"not hurt you. just scare you." but when he's called cute, derek presses down more firmly, intent on reminding him who's stronger, bigger, and currently holds all the advantage. not that this will shut stiles up, probably, but he does it all the same; doubts even his own life depending on it could get stiles to be quiet. "you're lying." and anyone in his position would be able to tell. not only because stiles isn't great at it, but also because of the jump in his pulse, all the classic telltale signs to any decent werewolf. derek scoffs lightly over the realization, though his gaze doubles in intensity, pinning stiles in place twiceover. "you don't want me to stop." flicks his thoughtful attention to stiles' neck again. "maybe it's my turn to bite you. jog your memory that way." he wouldn't go that far, of course, not really; but letting stiles think he will? invade his space and discomfort him all the further? that might get them somewhere. (aside from simply proving derek's point.)

it's a little humiliating, how effortless it seems for derek to be able to pull him up from the bed, to then press him against the wall. the strong hand that rests on his chest, almost on his throat, has stiles firmly pinned in place. hands fall flat against the wall for a moment, before one then moves to wrap around derek's wrist, ready to make an attempt to pull the man's hand away from him. but.. does he even want to? "oh, now you want to hurt me? that's cute." he smirked. though, derek's next statement made his breath catch again. of course, he should have known that his heightened senses would have been able to pick up on the slight raise in his heart rate, and the way his stomach fluttered. "what?" stiles quickly sputtered, shaking his head rapidly. "i don't know what you're talking about. i.. i don't LIKE this at all. in fact, i'd really rather you took your hands off me." that's a lie, and stiles knows it.

"i'm not really worried about bashees." witches, though, are a problem, and one he isn't particularly looking forward to facing. "what are you saying? that you're opening yourself up to protect her and whatever creatures she's founding this school for?" the language sounds accusatory, but his tone isn't. if anything, he's studying her with faint surprise — even admiration. far gone, it seems, is the generation of hunters intent on killing anything different from their own. "if you trust her, if she's out to help kids, i wouldn't call it a mistake. but i do want to talk to her; see if she could be a lead to what happened to stiles."

IT WAS WEIRD AND IT WOULD PROBABLY ALWAYS BE. While she wasn't exactly the cause of all the Hales' troubles, she had a hand in it and she made it her mission to make it better. She couldn't bring the Hales back but she'd sure do her damnest to help others like the Hales. "I don't know if it's vampires, Derek," Allison admitted, voice lowering between the two, "but I made a promise to only protect those who can't protect themselves. Not everyone's lucky to be born with a pack or have a sick sense of control. Werewolves and vampires aren't the only species we have to worry about anymore. There are banshees and witches, and god knows what else. If Caroline needs help... I'm going to help where I can. and if it's a mistake, it's my mistake to make."

it's too dark, too cold, too isolated out here; he doesn't like that lydia's banshee instincts drove her all the way out here, barefoot and alone. most especially not right now, while beacon hills is crowded with vampires and one of their own has already been attacked. "lydia," he murmurs again, as soon as she says his name. he runs his hands up and down over her arms, using the friction to bring more warmth to her undoubtedly freezing limbs. "i'm getting you out of here. my place is close." and there's not a chance he's taking her back to hers just to let her instincts overwhelm her again and send her off someplace dangerous. "are you having any visions? or hearing anything?" regardless, he gently takes hold of her arm, guides it around his own shoulders — and sweeps her up into his arms, intent on carrying her the rest of the way to safety.

Lydia never knew how she found herself in these places, it would go dark, completely dark, something would take over her and draw her to certain places. Mainly those that death occurred at or was going to occur at. This time however it was different, the feeling was different and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The sensation of pain and death filled her body aggressively, a piercing scream left her lips. Tears streaming down her face as her cold tears ran down her face. Whatever was going to happen here...whatever had happened here. Was going to change things. For a moment she didn't even notice Derek or his touch. The warmth of his jacket being the thing that brought her back. An aggressive gasp passing her lips as she was finally hit back to reality. ''D-Derek?'' her voice was almost a whisper as she spoke his name, her eyes darting around her to try and sense her surroundings. It was happening again.

to her point, she doesn't smell anything like a vampire might; she's all earthy, a touch of spice. "what are you, then?" there's something off he can't entirely place — something about her that counteracts what would otherwise simply appear to be an abundance of normalcy. "and what's your business here? don't say visiting family. there's a lot more to our refugees from mystic falls than meets the eye, and you obviously already know that." she knows too much about vampires, maybe too much in general, with that spark in her eyes like she's already uncomfortably familiar with him.

To be thought as a vampire truly took death aback . the thought was ridiculous enough to get the primordial being to actually laugh . ❝ ⸻ I am not a vampire . ❞ she stepped closer towards derek . ❝ I do not have vervain on me , the sun isn't out for me to walk into , I could bite you but no fangs will come out or you could bite me , in which your bite will not kill me . Do I smell like a vampire to you ? ❞ Death stood in front of derek and smiled , showing her own pearly white teeth and knowing her own scent to be of gardenias . spicy , zesty scent with green earthly undertones ❝ ⸻ I am not from mystic falls but I do have family from there . ❞

this much is clear: stiles is quite literally asking for it. there's absolutely no way a guy this smart doesn't know what's going to happen by saying such a thing. so derek does what he needs to; he grabs stiles and lifts him out of bed entirely. it's just one smooth turn before he's pressing stiles' back against the wall, pinning him there with a hand high on his chest, palm practically wrapped around the base of his throat — but avoiding the slender column of his neck, mindful of any lingering injuries. "this is why you keep getting hurt," he points out in another low murmur. studies those wide eyes as he processes the scents in the air between them now; not fear, but ... "—stiles." thoughtful, listening to the rhythm of his heart. "you're not supposed to like it."

breath catches, eyes widen and his pulse quickens. how can he make it any less obvious that derek still gets to him? stiles licks his lips, his eyes flickering to find derek’s for a very brief moment. the way his hand balls into a fist, burying the fabric of stiles’ hospital gown in it and lifting his body from the mattress, as stiles’ heart skipping a beat. the close proximity between the two of them has his breath catching again. he can feel the warmth of derek’s breath, and for once it isn’t fear that stiles feels when faced by him. it’s something entirely different, something that makes his stomach flip. “i’m not afraid of you.” stiles murmurs quietly. the statement was true. but.. unnecessary. something he’d definitely said to push derek’s buttons a little more.

"i'm hoping so." he's almost startled to hear her laugh; almost assumed, at this point, that hales and argents had developed the silent agreement to at best hold each other at respectful arms' length, much less make each other laugh. "you think she's opening a school for vampires?" his eyebrows furrow, instantly troubled by the idea. "or more? it's a bad idea no matter how you look at it. it wouldn't last. it'd be even more of a beacon for trouble than beacon hills itself."

SHE LAUGHED JUST ENOUGH TO SHOW HER AMUSEMENT before it died down. Keep it serious Allison... but she wanted to see Stiles handcuffed to a hospital bed now. "I'm sure his dad's already way ahead of us." Poor guy. He had to learn of her return in such a way that was already traumatic. "They're not all that bad but with how many of them, it's going to be difficult to figure out whose responsible for it. We could ask, uh, Caroline Forbes? I think that's her name but she's apparently planning on opening a school for the gifted. I don't need to be a rocket scientist to know what that means."

there's nothing more satisfying right now than the alarmed look in stiles' expression, the new too-fast tempo of his heartbeat. this tug-of-war, playing stupid games and winning unbelievably stupid prizes with him — yeah, maybe derek missed it. "you know i would." he pulls up on stiles' gown a little to prove it, dragging the human back up into just enough of a sitting position to find himself face to face with derek, in close proximity, as if stiles the ragdoll doesn't weigh enough to give him any trouble at all. "the question is whether or not you're going to make me feel like i need to." derek's steady gaze flicks from the depths of his brown eyes to those nervous, slightly parted lips and back again. "what do you think, stiles? still pretending to be scared for the sake of my ego?"

the playful retort has a smirk crossing stiles’ face, a brow then arching. “i’d say it’s about 50/50.” he laughed again, nose wrinkling a little. stiles was, quite frankly, a master at provoking people. he knew exactly which buttons to press and how to rile them up, and he’d gotten that skill down to an art form where derek was concerned. what he hadn’t expected however, was the other male’s next move. chocolate hues watched, and lips were pressed together in a thin line as derek stood up, then approached the bed. a large hand smoothed over the hospital gown, making stiles’ breath catch, until he then began to feel the pressure of derek pinning him down, showing the strength that stiles knew damn well he possessed. brows raised, heart rate increased, and a slight sweat began to form on his brow. after all these years.. derek was still just as unpredictable, and knew exactly how to get under stiles’ skin. chocolate hues flicked up, seeing the shining crystal hue of his eyes. “the wall?” he sputtered, voice cracking, lashes fluttering. “you wouldn’t.” oh, but stiles knew damn well that he would.

"you mean most." but his playful counter (or what can count as playful for derek hale) doesn't last long; can't even manage much of a reaction to frowny little face before the rest of stiles' frankly offensive statements sink in. "you'll pretend?" his eyebrows inch up his forehead. the longer those brown eyes shine at him, the more intensely he finds that he needs to put the human to the test. "sure, stiles. sate my ego." up derek gets from his chair, nonchalantly stepping up to the hospital bed, fingers carefully reaching out to smooth a wrinkle from stiles' hospital gown. only that hand presses down, firm and abrupt, shoving and pinning stiles as far back against his bed as its current half-upright position will allow. derek leans in, leans over him, intense gaze flicking a brilliant shade of blue as his fingers curl into a fist where they rest against stiles' chest. "do i need to pin you against the wall next," he says, low, "or does this cover it?"

when derek mentioned the list of people wanting to snap stiles' neck being too long, he gasped, feigning offense. "hey! surely not everyone in beacon hills wants to snap my neck, just... you know, some.." he said with a dramatic sigh, a chuckle then following. a plafyful smirk settles on his face as he considers the words derek says. at his proposal of scare tactics, stiles rolled his eyes. "derek, please, we've come a long way since junior year, when i was terrified of your frowny little face and bad attitude." stiles grinned, teasing derek, chocolate hues shining playfully. "but if you want to try, be my guest. i'll even pretend to be scared for your ego's sake." honestly, stiles just wanted to see how this would play out, the thought of amusing him.

he doesn't need to read minds to understand what jackson's intent is; everything from his hostile body language to the scents permeating the air tells him all he needs to know. it's easy to catch up, even easier to haul him back with a firm hand. "jackson," he counters, calm, squeezing just enough to place some extra intent in this redirection. "welcome back. why don't we try to avoid creating any messes while we're in town?"

[ palm ] sender places a hand on receiver to stop them from doing something @d3reks

anger like a raging inferno, claws digging into palms and teeth bared, jackson was ready to attack. there had been a small mutter, a mention of the crazy martin girl. he didn't need to protect lydia, nor did he have to. but, there was absolutely no way that he was going to stand by and watch as someone spoke badly of her. standing up from his seat, he made a bee line for the man. a hand reaches out for his shoulder, until he feels a hand on his own. hues flickered electric blue as he shot a glance back. seeing derek hale, a blink follows and his eyes return to their normal colour, and claws immediately retract. "derek.."

it's her distant scream that pulls him into the woods in the middle of the night, chasing the scent of fear that follows closely behind. it isn't too long before he finds her — standing barefoot in the dirt in just a nightgown, expression lost and unfocused, dried tears over her cheeks — but he was half afraid, for a second, that it was just long enough to be too late. (he's had a few too many instances of exactly that, hasn't he?) "lydia." a sharp inhale, a glance around tells him no one else lingers here, so he goes directly for her. his hands falling on her shoulders feel skin cold enough to warrant derek immediately removing them again to slide out of his jacket, pull it around her smaller frame. "lydia. can you hear me?"

@littlemissr3d !

"i'd imagine it's pretty difficult to find decent employment as a vampire." quirks his eyebrow in challenge, daring her to deny it; he can smell it on her, hears that telltale lack of a pulse.

''Touche'' Naomi rolled her eyes with a smirk, taking a sip of her drink. ''The owners are great, I have no problems with them they treat us brilliantly. Best bosses i've ever had.''

"i'm here, aren't i?" lets that speak for itself; wouldn't just turn up at the bedside of anyone from beacon hills. "good point. the list of people who secretly want to snap your neck is probably too long to bother with." he can't help but smirk just a bit himself when stiles' own smirk vanishes and transforms into that stupid pout. "you said you were up for it, and that'd be the easiest way to get your blood flowing. would you prefer i try to scare you?" a touch of rare curiosity makes him lean forward, elbows resting on his knees, an intense focused stare locked intently on the human before him. "i'm guessing you still find me intimidating enough."

stiles shot derek a playful glare at the threat of putting him out of his misery. "gee, thanks derek, always looking out for me." he mused with a roll of his eyes. when derek delved into questioning potential suspects, stiles put on his mock detective face. "nope, no recent vampire friends, but i'll make sure to check my list of 'people who might secretly want to snack on my neck' just to be sure." he quipped, smirking. the mention of jumping jacks, however, wiped the smirk off stiles' face. "jumping jacks? are you trying to kill me faster? i'm fragile right now, derek. be gentle with the injured." he gave a mock pout, though the banter between them continued to lighten the mood.

he folds his arms over his chest, distrusting, suspicious. she hasn't done anything wrong, exactly, but again he can't shake the feeling that there's something off about this. about her. "i'm not hungry." you never know what a stranger could put in your food, anyway. "but i might try a drink if you can prove you aren't a vampire." just a few days into being back in beacon hills and he's already had more than enough of vampires. "are you from mystic falls?"

Death was in a good mood . A rarity but not so far fetched . Food always played a factor to it and the pieces are falling where they are suppose to fall . This week they are just playing at being human . turning around with a bottle at hand , death tilted her head and nodded . ❝ ⸻ I am . Food , good playlist playing , and drinks . Would you like some ? There's plenty and bobby back there is an amazing cook if you're hungry . ❞ Death offered as they used the remote to lower the music a bit . DEREK HALE . ❝ and I have a calling for bartending if you like a drink instead . ❞

it's all he can do not to let his temper flare up; just how many vampires are in town, now, and how many more of them is stiles bound to piss off? "and you're not exactly welcome here. find someplace else to feed on before i give you a better reason to leave."

"HAVE YOU EVER MET A VAMPIRE BEFORE?" Enzo wondered as he set the body down, noting it was still alive but currently more or less asleep. "We're not exactly subtle." He hadn't attacked them or was in search of blood. It was more so he punched the guy in the face after he thought it was wise to attack him. Sure, he could've just snapped his neck but why not give the guy a crappy nose job instead?

"an angel." that takes him aback. he's heard of them, of course, but never met one in the flesh; never even known anyone who has. derek watches him with less hostility now, taking him in, the unsteady posture. what happened to him? "what's an angel doing in beacon hills?"

a deafening silence beckons his thoughts. he remains still to ward off the wobble of his knees, swallows to ensure that when he speaks, he doesn't stutter like he knew he would. "not easily." he admits, "as time moves, i seem to..." was it the fault of time? of falling from grace? or was it simply guilt that rendered him nearly helpless? in other words - human "i'm an angel." castiel states, "and not in a metaphorical sense."

dips his head in a single nod of acknowledgement. "i have. i noticed. he'd be better off if we handcuffed him to the hospital bed." which is an idea, actually, so he tucks it away in the corner of his mind for later, just in case. silently chews on allison's next response — who else might come back from the dead? an old enemy, next time? family? (he discards that possibility quickly; better left unhoped for, unfelt.) "i don't like it. it's obviously related to all of our mystic falls refugees; and there's way too many of them."

BEING ALIVE WAS A NEW EXPERIENCE EVERY DAY. It's not like she could expect it not to be weird for others when she felt the same way inside. Allison hadn't needed to mention her fear of people coming back that shouldn't. Everyone had that feeling. The person in front of her though? He's both a welcome and curious sight. Of course Scott called him. "Have you seen Stiles? He's going stir crazy in his room." There had been a feeling that he wasn't being truthful, not in the sense that she could hear his heart or anything, but he had shifty eyes. In again, it's Stiles. His whole behavior was shifty and vibrating. "Uh, thanks." There's a temptation to be honest about how she felt about it but due to both her and her family's history with the Hales, she suspected he might not want to know that. "No, not really. There have been a couple outside of me but no one knows why."

"nothing welcome here." and definitely not after stiles' recent vampire attack. flicks a glance at the person slumped nearby before his irritated gaze returns to the creature in front of him. "this is your warning. get out of my town."

with a turn of his heels, elijah's smirk is subtle, his look inquisitive. fingers curl around the post of a fence, his eyes focused on derek instead of the body that slumps against it. "and what exactly do you believe that you saw?"