Fur and Fangs · Y/n story by @katreenuh

The first bell of the semester at Beacon Hills High rang with a sound like a guillotine dropping. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the main hallway, cutting across the polished linoleum in sharp, golden bars. It was a Monday morning in early September, and the air was thick with the scent of new textbooks, cheap cologne, and the electric buzz of renewed social warfare.

Erica Jones

adjusting the strap of her designer bag Remind me again why we voluntarily subject ourselves to this five days a week?

Sarah Fox

Because the cafeteria serves Type O negative on Tuesdays. she grins, fangs discreetly hidden It’s the little things.

Rory Keaner

Also, because skipping would be suspicious. And we’re all about not being suspicious. he nods toward the far end of the hall Speaking of which, incoming.

A ripple moved through the crowded corridor as Y/n made her way down the hall. It wasn't a dramatic part, but a subtle, gravitational shift. Conversations dipped, glances slid her way, and a path seemed to clear itself before her without anyone consciously moving. She was the fixed point around which the high school solar system revolved.

Erica Jones

sighs, a mix of pride and exasperation The queen takes her throne.

Before Y/n could reach her usual locker, a different kind of disturbance cut through the morning noise. From the direction of the lacrosse field doors, Scott McCall stumbled into the hall. He looked dazed, his eyes wide and unfocused, his movements uncoordinated. He bumped into a trash can, sending it clattering, and flinched at the sound as if it were a gunshot.

Sarah Fox

Whoa. Someone had a rough weekend.

Rory Keaner

More than rough. his voice drops, a vampire’s keen senses picking up details His heart’s racing like a hummingbird’s. And his scent… it’s different. Metallic. Wild.

A second later, Stiles Stilinski burst through the same doors, a whirlwind of frantic energy and loud whispers.

Stiles Stilinski

Dude! Scott! What is with you? You’re sweating like you just ran a marathon in a sauna suit. And your eyes are doing this weird… gold-flashy thing. Did you take something? Please tell me you didn’t take something from my dad’s evidence locker again.

Scott McCall

I didn’t… I don’t know what’s happening. Everything’s so loud. And I can… smell everything. he looks genuinely terrified

Stiles followed Scott’s panicked gaze, which had landed squarely on Lydia Martin, who was laughing with Allison Argent by her locker. Scott froze, his expression shifting from fear to something like awe.

Stiles Stilinski

Oh. Oh. That’s what’s happening. You’re having a… a Lydia Martin-induced medical episode. Common ailment. We should get you to the nurse.

Erica Jones

murmurs to Y/n, a smirk playing on her lips Well. That’s new. And not entirely… human.