#mccall!pack x reader

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Cold and empty (2/2)

Warning: More Angst, but also the promised fluff. Also one (1) corny joke that is not at all funny Wordcount: ~2k Summary: Now that the world knows about your biggest secret you fret that the life you knew will now change forever. Is there any way left to fix things?

Part 1 When you woke up, you were alone. What greeted you when you opened your eyes was the white ceiling of the hospital room that you quickly identified. The memories of what happened flooded your mind and your hand immediately wandered towards your stomach. You felt the rough material of the gauze wrapped around you and you expected a sharp pain to shoot through you. Nothing. You frowned when you noticed that your whole body was numb and you felt slightly out of touch with your body and your mind. What was going on? you asked yourself and looked around the room. The door to the hospital floor was closed and the window beside it was hidden behind the blinds, and the room itself was completely empty except the medical machinery and the lone chair beside the bed you laid on. Then your gaze landed on the window that was on the opposite side of the room. The first sunrays of the day shone through it and coloured the sky in the astonishing colours of dawn. How long have you been out? was the first question that filled the foggy space that was your mind. You had no sense of time at that moment. You closed your eyes to clear some of the confusion and daze you were in when you realized the extent of the situation. There had been police In your house, the pack had been at your house... There was no way they wouldn't know about your situation now. What now? The authorities now knew that you were a minor without any guardian. You were surely done for. Should you just leave, try to run away, make your own way. The thought had your heartbeat quickening in nervousness and fright. Leaving your pack? The people you loved and who loved you? Being completely on your own? Before you could make any sense of the thousands of thoughts that started to fly around in your head the door opened and Melissa came rushing inside, stopping at your side and taking your hand in her. "Shhh, it's okay. You're okay. Everything is fine, don't be scared. I know you're confused," she calmingly muttered to you while stroking her thumb over the back of your hand. Slowly, but surely your heartbeat calmed down. "Do you remember what happened?" she asked, carefully looking at you from where she kneeled beside you. "Y-yes," you weakly crooked out, only now realizing how vulnerable your voice was and how hard it was to speak. "That's good," she mumbled while standing up again and looking at the machinery surrounding you, "You really frightened us all big time. You were in the operation room for almost 12 hours. The bullet pierced through your stomach so we were all quite worried about if you would make it, but it's all okay now. You'll be in pain for a while, right now you're still full off pain killers so you won't feel much anyway, but as soon as that wears off, you'll be quite uncomfortable." You absentmindedly listened to her and nodded your head, your gaze now fixed on a spot at the wall behind her. "In fact, there are quite a few people waiting for you out there," she nodded at the door and smiled. You immediately looked at her. "Why do you look so confused, did you think they'd just leave you here alone? Oh no, they've been bugging me and the other nurses and doctors for hours about seeing you and nothing could get them to leave," she chuckled lightly before looking serious again, "do you think you're in a condition to see anyone?"

The entire group of well over ten people (including peter) were sitting, standing and lying in the waiting area on your floor, all of them anxious and worried. Melissa had already told them that you'd make it and that you were stable, but only minutes later she had rushed over to your room, making them even more worried than they had been before. After they had left, Scott and his entourage of angry, straight out furious, wolves/coyotes/chimeras followed the all too apparent scent of the man who had done that to you. It had taken only minutes for them to find him driving away from the city, the speed of his car nothing against the raging pace of your friends. They crashed his car and dragged him to the police station, Scott having his hands full with keeping his betas from ripping him apart (even though he couldn't deny that he wanted to do it himself too). After, they immediately joined Derek, Stiles, Lydia and (to their surprise) Peter in the hospital who updated them on your current condition and the status of your surgery. And then they waited. Except for the occasional toilet-, coffee-, or snack-run, they stayed where they were now and anxiously sat there, with worry painted on their faces. Finally, Melissa came back, looking calm enough for the pack to slightly calm down. "Is she-" "Yes, she's okay," answered Melissa the question of her Son before he could finish it and carefully gave him a smile. "She's awake and I had a quick talk with her and explained the situation-" she started but was almost immediately interrupted by Liam. "Can we see her?" Melissa sighed but kept her calm. "She told me she is okay with visitors, but at the moment I think we shouldn't overdo it. Three people at most and only for a few minutes. The pack shared looks while they silently contemplated who would be the first group who would be able to see you. The eyes quickly landed on Derek who had nervously been pacing through the space between the chairs for hours and clearly was still shaken by seeing you like that and having to sit beside you while he couldn't do anything to help you except making the pain a bit more bearable. "Derek and I will go," Scott stated, using his Alpha-status for his advantage, "and I think Lydia should come as well, she's her best friend after all." A few growls could be heard throughout the group, but no-one disagreed, leaving Lydia, Scott and Derek to follow Melissa to the room at the end of the hall which they knew belonged to you.

Standing in front of it, Derek's hand laid on the door handle, halting for a moment. He was mentally preparing for what could wait behind it, the shock of almost losing you still sitting deep, but when he felt Scott's eyes in his back he took a deep breath and opened the door. There you laid, your gaze was fixed on the window, but when you heard the steps, you looked up to the small group that had entered. When you saw Derek your eyes lit up with happiness and excitement like they always did, and it made Derek almost think that everything was okay, but then your face fell and your eyes avoided looking at your friends. For a minute the room was filled with silence when no one knew what to do or to say. It was Lydia who managed to ease the tension a bit when she walked over to your bed and sat down on the lone chair and took your hand. "Hey," she said, smiling when you finally looked at her. "Hey," you chuckled and intertwined your fingers with her. "How are you feeling?" "I feel like someone shot me," you giggled slightly, hoping that your bad joke would somehow ease the mood, but all you received were stares of horror. "Come on guys, I just almost died, can you at least laugh at my terrible jokes? I mean you won't be hearing a lot of them after that," you whispered the last part, forgetting for a moment that you were- in fact- in a room with two werewolves who basically had superhearing. "What do you mean?" Scott came forward, now standing beside your bed on the opposite side of where Lydia sat. You flinched a bit but sighed defeated. "Don't play dumb... you've seen my house," you tried to shrug, but the first sign of the pain-killers wearing off made you still your movements. "So it's true? Your aunt is gone?" "Yes. Has been for almost a year now. I mean we weren't exactly close so... I was fine. I managed," your tone was laced with defence and you averted your eyes again. "But the Sheriff said that your accounts-" "I had that all calculated okay... I had a plan. I mean sure, my life wouldn't exactly have been the dream of a teenage girl, but I would have ensured that I had another year or so with you guys and now..." your voice wavered and a sob shook your body, a warning about the emotional storm that was about to follow for you. You soon realized that crying after being shot in the stomach wasn't exactly a pleasurable experience and you had trouble trying to hide the excruciating pain that filled you with ever sob. Suddenly it stopped. It felt like all your pain wandered away from your body through the hand that wasn't held by Lydia and you looked down to find a big, rough hand grab it. You followed the black veins that were wandering his arm up and found Derek looking at you with sad, worried eyes. You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could, Lydia interrupted you and you had to tear your eyes away from Dereks. "Why would anything change now?" her voice seemed genuinely clueless and you had to hold back a sigh. "I'm a minor without a guardian who lied to the government for the last year. I can hope that the whole 'faking signatures' thing doesn't end me in jail or in any other legal trouble, but-" "Noah will never let that happen! And if it comes to the worst-case scenario, I'll even call my dad so that he pulls some strings," interrupted Scott frantically, not waiting for what was to follow. "I don't doubt that," you smiled and shrugged a bit, "but... still. They still have to report that my aunt is dead and that I'm alone with the CPS. And then, I'll have to enter the fun roller coaster of the foster care system for teenagers. Yay me!" You saw that Scott wanted to interrupt again but you continued talking before he could. "And even if not, what then. The American health care system is shit if I even get to keep the money that's still in my aunts accounts, then it's gone after I paid the bills for this," I nodded towards my new wound, both my hands still occupied. "So yeah, my only options are pitch, sulphur or wolfsbane..."   "No," blurted Derek who hasn't said anything since he entered the room. "What?" you asked and looked at him confused. "None of this is going to happen. You're neither going to end in jail, in foster care or on the street." "What! How?" "I'll adopt you!" he exclaimed with complete confidence and nodded his head. Silence. You looked up at him with wide eyes. Hope started to fill your heart, but then your sense of reality returned. "It's not funny to joke about something like that," you muttered and tried to let go of his hand, but he just gripped on tighter which would've hurt you if he wasn't still taking your pain away. "I'm not joking Y/N/N." Derek's voice was softer than Scott or Lydia had ever heard and he used the nickname he was so adamant about keeping a secret from the rest off the pack. "Are you sure? I mean if you want a child, then it surely would be better to get a younger one. I'm only a few years away from becoming 18 and-" "I don't necessarily want a child. I already have someone who's like a daughter to me." His eyes were fixed onto you and for a moment you forgot that there was anyone else besides the two of you in this building. At that moment you felt that you could trust Derek's word, that you could trust the hope it installed in you.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Cold and empty (Part 1/2)

Warning: Angst, a lot of Angst, blood, being shot, chance of a character dying,sadness (but do not fret there’s fluff to follow int he next part)  Wordcount: ~2,5k Summary: In a matter of months your life was completely turned around and damned, but you managed to hide it from your pack, scared of the consequences of someone finding out, but when someone waits for you in your own house, more than you’re secrets threaten to spill...

Saturday nights were Pack nights. That was an established fact for everyone who considered Scott McCall their Alpha and/or friend. And so, like every other Friday, you sat on the couch of Derek's loft and shovelled popcorn into your mouth as you watched Stiles and Isaac fight over which movie they should watch next, not minding the fact that it was almost midnight already and Derek looked like he was only seconds away of throwing you out. "Guys, I have a Geography test next Monday and I'd like to learn for it tomorrow so can we call it quits?" asked Lydia, rolling her eyes at the pestering that was going on. "Since when do you need to learn for anything?" you asked giggling and looked at her with a questioning look in your eyes. "Perfection doesn't come from nothing honey," she remarked and brushed her hair behind her shoulder. You just kept on giggling. You didn't mind staying there. You wouldn't mind not leaving the loft again ever. Other than the rest of the pack, Derek liked you and showed it. No one could explain why or how, but somehow he smiled when talking to you and even occasionally gave you a small hug. On more than one occurrence, some people mistook you for his sister or daughter when the two of you were out in public for something pack-related. You didn't mind that, you'd lie if you said that Derek wasn't some kind of father figure for you, but you always tried to avoid these situations, afraid that he would get sick of it or be embarrassed and stop the way he acted around you. But no matter how much you enjoyed Derek's presence or staying in his loft, all good things had to end, and so not long after Lydia's remark you said goodbye to everyone and made your way home. Even though you'd like to stay longer or at least as long as the others, you had a very good reason for always leaving first...

You opened the front door of your house with a deep sigh. What expected you, was the dark, empty hallway that leads to the dark, empty rooms. The house was, quite honestly, in shitty condition, but it was all you could afford besides school and all the necessities you needed. That was the harsh reality of your life. Your parent's had died when you were young and you'd been shipped over to your elderly aunt for her to take care of you. That was how you first got to beacon hills. But not even months after you got there, she disappeared. Completely. Not leaving any traces. Later on, you figured that she had somehow fallen victim to all the supernatural in the city. But your aunt had been a very, very reserved person, never really leaving her house anyways. It was a more-or-less lucky coincidence that she had made you take care of the bills and buying groceries and hygiene articles for the months when she was there. She made sure you knew how to use all her accounts and fake the way she spoke and her signature. It was almost like she knew that you'd be on your own sooner or later. And now you were. You had calculated that you'd have about a year and a half until you'd run out of money, so you planned on keeping everything the way it was for three quarters of a year and then search some sort of undeclared work- since you weren't 18 now, nor you'd be when that time would come- to keep on living. You had long given up the hope of going to college or university. You were happy if you even made it to thirty at that point in your life. Your pack didn't know about any of it and you were more than happy for it to stay that way. The fact that you're aunt had been so reserved when she was still alive made it easy for you to explain them not being able to visit you and that you couldn't join some of there activities because of your money situation (even though the often paid for you, against your will). You tried to keep them away from your house as far as possible. That's why you always left first (with the excuse of your aunt not wanting you to stay out too long) so that they wouldn't offer to drive you over and either see that the house was completely unlit or (in the wolve's cases) smell/hear that no-one was there. To avoid them climbing through your window at night (a habit you knew they had) you had reinforced all locks and windows and assured them you'd be fine. It had worked so far but had cost you half a year of the time left back then. By now, you just wanted to enjoy the time you had with the people you loved. So, like you did almost every day, you strutted over into your room, threw your things into a corner and changed into your PJ's before going to the kitchen to get a glass of tab-water for the night. When the glass was filled you turned around, ready to fall into bed and escape into the dream realm. The glass slipped from your grasp and shattered over the floor when your eyes landed on a dark figure standing in the doorway of the room. With wide eyes, you grabbed for a knife out of the knife stand on the counter. "Who are you?" you asked with a shaky voice, being aware of the seriousness of the situation in a town like beacon hills. The figure took a step forward, stepping into the dim street lamp light that came through the window. It was a middle-aged man with dark hair and a pair of dark sunglasses on his face, he wore dark clothes and held a gun in his hand, aiming at you. He didn't seem supernatural, but you could never be too sure. "Bring me to your safe," he said, his voice threatening low, sending shivers down your spine. "Excuse me?" you asked slightly confused by the whole situation, but raising the knife just a bit. What the hell was going on? When his eyes caught the movement of the knife he unlocked the gun and was ready to shoot at any wrong movement. "You better put the knife down little girl, wouldn't want to hurt a little thing like you, would I now?" You frowned but knew better than to disobey. You put the knife back but kept your gaze on the man. "How did you get in here?" you asked, still highly confused by the situation and not yet very aware of the danger that could enroll soon. "You can have the best locks in the world, but their not gonna do anything against a shattered window," he said as If it explained everything and shrugged a bit, "but anyways... Your safe if you'd be so kind." He waved the gun to the side as if to motioning you to move. You stepped forward a bit, careful not to step into the shards of the broken glass with your bare feet. When you stood in the door, feeling the presence of the still unlocked and loaded gun in the small of your back, you stopped for a moment and looked at the man behind you. "Wait a minute...are you robbing me?" "Are you just realizing that now?" he asked, almost amused by the situation. "Well yes, why would anyone ever want to rob me? I don't have money or anything." "You don't, but I know that your aunt has. A private elder woman that is rarely seen in public: a victim that's almost to perfect to be true," he nudged you with the gun, getting you to slowly walk towards your aunt's old office, which you hadn't entered in months, in which you knew the safe was. You also knew that it was empty of anything worthy... "That I found you and not her just makes it easier." "Uhm...sure, if you say so," you mumbled, not wanting him to notice how nervous you are, even though it would have been perfectly fine to be nervous while having a gun rammed into your back. "How do you know that my aunt has a safe?" you asked, trying to divert his attention enough to find a way to get help or something to defend you. "I installed it a few years back and now I want what's in it," he simply stated as if it was obvious. You swallowed, a lump in your throat getting bigger because you comprehended that there was nothing there for him to get and, even worse, you saw his face. He didn't plan on you getting out of that alive. Shit. Quicker than you wanted you stood in the office in front of the safe hidden behind a fake back wall of a small closet behind her desk. While you had entered you had caught sight of the old-style dial phone on your aunt's desk that you didn't remember ever disconnecting. That could be your change, but you had to play your cards right. With careful movements, you entered the combination to unlock the safe and waited for the 'thud' of air that would come out as soon as it was ready to open. As soon as it's inside was exposed, you stepped back and made space for the robber to look through it. you hoped he would take some time to look through the different documents and boxes full of sentimental stuff that your aunt has wanted to keep over her years. As silent as possible, you stepped behind, even more, stopping in front of the desk. For a second you considered just running away, but the man had made sure to close the door so that he would have enough time to shoot you when you'd try to escape. Carefully, you dialled Parrish, who's number the pack has forced you to memorize it in case they weren't there and you needed help. You had considered calling Scoot, Stiles or Derek, but you didn't want them to risk getting exposed while saving you, you wouldn't want to be the one at blame for that. You didn't hear if he picked up or said anything, instead, you laid the telephone handset onto the desk beside it's stand in hope that it wasn't too obvious. Before you could do anything else, the man's voice disrupted your thoughts: "THERE'S NOTHING IN HERE!" He screamed and turned around, anger visible on his face. "It's not my fault you decided to rob me," you said, louder than necessary with the goal of Perrish hearing and understanding the situation. Instead of answering, he stormed at you and raised his hands, the gun in his clutches.

Parrish had been sitting at his desk, typing away on the computer when his phone started to ring. He was doing a late shift, finishing up on some reports, so he didn't mind a little distraction. he didn't recognize the number, but the area code was from beacon hills so he guessed it was someone on a landline. He picked up. "Hello, Deputy Jordan Parrish here." No answer. He frowned and looked at his screen to make sure that he had actually answered. His thumb was already on its way to hang up when something loud was heard. He immediately raised it to his ear again. "Hello?" he asked again, but instead of an answer, he heard a voice that sounded eerily like yours. "It's not my fault you decided to rob me." He immediately stood up from his chair and waved over to the sheriff alarmed. Then there was a loud bang echoing through the speaker and Jordan immediately ran through the station, leaving a confused Sheriff at his desk. He jumped into his car and speeded into the direction of your house, while- even though it was dangerous- calling the sheriff and explaining the situation and asking him to send back-up. He knew that he'd most likely also call Stiles, so the pack would know in a while anyway.

Jordan pulled up at your house, almost surprised that the wolves hadn't gotten there before him, and immediately ran to the entrance, gun in hand. The door stood wide opened and a part of him hoped that you had managed to escape and not the alternative of whoever was with you having run away. "Y/N?" he shouted while entering, looking around. He had almost overheard the gargled caught that sneaked through the halls in response. Following the sound, he entered a room that looked like an office, even though the shelves and furniture looked dusty, like to haven't been cleaned in months. On the back of the room was a safe which was opened and devastated and on the desk in front of it laid a dial phone that had been smashed into pieces. You were nowhere to be seen. Jordan was almost ready to leave the room and search for you elsewhere again when he heard another small cough from behind the desk. He surrounded it and immediately saw you. You sat, or rather laid, on the floor, leaning against the cabinet that was included in the desk with your bloody hands clutched over your stomach. You were incredibly pale and there was blood running from your mouth. Jordan quickly realized the situation. You had been shot. You were dying. "Y/N! Shit, okay, we're gonna fix this okay. We're gonna fix you. Everything will be okay," he rambled, trying to keep himself calm why he sat down beside you and helped to stop the bleeding as best as he could with his hands. "Y/N?" he heard Derek's voice echoing through the house and immediately called out to him. When Derek saw you laying there, looking like your life was about to leave you any moment now he stopped. His world froze around him. Even though it most likely has only been seconds, it felt like hours had passed before he snapped out of it when the rest of the pack also entered. Later on, he'd wonder how the non-wolve members had managed to get there so quickly, but at that moment he couldn't care less. "What is going on?" asked Scott who only had the info that you were in danger. He saw the way Derek was staring at Jordan who sat behind a desk and stepped beside him and his breath got caught in his throat. Finally freed off being frozen by the situation Derek snapped into action. "We have to get Y/N to the hospital!" "We can take my car," Jordan offered, his hands still clutching onto the wound, even though he didn't feel like it did anything since blood kept seeping out. Derek nodded and walked over to pick you up so that Jordan could keep his hands on the injury. "Stiles, you wait for your father to come and explain the situation. Scott-" "I'm on it," Scott interrupted him nodded for Malia, Isaac, Liam, the twins and Theo to follow him. They had to find whoever did that.

Part 2

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Cursed 2 (McCall!Pack x reader)(OS)

Warning: Still kinda Angsty, Suicide(?), like One (1) curse or something Word count: ~3058 Summary: With your destiny and with that the life of your friends on the edge of a metaphorical knife, you find yourself with the help of a familiar stranger...in more than just one sense. 

A/N: This whole thing took me literal ages and I’m really sorry to both Anons who requested it weeks ago, I hope the fact that I made it extra long makes at least kinda up for it. Lot’s of Love, Brina. 

Darkness. Darkness surrounded you. There was no smell, no noise, not even a stream of air that touched your skin.  It was strange, but in a way, it was also peaceful. No Stress, no pressure, no problems. It felt so perfect like a dream come true. But something was wrong, there was a little voice in the back of your mind that told you that the real-life shouldn't be that perfect, that your normal life had countless problems and flaws. But another voice told you that it was better that way. Why would you want the Real-life when you could have this perfect, peaceful void? The answer was simple: No matter how shitty your life could get, it was still your life. It was surrounded by the people you loved. Your pack... You had to get back to them. 

But it was so peaceful...Scott and the others surely wouldn't mind you staying here for a little longer. Why would they? They always wanted the best for you. Just like that one time when you found out about the family curse. Wait. The curse... Something important was related to the curse, you just couldn't figure out what. Maybe you didn't need to. If it was something dangerous, your pack would handle it, like they always did. They wouldn't need you for...uhm...whatever the problem was. You knew that you should know it, but it was like someone asked you about the plot of a movie you've watched on a Saturday morning when you were ten. Just slightly out of your reach. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on finding the missing information in your memories and you were so close. There was something about a cliff and there was a group of people. Who were these people? Why did you feel like you should know who they were? The screaming voice in your head from before was getting more and more drawn out. Why was that bad again? Why was that voice even screaming? You couldn't tell anymore. But you had too, right? You had to remember. Something inside you told you that you couldn't ignore that feeling, making it clear to you that you couldn't let it go. But then you opened your eyes again and found yourself in a loft. You could tell that you had been there before. Often before. And you knew that it was somehow related to that thing you should be thinking about, but you had no idea how. Everything in your mind was getting blurry, you felt like you forgot something more every second you were there, but you weren't sure what you were forgetting. Maybe you didn't even need to. Your father always said: "If you forgot about it, then it wasn't important." Right. It was most likely not Important. You were just making an elephant out of a fly. With a sigh, you shook your head and sank onto the floor. Where were you again? You looked around and found yourself on the floor of a School floor. Locker decorated the walls and there were doors now and then, most likely leading to classrooms. It was familiar in a sense that coffee smells familiar, you know it because almost everyone does and it still has something about it that makes you think it's individual. A yawn escaped your lips and you slipped back to the wall, leaning against it and closing your eyes. You were so tired. A little bit of sleep would probably help you a lot.

You were almost asleep when the sound of a door getting crashed open woke you up. At the other end of the floor stood a young man, who looked around searchingly. When his eyes landed on your sitting figure, he immediately stalked over to you, causing you to slide the wall further back. The man seemed surprised by your action and stoped about sixteen feet away from you. "Y/N?" he asked, the word sounding weird, rolling off his tongue. You were able to recognize that it was a name, but you couldn't, for the love of God, find a face or even anything resembling a person connected to the name. "I'm sorry?" you asked, supporting your body with the wall, while you stood up, eying the door in hope that you could escape in case this man got a little to close for comfort. He moved a few steps backwards with his hands raised. "What are you doing here Y/N?" the man asked directed at you but used the unknown name again. "W-what do you mean? Why are you calling me by that name?" "Calling you by what name?" the man seemed even more confused than before as if you asked something ridiculous. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, slightly offended by the feeling of not knowing something obvious. "Y/N. Why are you calling me Y/N?" you huffed, rolling your eyes a little bit annoyed. The man looked around as if that was all a huge prank and a camera team would come out at any second. "Because it's...uhm..your name," he said, emphasizing 'name' with his voice and his hands, making a sweeping gesture with them. "No!" you barked, but took a deep breath to calm down, "It's not. Y/N is not my name. I should know."   Now a cocky smile formed on the man's lips and he mirrored your pose. Arms in front of his chest and eyebrows raised. "Oh...really? Then what is your name?" "My name is-" you started strongly, but when the moment came to tell him, your voice broke up and you had to stop. You ran your hand through your hair as you searched through your mind for the word that was missing from the sentence.  "My name is-" you repeated, but had to stop at the same place as before. It was not there. The fact that you couldn't remember your name made all sorts of confusion bubble up in your mind, causing tears to well up in your eyes as you looked at the foreign man in agony. "Why can't I remember my name?" you breathed out and buried your hands in your hair. "It's not your fault," the man said and you felt a hand on your shoulder. You hadn't even noticed that he came towards you. You looked at him, his brown eyes automatically drawing yours in. There was something in them that made you unable to look away. Something so darn familiar. It was at that moment that you took your first real look at the man in front of him. He was a few inches taller than you, but you could imagine that in comparison to other boys his age, he was pretty average in terms of size. His brown hair was ruffled like he didn't care about it, but not like he was a super messy person who didn't care about his appearance. All in all, he was objectively told handsome. You were ripped out of your thought about him when he laid both of his hands onto your shoulders. "It's not your fault," he said again and continued, "But it's really important that you remember. It's your only way out." "Out of where?" you questioned, feeling more confused by the second. The boy took his hands away from your shoulders and turned around gesturing at the room around him. "All this," he shouted, facing you again, "Nothing here is real. This is all just in your mind and the only way out is if you make yourself one. and for that, you have to remember." Your eyes widened, but for some reason, you believed him. It was like things like this were routine for you. "Then- Then how did you get in here? If this is all in my mind then how did you get in here?" The smile that took a place on his lips now was an almost sorry one. "I didn't. Just like everything else here but you, I'm just in your mind. A familiar face that your subconscious mind thinks will help you find a way out of this, I'm you trying to help yourself." "That's...That's a bit too much for me," you mumbled, walking over to the wall in hope of getting some security from the feeling of nausea that overcame you. "I know it's weird and really hard to believe, but we don't have time for that," the man- or rather the illusion- told you, making you look up at him. "What? Why?" "That's the point," he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, "You have to remember. I could tell you why, but that wouldn't change anything. You'd just forget it again. You. Have. To. Remember," he said, emphasizing every word. You closed your eyes and tried to do as he said. You tried to find the memories you lacked. Starting with the name of the man or even your own. But only blanks. So many blanks. "I-I can't," you whimpered, sinking to the floor again. For a few seconds, everything was quiet, only your sobs shaking the air, but after a few moments, his voice broke the almost silence. "Please. I know it's hard, but it's not only your life that is on the line. No. Also the ones of your friends, your family, your..." he broke up before you knew what he wanted to say, but somehow a metaphoric lightbulb enlightened above your head. "My Pack!" you squealed and jumped up again. "Right? My Pack. With...uhm...Something like Todd. And-And you," you excitedly pointed at your mind's manifestation. "You're...your name is...uhm. Gimme a second, it's at the tip of my tongue," you snapped a few times with your fingers before it came crashing into you like a wave. "STILES! You're Stiles! And I'm Y/N. We're in the same pack with our Alpha Scott and Liam and Derek and Lydia and Malia." You clapped into your hands like a kid that just answered a question in their math class correctly, even though they didn't listen to the teacher. But you had hardly processed the new memories when even more came crushing into you. The curse, the cliff, your pack trying to change your mind and then everything going black. "Oh no," you mumbled when you realized that, if you were trapped in your mind, then what was happening to your body right now? "So you remembered?" your mind-Stiles asked. "Yes. The curse. Did I...Did I kill them?" you asked worriedly. "No," he answered, making you sigh out in relieve, until his next words making you inhale sharply again, "Not yet. But the curse is inflicting your mind and body more by the second. You have to win this battle, otherwise, there's no way our friends will survive." "How can I defeat the curse? What do I have to do?" you asked with determination in your voice, looking at the doors that, if this is the Beacon Hills High you attended would lead to the outside. If you had a chance to save your friends you'd take it.   "You'll have to repeat what you already tried. You have to-" he stopped mid-sentence. "I have to what?" you asked while turning around to see him, only to find that he was nowhere to be seen. "Stiles?" you shouted in confusion. "Where are you?" Instead of an answer, you looked up to see that the roof had disappeared and a look to your left and right showed you that the walls were slowly melting down into the floor and the whole area turned into the place you'd seen last. The cliff. You were looking around you in confusion when there was an all too familiar voice behind you. "It's beautiful. I understand why you wanted to end it here." You drove around, wanting to see the person behind that voice that sounded so much like the one you heard every time you opened your mouth. You found yourself face to face with yourself. The other you looked like you were looking into a mirror, but you knew that she wasn't you. Her eyes were darker, her whole demeanour seemed...meaner and the smirk on her lips felt wrong. Not to mention that she had blood all over her hands and clothes. "Who are you?" you asked, trying to sound hard. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked while walking to your side, her gaze never leaving the nightlights of Beacon Hills. "You're me..." you said, somewhat between a question and a statement, and continued: "But you're somehow not me at all." She chuckled and glanced into your direction. "You're such a clever girl. It had been a while since I met one of you, but it seemed like the family genes got better." "One of us? Who is us?" you asked, already fearing the answer. "Of you Y/L/N-girls. It's a shame that the generations before you were able to overthrow me like that. It was getting boring," she said as if it was the most normal thing while picking at her nails. "You're what will happen to me if the curse wins," you mumbled, looking at her in fright. She's a monster who looks like you. "Oh, yeah. That's me. But I don't think that we have much of a competition. You know, you have nothing on me. There's no way for you could win this little battle. I'm a million-year-old creature who has killed more people than both world wars combined and you're...a little school girl. Not much of a fight if you ask me, hun."   All her words were meant to hurt and bring you down...and it worked. If you ever had even the slightest chance of winning this mind-match then it was gone by now. And curse-you knew it. She knew she won. And that was why she wasn't careful enough to not make any mistakes. "I think you should see what will happen now," she hummed and snapped her fingers. You were still at the cliff so you weren't sure what had happened or what had changed. At least until Curse-you nodded her head towards whatever was behind you. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but you surely weren't expecting to turn around and see all your friends and the people you considered your family scattered around the floor in various stages of lacerated, blood making the ground under them muddy and red. Dead, they were all dead. A gasp left you and Curse-you chuckled again, thinking that she had already won. "You...You-" you started, stuttering slightly. "Yes. I did that. Or rather I will do that, really, really soon," she said, a sickly proud undertone in her voice. "You just made a great mistake," you whispered, making her raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "Either if you did it or if you just thread to do it, but you should know that if you say you'll hurt my friends- my pack- in my presence, I'll do everything in my power to destroy you. Even if it means I have to lose my own life. If it was for me, none of this would have happened, I wanted to end this before it even started. And I would repeat it every-" it fell like scales from your eyes when you found the connection between the thing Stiles-you had said just minutes ago. "Every what?" Curse-you asked with a tone in her voice that would make every fifth-grade bully proud. This alone made you overthink what you were about to do. Originally you just wanted to jump off of the cliff, but it couldn't hurt to take that little bitch with you. And so you ran to her in record time, pushing her down the cliff with all the force you had in your body since you didn't try to stay on the ground. The last thing you knew was the ground coming closer steadily and curse-you screaming and trying to scratch your eyes out.

It had been four hours since Scott and the others had brought your unconscious body to Deaton's and chained you up like some kind of monster. They had no idea what to do or how this would turn out. But they knew they'd get threw this together, like always. Derek had arrived about three hours after the others and was now talking quietly with Stiles and Scott in the corner. Malia and Lydia were sitting by your bed and Liam and Mason were sitting in the corner, both somewhat asleep. The only one who left now and then was Deaton, who was looking threw some books in Hope of finding a solution to their obvious problem. It was Lydia who broke the silence with a surprised, short scream. Everyone immediately gathered around the table you were laying on, only to see you twitch spastically. "Let me through," Deaton said, pushing Liam and Stiles out of his way. He quickly examined you, when you suddenly stopped twitching. Everyone looked at Deaton in question. "Y/N's...I'm sorry. She had a heart attack, she's dead." Gasps filled the room and the first one who was able to say something was a desperate Scott. "Wait. No. I'll bite her," he said, already getting his fangs out, but Deaton held him back. "I'm sorry Scott. It's too late. Not even your Bite can bring her back from the dead." The situation dawned upon your pack and not even Dereck was able to hold the tears back that welled up in his eyes. They couldn't stand looking at you, all of them somehow feeling responsible for what happened. "W-What h-happened?" All off them turned around to see you looking at them through tired eyes. "How-How is this possible?" Lydia asked, but immediately getting over to you to take the restrainings off of you, not caring about the curse. As soon as you were rid of the chains, you had more people hugging you then you could process. "I'm not sure," Deaton said, "But I guess it had something to do with the curse. People don't just die and come back without any revival." "I died?" you asked shocked. "Yeah," answered multiple of your friends, a few of them still hugging you close. Some day you'd think about this and try to figure out what happened, but right now, you'd enjoy the fact that you were neither dead, not taken over by a curse. 

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Cursed (McCall!Pack x reader)(Drabble/Os)

Warning: Angst, attempted suicide, cursing Word counts: ~1068 Summary: Being cursed to kill you decide that there’s only one way out…

You heard the buzzing of your phone in your jeans pocket, but knowing who it was and why they called, you ignored it and continued on your way. Never looking back. Never getting slower. Finding out that your family was cursed was shitty, but finding out that you were the next victim of the said curse was ball-sucking-hellish-kinda-shitty. Especially if the curse meant you’d turn into a deadly, soul-wrenching Monster and kill all your friends…or rather everyone in Beacon Hills. The Generations before you had a way to avoid the curse, but your mother had died shortly after your birth, all other relatives from her side were untraceable or dead and your father moved away from your hometown. In fact, you would have never known about the curse if it hasn’t been for Deaton discovering it soon enough and having at least some information about what kind of curse it could be. Only that he’d found out rather late, leaving you with no time to even say goodbye to your Dad or your friends. You thought that it was maybe better that way. You wouldn’t have to look them in the eyes, tell them that the only way out of your misery was quite frankly the ‘way-out-of-the-misery’. They wouldn’t try to convince you that you’d be able to find another way out. To find a solution. To find a way where nobody had to die. At least you hoped that they wouldn’t, but it seemed like someone Deaton had told them about your situation and they wanted to help you. Only that they couldn’t. Nobody could. You were the only one who could help anyone in this situation. You could help everyone else with not killing them. Your phone finally stopped buzzing and you sighed in relive, thinking they finally accepted that they couldn’t do anything about your situation and would let you go in peace. You should have known better.

The cold night air was blowing through your hair and over your skin, which was littered with goosebumps. It was like in a movie. Just that this wouldn’t have a happy end. When you were younger you loved to hike on the mountains near Beacon Hills (we just imagine there are some of them) and stand on top of them, watching the incredible view from the cliff. You couldn’t imagine a better ending. You would die with an incredible view. At least something. You took a deep breath and stepped a small step forward, leaving only millimetres between the tips of your toes in your ballerinas (a really bad choice in shoes for the last hiking, but you wouldn’t have to bear the pain later so who cares) and the edge of the cliff. “You can do that Y/N. For all your friends. For your Dad. For Beacon Hills,” you whispered to yourself, completely aware that you were wasting your time, trying to make the last moment as long as possible. At least until you heard steps behind you. At least six if not more. You didn’t bother to turn around, keeping your gaze fixed on the city lights in front of you. “Tell them to go away Scott. We both know there’s no other way out of this,” you shouted, specifically to Scott since you knew as the Alpha everyone would listen to him. The voice that answered you wasn’t Scott’s but Stiles. “Don’t say that. There always is another way. Even in situations like this.” A dry, humourless chuckle escaped your throat and you finally glanced over your shoulder, seeing your whole pack standing there. “Maybe, but to find them we’d need time. I’d need time. But we don’t have that. The curse sets in when the host gets 17 and guess what. My Birthday is in,” you looked down at your watch, “exactly twenty minutes.” You saw how all of them flinched. They knew this. Deep inside they knew they had no other way, but they wouldn’t just accept it. Of course, if you’d be the one watching one of your closest friends seconds away from death you wouldn’t just accept it either. This time Liam stepped for. “I know, I haven’t been in this Supernatural stuff for long, but…this just isn’t fair. You’re the most generous and nicest person I’ve ever known. You became somewhat of my anchor. When I’m about to lose it I think of what you would tell me to do and it calms me down. Why do you need to go through this? You’ll die and you don’t deserve that.” You felt tears well up in your eyes but decided to stand your ground. “Do you deserve it?” you asked rather aggressively. “Does all of Beacon hills deserve it?” You turned around again to look at the city before you. “You’re right, but still…It’s me for you. Like you said, If I go through with this, I die. If I don’t go through with this, all off you die,” you looked at your hands, already seeing them drenched in blood. “And I can’t bear the thought of that.” You haven’t even noticed that you were crying, but a few seconds later you felt a pair off arms around you. “It’s okay,” Scott mumbled, keeping you in his arms and stroking your hair softly. “No it’s not…” you responded quietly. For a few seconds, you just stood there, but you knew you had to go through with this. You tried to release yourself from Scott’s arms, but he kept you tight. “Scott?” you asked, already guessing what he was doing. He didn’t budge, so you started to kick and punch, fighting your way out of his grip to no avail. “Please,” you mumbled weakly, knowing that this was your last chance. Scott tightened his grip and your pack looked away in shame as you slowly fell unconscious in his arms. He held you bridal-style and carried you over to the Jeep, no one saying anything. “This was the right thing to do,” Scott said loudly, more trying to convince himself, than he tried to convince the others. They all made agreeing-noises but stayed silent on the whole way back to the animal clinic. Not a single word was said while Deaton fastened you to the metal table with chains, not sure how strong you’d be when you’d wake up. None of them left while you were laying there. None of them could. You meant so much to them. They had no idea what they could get themselves into.