Once upon a time, before accurate history was kept; when magick and monsters were more revered than feared, there lived a powerful sect of creatures not-quite-human. The Red Hoods were the most powerful creatures the earth had ever given birth to, denoted by their bright colours and boisterous attitude.

Above all, the Red Hoods believed in the power of love. They were peaceful, happy creatures, even in the darkest of times. Vibrant and alive, even in the face of death and pain, the Red Hoods would fight only for love: and then still, they fought with compassion, mercy, and honour. Love was the greatest force in the world; friendships and family were above all, and romantic love was pure, always. First loves mated for life, and they would live their lives through happily.

Red Hoods were born to humans and humans were born of Red Hoods; the earth chose where the magick went, who was blessed with the power, and that was fair. Men and women who wanted the power, lusted after it, were less inclined to worm their way into the lives of the Red Hoods for that reason.

Of course, that didn't mean the men and women lusting after their power didn't still try to take it from them.

The Red Hoods were thought weak and easy prey to anyone willing to be ruthless and retched. But, as always, the earth provided: wolves, fierce and loyal and protective of their charges, were sent to protect the Red Hoods from the warlords that would kill them for spreading peace through their lands.

The wolves lived peacefully with their chosen charges, bonded to their families happily, a trust sparked between them that ran soul-deep.

One day, an elderly woman came to the valley that the Red Hoods had made their home in. Every wolf growled at her, warning their families away. But a young woman, the youngest daughter of the ruling family of Red Hoods, befriended her, showed her kindness; convinced that kindness was the key to summoning peace once and for all.

It was on the night of a full moon that the girl, Stella, set out for the old woman's cottage with a basket of remedies for her aging body.

Upon her arrival, Stella was attacked, her scream summoning her wolf; a great, black beast with eyes so blue they would flash electric in the light of the moon. He burst through the old woman's door and tore her throat out with his teeth, protecting his charge.

But it was the blow the warlords had been waiting for to make their attack.

Claiming the wolves a menace, the warlords flooded the valley, striking out to take every wolf captive. Within a month, the village was burning as Stella ran to her wolf, summoning all the power she had.

Stella turned the wolf she loved into a man, urging him to make an escape; promising him that they would be together, that she would find her way back to him. His first breath as a man was used to tell her that he loved her, and so long as he lived, he would never give up; he'd hold her to her word.

With one kiss, he was sent away, the new moon painting the world far blacker than it would've, a shroud of smoke in the air from his burning home, to keep him safe.

By the first full moon, he watched from afar in horror so acute it was a sickness as Stella and her people burned for their "crimes", for protecting their wolves. That night, consumed with grief, anger, and pain, he turned his back on the human Stella had brought out of him, shifting his form into the wolf once more, to howl his agony at the bright, bulbous moon.

There was never such power in any creature as there had been in the Red Hoods; but the earth was simply waiting. Waiting as time and lives passed; bringing Stella and her wolf back together again, and tearing them apart when their love was fought against and abused between them. Waiting until Stella could find her wolf; find him and love him as she was meant to-until Stella's wolf could love her as he'd known he always would.

Stiles Stilinski had no idea why he chose a red hoodie.

He had no idea why he yearned to protect the wolf that had threatened his death.

Derek had no clue what drew him into staying.

There was no logical reason why Derek threw himself so willingly between the boy and danger.

They refused to figure out that they'd been born again and again; that they'd suffered and died, bled and killed for each other.

They couldn't figure out what drew them together.

But if they fought it too hard, it would tear them apart.

A/N: So I wrote something for a friend of mine on Tumblr and, in a moment of artist pride that should never have been bourn, I sent it to another friend of mine as well. Both adored it, and this was born. Check out thegrumpiestwolf on Tumblr because she's the one that started me on this ship. Also, her recs are orgasmic. No lie.

TTFN, lovelies. More soon.