#v. a new code

[argcntangel]

@hastodosomething continued from ⚜️

The sound he makes, lost and afraid, makes her heart ache.

He moves closer into her and Allison wraps her smaller frame around him like a shield. Her fingertips never stop the gentle, rhythmic tracing of aimless shapes, something for him to concentrate on while his heartbeat and mind steady. A soft assenting murmur is her answer, cheek resting against his.

The numbers of his nightstand clock read 3:04, but she knows she won’t sleep until she feels him relax again. She’d sit awake with Scott all night if it meant soothing him, her own tiredness set aside until he could sleep without fear. “You’re safe, I promise.”

[argcntangel]

Open - to Malia

They’re all still getting used to each other. To their lives now. If you asked someone on the outside, someone who didn’t know about trauma and change brought on by the supernatural, they would probably say nothing was wrong.

But when one of your best friends gets possessed, the other gets kidnapped, the new girl’s mom is trying to kill the creature your friend has become (why does that sound so familiar?), and the other new girl used to be a coyote…well, none of that could exactly be labeled as ‘fine’.

Then there was the part about her being stabbed and almost dying.

By the time she’s released from the hospital after months of surgery and infuriating resting, Scott and Stiles have found Malia.

She knows almost nothing about this girl, but she helped save Malia’s life, the least she can do is be friendly now that they’re both here. From her spot on the couch, propped up by cushions, Allison tries to offer a smile. “Scott told me he’s trying to help you shift. You know it took him months to get right?”

[argcntangel]

“Yeah, I’m good. Just give me a second--”

Do not fall apart right now, Allison, don’t you dare. They need you.

[argcntangel]

[argcntangel]

⚜️  @bansheeintuition  ⚜️

She’s learned to trust her instincts without question, both in battle and in the eye of the storm. She’s also learned, long before the first, to trust Lydia’s.

Lydia, who doesn’t space out in class without a good reason. Who doesn’t ever look so preoccupied and confused, waiting by a locker that isn’t hers. (That isn’t anyone’s--no one’s ever been assigned to it, for some reason.) She exchanges looks with Scott and Malia during a class on the third day, a silent agreement made.

Allison catches her in the hall during their next free period, concern etched in the way her brows furrow at her best friend. “You know whatever it is, you can tell me, right?”

[argcntangel]