PSL Box

[useofcuriosity]

 

 

Want to play a PSL or a Prompt? Me too! Lets DO IT.  Give a prompt, a word, a picture. Or, start a scene with a fancy au. I'll tag you! It's neat! It's fun! GO JOE.

Examples:

Everyone shift to the left (your character is a werewolf? Now they're a banshee. Or a hunter. Whatever!)
Nogitsune Stuff
Grey's Anatomy Universe
Otherwordly

Comments

Did someone say Zombies?

[unconventional_alpha]

It had been six months since everything had changed. Scott had honestly thought the werewolf thing was a bad point in his life, but that was nothing compared to what had happened after the first reports came in about the attacks. And then everything had fallen apart. They'd stayed together as a group though, for the most part.

Derek and his pack had gone off on their own about three months in. It hadn't been a good parting but it had been their choice and Scott hadn't been able to stop them. Honestly, he'd been surprised they'd lasted that long.

He'd deferred to Chris a lot because he knew how to survive, he taught them how to shoot, how to care for the weapons he'd brought and when he'd fallen trying to protect Allison and Lydia, it had been Lydia who'd finished him off.

Allison had changed after that, even more so than after her mother's death. It was like she'd lost everything that anchored her. Scott tried to help, but there was nothing he could do and when she fell to them, Scott handled it.

He didn't speak for two days after that, just focusing on getting them to safety. Lydia had turned into one of their best assets next to Stiles. When she was bitten, though, she took matters into her own hands and that was the last night either Scott or Stiles slept alone.

They adjusted though and still tried to keep some level of normalcy, but now...

Scott stood in the middle of a creek, pouring water over himself as he tried not to think about the morning. It had been a supply run and he and Stiles had gone, but by the time they'd made it back to camp...

Well, they'd taken care of their own parent respectively and buried them. Which just left him and Stiles. A werewolf who'd refused to kill anyone because there was always another option and his best friend...

Scott closed his eyes, hands running through his wet hair before he walked towards the bank and levered himself out of the water. Killing had become a way of life now and while he knew there was no other way, parts of him had died and were still dying with every familiar face he'd put in the ground.

He was careful coming back to the camp they'd made. There was no fire though, because it could attract attention and Scott dropped down beside where Stiles was sitting, his gaze shifting up towards the moon.

Another week before it was full...

[lefthandedgenius]

She looks at him in confusion that transitions slowly to surprise. Hauling herself to her feet, she takes Stiles' hand as a matter of course. "Allison would notice." she admits, and Allison would know how she feels about people seeing her cry. People seeing her weak.

[useofcuriosity]

Stiles kept his weapons clean, like Argent had taught them and he tried to keep his mind clear like Deaton had taught them. But it was...difficult. Even with the supply runs, there wasn't always time to find medication. Certainly not medication that wasn't exactly life sustaining.

So he was always thinking. He was always thinking, and it was always in his head that maybe they should've followed Derek and Cora wherever they'd gone. South America, maybe? The virus or...whatever had done this to the world, it was probably down there too. But maybe not. Maybe it wasn't, and if it wasn't maybe everyone'd still be alive. Melissa, Allison, Lydia, Argent. His father.

He didn't even know if he'd be alive, come next week or the week after. Scott...he had a feeling he'd at least survive this. If he'd be himself...that Stiles didn't know. Not really.

But he'd never seen a werewolf fall from the bite of a zombie. And that was another thing he couldn't get out of his head.

When Scott sat down, he looked up at the moon with him. "Where do we go now?"

[useofcuriosity]

"She would," he agrees and squeezes her hand lightly. "So, we'll go for a drive. We can talk, if you want. Or not, if you want. We can find some baseball bats and break some milkcrates. Wherever you want to go."

[lefthandedgenius]

"It's crazy. The hospital is the best place in the world. And I just want to get out of here right now."

She looks at him, her fingers squeezing his back. "Get me out of here. Just drive." Then, "You break milk crates with baseball bats?"

[useofcuriosity]

"Nah. I'm terrible with my stance, they mostly just go flying." Is he kidding, or not? Probably not.

[lefthandedgenius]

"It's all in the physics." she murmurs absently as they head for the parking lot. "Do you ever have times where you just want to stop thinking?"

[useofcuriosity]

"Sure. Do you?" He's guessing yes, because why else would anyone ask that question?

[lefthandedgenius]

"Yeah." she says. "And then I wind up feeling bad about it. It's my responsibility, isn't it? To use what I've got? Even when I don't want to."

[useofcuriosity]

He leads the way to his car, thinking about that. "No, not really? You're not a robot. You're allowed to take a breather."

[lefthandedgenius]

As always, she waits by the car door for him to open it. Established habit. "It's more than taking a breather." she admits. "It's more like surrender." She shakes her head. "The resident in cardio said I did exactly what I was supposed to do. But it didn't do any good. What's the point of doing exactly what you're supposed to do if it doesn't do any good?"

[useofcuriosity]

He opens her door, closes it behind her and waits to answer until he gets in. "Because most of the time it does. But not everyone's strong enough to survive what they're supposed to."

[lefthandedgenius]

She shakes her head, staring at her hands. Only a couple of hours ago there was a fragile, essential organ in them. "I guess that's why we're doctors." she admits. "Because we want everyone to be as strong as we are."

[useofcuriosity]

"Is that why you're a doctor?" Things they've never really talked about.

[lefthandedgenius]

"Why I'm a doctor?" she looks over at him, and then as he pulls out of the parking lot, the road ahead of them. "I found a body once. I was in high school. I just started walking and I found it. It was the weirdest thing...but since then I felt like if I didn't jut sit back, if I tried to do something, I could keep things from happening." She looks at him cautiously, like she thinks he might accuse her of being crazy.

[useofcuriosity]

He smiles at her, briefly. He doesn't think that's so crazy. Who wouldn't want to keep people from dying, like that? "That must've been scary, though."

[lefthandedgenius]

"It was." She leans back against the headrest. "But scarier things happened. I had one of those weird fugues and ended up lost in the woods for two days. I still don't remember what happened during that time."

[useofcuriosity]

"Has anything like that happened since?" He's smart enough not to ask if she ever got it checked out. She's Lydia Martin. Of course she did. At least he hopes she did.

[lefthandedgenius]

"Not like that, no." Whether she did or not, she won't clarify. At least, not yet. "But sometimes I still get feelings. Like right before we get a massive casualty trauma roll in. Like today, while I was scrubbing for surgery." Again her eyes go to her hands. "I ignored it."

[useofcuriosity]

"Feelings like something bad is going to happen?"

[lefthandedgenius]

"Feelings like I've just stepped into a graveyard." She can't look at him when she says that, too busy berating herself for how crazy it all sounds.

[useofcuriosity]

"I believe you, for whatever that's worth."

[lefthandedgenius]

That brings her head up, shifting her gaze toward him and unable to keep a grateful smile off her face.

"Really?"

[useofcuriosity]

He smiles back at her. "Really."

[lefthandedgenius]

Her gaze turns solemn. "I've never felt it around you."