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imagine-loki · 5 years

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Do You Fear the Devil?

TITLE: Do You Fear the Devil?

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2, A Temporary Truce

AUTHOR: unofferable-fic

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Victorian London AU. Imagine that you are one of the many working women roaming the streets of Whitechapel when a madman begins to murder your comrades one by one.

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Descriptions of injuries/violence, gore, language, angst. Playlist: “The Medic” — Foxing, “Little Sadie” — Crooked Still, “The Last of Us (Cycles)” — Gustavo Santaolalla

31st August 1888, 5.30 am.

“I apologise for having to pull you out bed for the second time this morning, Dr Banner.”

Loki would be the first to admit that his relationship with fellow doctor Bruce Banner was somewhat strained. Upon their first meeting some years ago, they both got into a drunken bar fight, one which resulted in each of them sporting black eyes and split lips going into work the following morning. They were, unsurprisingly, suspended temporarily. He could barely remember what the argument had been about — possibly in relation to Dr Banner’s consorting with prostitutes — but he definitely recalled his comrade being a very angry drunk when provoked. All that being said, the pair had come to have a mutual respect for each other given their similar professions.

“It’s alright,” Dr Banner reassured him as they met him in the front yard to the mortuary. “I know you would not call me if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I can assure you that it is,” Sgt Rogers added, his lips set in a grim line. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Well, take me to her then.”

Just as the trio turned to enter the building, a man opened the door and lazily threw a bundle of bloody clothes into the yard. Loki quickly gathered that he was a pauper given his appearance, but his eyes immediately fell to the clothing of which he had disposed. He recognised it immediately.

“Where did you get those?” he barked, halting the employee before he could return inside.

“Off the body in there,” the man replied with a raised brow. “We’re washing ‘er down to prepare ‘er for burial.”

“She was not to be touched!”

Sgt Rogers looked to be losing his patience. “We were told that the body would not be disturbed until Dr Banner here had conducted a full and detailed post-mortem examination!”

Loki growled in frustration and addressed the man again. “Do not lay another finger on her before we complete the examination, otherwise more evidence will be tampered with.”

Dr Laufeyson grabbed the clothes from the ground and barged past him in irritation, followed closely by Dr Banner and Sgt Rogers. The trio quickly entered the mortuary and dismissed the other senile workhouse parlour who had just about finished washing the body down. The sergeant made a show of getting their names — Robert Mann and James Hatfield, which Loki would later read in his case notes — and dismissed them. While Dr Banner attended to the body, Loki took an inventory of clothing Polly had worn during her demise, as well as the possessions on her person. Despite being washed, the blood had done its work, leaving irreversible stains in its wake. On her petticoats, he noticed a marking beneath the blood. He quickly recognised the marking as that of Lambeth Workhouse.

He called Steve over and pointed to the emblem. “You should reach out to the women in the workhouse, Sergeant. Someone may be able to help identify her.”

“I will have Wilson look into it,” Sgt Rogers replied. “Once he has dealt with the lead given to us by those other women.”

Loki thought back to the street-walkers he spotted on the scene, pointed out by PCs Wilson and Barnes. When they reentered his mind, he couldn’t help the intrigue that built up within him. “Were those women questioned any further, Sergeant?”

“Not beyond the identification of the victim.”

“They might be worth a conversation,” he explained. “They were clearly on the job that night given the men in their company. If the killer committed the other attacks and is indeed targeting prostitutes, then they might have seen or heard something suspicious.”

Steve’s blue eyes pierced into his, a frown forming on his lips. “You’re right, Doctor, but we never thought to ask their names.”

“They appeared to be well looked after, so my best guess is that they reside in a decent lodging house or brothel.”

“They work at the White Swan,” Banner stated without looking up from the body. Steve and Loki turned to look at him in surprise. It was only when he was met with silence that he looked up nervously. “I, uh, know one of the midwives employed with taking care of the brothel’s workers… I recognised them from visiting her.”

“Right,” Dr Laufeyson drawled, easily sensing the lie. “You were always a terrible liar, Bruce.”

Dr Banner broke out into a series of unintelligible mumbles before giving up and turning his attention back to the examination. Loki simply rolled his eyes as Sgt Rogers spoke up. “I think you and I should pay a visit to the White Swan tomorrow afternoon.”

“I didn’t take you for that kind of man,” Loki said wryly, and delighted in his superior’s ears turning red. “You can hardly pay a woman while on the job, no?”

“To interview them,” Steve hastily added, looking unamused with the suggestion that he might consort with prostitutes. “While Bucky and Sam work on the other leads and Dr Banner finishes up here. I’m afraid we’ll need you back here again before seven, Doctor. Inspector Stark should arrive thereabouts and will need to be filled in.”

“I will see that it’s done, Steve.”

“Thank you.” The blonde turned to Loki and nodded to the door. “Shall we?”

“You are the man in charge. Lead the way.”

Leaving the good doctor to his work, the men left the mortuary and briefly met with PCs Barnes and Wilson who had finished interviewing the neighbours. Oddly enough, no one had heard a single thing.

“Neither did the Night Watchman,” PC Barnes elaborated with a shrug. “But he’s a known dozer…”

The lack of any leads did little to improve the mood of Steve or Loki, but they hoped that the Thrawl Street and Lambeth leads would offer them more information in the morning. At the beginning of September, after they acquired some much needed information through their investigation, they turned their attention to the White Swan and two particular employees.

***

LONDON DAILY NEWS

Saturday, 1st September, 1888

BRUTAL MURDER IN WHITECHAPEL

“A murder of the most brutal kind was committed in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel in the early hours of yesterday morning, but by whom and with what motive is at present a complete mystery.

At a quarter to four o'clock Police sergeant Rogers, 97J when in Buck’s-row, Whitechapel, came upon the body of a woman lying on a part of the footway, and on stooping to raise her up, in the belief that she was intoxicated, he discovered that her throat was cut almost from ear to ear.

Assistance was procured, a messenger being sent at once to the station and for a doctor.

Dr. Banner, of Whitechapel-road, whose surgery is not more than 300 yards from the spot where the woman lay, was aroused, and proceeded at once to the scene.

He hastily inspected the body where it lay and pronounced the woman dead.

The police ambulance from the Bethnal-green station having arrived, the body was removed there.

A further examination showed the horrible nature of the crime, for the lower part of the woman’s body was found to have been horribly mutilated by three or four deep gashes. Any one of the wounds was sufficient to came death.

After the body was removed to the mortuary of the parish in Old Montague-street, Whitechapel, steps were taken to secure, if possible, identification, but at first with little prospect of success.

The clothing on the body was of a common description. It was discovered that the skirt of one petticoat and the band of another article bore the stencil stamp of Lambeth Workhouse. The only articles in the pockets were a comb and a piece of looking glass. The latter led the police to conclude that the murdered woman was an inhabitant of one of the numerous lodging-homes in the neighbourhood.

As the news of the murder spread first one woman and then another come forward to view the body, and at length it was found that a woman answering the description of the deceased had lodged in a common lodging houses in Thrawl-street, Spitalfields.

Women from that place were fetched, and they identified the deceased as “Polly” who had shared a room with three other women in the place on the usual terms of such houses - nightly payment of 4d. each, each woman having a separate bed.

She had frequented the house for about three weeks past. When she presented herself for her lodging on Thursday night she was turned away because she had not the money.

She was then the worse for liquor.

A woman of the neighbourhood saw her later, she told the police - even as late as 2.30 on Friday morning - in Whitechapel-road, opposite the Church, and at the corner of Osborn-street, and at a quarter to four she was found within 600 yards of the spot murdered.

At about half-past seven last evening a woman named Mary Anne Monk, at present an inmate of Lambeth Workhouse, was taken to the mortuary, and identified the body as that of Mary Ann Nicholls.

She was a married woman, but had been living apart from her husband for some years. Her age was 36, and she had been an inmate of Lambeth Workhouse off and on for the past seven years.

The matter is being investigated by Inspector Stark of Scotland-yard.”

With a sigh, you set the newspaper back down on the table. You briefly thanked your valuable ability to read as it meant that you could stay informed about the gruesome murder while keeping your fellow illiterate workers aware as well.

Despite how the evening of the 31st of August had began, it ended relatively well for you and Natasha. James and Scott were kind enough to walk you both back to the brothel, paying you for your time despite the events of the night having somewhat killed the mood. Even still, they insisted that they were unwilling to leave neither you or Natasha short for money. Now, you were sitting in a lounge area of the White Swan, relaying the article to Natasha and Wanda.

Wanda Maximoff was another friend of yours and one of the younger workers in the brothel. Like Natasha, she wasn’t from England and originally resided in a far off country called Sokovia. After severe political unrest and the threat of oncoming war with neighbouring countries, she fled her home a few years ago with her twin brother, Pietro, and soon found herself working in the brothel to make ends meet. Pietro had even acquired a job as the brothel’s bartender, using his time to serve the customers and keep a watchful eye on his sister. They were both little spitfires, and more than happy to tell you to jog on if you disrespected them on the premises. Considering the establishment was one of the more expensive ones, there was a general ‘no cheeky bollocks’ policy, and the twins were more than happy to enforce it. The madame of the brothel, Pepper Potts, loved their fiery attitude, mostly because she agreed with its sentiment, and also because some customers paid good money for a woman with a dominant streak.

“I think I have met her before,” Wanda pondered when you finished reading the article. “She was a nice woman with far more friends than enemies, if she had any at all.”

“What a horrible way to go,” Natasha added with a frown. “Especially when she was only trying to earn a few quid to get a bed for the night.”

“It just makes me feel even more lucky to be living in here,” you said, glancing around the room. “And I’m also glad that we stick together when we go out at night.”

The Sokovian nodded in agreement. “We should definitely keep that up.”

Before you could continue the conversation, the door to the lounge opened, revealing Madame Potts on the other side. “Natasha, Y/N, you have visitors.”

“Customers?” you asked curiously.

“No. They are of the more investigative variety.”

Natasha let out an audible groan. “Don’t tell me it’s the bloomin’ mutton shunters…”

“I’m afraid so. Realistically they should not even be on the premises, but they came in normal clothing to avoid affecting my business. They just wish to speak with you both about the murder of Mary Ann.”

“Swell,” you muttered under your breath as the three of you were lead from the room, following Madame Potts to the bar where the apparent policemen were waiting. When you arrived, Wanda moved to take a seat at the bar while Pietro stood behind it, cleaning glasses ahead of the evening rush of clients. You looked at the table in the corner that was currently housing the policemen and recognised them from Bucks Row.

“Looks like Sergeant Handsome and Doctor Dreamy couldn’t get enough of us,” Natasha said to you under her breath. “I shall take the blonde.”

“No you will not,” you replied with a small snort. She wasn’t exactly wrong about them being quite attractive though. “They’re here to question us, not to do business. Plus, you are telling me that you would sleep with a policeman?”

“Money is money, and I am already fucking the good doctor friend of theirs. He is basically a policeman without the ridiculous helmet.”

You chose not to reply. Instead, you merely looked at her in amusement and delighted in the fact that she could always put a smile on your face.

“Gentlemen,” Madame Potts announced, grabbing their attention as the three women reached the table. “These valuable ladies are Miss Romanoff and Miss Y/L/N, and they said they would be willing to answer some questions for you both. Try anything other than that, or threaten them in anyway, and I will see that you’re removed from the property. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the blonde replied calmly and removed his flat cap. As Madame Potts retreated and left the room, he gestured to the seats opposite them with a polite smile. “Please, sit.”

You and your companion followed his request, all the while eying the pair across from you.

“I’m Sgt Rogers,” the blonde continued before nodding to his friend. “And this is Divisional Police Surgeon Dr Laufeyson. We wanted to ask you both some questions with regards the murder of Mary Ann Nichols.”

As you cautiously studied Dr Laufeyson, Natasha spoke up. “I doubt we’ll have any helpful information. We did not know the women, and we spent most of our night with company in the Frying Pan.”

“On business?”

The redhead smirked playfully. “Obviously.”

“Why venture out of the brothel in the first place?” Dr Laufeyson asked with his hands clasped together on the table. “Is it not a safer option to remain here? Especially with all the attacks of late.”

“Sometimes business is slow,” you explained. “If we want to make money, we might have to go out and entice some men into coming to visit. Other times, we meet with regulars with whom we know we are safe.”

“I did not think such men existed, Miss Y/L/N.”

Your eyes narrowed, unafraid to meet his green ones in a stare that instantly brought you back to the lane where you first saw him. “You do not need to tell me that it’s exceedingly unsafe to be in my line of work. But not all men are monsters, Doctor, and not all men despise prostitutes.”

He watched you carefully, holding your gaze. “It would seem that the man who murdered Mary Ann Nichols certainly did.”

If there was one skill you had gathered from your work, it was learning to read people as best as you could. It was an important aspect of picking your customers — if any men made you feel uneasy, you didn’t go near them. The two men in front of you were relatively easy to figure out. Sgt Rogers held himself with a certain amount of pride. He didn’t strike you as overly confident, but he was certainly settled in a leadership role. He was good at taking charge and equally comfortable doing it. He lacked arrogance and appeared genuinely concerned with the attacks. He probably wouldn’t be here talking to you if he wasn’t. And Natasha had been right — with his chiselled jawline, penetrating baby blues, and neatly combed blonde hair he seemed like a poster boy for a handsome gentleman.

Dr Laufeyson was a little harder to figure out. They were both reserved men, but where Sgt Rogers was determined, the former was quietly arrogant and proud. He regarded himself highly because he believed it to be true, but you had to agree that he was elegant in how he looked and how he carried himself. He was a doctor who was obviously intelligent, and oozed a charisma that his colleague did not. There was a certain… mischief, about him. That was the perfect word to describe the glint in his eyes — mischievous. He was, much like the sergeant, attractive, but possessed a different kind of appeal. His features were sharp, his cheekbones high, and his thick black hair slicked back out of his eyes. He was certainly your type, bar the arrogant facade.

“You think she was targeted specifically?” Natasha asked, bringing you out of your daydreaming.

Sgt Rogers answered. “For her profession, yes, but not her personally. Her estranged husband and friends could confirm that she had no enemies, and the recent rise of attacks of women of your profession leads us to believe that there may be a killer about; a killer who specifically has it in for you lot. We are here to ask you questions, but also to advise you both with regards your safety.”

This grim information did nothing to ease your woes. You had had a bad feeling about all the murders in the last few weeks. Not many people cared about sex workers because of who you were, but you were still human and you could feel fear and pain. You shouldn’t have been surprised that there was someone stalking about trying to murder as many women as he could. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he hadn’t been caught yet, given the lack of people who actually gave a shite, and the lack of manpower within the police. It was obvious that they were in a pickle purely because they came to you for help.

Sgt Rogers removed a fountain pen and a small notebook from his inside coat pocket as he spoke. “Now, we wanted to ask if either of you saw Miss Nichols that night? You said that you visited the Frying Pan Pub — there are witnesses that claimed to see her leaving there at about 12.30 in the morning.”

“We did not get to the pub until after 2.30,” Natasha elaborated with a raised brow. “So we saw no sign of her.”

“Ah, I see. Did you drink heavily there?”

“Just a few gatters, so no.”

“Did you see anyone of note that stuck out to you?” Dr Laufeyson asked, directing his question to you. “Maybe he looked like he did not belong, or gave you a bad gut feeling?”

“There were the usual dippers and rampsmen about,” you said. “Who shouted some colourful words at us, but that is nothing we are not used to. We recognised most people about because we know the streets like the back of our hands.” You paused and thought back to the night, remembering how you had strolled through the stinking lanes with your friend. Only then did you remember a detail. “Well, there was that one man, Natasha. You thought he seemed odd.”

She looked at you curiously. “Who?”

“Remember the lad with the tall hat in the lane? Right before we met James.”

“What lane was this?” the doctor inquired.

“Gunthorpe Street.”

Natasha suddenly recalled your story and nodded in agreement. “Oh! Yes, he did seem a little bit odd… I would not have thought much of him otherwise. We thought he was out looking for women considering he was waiting at the archway.”

“I thought he was the wealthy sort at first,” you added. “But only really thought he was unusual when he approached us. I assumed he would ask us for our services, but he passed by when our friend appeared from ’round the corner and called our names.”

“He just tipped his hat,” Natasha said, mimicking his gesture. “And then went on his way.”

“What did he look like?” Dr Laufeyson pushed while the sergeant was quickly taking down notes. “Any details would be useful.”

You sighed as you recalled the appearance of the man you had met, though you could say little. “Eh… He was ’round 5’6, 5’7? A bit stocky, but had a fair complexion. He also had a moustache. It was dark that night, so I saw little of his appearance.”

“What of his clothes?”

“He had a dark overcoat and a dark top hat on his head.”

“That all sounds about right,” the redhead concurred. “I can agree with that description of him. I do not know why I thought him odd, because his appearance was quite normal. I had not seen him before though, might I add.”

“That is a possible lead at least,” Sgt Rogers said to Dr Laufeyson as he finished taking their statement. He quickly turned back to you. “You have been very helpful, ladies. Both here and on Bucks Row and we appreciate the assistance.”

“Just catch the bloody lurker quick,” your friend implored. “If giving you lot information to catch this devil means we will be safer out there, then we will do what we can to help.”

You noticed the dark-haired man sitting opposite you, thoughtfully tapping his slender fingers on the wooden table top. “That may not be the worst idea.”

“Excuse me?”

“It might not be a bad idea to employ the help of some local prostitutes, Sergeant. After all, they said they know these streets and the civilians well. They may see things that we miss while out soliciting.”

“First of all,” Sgt Rogers began, looking slightly miffed. “Soliciting is still illegal. Secondly, I do not think we are allowed to—”

“If it means catching this madman faster, then where is the harm? That and you had no qualms with coming here to question them in the first place! What do you say, ladies?”

“Assisting you lot with hunting down the man murdering our fellow workers?” Natasha broke out into a full tooth grin. “Sounds like fun. You in, Y/N?”

Working with the London Police? That wasn’t exactly something you foresaw in your future. Then again, you didn’t foresee fearing for your life either, and you refused to lie down and let more of your comrades die. The people of this city didn’t care, but you sure as hell did! “If it means he’s caught sooner rather than later, then yes.”

You and Natasha looked at the exasperated sergeant expectantly as he ran a hand over his face. “Ugh, fine! So be it! But if this gets too dangerous for them, we will dismiss the arrangement. And you will not be out ‘hunting’ him. For now, you will be offering information on suspects, locations, and possible victims, of which we hope there won’t be anymore.”

“We also want to get paid,” you added, clasping your hands together atop the table. “A fair amount.”

“Done,” Dr Laufeyson announced without giving Sgt Rogers a chance. “You ladies have yourselves a deal.”

As you shook the man’s outstretched hand, Sgt Rogers tried to intervene. “Loki—”

“Lighten up, Rogers,” Natasha giggled as she gave the doctor’s hand. “You are no fun, are you?”

“I take my work seriously, Miss Romanoff—”

“And there will be none of that last name or ‘ma’am’ bollocks. We are all on a first name basis now.”

“I believe I heard you refer to each other as Y/N and Natasha?” Dr Laufeyson asked and introduced himself and the sergeant once his question was confirmed. “I am Loki, and this is Steve.”

“Why did I even bring you here?” Steve mumbled, very much done with this exchange.

Loki shrugged in response, feigning innocence. “Because I am the fun one?”

Natasha smirked at the pair and got to her feet. “It was a pleasure doing business with you boys. If you even wish to engage in more pleasurable business, do let us know. We would be happy to oblige.”

The wink she sent Steve had him clearing his throat as the three of you joined her in standing up. Loki was quick to prolong the banter. “I will inform you both if Steve desires some much needed practice.”

“That’s enough!” the sergeant insisted, his jaw tense. “Where can we find you both if we need you?”

“Either here or the Frying Pan,” you answered, trying not to laugh. “We usually stick to one or the other considering we live here.”

“Right.” He coughed and placed his cap on his again. “Thank you again for your assistance, ladies.”

“You too, Stevie,” you chuckled while Natasha sent him a flirty wave. “Have a pleasant afternoon, Loki.”

“I shall try, Y/N. Natasha.” He tipped his hat to you with that familiar glint in his eye and left the establishment with Steve.

Once they were gone, the Russian gave your shoulder a little nudge and scampered off towards the bar. “How about that, Y/N? We just got promoted to Assistant Detectives.”

“I’m quite eager about the pay rise,” you admitted and took a seat at one of the bar stools. “And about, you know, catching that nutcase…”

Wanda and Pietro stared at you both in disbelief, while the former spoke first. “What the hell did I just witness?”

“An adventurous business deal, dear sister,” Pietro explained, his accent thick. He cast a somewhat proud glance at you and nodded thoughtful, setting the clean glass back down on the counter. “Yes. Those two are jumping from the frying pan straight into the fire.”

“I do love a good manhunt,” you joked, all the while looking forward to helping out your peers. That, and you weren’t exactly disappointed with the thought of seeing Loki again. “This should be an eventful experience, girls.”

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #unofferable-fic #do you fear the devil #chapter 2

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acabecca · 7 years

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Shadows and Monsters - flashbacks // Tessa Dunbar - Teen Wolf [5/??]

Having to get up at what felt like the crack of dawn when she hadn’t gone to sleep until close to 3am had made Tessa grumpy, and she completely blamed Lydia Martin for it.

Tessa had made the mistake of mentioning Theo to her, casually dropping in how cute he was, and of course Lydia had wanted to know everything – it didn’t matter that Tessa didn’t even know anything about the new arrival. No, it had just spurred Lydia on even further and soon she had commandeered Tessa’s laptop and was Facebook stalking the poor boy and Tessa had let her, desperate for an ounce of normalcy in their lives.

But they hadn’t found anything, much to Lydia’s annoyance, and Tessa couldn’t decide whether she was disappointed that they hadn’t managed to find out anything about him, or intrigued at the mystery surrounding him because no matter what anyone said, there was most definitely something mysterious about the new boy.

But, her lack of sleep and subsequent grumpiness was making her irritable, and the way Stiles was yammering on like he was in an episode of Criminal Minds was started to grate on her. She was seriously regretting agreeing to this whole car sharing thing.

“So… You ran a background check, and all you found was a speeding ticket?”

“Yeah, a speeding ticket signed by Theo’s dad eight years ago!” Stiles gestured wildly, desperately trying to make Malia understand his point, but she just stared at him blankly. “Who speeds?” he asked, and Malia shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “People trying to get away from something.”

“Well, how many tickets do you have?” Malia asked, and Stiles smiled proudly.

“None.”

Malia took in a breath and raised an eyebrow. “How many would you have if your dad didn’t get you out of them?” she asked and Tessa couldn’t help but laugh, ignoring the glare Stiles shot her.

“Seventeen…” he answered quietly, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know, Stiles…” Malia paused. “I mean, I see why you’re worried. He’s really hot.”

“Really, really hot,” Tessa nodded.

“He’s got like great hair, perfect body… You should definitely feel threatened,” Malia told him.

“Definitely,” Tessa agreed, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Thank you,” Stiles blinked. “Because I do. Now more than ever.”

“You want me to torture him?” Malia asked bluntly, and Tessa blinked at her in astonishment.

“Uhm, no?” she frowned. “He hasn’t done anything wrong, Malia.”

“I’m pretty sure I can take him.”

“There will be no torturing, Malia!” Tessa whined. “God, can’t we just have one normal day at this school?” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “It’s the first day of senior year, can we just try and get through the morning without threats of torture, violence, or death?”

“Tessa’s right, no torture. Not yet, at least. I have a plan, anyway,” Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “There are steps to doing this right-”

“Oh really?” Tessa raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, first off we get the story, alright? Then, we verify the facts,” his voice dropped slightly as he stepped closer to the two girls. “Then, we find the piece that doesn’t fit and… catch him in the act. That’s how you do it.”

“And which episode of Criminal Minds did you pick this up from?”

“My dad is the sheriff Tessa, do you really think I need to pick up tips from second rate TV shows?” he asked with a frown, and Tessa reached forwards to flick his forehead. “Ouch!”

“Criminal Minds is not a second rate TV show,” she told him. “And Theo isn’t the bad guy. He tried to help Scott, remember? He tried to help fight the guy with the glowing claws,” she flexed her fingers as though and let out a pathetic attempt at a growl as she tried to imitate the werewolf that had attacked Scott the night before.

“That… That was pathetic,” Stiles let out a snort of laughter.

“We’re the humans, Stiles. Humor is all we have,” Tessa shrugged her shoulders, her eyes widening slightly when she spotted Theo getting out of a car a few feet away from them.

“You smell like Stiles.”

“Wha-” Tessa leaned away from Malia. “What do you mean I smell like Stiles?”

“Bad. You smell bad. You smell like anxiety,” Malia narrowed her eyes. “But it’s different.”

“Shut up!” Tessa hissed, nudging Malia’s side as her cheeks flushed and she caught Theo’s gaze. Stiles followed her line of sight and let out a groan, ignoring Theo when he lifted his hand up and waved towards them. Tessa raised her hand to wave back, but Stiles smacked it back down to her side with a glare.

“Tessa he’s the enemy-”

“Why are you so suspicious of this guy?”

“Because…” Stiles paused, glancing towards Theo. “I remember Theo from fourth grade, okay? And that? That’s not Theo.”

“It might be Theo.”

“It’s not Theo, Malia.”

“Fourth grade was a long time ago Stiles-”

“It’s not Theo, alright?” he snapped, and Tessa lifted her hands up in defense.

“How come you don’t know him?” Malia asked her with a frown, and Tessa pulled her backpack further on to her shoulders.

“He left in fourth grade, I didn’t move to Beacon Hills until fifth,” she replied, glancing down at her watch and wincing when she saw the time. “I gotta shoot, alright? I told Lydia I’d meet her before class, we have AP Bio with Finch and we can’t be late.”

“Ouch, you got Finch for your first class on your first day back?” Stiles winced, and Tessa rolled her eyes.

“Tell me about it,” she huffed. “I’d rather deal with Derek on a bad day than deal with Finch on one of her good days. I’ll see you guys later,” she sent them both a quick wave before she jogged inside the school and headed towards Lydia’s locker.

“Tessa!”

She stopped, spinning round when she heard Scott calling her name and smiled when she saw him stood by the entrance – he must have walked in right behind her.

“Hey, Scott,” she sent him a small wave as she walked over to him. “I’ve just left Stiles outside if you’re looking for-”

“I actually wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay?” Scott interrupted, giving her an unsure smile and Tessa couldn’t help but look at him in confusion. “I just sort of… I guess I wanted to apologise for what Stiles said last night and-”

“Oh my God, Scott, don’t even worry about it,” Tessa waved her hand dismissively, praying that she was able to keep her heartbeat under control. “It’s totally fine, I know how Stiles can be. It’s forgotten. There’s no need for you to apologise.”

“…Really?” he asked uncertainly.

“Really!” Tessa nodded. “I mean, I know Stiles likes to think he knows everything about everything, but he can be wrong sometimes, you know?”

“And is… Is this one of those time that he’s… wrong?”

“Yep,” Tessa plastered a smile on her face, not noticing Scott’s expression change. “Because…- well I mean, you’re with Kira and Kira is my friend? And- and we’re friends and you’re Liam’s… You know… So it would weird… right?”

“Right, yeah,” Scott quickly agreed. “Totally weird.”

“Yep…” Tessa trailed off, rocking back on her heels as she pulled her gaze away from Scott’s. An awkward silence fell over them for a few seconds, before Tessa cursed under her breath as she remembered she was on her way to meet Lydia. “I have to go, Lydia’s waiting for me but I’ll see you in bio, right?”

“Yeah, right,” Scott nodded. He paused, opening his mouth to say something but closing is again, instead settling on sending her a smile. “See you later.”

“Uh-huh. Hi Kira, bye Kira!” Tessa waved to her as she walked up to Scott’s side, before she turned around and rushed towards Lydia’s locker. “I’m so sorry I was-”

“You’re late.”

“I know,” Tessa whined. “I was talking to Stiles and Malia, and then I was talking to Scott-”

“You’re late,” Lydia repeated, interrupting Tessa and linking her arm through hers. “And I have information on the new boy.”

Tessa stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lydia rolled her eyes, tugging on Tessa’s arm and pulling her towards their class. “He doesn’t live too far from you, he moved here literally just days ago. Just him and his parents. He seems pretty… normal,” she shrugged, looking around as her voice dropped to a whisper. “Apart from the whole werewolf thing, y’know?”

“Trust me, that’s becoming the new norm in my life nowadays,” Tessa groaned. “How did you even find this out? You didn’t leave mine until like 2.30 this morning and we haven’t even had first period yet-” she stopped when she saw the familiar, smug smile cross her lips and Tessa sighed heavily. “Did you go through your mom’s files again? Lydia, just because she’s the guidance counsellor doesn’t mean you can-”

“I asked him.”

Tessa blinked. “What?”

“I. Asked. Him,” Lydia enunciated slowly. “He was actually very forthcoming. I don’t know why Stiles is so suspicious of him.”

“You… You asked him?” Tessa repeated. “All- all of this information? As though that’s a normal thing to do?” she asked with a whine and Lydia smiled widely, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she shrugged. “Do you have no sense of shame?!”

“Well you have enough for the both of us, sweetie,” Lydia let out a delicate snort of laughter. “Listen, Tessa, we’re friends, right? I know we haven’t always been friends, but we kind of got pulled into this at the same time and I like to think that we’re closer because of that but, honestly… I am sick of you being miserable and single and pining after Lahey-”

“I was not pining after Isaac, we were just friends-”

“And pining after Scott-”

“That is- that is so not even-”

“And this new guy might be good for you, y’know?” Lydia continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Tessa had even spoken. “He’s cute – I mean really cute – and he’s new here which means he’s single, he’s got no baggage and he already knows the big Beacon Hill secret so really, there’s nothing stopping you.”

Tessa pursed her lips, straightening up slightly and narrowing her eyes at Lydia. “First of all, I am not miserable. I was not pining after Isaac either, he was my best friend and I miss him, that’s all. As for what you said about- about Scott- that’s just- that’s ridiculous-” she stopped, glaring towards Lydia when she scoffed in obvious disbelief. “I am perfectly happy being single, Lydia. I don’t need a man to validate my life. I never have, and I never will.”

“While I admire the feminist nature of that little speech,” Lydia paused, unlinking her arm from Tessa’s once they were inside the classroom and leaning forward, placing her lips next to her ear. “Everyone still needs to get laid once in a while,” she added in a whisper, before quickly spinning Tessa around and shoving her towards the bench they’d stopped besides.

With a wicked grin and a wiggle of her fingers, Lydia spun on her heel and glided towards the front of the room, calling a quick ‘have fun!’ over her shoulder before she dropped down into the seat besides Sydney. Tessa watched her go in confusion before she slowly turned to face the other person sat at the bench.

And she froze.

Sitting before her, a cross between a smirk and a friendly smile on his lips, was Theo Raeken.

Tessa screwed her eyes shut and resisted the urge to turn around and hurl loud insults at Lydia, deciding that definitely would not improve the situation. Instead, she placed her books down on the top of the workbench and slowly climbed on to the seat beside him. She leaned against the bench, resting her chin on the palm of her hand and letting one side of her hair fall in front of her face as though it were a curtain protecting her from the new boy’s curious gaze.

If nothing else, it would hopefully hide the blush she could feel spreading over her cheeks as she tapped out a text to Lydia.

Are your banshee senses tingling? Because I’m going to kill you.

Lydia didn’t reply, but she did turn round her seat and blow a kiss towards a scowling Tessa, before she laughed and shot a wink at Kira who was sat across the room from her.

“It’s Tess, right?”

She jumped, her hands fumbling to stuff her phone back into her pocket as she turned to face the boy next to her.

“Uh, yeah. Kind of. I- it’s Tessa.”

“Tessa, sorry,” he smiled, holding his hand out towards her. Tessa stared at it as though it were a snake waiting to strike, before she lifted her eyes and slowly slid her hand into his. “I’m Theo.”

“I know,” she told him, her cheeks flushing even more. “I- I mean… I remember. From last night. From- y’know, when you helped Scott, I mean,” she stuttered, shaking her head as she mentally face-palmed and plastered a smile on her face. “Sorry, can we try that again? I know who you are, I remember you from last night.”

“Not because Lydia was quizzing me about my entire life this morning, then?” Theo raised his eyebrows and Tessa laughed nervously, painfully aware that her hand was still enclosed in his.

“She, uhm… Lydia’s like the social butterfly of Beacon Hills, I’m sorry,” she apologised sheepishly. “She likes to know everyone’s business, it’s nothing personal, I promise. She was the same with me when I moved to Beacon Hills and we were only like… Eleven.”

“I was going to say I don’t remember you from fourth grade, but I thought that might be a little rude.”

“Not rude,” Tessa shook her head with a smile. “We moved here halfway through fifth grade, so you’d probably been gone a while.”

“We?”

“Uh-huh. Me, my mom, my step-dad and my brother. You met him last night, too,” she told him, and Theo’s face screwed up in confusion. “Liam?”

“Oh,” Theo nodded. “He’s your brother? I thought he was your boyfriend or something.”

“Wh- ew, no,” Tessa wrinkled her nose in disgust. “He’s my little brother, he’s two years below us and he’s a pain in my ass most days,” she rolled her eyes, and Theo smirked as he watched her. “I, uhm, I hope Lydia didn’t make you feel uncomfortable with all those questions she asked you, by the way.”

“It takes more than that to make me uncomfortable, Tessa,” Theo grinned. “Especially when I know the information is getting passed on to a pretty girl.”

Tessa winced. “How much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Most of it,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t trying to, but…” he gestured to his ears. “The super hearing, you know?”

“That super hearing the bane of my life,” she huffed, and Theo laughed quietly as Tessa’s eyes drifted to the door when Scott came skidding into the room.

She shot him a smile and he paused, his brow furrowed as he glanced between her and Theo before he slowly took a seat beside Kira, casting a confused lance over his shoulder. Tessa frowned back, mouthing ‘what?’ at him, but Scott just shook his head and turned to the front of the room.

Tessa shrugged, opening her textbook and reading through the sections she and Scott had highlighted together a couple of weeks earlier.

“Is Scott not supposed to be in this class?” Theo whispered, and Tessa jumped slightly when she turned to face him and saw he had moved his stool closer to hers.

“Of course he is. Why?”

“Lydia and the girl beside Scott,” Theo gestured between them. “They’re asking him if he’s in the right class. It seemed a little… condescending?”

Tessa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. “I thought he would have told them by now. He has to take this class to get into his first choice of college. He wants to be a vet, we’ve been studying together all summer. They’re probably just surprised, that’s all.”

Theo leaned away from her, his eyes darting between her and Scott. “I didn’t know you and Scott were-”

“We’re not,” she interrupted quickly, her cheeks flaming. “We’re just friends. Kira, the girl sitting with him, she’s his girlfriend.”

Theo raised his eyebrows. “She’s his girlfriend and she didn’t know he was taking this class, but he told you?” he asked. Tessa opened her mouth to reply, to tell him it wasn’t like that, they were just friends, but she was interrupted by Mrs. Finch as she stood at the front of the room.

“Welcome to AP Biology,” she smiled. “Let’s see who’s awake. Can somebody tell me what plasmids are?” she asked and, unsurprisingly to Tessa, Lydia’s hand was the first one up.

“Circular, self-replicating DNA molecules often used in cloning proteins.”

“Nicely stated, Lydia,” Mrs. Finch nodded. “No, can you tell me what vitamin is absorbed in the stomach via parietal cell production of a glycoprotein?”

“Uh… B-12?” Lydia’s voice wasn’t so certain with this answer, but still Mrs. Finch nodded, her eyes darting around the room until they landed on her next victim.

“Mr. McCall,” she spoke, and Tessa cursed under her breath. “Did you know the answer?”

“Um, no,” Scott answered quietly.

“I’s a common test question. What’s your one college pick?”

“Um-”

“Stop saying ‘um’,” Mrs. Finch interrupted him and Tessa couldn’t help but glare towards her, her knuckles turning white and she tightening the grip on her pen. God, she hated teachers like Finch.

“Sorry,” Scott shook his head. “UC Davis.”

“Good choice,” she nodded her head, seemingly surprised by Scott’s answer. “It’s the best school on the West Coast for biological and physical sciences. You’re in the right class it that’s what you’re hoping for. Who else thinks they’re in the right class?” she asked. Theo’s hand was the first in the air, Tessa’s following soon afterwards as Scott turned around to glance at them once again and Theo sent him a smile. “Good. Then you should all be prepared for the test tomorrow- don’t be so disappointed,” she tutted when her statement was met with a collective groan. “This test is to help you determine whether you should actually be in AP Biology. You have two weeks to drop, tomorrow’s test will just week out the ones who shouldn’t be here, and that could be any of you.”

“I honestly hate her,” Tessa whispered, turning her head to the side to glance at Theo. “I should have known she’d spring a test on us first day back.”

“Good job I’ve got a free period after this,” Theo frowned, looking down at his textbook. “I guess I’m gonna have to study.”

“Ditto.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “You have a free too?” he asked, and Tessa nodded in reply. “Do you, uh, maybe wanna study together?” he reached up, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Tessa blinked, surprised at his invitation but nodded her head anyway as Mrs. Finch demanding everyone’s attention on her. “Great,” Theo grinned, and Tessa managed to muster a small smile back in return, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and resisting the urge to groan loudly.

She was going to owe Lydia big time for this.

#fyeahteenwolfocs #allaboutocs #ocappreciation #teen wolf fanfiction #theo raeken fanfiction #fic: shadows and monsters #tessa dunbar #yO I AM THEO TRASH AND I REGRET NOTHING #i really love him today it happens every monday #and it gets worse the longer he is not on teen wolf #endlesslistofocs #also tessa is like my fave oc considering she's the only one i ever seem to write lol

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