stiles yelled, making me flinch back. “Sorry, baby, I’m just worried.”

“It’s fine.” I whispered.

“When did Lydia get here?” Stiles asked, giving Lydia a curious glance.

“We came together.” I told him. “We didn’t notice where we were going.”

“Oh,” Stiles mumbled, looking surprised. “I-I’m gonna go call Scott.”

He dialed Scott’s number and put him on speaker so that Lydia and I could listen.

“What’s up?” Scott answered, sounding out of breath.

“What’s up? What’s up, is that Y/N and Lydia found a dead body.” Stiles told Scott. “The guy’s totally massacred.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked.

“Yep.” Stiles nodded even though Scott couldn’t see him. “Throat ripped out, blood everywhere. It’s like the fuckin’ Shining over here. If two twin girls come out of the woods and start asking me to play with them forever and ever, I’m not gonna be surprised.”

“Can you get a little closer to make sure it was them?” Scott requested.

“Make sure it was them?” Stiles repeated. “Scott, who else is going around ripping throats out?”

“Please just do it.” Scott pleaded.

Stiles sighed and hung up on Scott, edging closer to the dead body. His eyes were level to the guy’s hand. He huffed as he looked up at the body before backing away as sirens began to ring as cop cars came to the scene.

“He was a virgin.” Stiles muttered to me.

“What?” I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“He has a purity ring.”

Noah walked up to me and placed a comforting hand on my arm.

“You okay, kiddo?” He asked. I nodded, giving him a small smile.

“Okay, I need to ask you some questions.” Noah warned me. “How did you find the body?”

“Lydia and I had headaches, so I offered to drive us to the store. I was driving to Walgreens, and w-we ended up here. I don’t know how.” I stammered. “I saw the dummy in the pool and then I saw the body in the lifeguard stand.”

Noah wrote in his notebook and asked me a few more questions before giving me a police escort home. While Lydia was given a ride home by a deputy, I got in my car and drove home, noticing a certain blue jeep following me.

I got out of my car and walked up the sidewalk to the house. Stiles ran up to me and held my hand, giving me a quick smile as I opened the front door. We walked together up the stairs and into my room.

“You didn’t have to follow me home, babe.” I said, sitting down on the end of my bed. “I know you were busy.”

“I just wanted to make sure you got in okay.” Stiles shrugged, taking a seat next to me.

“I had a police escort.” I told him.

“I know the inner working of that force, okay? They’re not nearly as reliable as people think.” Stiles proclaimed.

“You didn’t have to follow me into my room.” I pointed out. “If you think you’re getting lucky tonight—”

“No, I’m good.” Stiles laughed once. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Are you really gonna go without asking me the question that you’ve been dying to ask me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Well, I’m not—I haven’t been dying to ask anything. I—no questions here for Stiles. Nope. Nothing.” Stiles stammered.

“I can see it on your face.”

“Maybe my face just has, like, a naturally interrogatory exp-expression.” Stiles quipped.

“Stiles, I know your face. You only have that expression when you want to know something.” I gave him a pointed look. “The answer is, I have no clue how Lydia and I ended up finding that body. I didn’t even know where we were until we got out of the car.”

“Yeah, but the last time something like this happened…”

“I know. Derek’s uncle.”

“Peter.” Stiles nodded.

Stiles’ phone rang then, and he answered it. After a quick conversation he hung up the phone and turned to me.

“Get up.” He commanded. “We’re going to the hospital.”

Stiles and I held hands as we walked into the hospital. Melissa was at the front desk looking at paperwork while she waited for us.

“Hey.” Melissa greeted with a quick smile.

“Hey.” Stiles and I said in unison.

Melissa closed the file she was looking over and nodded her head to the left. “Over here. And if you tell anyone that I showed you this, I swear to God, I will kill both of you painfully and slowly.”

She grabbed our arms and led us down the hallway.

“Why do you want to show us a body we’ve already seen?” Stiles asked.

“Because you haven’t see everything.” Melissa said, opening the door to the Morgue. There were two bodies on separate tables, one was the guy I found at the pool and the other was covered up with a sheet. Melissa pulled us over to the guy I found and held the body’s head.

“See this around his neck?” Melissa asked, pointing to an angry, red line around the neck. “That’s a ligature mark. That means that he was strangled with something, like cord, rope—”

“Ah, okay, wait a second.” Stiles interrupted with a thoughtful face. “What kind of werewolf strangles someone? You know, that’s not very werewolf-y.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Melissa nodded, giving Stiles an approving look. She walked to the top of the bed and grabbed his head. “And then there’s this.”

“Holy God, what is that?” Stiles gagged as a mushy substance dripped out of the guy’s skull. “Is that brain matter? Yeah, it’s brain matter, of course.”

“See the indentation?” Melissa asked. “He was hit in the back of the head, hard enough to kill him. In fact, any one of these things could have killed him. I mean, someone seriously wanted this poor kid dead.”

“So then this couldn’t have been Boyd or Cora, you know?” I spoke up. “They wouldn’t have done all that. So maybe this is just one murder. I mean, maybe it’s just a random coincidence.”

“I don’t think it was just one.” Melissa said.

“How come?”

“Because that girl over there, she’s got the exact same injuries.” Melissa nodded to the other body.

We walked cautiously over to the table and Melissa uncovered the body. Stiles let out a gasp as we saw who it was, and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. Heather’s body was on the table and she was in bad shape. Tears gathered in my eyes and I couldn’t believe I was mad at Heather for some trivial things. It seemed pointless now.

“The Medical Examiner said this one wasn’t just strangled.” Melissa informed us. “Whoever did it used a garrote, which is a stick that you put through the rope and you just kind of keep twisting, and—”

Stiles let out the faintest whimper, but both Melissa and I heard it.

“Stiles?” Melissa asked, looking at us only to see tears in both of our eyes. “Y/N? Oh, my God, did you guys know her?”

Stiles nodded.

“I’m so sorry.” Melissa apologized, pulling the sheet back over Heather’s body. “I didn’t even think.”

“We were—“ I spoke up, as Stiles looked so sad. “We were at her party. It was her birthday. Her name is Heather.”

Stiles wiped the tears off his face.

“Okay, we need to call your father, Stiles, ‘cause you’re both witnesses.”

Stiles nodded but froze on the way to grab his phone. Looking at Heather’s body in thought.

“Babe?” I asked gently. “Stiles?”

Stiles looked up at Melissa, an urgent tone in his voice. “Has anyone else been through here tonight? Any—any other bodies, or even anybody missing?”

Melissa and I shared confused glances, but slowly, Melissa answered.

“Uh, no, no bodies.” Melissa shook her head. “But, um—”

“What?”

“Two girls. They brought the first one in, Caitlin, for a tox screen, and then I overheard that her girlfriend, Emily, just disappeared.” Melissa informed us. “I mean, they were out in the woods and—”

“Nobody’s found her yet?” Stiles cut her off.

“I don’t know.” Melissa shrugged.

“Okay, first one.”

“Caitlin.” Melissa supplied.

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “Is she here? Is she here right now?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, where?” Stiles asked, moving to leave the room, only to be stopped by Melissa.

“Okay, okay, wait.” Melissa said. “Just wait a minute.”

“I have to talk to her.” Stiles demanded.

“Why?” Melissa wondered.

“Because I think I know what’s happening.” Stiles announced. Turning to me, he explained. “I didn’t tell you this, but Heather told Scott she wanted to lose her virginity that night.”

“Okay, but—”

“And the guy at the pool had on a purity ring.” Stiles added. “And remember that research we came across that one time? Where the victims were bashed in the head, throat’s slashed, and strangled?”

“Three-fold death.” I realized with wide eyes. “You think they’re sacrifices?”

“That’s exactly what I think.” Stiles nodded, turning to Melissa. “We need to talk to Caitlin.”

Melissa led us to Caitlin’s room, where the girl, not that much older than us, was willing to talk to us.

“We weren’t doing anything that bad.” Caitlin told us. “I mean, I’ve camped out there plenty of times.”

“Right, but why tonight?” Stiles asked.

“We wanted to be alone for one night.” Caitlin sighed. “Emily lives with her mom, and I have three roommates. Not exactly romantic settings, you know?”

“How long have you two been together?” I asked, giving her a small smile.

“Three months.” Caitlin said, looking at her hands with a smile at the thought of her girlfriend.

“And you wanted to make it romantic.” Stiles assumed.

“Yeah, you know, because…” She trailed off, looking away sadly.

“Because it was her first time.” I finished.

Caitlin nodded, a tear running down her cheek.

“They’re gonna find her, right?” Caitlin asked Stiles. Stiles and I looked at her sadly, realizing that Emily probably awaited the same fate that Heather and the pool guy had. “Aren’t they?”

“We hope so, Caitlin.” I took her hand, giving her a soothing smile. “We hope so.”

Scott looked at Heather’s body with an interested, yet sad look. Stiles and I had just explained what happened and that Boyd and Cora, who was Derek’s long-lost sister, come to find out, hadn’t killed anyone.

“So, Boyd and Cora might not have killed anyone?” Scott asked, leaning against a stainless steel table.

“You’re gonna wish they did.” Stiles muttered.

“Why?” Scott furrowed his eyebrows.

“We’re not exactly sure yet.” I started. “The other girl who was out in the woods, Emily?”

“Eventually, they’re gonna find her.” Stiles went on. “She’s one of them. Emily, Heather…That guy Y/N and Lydia found at the pool. All three were virgins…And they’re all gonna have the same three injuries—strangled, throat slashed, head bashed in.”

Scott looked confused, so I tried to clear it up for him. “It’s called the threefold death.”

“So, if these aren’t random killings, then what are they?” Scott wondered.

“Sacrifices.” Stiles sighed. “Human sacrifices.”

Tag list

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soldierwinterthe · 7 years ago

Text

I Believe in Derek Hale (Part Four)

Pairing: Derek Hale x Alpha!Reader

Word Count: 3765

Warnings: none; SPOILERS FROM 6B

Author’s Note: Here’s the last part! Writing this story was fun; I will miss so much Teen Wolf! :(

Feedback is always appreciated!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Walking in the streets of Beacon Hills has become much more difficult. All the people of the city are armed to the teeth, and they know who is human and who is not. Me and Chris can get to the hospital, and while he distracts some nurses, I plunge through the corridors until I reach the room where my mother rest. In front of the room, waiting, there’s Mason, who as soon as he sees me, he runs to me, happy to see me again.

He tells me everything that has happened: someone shot burst into my house, and my mother was injured, but she will recover. Also, Mason reminds me of the last dangers, the hunters who are everywhere, and the Anuk-Ite, who has found his half; if I only met his gaze, my body would turn to stone. Forever.

I thank Mason for the updates, and I get into my mother’s room. Immediately, a hole is formed in my stomach; she is lying on the bed, with wires covering her arms. Her hair is scattered on the pillow, moving just to her breath. I approach the bed, and I sit slowly at her side, to avoid waking her.

Seeing my mother like this.. I can’t breath; I rub her forehead with the lips, and I whisper that I’m sorry to have gone away. I deserve to be in a hospital bed, not my mother. I was wrong to make choices, and she.. that’s not fair.

“Y/n..”

I look up at my mother, and I see her eyes open, looking at me.

I clasp her hands in mine, and I began to cry uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have to leave, I had to stay here with you and Scott.”

“It’s not your fault.” my mother says. She smiles, as if she hadn’t been shot, and now she wasn’t in the hospital. I look down, not even having the courage to look at her.

The shame, remorse, and disappointment I feel towards myself is overwhelming. My mother and I remain silent for a while, listening to the noises of machinery around us.

“Did you find him?”

I raise my face and look at my mother with confused air. How could she know I was looking for Derek? She reads my face confusion, and smiles.

“Chris told me before you and he went away.”

He didn’t tell me; I didn’t think he’d talked to my mother.

I sigh; I left for a mission that really only interested me - leaving my mother helpless - and it failed. I feel even more disgusting.

“It was all worthless. Derek doesn’t want to go back to Beacon Hills, and I can’t force him. I wanted to find him to save him from someone he was looking for, and I hoped he would help me then. But this trip.. has not led me to anything.”

Saying aloud makes me feel a horrible person, but venting to someone I trust, with my mother makes me shrink that hole in my stomach.

“You shouldn’t give up. Maybe Derek didn’t understand your true intentions; talk to him again. Don’t let him go away from you again.”

I look at my mother, and I analyze her words; as I had imagined, she also realized I felt something for Derek. I know what she wants me to do: tell Derek the truth. But even if I had the courage, what would it be for He already loves someone else, and Braeden loves him; being refused by him ‘officially’, would destroy me.

Suddenly, my cell rings; I take it from the pocket of my jacket, and I read the message. I remain breathless.

“Go. Your brother needs you.” my mother says. She always can understand everything. I hug her strong, and promise I’d be back soon to her.

After sneaking out the hospital, I read Scott’s message, before I get in the car and go.

Come to the Deaton clinic. The war started.

“Scott!”

My brother’s message was clear: hunters began to hunt. The Anuk-Ite, thanks to his distortion of fear and reality, has full control over the inhabitants of Beacon Hills.

The war started.

I quickly go to the veterinary clinic, and immediately two arms wrap my body: it’s Scott, happy to see me. I’m also happy to be back, and I will do my best to help Scott and my friends. Before I meet the others, I try to explain to Scott the reason for my departure.

“There’s no need. Stiles told me everything.”

“Is Stiles here?”

I don’t give the time to my brother to respond, that I sling me into the next room. There are all of them: Lydia, Malia, Stiles.. and Derek.

I froze; I look at him, rethinking the last words I’ve told him.

I’m glad you didn’t go back to Beacon Hills.

I swallow, his gaze fixed on mine. Everyone in the room looks at the silent and embarrassing conversation between me and Derek.

“Y/n!”

My eyes drift away from those of Derek, and move on to the figure beside Malia. I smile, and walk to Stiles, embracing him.

“I’m glad you’re here, Stiles.”

“I’m happy too. To be here. And also that you’re here.”

I roll my eyes; it’s Stiles.

I turn back to Derek, and I greet him, without another word. He only makes a slight nod of his head. During our stay in the clinic, Scott tells everything that happened at Beacon Hills, while Stiles tells us how he saved Derek from an FBI blitz. Eventually, we found out that it was Derek to save Stiles.

Finally, we all agree on the plan we will implement: Stiles and Lydia will save Jackson -Lydia has a vision about him, and Gerard has confirmed that Jackson is his prisoner- and Malia, Scott, me and Derek will go to school to look for Anuk-Ite and stop him.

We leave the clinic, and as I walk toward my car somebody grabs me by the arm, and forces me to turn around.

“Let’s take my car? We.. I need to talk.” says Derek.

First hesitant, finally I nod to Derek, who thanked me with a smile. Me and him we go to his car, but not before being stopped again, this time by Scott.

“Y/n, there’s one thing I need to tell you. Deucalion is dead.”

My body froze, and I remain breathless; months have passed since the last time I saw Deucalion. Even though we were enemies, our problems had diminished. Without him, I’d be a simple Beta now. I say nothing, and Scott understands it. I didn’t love Deucalion, but I’m sorry to know he’s gone. And again, the blame is by Gerard Argent. I and Scott, we split, and I get into Derek’s car. He, sitting on the driver’s side, lights up the car and leaves, following Malia’s car toward the school.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s just.. Deucalion was no longer the same as before. He was.. good. Some time ago, he saved my life.”

“Is that why you’ve become an Alpha?”

“More or less.”

Derek and I remain silent for a while. I think of the day I saw for the last time Deucalion; knowing that he’s gone, makes me think that maybe I didn’t thank him enough for what he did for me.

“Is there anything you regret?” asks Derek suddenly. I turn to him, and I wonder why he asked such a question. Anyway, I think for a few seconds, then I answer.

“Don’t leave Beacon Hills a long time ago. First of all, I.. wanted to finish high school. And then go to college; become a teacher, help the kids to school.”

“What happened then?”

“Then it happened that Scott became a werewolf. And I couldn’t leave him alone. Finally, I decided to become a cop, so I would still help people. The entire city. But.. maybe, if I was gone, I wouldn’t find myself here now. I would still be human, and not… ”

“You would not have known me.”

I watch Derek, his serious eyes on the road. Yeah, if I didn’t stay at Beacon Hills, I and he probably wouldn’t have met. I can’t decide, though, whether this was good or bad.

I don’t answer his statement; instead, I ask him the same question he did to me.

“I.. I regret having gone away from Beacon Hills.. with Braeden.”

I remain open-mouthed; this really is the thing of which he repents? Now that I think, he has never named Braeden since we met.

"What happened? With Braeden.”

He continues to stare at the road, but soon I notice that his face seriously turned into a sad one.

“She wasn’t the right woman. Braeden.. is great, but there were a few things we didn’t agree with. There was a certain distance; then I found the corpses of the wolves, and then the FBI gave me the hunt. I saw her only once, and then we said goodbye. Now I don’t know exactly where she is. But Braeden is not that I regret. It’s that.. I should’ve stayed. This is also my city, and I should’ve protected it.”

“Derek.. if that’s what I said..”

“You were right. I made things worse. And now Kate is around with one, or two bullets made with the most powerful wolfsbane that exists, and she could kill Scott. She could also kill you.”

I open my eyes; I didn’t think about it. Now Kate knows I’m an Alpha, and she might want my death too. But to be honest, I don’t care; my only purpose is to save Scott. Nothing else matters.

“It’s not your fault, Derek. All this.. is the Gerard’s fault, the Kate’s, the hunters’. And I was stupid to pick on you.”

“You protect your brother. That’s all.”

The conversation between me and Derek ends, since we finally got to school. Me and him get off the car, and we approach Scott and Malia as they are already opening the doors of the school. The corridors are dark and cold; not even the moonlight reflects in the windows of the school. It’s a very disturbing thing.

The four of us begin to walk through the corridors, carefully to the noises around us, carefully to the arrival of Anuk-Ite.

Suddenly, someone behind us comes from the same doors we passed a few minutes before. We all turn to the door; in front of it a young woman with a gun in her hand. Although I haven’t seen her many times, I know who she is: Monroe, school counselor, and hunter, Gerard’s pupil.

We are ready to face her, but we don’t have the time; she shoots one shot. Only one, and then, she runs away. The bullet doesn’t strike me, fortunately; it doesn’t hit Malia, and doesn’t even hit Derek. When I turn, I see my brother Scott press against his shoulder. The bullet hit him.

I approach him, and I grab him by the hips, trying not to fall to the ground. Derek helps me carry Scott in one of the classrooms while Malia runs to Monroe, intent on escaping.

“Scott, take off your hand, I have to see the wound. Please, move your hand.”

Scott seems to suffer a lot, too much for a simple bullet. I’m panicked, finally getting Scott to let me check the wound.

“Derek..”

Derek approaches Scott and checks the wound. It’s the bullet created with the wolfsbane that Kate stole to Derek. I feel the breath to miss, while Derek starts wandering around the room, looking for somebody.

“Derek.. we have to save him.”

“I’m doing it, Y/n. I’m looking for..”

Suddenly, I hear somebody shouting my name in the corridors: it’s my mother’s voice.

“Y/n!”

Scott calls me, but it’s all worthless; I’m already out of the classroom. I look around, walk for a while, and then I hear some steps behind me.

I turn around, but then I stop: stupid, stupid, stupid. I’m stupid. How could I think my mother was here? It’s not her: it’s the Anuk-Ite.

“Y/n.. how could you? Leave me alone.. it’s your fault if I’m almost dead.”

I froze; immediately, I close my eyes, and I try not to hear the words of the creature.

“Don’t you even look at me honey? Please, save me. I need your help. Look at me!”

“You’re not real!”

Turning away, I start running, never opening my eyes. I touch the wall to my left with my hands to try to orient myself.

“Y/n.”

I stop, feeling my name again, but this time it’s not my mother. It’s my brother Scott. I start walking again, but something blocks my way; I understand that Anuk-Ite is right in front of me.

“Y/n.. look at me. Why don’t we fight you and me? Are you afraid of being too weak? Well, you are. Let’s see who is stronger among us. So we both know that I, and only I, am the real Alpha.”

I shudder when I feel the creature’s face a few inches from mine, his breath lounging in my face. I remain indifferent to the Anuk-Ite words, and with all the strength I have, I give a powerful kick in front of me. I don’t check if I hit the creature or not, I run away.

“Y/n!”

I snap my eyes wide open, and I slammed against Derek’s body. He helps me to get up quickly from the ground, and we run away; but Anuk-Ite is already behind us, and this time he tries to hit Derek.

“Derek..”

I remain breathless, knowing who the voice is, the creature is imitating. I’m back to both Derek and Anuk-Ite, and all I can do is listen.

“Derek, it’s me, Jennifer. Don’t you want to see me again? I really want to see you.”

I can’t watch the eyes of Derek, but I can feel his pain, and his despair, listening to Jennifer’s voice after so long. When Derek knew her, he was immediately trusted, making a serious mistake. As he loved her, Jennifer turned out to be a monster.

“Derek, open your eyes.”

Jennifer’s voice becomes more and more distorted, to reveal the real voice of the creature; I turned a little, and with the tail of my eye, I see Derek’s body turning more and more towards the Anuk-Ite.

Mentally, I implore him not to do so, to resist the torture he is undergoing; we both know what happens if our eyes meet those of the Anuk-Ite: our bodies turn completely into stone, and our heart beat is slamming more and more until we get to death.

Derek doesn’t seem to want to stop, and with an act of great strength and courage, I attract the attention of the creature.

“Wait! Take me, not him. You said you wanted to see who was stronger between me and you. I’m ready now.”

The Anuk-Ite doesn’t repeat it twice; moving away from Derek, he comes to me, meanwhile I have my head down, facing the floor.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, I look up, and I hope that Derek goes away, looking for my brother, and also to save himself.

“Y/n..”

Derek is behind me, my back touches him; I reach a hand back, intertwined with his.

“It’s all right, Derek. I.. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about everything. Please save my brother.”

Derek tries to say something, but now his voice is just a faint sound; at the same time that my eyes meet that of the Anuk-Ite, everything becomes confused. The breath begins to disappear, and my body gets stiffened more and more. I close my eyes, hoping with all myself that Derek, Scott and the others are safe. Hoping that after death, there is something better on the other side.

I had imagined death very differently. I thought that the other part was an empty, completely dark place. Or maybe the flames wrap everything, even me.

Instead, what I see, it’s just an endless loop of memories and memories.

My first memory is that of an ordinary day. I was a teenager, while my brother Scott and Stiles were still kids. In my memory, I, my brother and his best friend, are in the garden at Stiles’s home while we play. We are so happy and carefree; nothing can hurt us.

A lash of eyelashes, and the memory changes: this time, it’s night, and I hear strange noises coming from outside my home. I get out of bed, and I find that Scott has just returned secretly at home. I reproach him, and I send him to bed because he seems to be not very well. No one, not even me, would have imagined what had actually happened that night. That was the day we found out that Scott had been bitten by a werewolf.

Another memory: me, sitting on the sofa in the Derek’s loft, Erica is close to me. We are just me and her, that we start a strange conversation. She tells me it would be interesting that I was bitten by Derek, seeing what I feel for him. I watch her while she smiles. I remember being angry with her for the words she had just said. I didn’t want to be bitten or Derek, or anyone else.

Another memory, another, and another, pass through my head faster and faster, so that I get a headache.

Suddenly, the silence. I look around and recognize the room I’m in: Derek’s loft. But this time there is no Erica, nor the old angry me. There’s only me.

“Y/n.”

Derek’s voice begins to echoing in my head, and in the walls of the room, but he’s not really. Derek continues to say my name, but nevertheless I try with all of myself, I can’t figure out where exactly it comes to his voice.

Then, it all happens in a few seconds; I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but it’s as if my body vibrates, more and more, until I suddenly find myself back in school corridors. I fall to the ground on my knees.

I’m trying to figure out what happened, but I don’t have time: the sound of a gun that’s loaded makes me hit my head by looking at the man in front of me. He’s one of Gerard’s hunters.

My eyes turn, becoming red while attacking the man in front of me; I disarm him, and I push him against a wall, losing his senses.

But other noises of footsteps, and arms I hear behind me. At a disadvantage, I raise my hands over my head. In the meantime, I turn around and I hear strange groans. Gerard’s men are unarmed to the ground, and in front of me there is Derek, completely unharmed. Without thinking twice, I run to him, and embrace him.

“Are you okay?” we both ask at the same time; I smile, nodding at his question. “I thought I lost you.”

Derek touches my face with his fingers, my eyes continue to move from his lips, to his eyes, and then back to his lips.

“We have to look for Scott and the others.”

I clear my throat and move away from Derek, ready to go to any school room to find my brother, but Derek pulls me to him, and I understand what’s happening just when his lips press on my lips. I don’t rebel, and placing my hands behind his head, I hold him as much as possible for me, as if he was my lifeline right now. Maybe he’s always been my one. Derek’s hands tighten my hips, while our mouths move in sync; I remove him from me, with a grin on my face. I don’t want to let him go, not now that something so important has happened to us. Derek notices, and a smile shine over his face.

“Why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to do when I saw you, but I’ve been very busy.”

I laugh; the world around me doesn’t seem to exist. We’re just me and Derek. I push him towards me, kissing him again. However, someone interrupts us.

“Y/n! Derek!”

I and Derek look to Lydia to get closer to us; she tries to remain serious, even if a satisfied smile hits her face; I know what she is thinking about. Finally.

“Are you okay?”

I nod to her question. We’re fine.

It’s all over. Almost.

After Lydia found me and Derek, we ran straight into the library where Scott was fighting the Anuk-Ite. To avoid looking at the creature and turning him into stone, Scott had just wounded his eyes, becoming blind. At first he couldn’t cure alone, but then, thanks to Malia, and to the love they felt for each other, Scott recovered the sight.

The Anuk-Ite is dead. Thanks to Stiles, and to Scott’s intuition, the creature was destroyed with the mountain ash. It would have been interesting to see Gerard’s face when his plan to kill Scott and his pack failed; what a pity that he died because of Kate -the latter, she didn’t live long enough to toast her victory over his father. Her brother Chris had struck her with a bullet created with the yellow wolfsbane, also leading her to death.

We have won a great battle, but the war is not over yet. Monroe, Gerard’s favorite hunter, managed to run away, and now, she travels around the world in search of new hunters to recruit to eliminate any supernatural being.

But Scott’s pack is more willing than ever to fight.

Exactly now, I’m in the car, along with Derek, as we head in the place where we have to meet my brother.

If someone had told me a few months ago that he and I would be engaged, I would laugh. And instead, he and I are together, and we are happy. We travel, we joke. We’re fine.

And when Scott calls us, because he needs us, we’ll go straight to his rescue. After stopping the car, Derek and I get out of the car. They are all here: Lydia and Stiles, Malia, Liam, Mason and Cory.

Scott is not far from us, by his side there is a boy, a new werewolf. Scott reassures him, telling him that we will protect him from the hunters who have tried to kill him. The boy turns to us, and asks my brother who we are.

“My friends. My pack.”

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cawcawpeasants · 7 years ago

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Hey! I would like to ask for some Vermillion and Silva headcannons if the families were living in a modern world and maybe for the Black Bulls too? If it's not to much! Thanks!

Thanks for the ask, I will give it my best! :D

Mereoleona: Maybe in the Military, but she would also be awesome as a chef or sous chef in a high class restaurant. I could see her in a workplace thats a bit more secluded, as she doesnt like the fuss politics and economie bring with them. She owns a harley, next to a more practical jeep, and she loves to spend her vacations by making tours on her baby. She also loves Leatherjackets. In her free time she participates in Kickboxing-classes, sometimes even teaching the class when the instructor doesnt show up. Her house is full with weights and she has two maine coon cats (called Simba and Nala, because, even though shed rather die than to admit it, she loves the Lion king and never got over Mufasas death. She quietly checked up on Leon and her father when she couldnt sleep to make sure they were fine and still there)

Leon: He would make a great trainer for a famous team, whatever kinda sport. He probably would take over the familys business, though. It would fit, if their family has something to do with sports equipment. But actually, he is the perfect man for the job of police captain or higher up. Also much political influence, give due to his lineage. Before working he graduated from Law school and is an certificated Lawyer. He is also big on saving animal and helps fighting for their rights in his free time, especially big cats.

Leo: still in school, but he aspires to be like his bro. Hes great in Sports of all kind, and even the Captain of the soccer team. Apart from that he plays tennis, basketball, does judo, rows, and if you would place him on top of a horse he would even manage that. He still lives at home, but he is over at Leons so often that he has Keys, some stuff stored in a closet and the Pull-out couch is also always reserved for him.

Mimosa: Also still in school, wants to become a doctor since she was 5. She is pretty grown up, even for her age, and is a school council member. Sometimes she models for Kirsch, because she still loves him, even though they fight often. She likes to help the underprivileged by tutoring them, this way she met asta, who is a pupil on her sisterschool.

Kirsch: Hes in college and studys fashion and design. He also works as a model, has gotten a role in a movie and runs his own fashion and make-up brand. (Keeping up with Kirsch is a running Headline in boulevard magazines)

Nozel: He would either make a kick-ass attorney or judge (with customized robes), but also be great as head of a company that has to do with aviary systems, satellites, planes or else. Also he has influence on politics and plans to run as major in the future. He is pretty old fashioned when it comes to his freetime-activities. He collects art, stamps and researches birds in quiet. Sometimes he funds expeditions to discover more about rare species, or integral nature reserves. He also bought many plots of lands, where endangered Birds live, all across the world, because the ongoing destruction of their habitat and their extinction is bothersome to him. He has degrees in law and business and is a wanted Single on the market, a circumstance that has led to him living more and more secluded, in the company of a grey parrot. (it once belonged to his mother and sometimes it would say sentences it copied from her)

Nebra: Nobody knows what Nebra does. Nobody dares to ask. She clouds herself in mist and mysteries. She probably works for the government.

Solid: He goes to college, majors in either business or law, because the family wants him to do that. Actually he is more a partyguy, the typical fratboy. Obviously, the frat is like completely his because Silvas of many generations were members. Also he has a thing for fast silver cars. Nozel hopes he will grow out of this eventually.

The Bulls: Okay, this one is tough, I have tried to think of a place where a bunch of adults, teens and kids can live together at. So how about they are all neighbors in a House with cheap rent, and over time they formed a big family?

Noelle: She goes to school, and after she was kicked out she emancipated herself. She moved into the Black bull mansion and lives from her allowance. She works as a waitress in the cafe-bar-restaurant on the groundfloor of the building.

Asta: He and Juno both got scholar ships, he especially for his physical abiltys, but the money wasn’t quite enough for an accomodation, so he lives in a small, run down 1-room apartement and also works in the restaurant, but as a bouncer.

(No, im sure its not legal for minors to work in such a place, but they need the money)

Finral: is a manager and bartender, ran away from home and landed there. After his family got more and more abusive he couldnt stay any longer and nearly ended up as a gigolo, but Yami saved his behind before he could self destruct. He still has the bad habit of flirting with every woman he sees, and hes a day dreamer, but all he wishes for is to find the perfect wife, to have many children and be a stay at home dad. He has a lot of love to give and many holes in his heart to fill. For the time being he is something like the eldest brother of the bulls, and whenever someone has to disappear because some investigations are going on, he knows of many hiding spaces and secret escape-ways.

Vanessa: Also ran way from home because of her abusive mother, is from another country and was found by yami shortly after she ran away. Now she also works as a bartender and sometimes as waitress. She has great talent with sewing, crocheting, making and changing clothes. She takes on jobs on the low from the bulls and other people, she even sells some of her works over the internet.

Gordon: Due to his shyness and anxiety he chose to move into a rather antisocial environment, but got aggressively adopted anyways by the bulls. He makes money as accountant, for the Bulls and over the internet.

Gauche: basically, his story is the same, and after his imprisonment was over hes out on probation) Yami got him a room in the building. Sometimes he works as a bouncer, when they are short on staff, otherwise he works in a library or old book shop. During the nights he takes online classes to graduate from school, so he can one day get a well paying job to provide Mary with all the money she needs to get through live easily.

Magna: Is a punk who got picked up by Yami one day, after he and Luck fought in front of the black bulls base. He works at a local shelter, and plays baseball with kids at the community center. Hes a good guy with a tough demeanor. He also tries to help Yami whenever he can, with whatever he can.

Luck: After his mother died he was sent to a social living community, where his attitude to fight everyone was only strengthend. He ran away after an especially bloody fight and landed on Magnas hometurf. They got into a fight, which woke Yami up, and so he and Magna both ended up living there. Yami said, it was so they could attone for their sin of disturbing his sleep. Luck and Magna share a 2-Room flat, because there weren’t that many 1-room ones left. He works as a courierboy and is known for his quick deliverys, but he also really has a knack for electro-engineering. He plans to graduate, too, someday and to open up his own business.

Charmy: Nobody exactly knows where Charmy comes from exactly. She just turned up one day after she saw, that the Bulls looked for a chef. She only talks about food, and the bulls understood after a while that she really does not want to talk about her past or family. All they know is that she is smaller than average for her age and that her obsession with food could come from shortages of that in her early life.

Gray: Is a nonbinary youth who ran away and lived on the streets. They like to change their looks, now that they make money by working for the black bulls, often just washing dishes, restocking and such. They are great at adapting to new jobs, if these dont require much human interaction. Also the peptalks from the bulls really help. They also posses a great talent for theater works, such as costume design and make up. If they weren’t so shy they would be a great actor too.

Zora: He is one of those inhabitants that come and go. Mostly hes some kind of lone wolf crusader, some sort of social justice warrior who either helps the poor when he sees them being mistreated or posts videos showing misconduct of upperclass jerks. He has a whole network going on, and often sends his videos to the police or news senders, if he has the feeling, that the law enforcement is sweeping something under the rug. He has a high IQ and is proficient in hacking. His mask is his sign, he always wears it when hes in action.

Yami: He is the son of immigrants, or was an illegal immigrant himself. If that was the case, i can imagine that Julius helped him getting citizen status after Yami stopped a Criminal on the run who just happened to run into his direction, looking dangerous and armed. He either is a Detective (private, not police), a headhunter or probation officer. Could also be a cop. Also he runs the Black Bulls bar, mostly so the inhabitants have a place to work at.

- The Vermillions main Mansion would be huge, but more modern. Much space, training rooms, sports equipment, Medals, trophys and certificates won in various tournaments of all kinds by Mereo, Fuego and Leo covering a whole room.

-The Silvas Mansion would also be huge, but more in a Victorian ‘This house belonged to our family for generations’style. The colourscheme is cold, lots of Silva, blues and dark wood. Also so many chandeliers. So many. Also the family crest is everywhere. Its a place that could easily become a filmset for a historical movie.

-They don’t have their name on the Postbox, just the crest. Thats how extra they are about it. (This has also often led to drunk or confused people thinking they are some sort of special church, and then trying to enter the house. These incidents always end with unamused Silvas)

- All the eldest children have moved out of their main Mansions, and live in Flats, Appartments and Mereo in a small house a bit out of the city. They all only come back together for celebrations or in cases of emergencies.

-The Black bulls Castle is officially Julius property, because he has the money and power, also he wants to help his eldest son Yami out. Its a total mess, but the Bulls manage to repair most of it themselves. They love their broken down house so much, the started to call it their castle on the clouds, mostly because it is the biggest building they’ve ever lived in, with more luxury they ever imagined they would ever get to enjoy.

#Caw caw #phew this was a lot #I hope this is okay anon #I couldnt do all aspects that could be part of a modern live thing #and i have probably made many spelling mistakes #but here goes :)#im on a roll #some wild modern black clover headcannons appear

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seengularity · 7 years ago

Text

Side by Side: They Are Real

Pairings: Sam x reader; Dean x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: After you realized your favorite show was no longer just a show, Sam and Dean work and try to get you back to where you came from. Before extracting Lucifer from his vessel, something strange happened that made Sam and Dean think that you were the Nephilim.

Will Castiel kill you when he finds out? Or will Crowley get to you before Cas does? Will Sam and Dean find a way to get you back to your dimension?

Warning: this story takes place in Season 12. It does contain spoilers. You have been warned.

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED AND HELPS ME IMPROVE ON MY WRITING. WHETHER YOU REBLOG OR LIKE IT, LEAVE A COMMENT ABOUT THINGS YOU LIKED OR DID NOT LIKE.

Find part one here

You were so excited to go to school to show your friends that you met Jared and Jensen. Since today was your last day of class for the week, you got to spend all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday posting your pictures and writing on your blog about them.

It was five minutes before noon and you seen your two friends sitting in the grass, side by side.

"Guy's you will never guess who I met yesterday!" You threw your bag to the floor and sat across from them. They scooted in closer, just as excited as you to hear about who you met.

"Who?" They said simultaneously.

You took out your phone and scrolled through your gallery. You had to get your proof ready because you knew they wouldn’t believe you. "I met Jared and Jensen at the store! Look it," you said, as you shoved your phone in both of their faces.

They leaned back to focus on the image on your phone and looked at you confused. "Are we supposed to know these men?" Your friend Noel asked.

"Um yeah! They are the main actors on Supernatural! Don't act dumb. We only watch it every Thursday night," you put your phone down and looked at the picture one more time. You smiled to yourself and remembered the weird and good time you had.

Your other friend, Steph, looked at you, worried. "No, Y/N. We watch reruns of Teen Wolf on Thursday nights."

You furrowed your eyebrows together knowing that a visible wrinkle showed on your forehead when you did that. "What are you guys talking about? We watch Supernatural," you said a little louder. You were starting to become annoyed that they were acting dumb. You knew you were not making any of this up. The three of you had been watching Supernatural every Thursday night since 2008.

Steph and Noel looked at each other and then back at you. "Y/N/N, I don't know what you want to hear. I've never heard of that show and I've never seen those men." Noel placed her hand on your leg but removed her hand when she seen that you were really upset.

You rolled your eyes at them and grabbed your bag. "Whatever. I don't have time to play these games with you guys. I have to go to class. Don't come to my house tonight. You guys can watch Teen Wolf together without me."

You walked quickly to your class before they could catch you, if they wanted to try. You honestly didn't know why they were acting like this. What's the point of acting like a show doesn't exist when they only have blogs of the damn show.

Your class was over as fast as it had started. Thank Chuck it did. You weren't in the mood to learn, thanks to Steph and Noel.

You got in your car and drove home. If your friends weren't excited, at least your mom could be excited with you.

You pulled up into the driveway and seen that your mom's car was missing. You frowned, automatically missing your mom. She's a nurse so she had to work 12-hour shifts. Sometimes even more. You would be lucky if you got a chance to say goodnight to her.

You unlocked your front door and stepped in, smelling the dinner that your mom made before she left to work. You appreciated all that your mom does for you. Especially supporting you while you attended college.

You read the note that your mom leaves every day before she leaves to work:

Dinner is in the oven. Tried out a new recipe. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Love, mom.

You opened the oven and the delicious aroma filled your nostrils. You took out the plate and it looked like Salisbury steaks with mashed potatoes. You dug into the food and you turned on the t.v., ready to watch your favorite show.

Time ticked by and it was almost 8 o'clock. You began to grow more excited by the minute, especially knowing that the guys you met at the store only a day before are now going to show on your television.

8 o'clock comes by and you patiently waited for your show to come on. To your disbelief, The Vampire Diaries opening screen came on instead.

"What the hell is this!" You yelled at your screen with your mouth full of food. "Where's Supernatural?!"

You quickly clicked open the guide an you clicked on search and typed in Supernatural.

There are no search results for "Supernatural"

"What?! I am about to go insane," you said to yourself.

You grabbed for your phone in your bag and you pulled up Google. "Okay, Google, when does Supernatural come on?" You spoke into your phone.

Your phone spoke back to you:

Supernatural 1. (of a manifestation or event) attributed to some force beyond scientific understanding or the laws of nature.

You took a deep breath and sighed. What was going on here? You got up and did the last thing that you could think of.

You went to your room and grabbed your computer. You sat on your bed as you waited for your computer to start up. As soon as it started up, you went on Tumblr to search for Noel's blog. Gone.

Maybe you typed her username in wrong? You typed her name in again. Doesn't exist.

You moved onto looking for Steph's blog. You put in her username. No results.

Your heart began to race and you began to moderately hyperventilate. I do not know what is going on here.

You laid back in your bed and pushed your laptop off of you. You closed your eyes and tried to think about what has happened these past couple of weeks. Ever since 2008, Steph, Noel, and you have watched Supernatural every Thursday night at your house. Nothing had changed other than the fact that the three of you ate candy instead of popcorn last week, but you doubted that was a factor in this problem.

Almost instantly, your eyes shot open and you grabbed your computer again. How could I forget? I have my own blog, duh!

You opened up Tumblr again and you went to your account. Your eyebrows furrowed, for the second time today, as you seen a blog that you had never seen before. It had your real name on it, which you never wanted to put up to hide your identity, and a picture of yourself.

"What is going on here?" You asked yourself once again. You scrolled through the unfamiliar blog, and reposts of memes and jokes filled the account.

"This is definitely not mine." You logged off of the strange account and decided to log into the account that you were familiar with.

You typed in your username and password with ease to only find out that Tumblr had no such username existing. You shut your computer off and laid back down to remember what has happened these past couple of weeks that could of changed something.

Slam!

You heard the front door open and close. You quickly got up and ran downstairs to greet your mom. "Mom! Guess what!" You yelled as you walked into the kitchen where you assumed she would be. No one answered and no one was in the kitchen.

"Mom?" You said again as you began to walk slowly out of the kitchen and into the living room. You didn't see her and you didn't hear anyone moving in the house.

You grabbed your phone off the table and you texted your mom.

Are you still at work?

Bing.

Yes I am. Won't be home till late. Goodnight, love you.

Your heart began to slam against your chest in response to your mother's text. If she's not here, who slammed the door?!

You ran upstairs to your mom's bedroom and searched in her closet for the gun that she kept for safety purposes. You loaded it and you got it ready to shoot. You mentally thanked those shooting and gun safety classes you took with your mom.

As you walked out of the room, you thought it would be smart to call the cops, even if you did have a gun. You searched your pockets for your phone. Crap, I left it downstairs.

You slowly made your way down the stairs with the gun pointed in front of you, making sure that you pointed everywhere, just in case the intruder popped out unexpectedly. You walked into the kitchen only to see your phone was gone and not on the table where you left it.

You continued to search and walk around the house for your phone, with the gun pointed away from you.

You finally spotted it on the living room floor by the television. You breathed a sigh of relief and you placed the gun on the coffee table and picked up your phone. Your fingers rapidly dialed the three digit emergency number and waited to hear the dial tone. There was none.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice from behind you said. You froze in place, too scared to turn around and see the intruder.

"Please, turn around and look at me as I speak to you." The intruder demanded.

Without any warning, a force picked you up and slammed your body against the wall. Your head hit hard against the wall, convincing you that your skull might have cracked.

"Now, I do not like to ask twice," the short man with the beard said. This man was clearly and obviously Mark Sheppard. Unfortunately, that wasn't what surprised you. What shocked you was the fact that he introduced himself to you as Crowley and had you pinned against the wall with some type of force that should only be seen in movies and shows.

"If you are cooperative with me, I might not hurt your mother. Is that understood?" He asked with his eyebrows raised. He waited for your response; You nodded your head.

"Okay let's get started," he placed his hands behind his back and began to pace back and forth. "I'm looking for two hunters. One of my men said they seen you specifically talking to them. They go by the names Sam and Dean Winchester." Your eyes grew wide at hearing the names. This has to be a dream. "I want you to tell me where they are and why they were talking to you or else your mother will be the one that nurses have to tend to."

Read part three here

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