#fightbehavior

the ot3 is fucking back you bea-youuuu-tiful wintermelons embrace the g ay  !!!

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Erica was glad that she had some time without any of the drama that came with being a werewolf. Derek had convinced her that becoming a werewolf would make all of her problems go away, that the danger was nothing compared to the gain. She had to admit, he was partly right. She enjoyed the way that people looked at her now, especially Stiles, but it didn’t change how she felt on the inside. It was all just a band-aid and she couldn’t get out of her situation anymore. Luckily, there were people that made it all feel worthwhile. Isaac and Boyd were her best friends now and even having friends at all was such a weird concept to her but with them it felt right.

When she spotted Isaac huddled up on the couch attempting to do homework, she didn’t hesitate to flop on the couch beside him, her head landing on his shoulder as she curled towards him. She decided to make a little bit of small talk before actually talking about what was plaguing her mind. “It feels like Derek is just using us, like the only reason we’re all here is because we were vulnerable and he could manipulate us.” She didn’t want to believe it, but Derek’s actions had done nothing to change her mind.

A small smile appeared on Erica’s lips as Isaac squeezed her hand and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Of course I’m staying. You and Boyd are the only things that make my life worth anything. I wouldn’t leave you. But I could leave Derek in a heartbeat. All he does is hurt us.”

Stay away, Allison. 

Her father had told her those words over and over again. Lydia had come clean about sensing her best friend’s death and Chris had done something he never thought possible. The bite had been planned, a way to protect her from whatever came her way. She wouldn’t be a vulnerable human. She would be strong, what she always wanted. But she wasn’t happy. She cried that night and the night after. The following night Isaac’s company kept her from weeping at her own fate. 

The calaveras made it clear, one bite to an innocent and they would come. So she had to go. And do she did. She was gone, in more ways than one. Dead to many. 

He’s in Paris. 

Her father texted her just a few days after she left. He gave her an address and before she knew it, she was running under the rain, heart thumping and legs moving as fast as they could with little focus on their surroundings. She reached the building and knocked on the door repeatedly until someone opened, until HE opened.

    ❛ Please...let me explain. ❜

And that’s when her eyes shifted color to a bright amber she had grown used to due to all those months were she had attempted to control it. Even now, sometimes, they changed on their own accord. She was too easy to rile up, had too many emotions crawling only skin deep. But, how couldn’t she? How couldn’t she when all she had for anchor was the memory of big blue eyes staring at her as if she was the brightest star in the sky, when all she had were images of their first and only night together, a night in which he had touched her and kissed her softly as if she would break and for the first time she didn’t care someone deemed her breakable. 

Only now, as she could feel his scent taking over her senses did Allison felt in full control, enough control to show him the slow shift of her eye color and the sharpness and length of her nails.

    ❛ I couldn’t come back without putting everyone in danger, without putting you in danger. ❜

                      maybe it was just an excuse to see the cute guy who lived upstairs from her,  the one she’d made eye contact with out on the balcony earlier.       here she was,  white candle in her hand and barely clothed - only in a bralette and cardigan matched with a short skirt and over the knee fishnets.       three swift knocks on the steel door,  a quick fluff of her hair before he answered.

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