Just imagine a Warden who listens carefully to Zevran tell them how the Crows bought him when he was only a child and trained him to kill.
Imagine a Warden coming across Zevran in the Sloth demon’s dream, strapped to the rack, forced not to make a sound, and feels their stomach flip over.
Imagine a Warden who’s so incredibly upset by what they saw and Zevran just doesn’t understand why considering it was only one more detail to his story with the Crows. And then the Warden explains. If that was part of his training to be a Crow, and the Crows bought him when he was 7, how old was he when he was first put on the rack?
Imagine Zevran stunned, managing to say something along the lines of the Warden being too smart for their own good, as he tries to grapple with the fact they not only remembered what he had told them, but they cared enough to be that upset about what had been done to him.
It’s easy for other people to say that “you deserve better” or “he wasn’t worth it” but until they’re in that position themselves, they would never understand, the fact that you would still do anything for him to come back.
You waited until the locker room was empty for all but one last player. Your target. Ok. This is it. After this, there’s no going back. Lydia is so going to kill you when she finds out. Ok. Here I go.
You pressed your sweaty palms against the door and pushed, wincing when the door decided to creak loud enough to alert the entire school. You grimaced as you entered, letting go of the door and accidentally letting it slam. This is so not going well.
You heard the water from a shower turn off and someone fumbling around with something. Hopefully, your someone.
“Scott?” You called out, cautiously making you way to the showers. You heard a squeak and then something heavy hit the ground.
“Ow!” You heard him say, and rushed forward against your better judgement.
“Scott are you…” You trailed off when you saw him, your eyes widening and your heart beat going bananas. He was getting up from the slippery floor with nothing but a small towel covering his- well, you know. You knew he was strong and stuff, being a werewolf and all, but you didn’t know that he looked damn good without a shirt on. All wet and shiny and- What am I doing? Focus
You tore your eyes away from his chest and arms and… Everything else… and found his eyes. His face was red and his eyes were as wide as yours were. You just stared at each other for a long moment before you realized that you should probably turn around so that you both could get out of this awkward situation. You waited until you heard the zipper of his jeans before turning back around to face him. He was still shirtless- not that I was complaining.
“Ok, so, um, so I need your help with something.” You was sure that your face was the color of the Communist Manifesto at this point.
“Um, yah ok, what is it?” He cleared his throat, then rummaged through his bag, looking for his shirt. For a moment, you kinda wished that he wouldn’t find it. Snap out of it
“It’s about Stiles… I was thinking that maybe, since you two are practically brothers, that you could tell him about-” His face fell and he finally pulled out his shirt from his bag.
“Yah! Sure. I’ll tell him about-” He slipped his tee over his head, “about you. He’s…“ You started laughing, and he stopped.
“Wait. About me?” You laughed, “I definitely do not like Stiles that way. I was talking about Lydia. She’s interested in him ya know.” You leaned against the tiled locker room wall casually, folding your arms over your chest. “And I think that we should get them together.” You watched him watch you, and payed special attention to his hair as he dried it. It made him look nice since he cut it. Older. Mature- even though you knew that he was a huge cheeseball half of the time.
“How do you even know this?” You sighed and roll your eyes at him.
“Scott. I’m Lydia’s big sister. I’m aware of these things. The point is, they need to get together and we need to make that happen. So… are you in or are you out?” He smirked at you and walked over. Wow. You never noticed how tall he was.
“I’ll help you, on one condition. First…”
You tried to take a step back, only to run into the wall you were leaning against. He towered over you- and you would be lying if you said that you hated it.
“You have to go on a date with me.” You tried and failed to stop a smile. Looking away from his close face, which was grinning wildly, you tried but failed to hide it. He planted his hand on the wall next to your face.
“You know, I can hear your heartbeat. There’s no point in trying to hide anything…” His face was so close. So freakin close to yours.
You quickly slipped away from him, because you know what happens when two hormonal teenagers are this close in an empty locker room. You walked backwards towards the door, chewing on your lip.
i see a lot of people who get angry whenever anyone calls derek hale a hero because “scott is the hero” and???? there can be more than one hero? and people can be heroes in different ways?
i think derek is a hero because, despite everything, he kept going. if the shit that had happened to him had happened to me, i can guarantee i wouldn’t be okay. derek hale is a survivor, and that is so fucking important to me.
there is no explanation for why it didn't go like this
the way it happened, there's a point where it isn't self defense anymore!!!
wait hold the fuck up what do you think happened
you hit him repeatedly with a wrench
you know i ain't supernatural right i ain't have super strength there is no way i could have killed that fucking vampire shit with brute force okay i was literally up on a ladder and some shit pierced him