#Isaac Lahey card

[outcastpack]

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Fury

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed |

Prompt: the killer now about to be revealed means things are about to get very interesting. how will y/n choose to deal with every problem she is currently facing?

a/n: heyyy guys, hehe.. I’m back. sorry for the long time away, it’s been… chaotic to say the least. I just barely finished the chapter before i posted it so it’s not edited so please excuse any and all mistakes. i plan to go in later and edit when i have a chance, just wanted to get a new chapter out since it’s been so long.

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You never got to have your morning kiss and you were definitely not happy about it. The boys had called you to tell you to get to the police station as fast as you could.

"(Y/N), you need to get here NOW!" The voice of your sarcastic friend made you have to pull your phone away from your ear.

"Jeez, okay, I get it. But I can't leave, I can't find Derek and they're barely keeping themselves under control."

You felt a hand grabbed you wrist and you knew it was Isaac's, "Go, it'll be okay, I can handle everything." You sighed and nodded before confirming you would be at the station as fast as you could.

That's where you were now, the lady at the front desk had let you in. You found Scott, Stiles, and the Sheriff staring at the computer screen. "Okay, what was so important that I just had to be here," your hands were on your hips and they all looked at you.

"The one killing people is Matt," Scott said. You swore you felt your brain explode, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Look he's on the video tapes," Stiles pointed to the computer. "We don't know that it's him Stiles," His dad exclaimed. You walked out to the computer and looked on the screen, you saw a nurse walk up to the boy on camera, "Well, hey, someone talked to him. Maybe you should try to get a statement." They're heads snapped to you and then back at the screen. That's when you got to take a closer look at the nurse that was talking to the supposed Matt.

"Oh, my god," you gasped.

"He's talking to my mom," Scott said horror dripping from his voice.

Scott had called Melissa, under the request of Sheriff.

"Scott, you know how many people I deal with in a day."

"This one's sixteen. He's got dark hair, looks like a normal teenager," Scott expressed. "Yeah, he looks evil," called Stiles.

"Scott, I already talked to the police about this."

Scott got his phone out of his pocket, "Okay, Mom, I'm gonna take a picture and send it to you." He snapped the picture and texted it to Melissa. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah."

"Do you recognize him? Do you remember him?"

"Yeah, I did. I mean, I remember I stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall. Scott, what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Mom. I'll explain later. I gotta go," Scott stuttered ending the call before bringing his attention back to you guys. Sheriff shuffled through papers until he came across the ones he was looking for, "Alright, we've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks outside the trailer."

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of the three murders," Stiles exclaimed.

"The trailer, the hospital, and the rave," you listed.

"Actually four," Sheriff corrected, "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When," asked Stiles.

"A couple hours before you got there."

"Alright, Dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Four's enough for a warrant," Sheriff motioned to Scott, "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official I.D., I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

Stiles dashed out the room, "On it!" Scott had started to call Melissa and with all the stress you couldn't help but pace around the room. "She's on her way here," you glanced up at Scott and then looked at Sheriff to see his expression change, "Sheriff, what's wrong-." When you turned in the direction his eyes were directed you saw Stiles come back in, only he wasn't alone. Matt was behind him, with a gun.

You moved slowly to Scott and Stiles while Sheriff began to try and talk to the striped shirt boy, "Matt? It's Matt, right? Matt, whatever's going on, I guarantee you there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

The boy waved the firearm around like it was a toy, "You know, it's funny you say that, because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are." You saw Stiles' head raise up slightly and despite the dangerous situation, you couldn't help the scowl that made its way onto your face.

"I know you don't want to hurt people," Sheriff tried to reason but something told you that reasoning wasn't going to get you anywhere, "Actually, I want to hurt a lot of people. You four weren't on my list, but I could be persuaded. And one way is to try dialing somebody on your cell phone, like McCall is doing. That could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone."

Stiles and you both turned your heads to Scott, who had pulled his hand out of his pocket. You took a deep breath as you felt your nerves shoot through the roof, your head was hurting. You knew you were losing control because of the spike in emotions. It must of been your intuition trying to take over.

Gripping your hands into themselves you tried to stay focus on the conversation, "Now!" The loud voice made you jump slightly, "Come on," Sheriff nudged his head you guys and you three threw your phones on the desk.

Matt had made Stiles handcuff Sheriff in the holding cell area, while you and Scott stood just barely off to the side. When he was satisfied with how tight the cuffs were set, he grabbed Stiles and jerked him forward causing Scott and you to follow close behind. You had reached a hallway and there were officers laying all across the floor, blood, from their fatal chest wounds, spattered all over the walls.

A loud gasp of horror spilled from you, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "What, are you gonna kill everyone in here," Scott asked in horror.

"No, that's what Jackson's for," he answered, "I just think about killing them, and he does it." Matt roughly pushed your shoulder forward as he guided you back to the main office. He made Stiles go on to his dad's computer to delete any and all files having to do with him. Scott and you were given the job of destroying all physical files.

"Deleted. And we're done," Stiles stated pressing the key on the keyboard, "So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first, whatever that means, we're good here, right? I'll just get my dad, and we'll go, you know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the Kanima."

Lights moved across the windows outside and you felt your breath stop, Melissa was here and there was really nothing you could to protect without risking everyone else. "Sounds like your mom's here, McCall," Matt taunted.

You shook your head while Scott had a destressed expression, "Matt, don't do this," he said, "When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt."

The door opened in the distance as Matt scoffed a laugh, "If you don't move now, I'm gonna kill Stiles first, then (Y/N), and then your mom."

Maybe it was the adrenaline but you couldn't stop yourself from barking back, "You try to put one finger on any of us, and I'll send you through the wall so hard you'll forget who you are." Matt's head cocked to side as if he didn't understand what you meant but even then you could tell he was holding a brave face.

He once again, dragged you three to the front of the Sheriff's office, "Open it," he directed. Scott didn't look towards the door but showed his hesitation, "Please."

"Open the door."

You could practically feel all three of your heartbeats erratic from fear. Scott slowly reached for the doorknob, turning it to reveal not Melissa, but Derek. "Oh, thank God," sighed the werewolf in relief. That relief wore off sooner than it appear as Derek fell to the floor in front of you, he had been paralyzed. Jackson walked into the room standing where the Alpha werewolf once was. His eyes rolled, turning into his usual terrifying slits.

Matt stood over Derek, "This is the one controlling him? This kid," Derek observed in his monotoned voice. "Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big bad werewolf. Oh yeah, that's right. I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, Kanimas. It's like a fricking Halloween party every full moon. Except for you two. What do you turn into?"

"None of your business."

"Abominable snowman. But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal."

Matt especially didn't like Stiles' answer, he tipped his head and instantly Jackson's claw swiped the back of Stiles' neck sending him to the floor and onto of Derek. You and Scott made noises of protest only for Jackson to mock you by wagging his finger.

"You bitch."

"Get him off of me," Derek gritted.

Matt laughed at the sight, "Oh, I don't know Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must kind of suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

"Still got some teeth," Derek quipped, "Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am."

"Yeah, bitch," Stiles muttered out, his voice muffled.

More lights passed by and this time you knew it had to be Melissa. Matt had seen them too, calling out, "Is that her? Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near her."

"Scott don't trust him!"

Matt grabbed Stiles' shirt pulling him over and placing his foot on the boy's neck. "Stop, stop! Leave him alone!" Scott had to get a hold of you to keep you from making any sudden movements. Stiles gasped and gagged for air, his face turning red, "This work better for you?" Matt had gone into a stare down with you two and you were seconds from losing control at this point. "Okay, just stop! Stop," Scott pleaded.

"Then do what I tell you to."

You glared at the boy, the amount of hatred you felt in this moment was unlike any other, "Let. Him. Go." You voice sounded so different and you couldn't tell if it was just your imagination or not. "Okay," Scott urged, "Alright, Stop!" The foot on Stiles' neck was released and the boy desperately gasped for air. Matt nudged his head in a direction as he commanded Jackson, “You, take him in there.”

“You…” Matt’s eyes locked onto Scott once more, “With me.” You had no ability to react as Matt grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back, preventing you from doing anything as he made you walk in front of him. He guided you both to the front where Melissa came into the police station.

“Mom?”

Melissa sighed at the sound of Scott’s voice and made her way around the corner, “You scared me, where is every…” She stopped speaking when her eyes fell on you both, Scott in front with Matt’s gun pointing at the back of his head and you locked in position guarding Matt’s body. “Mom, just do what he says he promised he wouldn’t hurt you.” Frozen from the shock of the situation you just stood silently your head hanging slightly. “He’s right,” Matt confirmed. Everything felt slow, your ears began to ring and your mind tried its best to process the next few seconds.

You watched as Scott hunched over and Melissa cover her mouth as you assumed she screamed, you didn’t know. Your ears were buzzing like a bomb had gone off right next to you. The smell of gunpowder filled your nose and the sight of smoke covered your vision. Tears seeped from your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. Rationally speaking, Scott was going to be okay, being supernatural had those perks but your brain didn’t seem to register that in the moment. You pulled your arms down trying to release the grip Matt had on you but that only resulted in you having a gun pointed at your head.

“Back, back!”

Matt screamed his voice making the loud bells in your ears ring more, “Mom! Mom, stop, Mom!” Scott covered his wound, the pain making him wince. “Scott,” Melissa said shakily. You felt Matt bang the side of your head harder with the barrel of the gun, “I said get back, unless you want me to blow her head off,” Matt spit venomously. You heard Sheriff called from the holding cells and it caused an explosive reaction from the troubled boy.

“Everyone shut up! Shut the hell up! Now get up or I shoot her next!”

Your eyes closed instinctively, you heard the rustling of Scott’s clothes as he stood slowly. Matt forced Melissa into a cell, she stood at the bars her face covered in her running makeup from her tears. You and Scott stood off to the side, both not moving afraid to cause everyone else to get hurt. You held up Scott as best as you could, your hand also covering his gun wound putting pressure the best you could.

“Please, he needs to see a doctor,” Melissa pleaded.

“You think so?” Matt whispered back.

Sheriff yanked on the handcuff keeping him on the wall, “Hey! Hey, you listen to me!”

Scott interrupted to reassure both his mom and the Sheriff, “It’s alright, I’m okay.” Melissa could handle her son’s words as she shook her head in denial, “No, honey, you’re not okay.” Scott continued on to tell her it didn’t hurt, Melissa again denying her son’s words saying it’s the adrenaline talking, she pleaded once more with Matt to let her stop the bleeding. It only caused Matt to look at you both taunting you, “They have no idea do they?”

“Please. Just let me take a quick look at him!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Lady if you keep talking, I’m gonna put the next bullet through his head.” Melissa finally conceded and Matt order you both to the front.

Your heart raced, sweat dripping down your temple as your mind ran through every possible outcome. So far, not a single solution came to you, at least not one that allowed for most of you to get out of here alive. If only you knew of some kind of spell or chanting that could get you to call for help. Maybe a way to send a message mentally?

Every thought in your brain was cut off as Matt pushed you into Scott, nearly falling on your face had the werewolf not had caught you himself.

“The evidence is gone. Why don’t you just go?” Scott stressed to Matt.

“You think the evidence mattered that much, huh?” Your eyebrows scrunched at Matt’s reply, which only got you a look of annoyance back from him. “No, no, I want the book.”

The bestiary? Why would he need the Argent’s log of every creature?

You soon found out when Scott asked your same thought out loud and Matt lifted his shirt to show his ribs now scaly, reflecting the same sickly greenish gray that the Kanima did. You grimaced at the sight as if just the picture of it made you ill, which it practically did after everything you’ve been through this semester because of it.

You felt a grip on your arm pulling you more into a different room, Scott not far in front of you. You jolted as the cold metal of the gun Matt held to you touch your skin. Scott grimaced, leaning against the desk as he kept his palm on his bullet wound. You tugged at Matt’s grip on your forearm, “Let me try and heal him please,” you pleaded with not an ounce of venom in your words. Nothing but pure fear dripped from your lips, it was truly the first moment in your life that you felt helpless. Nothing, not Peter, not Derek, not even the death of your parents made you feel as useless as slowly watching Scott, who should be able to heal, die.

Matt tugged you away from Scott, twisting your arm as he spoke, “You know, I feel sorry for you, McCall, cause right now you’re thinking, ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’ And the sad part is you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you actually are healing.”

Matt’s eyes were probably as wide as saucers, you hear the frothing that seeped from his mouth as malice flew with his words, “Cause you know what happens to everyone else when they get shot? They DIE.”

You flinched at his tone, trembling as the coldness that came with fear froze every nerve in your body. You couldn’t believe you were even thinking about this but in this moment you wished Isaac was here. Not even because you thought he could protect you from everything but just because you wanted him near you. As much as he continually pissed you off, now that he was working with you guys his presence had become much more comforting.

“Is that what happened to you,” Scott had cut off your panicked thoughts with his question to Matt. “You drowned, didn’t you?”

You watched as Matt took a shaky breath, “He shouldn’t have let them drink,” he muttered. Scott gave him a confused look, “What? Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

Matt’s voice boomed making you flinch once more, “LAHEY! He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

“Who was drinking,” you asked softly. Matt scoffed stepping forward a little, “The swim team you idiots!”

“I didn’t what was happening! I didn’t know that they had just won state, and Lahey, he’s letting his favorites come over to have a couple drinks to celebrate. Who cares if they’re seventeen, right?”

Your eyebrows scrunched up at Matt recounted his story, “Were you at Isaac’s?”

“He had this first edition Spider-Man, or was it Batman? And we were gonna make a trade. But then I’m over there and I hear music. And everyone’s having a good time and I see Sean. He throws Jessica in the pool. And then Bennett goes in and.. and…”

“Bennett, the hunter,” Scott interrupted his monologue. Matt ignored his question, nodding his attention on the floor, his eyes blurry from the light pool of tears he was started to collect.

“And then Camden. Isaac’s jarhead brother, he grabs me. He thinks it’s funny.”

You eyes widened in realization, the fear in your mind clearing when you connected the thoughts, “They threw you in.”

“I yelled that I can’t swim, but nobody listens. I go under and I swallow water,” Matt describes in detail, sweat dripping from his temples, “and no one cares. And I see these bodies underwater. I see Jessica’s got her hands down Sean’s board shorts. Tucker’s grabbing Kara. And I’m drowning. I’m dying, and they’re laughing. All of a sudden, I’m lying by the pool. And Lahey is right there right above me and he says…”

“You tell no one! This, this is your fault! You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing! You tell no one! NO ONE!”

“And I didn’t. I didn’t tell anyone. And I would see them at school and they wouldn’t even look at me. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, I’d gasp for breath. And my parents,” Matt spit out his story like he could taste the horrible memory, “They thought I was asthmatic. They even gave me an inhaler. They didn’t know that every time I closed my eyes, I was drowning.”

Matt finally turned to you and Scott, as if his trance had been broken, “You know about that little white light that they talk about, you see when you die? Well I didn’t see anything. Just darkness. Everything was dark. But then.. Then came the Argent’s funeral, and everything changed. I was taking some photos and they completely by accident, Lahey gets in one of the photos. I look down at the screen of my camera and I just had this unbelievable rage that fills up inside of me and I just… I look at him and I… I wanna see him dead.”

There was a moment of silence from Matt and that’s when you realized you had a tear trailing down your cheek. Was it for Matt, Mr. Lahey, maybe? Even despite what each of them have done, the raw emotion coming from Matt must have triggered some type of reaction from you.

“And the next day, he actually was. You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology.” He began to pace as he ranted some more and you took the chance to step closer to Scott, your hand coming to clench at Scott’s now bloodied shirt. “Like… Like the furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He gave Scott an unimpressed look upon seeing the dull expression on Scott’s face, “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Was he the guy who stabbed out his eyes?”

Matt’s face turned red as he marched up to Scott and you, waving around the pistol in his hand, “God, that’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Clenching Scott’s shirt tighter in your hand, you jumped as Matt’s gun waved right in your face. “The furies are deities of vengeance,” you whispered, your voice shaky with horror.

Matt without so much as a beat of pause, continued on “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If a crime that had gone unpunished, the furies would do the punishing.” Matt looked off in the distance where Jackson stood, hovering practically on top of Stiles and Derek. “Jackson is my fury.”

“When I saw him the next night, it was like this bond had been cemented between the two of us. I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again. So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me. So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera. And in a few hours, he was dead.”

Matt grew this satisfied smirk on his lips as he glanced at both you and Scott, “So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture and Jackson would take their life.”

As if on cue with the end of Matt’s speech, the lights began to flicker on and off. The alarm system sounding from the malfunctioning of the lights. Matt freaked out from the sudden obstruction, “What’s that? What’s going on?”

He pointed the gone at both of you as Scott tried to assure him that you two didn’t know what was happening. A light scanned across Matt’s face and when you looked out all you saw were burly men with automatics before they began shooting into the window. Without thinking, you grabbed Scott by the back of his shirt and pulled him back out of the line of sight. Glass flung everywhere, scraping against your arms. In your haziness you barely heard the sound of a clank before the fog grenade exploded.

Scott took off with the knowledge that now you two were hidden, his hand in yours as you both ran towards the door, smoke filling your lungs. You saw the glint of Jackson’s half turned figure within the smoke and you took a chance. You flung your arm to the side casting a blast that smacked Jackson into the wall, giving you both enough time to get to Derek and Stiles. Scott went to Stiles and you to Derek only for you to be pushed away from the now almost healed man.

“Take him. Go!” The Alpha werewolf commanded, you scrambled up just behind Scott and Stiles, leaving Derek behind. Jackson recovered finally, walking after you three. You ushered the boys into the hallway of many doors, closing each one behind you to gain even just a spare second away from Jackson. It was short lived considering how rapidly the lizard boy smashed each barrier. You turned once more this time not just closing the door but sending another blast into Jackson’s chest. It sent him back just long enough for you to slam the door closed once more.

Scott set Stiles down somewhere safe, considering that he still couldn’t move, Stiles would only slow you guys down. “Don’t move,” you said dumbly. Stiles gave you a straight and unamused look, Scott sighed, “You know what she means.” Stiles head slinked down when Scott finally let go of him and you two rushed out the door, closing it quietly to hide your location within the station as best as possible.

Scott ran ahead, you only a few feet behind, when you smashed into his back from an abrupt stop. Allison was the reason for the stop, her cross bow pointing directly at Scott’s face. You figured it was from the tense situation, that is until she spoke with such venom.

“Allison,” Scott breathed in surprise.

The dark haired girl disregarded his tone, “Where’s Derek?”

You looked at her with concern, “What are you doing?” Allison did nothing to acknowledge your existence, “If you’re not going to tell me, then get out of my way.” You could feel the sadness start to radiate off the werewolf as he whispered her name once more only to get cut off, “Where is he?” Her words laced with such venom even made you shiver.

“What happened,” Scott asked once again, this time taking a step towards her. She raised her crossbow again, practically pushing it into his chest, “Scott…” Her voice hissed at him, “Scott, you need to stay away from me right now. You need to go. Just stay out of my way.”

Allison pushed passed Scott her shoulder brushing against yours. You tried to reach out to her, calling softly, “All-.”

“Back off.”

It became hard to breathe for a moment as you watched one of your best friends brush you off so coldly, so callously, as if you didn’t even matter to her.

Reality was brought back to you as Scott gripped your forearm gently, leading you through the still foggy police station. You could hear Sheriff yelling as he tried to most likely free himself, with the frighten encouragement of Melissa. Shortly after you hear the terrified shriek of your only mother figure. Scott and you made eye contact before rushing faster through the halls. You found the Kanima hanging along the bars of Melissa’s cell and Derek on the ground. Scott unleashed his claw, piercing the scaly flesh, grabbing ahold of Jackson’s lizard form and threw him on the ground.

Melissa made relief gasps as she saw that you and Scott were okay, “Scott…” She breathed for a second, “Oh, god Scott are you okay,” she cried through her worried tears.

You stood just in front of Scott as the Kanima stood once more, lunging at you. Without a second thought, you felt your eyes flash, your left hand raising to smack the Kanima’s scaly forehead. Your magical glow ringed out in a ripple effect, making the creature stumble from the force of your power. With the extra bit of time, you placed your right hand of his chest and blasted him back. The loud boom from your power echoed in the holding cell room. It gave just enough time for Derek to recover as he snarled, jumping the desk and chasing after the escaping lizard monster.

While your abilities may have saved you and Scott from the scaly claws of paralysis, it did nothing to aid you in the fear in Melissa’s voice. “Scott? Y/N?” She called clearly terrified and exhausted. Your eyes hadn’t stopped glowing from the amped up power you just displayed but it wasn’t like that was the only thing that gave you away. You slowly turned, flinching as Scott rose and you witnessed Melissa’s scared expression. She backed away into the shadows of her cell, as if to try and disappear from the monsters that were her kids.

Monsters.

Huh?

You had never truly felt any different to how you were before until you saw the look on Melissa’s face, the only mother you’ve known since you were just a little kid and she looks at you like you had just crawled out of the depths of hell.

Scott looked at Melissa like a frightened puppy but eventually left, running off to catch up with Jackson and Derek you had assumed. You on the hand stayed frozen staring at the woman with a longing for comfort. You didn’t get it as she continued to shake her head and whisper a cry of, “No!” A tear whisked its way down your face as you stepped closer to the bars, your hands wrapping around the rusted metal. Melissa quickly turned, holding herself as if to hide from you.

“Mom, please,” you whimpered, your eyes cloudy from tears. When you got no response in return, you did the same as your best friend, turned and ran away.

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a/n: …um was that good for a sad ending? idk lol i guess let me know. Hope you guys enjoyed!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo @mxltifxnd0m @thepopcultureaddict @rachlovesactors

[sterekcollabang]

the distance between us

Writer: @elisela

Artist: @thotpuppy

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Jordan Parrish, Lydia Martin, Talia Hale, Derek Hale's Father, Jackson Whittemore, Cora Hale, Laura Hale, Allison Argent, Kira Yukimura, Theo Raeken, Liam Dunbar, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Hockey, NHL Player Derek Hale, NHL Player Jordan Parrish, The Hale Family Lives (Teen Wolf), Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Long-Distance Relationship, Texting, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Jordan Parrish Friendship, Derek/Allison Friends with Benefits, Hockey Fights Summary:

“Alright,” Jordan says, stepping up next to him and pushing him forward. Derek follows when he motions him up to the counter, relieved, because he may be the alpha but Jordan’s his captain, and he’s more than willing to let him take the lead. “You’re going to get him some coffee, and when you give it to him, you’re going to ask if you can get his phone number and if he’d be interested in a date when the season’s over. Offer to take him to a Guardians game or something. We’ll let Allison and Kira plan out the rest of your life tonight, but take it shift by shift until then, Chief.” “I take full responsibility for this,” Allison says, joining them at the counter and giving her drink order to the barista. “I should have taught him how to date back in college.” “I would have ignored you,” Derek says, sliding his card back in his wallet after they’re all done ordering. He hadn’t dated much in college—he hasn’t dated much at all since either if he’s being truthful, and nothing that could even resemble a relationship. A few dates during the off-season, a hook-up occasionally if he needed it, but Derek’s always been fairly content to be single. Until he got to know Stiles.

[Read More]

[takaraphoenix]

Thirteen Truths (and a Lie)

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, True Mates, post Nogitsune, Emissary Stiles, Spark Stiles, Pack Mom Stiles, Alpha Peter, magic, truth spell (in a way), hurt/comfort, Fae/Seelies, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Allison Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, m/f, f/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Scott/Allison, Malia/Kira

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Cora Hale, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura

@writersmonth Prompts: petal + theater

Summary: Seelies have invaded Beacon Hills and the pack goes to negotiate the terms of their surrender. The Seelie Queen agrees to leave, in exchange for a game. Stiles, as the pack's Emissary, is the one who gets to play. If he tells thirteen hard truths, in front of his pack, the Seelies will leave.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

Thirteen Truths (and a Lie)

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Stiles yawned and folded his arms on the kitchen isle, resting his cheek on his folded arms and getting more comfortable. The others were droning on about something but Stiles couldn't find the energy to concentrate. He'd spent the past twenty hours on a research binge, he was sleepy.

"You should pay attention, Stiles," Derek frowned at him, looking somewhat concerned.

"Seelie Court etiquette, dos and don'ts with fae folk," Stiles mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. "I spent the past day studying up on it, I don't need the Alpha lecture – even though I'm sure Peter is doing a wonderful job explaining it to you guys. Go, Peter."

He gave the Alpha a playful thumbs-up and Peter rolled his eyes at him, though the man couldn't fight the small, bemused smile. He stood together with Chris in front of the kitchen isle. The rest of the pack was gathered in a circle around them, more or less. Erica was sitting on Boyd's lap on the couch, with Isaac sitting next to them, talking to Erica. Jackson and Lydia were sharing the love-seat, Lydia on his lap and a heavy book on the armrest next to them as she scanned through it while carding her fingers through her mate's hair, soothing Jackson (which was always a good thing to do during a pack meeting to keep him and Scott from going for each other's throats). Scott, Allison, Kira and Malia were sharing the other couch and oh god why was Stiles in a pack with so many happy couples, that was just disgusting. Kira was braiding Malia's hair. Why were they so cute.

Stiles' eyes found Derek, Cora and Isaac on instinct, seeking the companionship from the other singles in their paired-up pack. Cora offered him a grin and an exasperated eye-roll motioning at Scott and Allison while making gagging motions, which only made Stiles snicker.

Peter cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at Stiles in a pointed manner. "As I was saying, we have to decide how we approach the Seelie Court."

Stiles just offered his Alpha a tired, shit-eating grin. Man, he'd never thought Peter would grow into being a good Alpha. But being brought back from dead had really helped the man. And he loved this pack so fiercely, with the fierceness of a man who had already lost one pack. So when the Alpha Pack had invaded their territory and when the Darach had poisoned Cora, forcing Derek to give up his Alpha Spark to heal his sister, Peter had gone ahead and killed one of those 'spare Alphas running around' (Peter's words. That man was horrible. Why was Stiles so deeply in love with him), making him the new Alpha of the Hale Pack. They'd rebuilt, together. Well, until the next big bad hit them. Stiles' breath hitched at the reminder of the Nogitsune and even without meaning to, he started pressing his thumbs against the pads of his fingers, counting them.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice grew softer as he watched the movement.

Startled, Stiles sat up when he noticed the whole room had fallen silent, everyone staring at him. Everyone watching his finger-counting. Damn it. He hated worrying them. He forced a smile.

"I'm fine, just didn't sleep," Stiles shrugged.

Which wasn't even a lie. Neither of that was. He was fine – his new normal, his new definition of fine, because he would never be 'fine' again, he knew that, it had settled deeply in his bones. He was as fine as he would ever be. Stretching long and cracking his back, he decided to focus on the pack-meeting after all. Better than to let his mind drift to dark places. It tended to do that, especially when he was on too little sleep, which he evidently was today.

"There isn't really much to consider," Lydia picked the previous conversation up again. "When negotiating with the fae, it's important to have one vocal point, particularly to avoid missteps. The chances of someone in this pack speaking out of terms and insulting the fae, or worse even, accepting something from the fae that will be taken as a bargain, is too high."

"Why—y is everyone looking at me?" Scott frowned. "Jackson insults more people than me."

"That's true," Jackson shrugged. "But you would just accept shit from them, McCall."

"Don't fight," Stiles growled annoyed, pinning both betas with a look. "Focus."

Both Chris and Peter regarded him with heavy eyes and Stiles avoided them both, instead turning his attention to the coffee maker to get something to keep him awake. He hated the way they'd look at him whenever he accidentally Pack Mom-ed a little too obviously. It made something anxious twist in his gut, making him wonder if they knew. It was probably wrong of him to 'secretly' be Pack Mom, without actually clearing that with the Alpha and the Alpha Mate, but… But then there were enough things kept between them so he didn't feel overly guilty for it. With a near vindictive energy did he pour himself a coffee before returning to the counter.

"I'll talk to the Seelie Queen," Stiles declared simply.

"Excuse you," Peter huffed out a near amused laugh. "Who's the Alpha."

Peter flashed those pretty, pretty red eyes at him. It was cute how Peter thought that'd get him Stiles' submission. Instead, Stiles simply rolled his own eyes and emptied the cup of coffee in one go, causing Isaac to make gagging sounds and Boyd to make a concerned noise.

"Who's the Emissary of this pack," Stiles countered, raising both eyebrows at Peter. "That's literally in my job description. I represent the pack in diplomatic missions and speak on the pack's behalf. Don't think it can get more diplomatic than a visit at the Seelie Court. Besides, with all due respect oh great Alpha, you tend to get… violent… when your pack is threatened."

"So," Peter narrowed his eyes at Stiles, demanding more.

"There's no way we won't get threatened there," Stiles blinked at him amused. "Seelies play games and they threaten with honey-sweetened words. The last thing we need is for you to take a threat a bit too personal and threaten them back, because we'd be in their realm. They'd not only have the home advantage, we'd be stuck in a whole different realm, Peter. You're good with words, you got a sharp tongue, but so do I. I know how to deal with this. I spent all of yesterday preparing for it."

"He's not wrong, dad," Malia offered with a shrug. "Stiles has a sharper tongue than you."

"From my own daughter," Peter muttered beneath his breath.

"He is the best pick, from a standpoint of his role in the pack," Lydia added. "I would have tossed my own hat in the ring, or even Kira's – kitsune are trickster spirits, so there might be a certain sense of kinship that the Seelies might feel toward her – but as Emissary, Stiles is best suited."

Kira ducked her head. "I would really rather not do a job that requires me to speak sharp and precise. I am more prone to word-vomit and I don't see that going over well."

Malia interlaced her fingers with Kira's and pulled her close enough to kiss. "I like your word-vomits, they're cute. But yeah maybe not vomit all over the Seelie Court."

"Are you sure, Stiles?" Derek frowned at him again.

"You are so way over-protective, dude," Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Don't call me 'dude'," Derek growled annoyed. "And I'm serious."

"So am I," Stiles raised both eyebrows at the former Alpha. "I mean, shit, I'm already best suited from an introductory perspective. It's rude not to answer when asked something and they will ask for our names first. Names hold power. If you give a fae folk your name, they have control over you, but if you just don't answer, you insult them. I'm the only one who can truthfully answer without giving my actual name, because I don't go by my actual name."

"Huh," Erica blinked a couple of times. "Didn't even consider that."

A broad, shit-eating grin spread over Stiles lips. "I was made for this one. Besides! No mortal danger! I mean, you know, not from attacks. Mortal danger from linguistic missteps, but I'm eloquent enough to fight that battle. This one? This one's for me."

His grin turned a little more wicked and Peter flashed his eyes red for a moment in a way that Stiles couldn't quite explain. But what he said was true. Ever since the Seelie Court had moved into Beacon Hills a few days ago, and people started disappearing, Stiles had mentally prepared himself for this. He was uniquely suited to take care of this problem.

"We're all going," Chris declared in a very final Alpha Mate voice. "We won't let you walk into a foreign magical realm on your own, Stiles. But nobody aside from Stiles will speak with the fae or make contact with them. You will not be provoked and you will not provoke. Am I clear?"

The betas all ducked their heads and nodded to varying degrees. Stiles' grin turned a little more soft at the trust from his Alphas, even as it made his heart feel uncomfortably heavy.

/break\

The fourteen of them walked deep into the preserve together the next day. No unnecessary accessories – jackets, scarves, jewelry – nothing that could be snatched or bargained. Nobody was to wander off and, as Chris had declared yesterday, nobody was to speak to the Seelies aside from Stiles. His heart was jackrabbiting in his chest. Peter rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You can do this," Peter whispered in a warm voice. "I know that."

The confidence only made Stiles' heart beat even faster. He nodded sharply as he lead the pack toward the pond deep in the woods. Oh, he really hoped this was going to work. It'd be so much easier with magic, but—He shook his head sharply, he couldn't think about that right now.

"This is a powerful portal," Stiles motioned at the mushrooms growing around the pond. "Water is a bridge between realms already but this pond was turned into a fairy circle too. Do not get lost. I'll go in first, we will all hold hands, there will be no complaints."

His hand slipped into Peter's, who in turn took Chris', Chris holding Allison's, Allison holding Scott's, behind Scott came Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Derek, Cora, Malia, Kira, Lydia, Jackson. One by one, they stepped through the bond, falling through the sky and landing in a true fairy tale kingdom. Everything was a purple blue haze, beautiful. Glowing fireflies in blue and pink flying all around them, butterflies larger than normal circled them. Flowers and tall trees everywhere.

"This is stunning," Kira whispered in awe.

"Do not, under any circumstances, touch anything," Stiles reminded her in a steely voice. "Regardless of how beautiful and harmless it looks. Everything here is deadly."

The kitsune nodded sharply, holding a little tighter onto Malia and Lydia. No one had let go yet. Good. Safer that way, at least until they'd reach the Seelie Court. Stiles' eyes were hard as he regarded them all, counting his pack-members just to make sure they were all there.

"How do we find the Seelie Court?" Scott asked, looking around. "This seems… big…"

"He has a point," Jackson conceded. "I can't see a real path anywhere either."

Stiles smirked at the betas, before tilting his head back and calling out loudly. "In the name of the Nemeton of Beacon Hills, I evoke the Spark's right of an audience with the Seelie Queen."

"What," Peter's eyes were wide in surprise.

It made Stiles laugh and turn toward the stunned pack. "I told you, I am uniquely suited for this job. The Nemeton is what invited the fae folk. As its chosen guardian, I have the right of an audience and can not be harmed until I am before the queen."

"Aren't you full of surprises, little Spark," Peter's eyes danced with something that Stiles couldn't name, before he frowned. "Though I do not appreciate the half-truths. You could have told us."

"Eh, where's the fun in that," Stiles laughed and turned back again.

His laughter died when two Seelie Knights approached them, wearing armor of hardened leafs and bark, adored with gold and gemstones. Their long hair was braided and decorated with poison ivy. They were easily the most beautiful creatures Stiles had ever seen, though he couldn't tell if they were men, women or neither. He just knew he was enchanted. His grip tightened.

"Do not let go until we're at the court," Stiles instructed the pack sharply.

"Spark," one of the knights greeted him, both of them bowing deep. "Our queen is delighted to receive you. If you would follow us, alone, we will bring you."

Stiles returned the bow and spoke while still bent down. "I thank your queen for her hospitality, however, where I go, my pack goes. As she surely can understand, for she would not receive me without her trusted knights present either."

The Seelie Knights exchanged a look, but in the end, they gave a reluctant nod and led the way. They walked through the forest and it felt as though the trees were bending their way, forming arcs for them to walk beneath. It was truly stunning. Until they reached the Seelie Court. Like a naturally occurring amphitheater, in a strange way. The stones and Earth seemed like they had formed the rounded shape all on their own, it was beautiful. The trees above them bore pink flowers, their petals raining down on everything ever so softly. Stiles could imagine being here forever.

At the center of the amphitheater stood a tree stump, the bark rising higher in the back, making it look like a throne. On the throne sat the most breathtaking woman Stiles had ever seen, her dress practically see-through in soft green, with flowers growing around it. Her hair was snow-white, her skin pale and adored with silver freckles like stars. Her eyes sharp and unnaturally green.

Stiles let go of Peter's hand to go down on one knee, bowing to her. The Alpha caught on and followed his example, and so did the rest of the pack after a moment. The knights walked to stand on either side of their queen, who made a delighted noise.

"I am Queen Faerynna of the Seelie Court and I am overjoyed to welcome a Spark in my realm."

"You are too kind, your highness. Your hospitality flatters me," Stiles remained kneeling.

"Rise, and tell me who you are," the queen instructed him.

"I am Stiles, Spark of Beacon Hills and Emissary of our local pack," Stiles said, motioning behind himself. "This is my pack and we thank you for your time."

He could hear one of them – Scott? Isaac? – gasp loudly now that everyone stood again. Stiles didn't turn away from the queen, but he still checked from the corner of his eyes. Ah. Humans, the missing people they were looking for. Dancing with bleeding feed, crying without noise.

"Do you like them?" Queen Faerynna asked excitedly. "They are new! They entertain me!"

Stiles instinctively reached out behind himself to grab Scott's wrist without having to look. He always knew where his betas were, Pack Mom instincts were great. Holding tight, he stopped Scott and jerked him back, giving a light shove and hoping the rest of the pack would catch on and help him keep a lid on this. He loved Scott dearly, but the guy's mortals often got the better of him. He wanted to help the people right now, but they couldn't. It'd incite the queen's wrath.

"They seem like… dull entertainment to me," Stiles offered after a moment. "Not worthy of a queen as beautiful and powerful as yourself, your highness."

The queen looked pleased and intrigued by this, leaning back in her throne. "What do you want."

"Their freedom, and ideally that you leave our territory," Stiles offered bluntly.

"And what do you offer in return?" Queen Faerynna's eyes sparkled eagerly.

"What is it you would want, in return for this," Stiles asked instead of offering anything.

"Mh…" Queen Faerynna's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "You want to take my entertainment away and you claim it isn't worthy of a queen like me, so… If you can entertain me better than they, I will grant your request. They can go and I will bind my realm to another place."

Stiles took a moment to consider. "What… kind of entertainment would you wish for, my queen? I assure you, I am not a graceful dancer, I doubt I would be able to entertain you with dance."

She laughed lightly and shook her head. "Play a game with me and if you play, I let them go."

Adjusting his stance, Stiles tilted his head. "Neither me nor my pack will die or be harmed in this game? And you will let us go too, when the game ends?"

"No physical harm will come to either of you."

"No harm at all will come to them," Stiles argued sharply.

The queen looked even more delighted at that. "No harm at all will come to your pack, if you play."

"And you will keep your end of the bargain regardless of how the game ends?" Stiles asked warily. "Not just in case I win, but also in case I lose."

"Oh, you will lose," Queen Faerynna pursed her lips amused. "But yes. As long as you play, start to finish, I will let you, your companions and the drool little dancers leave my realm."

"We have a deal," Stiles declared, followed by gasps from his pack.

No bargains with the fae. Well, no ill-advised bargains with the fae. He was content with these terms they had set and he knew they would not get rid of the Seelie Court without giving something. He whirled around when there were outcries from his pack. Vines shot from the ground, curling around them from the ankles up to the necks, keeping them all individually rooted to the spot. Blood-red roses sprouted on the vines as they tied the pack up.

"You promised no harm-" Stiles growled dangerously.

"They are not harmed," the queen stated matter-of-factly. "And as long as you play, they will not be harmed. See the thorns as… incentive for you to play along, young Spark."

A vicious snarl formed on his face as he saw the fearful look on Lydia's face, the concern on Chris', the panic on Isaac's. He whirled around, facing the queen again. So he wouldn't have to look at his pack, not feel guilty about the situation he'd gotten them into.

"I'm going to play your game," Stiles muttered, displeased. "Tell me the rules."

"It's simple," Faerynna smiled at him lightly. "I will ask you thirteen questions, one for each member of your pack, and with every hard truth you will reveal to me, to this court, and to your pack, I will release one of your pack-mates. You can, of course, end the game any time by refusing to answer me, but then I will keep every remaining pack-member I still have."

Her eyes were sharp and so were her teeth as she smiled even broader. He froze at the spot, his heartbeat skyrocketing as his eyes widened and his palms started sweating.

"What," Stiles forced the word out. "H… How is that entertaining for you."

He had genuinely considered chess or something along those lines. A game of wits and wisdom, worthy or a millennia old fae. Not this. The queen laughed, her smile growing more vicious.

"You have a sharp, silver tongue, young Spark," the queen pointed out. "You have mastered the art of lying to werewolves. That fascinates me and I think it would be greatly entertaining to see you stripped of your armor and forced to tell your truths."

"Stiles, listen to me," Lydia spoke gently. "It's going to be okay. Whatever you say, none of us will hold it against you. We know you're doing this to save us."

"What do you mean?" Scott sounded confused.

"Sometimes, we tell lies because truths hurt, even those close to us," Peter's voice was filled with bitterness. "Whatever the queen wants to pull out of Stiles, she does so to hurt him."

"Which means that these are things he chose not to tell us," Chris continued. "And that's his right. Everyone has a right to their secrets. So what Lydia means is that we will not hold those secrets against him, whatever they are, even if they hurt us."

"Especially if they hurt us," Peter corrected his mate. "Because it's most likely that that's why Stiles decided to keep them secrets, to not hurt us."

Stiles quirked his lips into a bitter smile at that. Wouldn't Peter know about secrets, mh. Still, the reassurance from his pack somewhat eased the queasy feeling in his stomach. He took a breath at the soft, understanding 'oh' from Scott. Okay. He could do that. Telling the truth.

"Bit rusty, but sure, let's give it a try," Stiles muttered beneath his breath before straightening to his full height, holding his head high too, not cowering before her. "I'm ready for your game."

There was a pause in everyone as the game was about to start. The pack, Stiles, the queen, even the knights. No, everything. Stiles noted the way the falling petals were suspended in the air for a moment. The binding magic of a fae contract was kicking in. And then everything came back to life.

"How can there be a Spark, in a territory where the local Nemeton has been cut down?"

Stiles tilted his head, furrowing his brows. That wasn't what he had expected. He turned to look back at his pack, all thirteen of them wrapped up in vines, thorns digging into their clothes. Blood-red roses adoring the vines. Some of them – Malia, Jackson, Derek and Scott – struggling more, like they could break free if they only tried hard enough. Others like Lydia, Kira, Peter and Chris knew better, stood relaxed, knowing that the vines would only tighten if they struggled.

"You can't ask questions that we don't know the answers to. That's cheating," Chris declared.

The hunter stared at the queen with steely, cold eyes, making Stiles shudder. The glare seemed nearly protective and Stiles felt warmth fill his belly at that thought. He knew it wasn't, but still.

"That's what makes it a hard truth," Queen Faerynna smiled bemused. "Because he knows the answer. He knows the answer but hasn't even told his pack. Delightful."

"Because it's mine," Stiles growled, keeping his head high.

"Not anymore," Queen Faerynna looked gleeful. "Unless you are fine with leaving this court without your friends… I wouldn't mind keeping them for my entertainment."

She curled her fingers together and the vines tightened around the pack. Stiles glared frustrated.

"The Nemeton only plants the Spark. But there have always been three parties. The Nemeton, the Spark, the pack," Stiles answered, raising his head, trying to look down on the queen. "The Hales just stopped looking for a Spark. I'm fairly sure there's always been a Spark, but the Spark has been forgotten by the pack. They thought there couldn't be one without the Nemeton. But the Nemeton still planted the Spark. It takes the pack to ignite a Spark. I only got access to my magic after I joined the Hale Pack, the first time I used my magic was to protect my pack, at the rave."

He could hear the confused noises, saw the looks his pack exchanged at that. Could see the questions in their eyes. His stomach felt like it was filling with lead, even as the roses around Isaac turned from their blood-red color into a pure white and the vines let go, leaving Isaac confused, stumbling forward and instinctively closer to Stiles. Stiles' own instincts told him to put himself between his pup and the threat. The queen. So he pushed in front of Isaac.

"And why is that a secret?" Queen Faerynna asked. "Why not tell your pack?"

The delightful grin on her lips told him that she already knew. His pulse was picking up, he balled fists at the sides of his body, feeling tense and nervous. He didn't like where this game was going.

"Stiles," Peter growled. "Answer her question."

And not just because the pack was in danger. But because the Alpha was angry. He could hear it in Peter's growl. The master manipulator and hoarder of information hated not knowing. This was knowledge regarding his pack that had been deliberately kept from him by his Emissary.

"Because you already lost enough," Stiles forced out, turning to look at Peter, Derek and Cora. "You were already blaming yourself for the loss of your family. You didn't need to know that your family could have lived if the pack had kept looking for Sparks, if instead of the unreliable, weak druid, Talia would have had a Spark as her Emissary. I didn't want you to feel like there was something else you could have done to prevent what happened, not when the past is… in the past."

He pressed his lips together and looked away from the Hales. There was no changing the past and yet this was a fact. If the Hale Pack hadn't stopped looking for Sparks, had kept looking for them, they would have had Sparks as Emissaries for the past seventy years. Whoever had been the Spark before Stiles, they would have been at Talia's side, they could have protected the pack.

"Stiles…" Peter's voice softened. "That wasn't your burden to carry."

"It was," Stiles straightened his posture again, bracing himself for what would come after this. "I am your Emissary. Protecting this pack is my job. Even from emotional pain, Peter."

He chanced a glance at the Hales, seeing pain and pity in their eyes, even as the roses around Cora turned lily white and the vines fell off of her. She came to join Isaac in standing behind Stiles. He took a step forward, away from them. He didn't want comfort or support, because it would just make him more aware of the audience he had. If he had to give eleven more truths, he needed to compartmentalize. Lock away his own feelings in regard to this and focus on the task.

"Your job, mh," a bemused smile played on the queen's face. "What is your job in this pack?"

"I'm the Emissary of the pack," Stiles replied with narrowed eyes.

"Half-truth," Queen Faerynna chimed, shaking her head in disapproval. "Don't make me hurt them. You know exactly what I am talking about. What's your job in this pack, that you're hiding?"

"I'm…" Stiles' voice shook a little and he swallowed hard. "Pack Mom."

Noises of confusion came from behind him, startled gasps. He tried tuning them out, because he knew he wasn't done answering. She required elaborate answers. Painful answers.

"I've been Pack Mom since I joined this pack, back when Derek was still the Alpha," Stiles continued, focusing only on the queen. "I take care of my pack. I used my magic for the first time so I could protect my pups. I protected them from the kanima, at the rave. Put myself between them and the threat. Would do it again every day. Am doing it right now."

He squared up just a little, glaring at the queen and drawing emphasis to the fact that he did stand between her and Isaac and Cora. The two betas made curious noises at that. The queen laughed. Someone else was freed and moments later, he felt Derek's hand on his shoulder. He turned, just a little, looking at the former Alpha, seeing the wondrous look in Derek's eyes.

"I protected Boyd and Erica in the basement. I made them return to the pack. I blackmailed Jackson's parents into not leaving for London. I keep this pack together. It doesn't matter who's the Alpha, I'm Pack Mom and they are my betas first."

For a split second, his eyes flitted back to Peter, but he couldn't make out what the look on the Alpha's face meant. He hoped it wasn't anger. Swallowing hard, Stiles returned his attention to the queen, with Derek standing strong at his side, helping him shield Isaac and Cora. A small smile found its way onto Stiles' lips. The two of them had become friends, close friends, over all the times they'd saved each other's lives. Derek may not have been a good Alpha, but he was a good man and a good friend. He was much happier now, as a beta again, Stiles could see that.

"You keep protecting your pack, I'm sure you've given a lot for them," Queen Faerynna mused. "What else have you given, for that pack of yours? What is the most you have given for them?"

His whole body tensed as a flood of memories flashed before his inner eye, memories of every single time he had gotten hurt, tortured, abducted, tormented, and unable to stop it, he could feel himself starting to count his fingers. His thumbs pressed against his other fingers one by one, forcefully, and lastly pressing against his palm. One, two, three, four, five. Five fingers on each hand. Not a dream. Not a nightmare. Because it started to feel like a nightmare, like he was being tortured on purpose. He counted his fingers again. Derek, Cora and Isaac stepped up to him, careful.

"Stiles," Derek spoke softly, watching the movement of his fingers.

One, two, three, four five. He balled his hands into fists, albeit shaking. He knew what Derek was thinking, what they all were thinking, was acutely aware of the way they'd watched the movement. They knew what this was, what he was doing, why he was doing it. Which was why his actual answer was only going to surprise them even more. Because the Nogitsune wasn't something he had given, not really. It was something that had been forced onto him. That was different.

"I died," Stiles replied after another beat. "I gave my life for this pack. In the Argents' basement-"

He could see Chris and Allison flinch and Boyd and Erica still at his words and he ignored it, instead barreling on to get it over with. "I died in that basement. Because the level of electricity needed to keep wolves from shifting is too much for a human heart to endure. When I tried freeing Boyd and Erica, I got electrocuted. My Spark didn't allow me to stay dead, it restarted my heart."

"Stiles-" Chris' voice broke, sounded so wrecked, it made Stiles' heart ache.

"I died for this pack," Stiles repeated with emphasis, turning away from his pack again to instead look the queen dead in the eyes, his own gaze cold and serious. "And I'll do it again, as often as I have to, as long as I can keep them safe. I'll do anything to keep my pack safe."

And it wasn't just additional information, it was a thinly veiled threat. If she hurt them, he was going to kill her. As simple as that. Queen Faerynna laughed delighted, clapping her hands.

"I will be generous, young Spark. You gave me two hard truths, what you have given and what you are willing to give, so I will in return give you two of your pack-mates."

The vines fell off both Boyd and Erica and without hesitation did the mated pair rush to him and hug him from behind, from either side. He couldn't help but flinch. He'd never wanted them to know. His heart was hammering in his chest and his eyes burned with unshed tears. They let him go reluctantly, after a moment, when they noticed him shaking. Knowing that he couldn't afford to break down here, knowing that he needed the distance. He was eternally grateful to them when they stepped back to fall in line with Cora and Isaac, allowing him to gather himself.

"What are you most ashamed of, most afraid they will learn?"

There was something predatory to the queen's gaze at that, unnaturally long teeth showing in her smile. Stiles wrapped his arms around his torso, too aware of the way Derek, Cora, Isaac, Boyd and Erica were huddling around him, how the rest of the pack stood behind them, still tied up, still in danger, yet all of them watching him. He hunched in on himself, shoulders drawn close. The vines around the other pack-members tightened until there were some pained noises coming from Kira and Lydia. Stiles ground his teeth together, glaring viciously at her.

"I killed Allison," Stiles spat the words out, closing his eyes tightly.

"What are you talking about, she's right here!" Scott sounded desperate, worried. "And you didn't do anything, it was the demon, it wasn't you!"

"But it was me," Stiles growled, voice dripping with self-loathing. "I remember everything it did. It made me watch. I felt the resistance of her flesh when we drove the sword into her and I watched her die in my arms, I listened as she took her last breath. I was too late. By the time I could wrestle some control back from it, she was dead. Lydia didn't scream in warning because someone might die, she screamed because Allison did die that day because I killed her."

He made a wretched sound but managed to not throw up at the court. Yay, him.

"Stiles, I'm alive," Allison pointed out, gently. "M… Maybe it was just messing with you-"

"Go on, young Spark, and I'll let two go again," the queen offered generously.

"I gave up my Spark to bring you back," Stiles whispered, tilting his head down, feeling so small. "I poured all of my magic into you, into bringing you back, I clawed at your soul to drag it back into your body. That's why I haven't used my magic since the possession. I know you all think I'm just afraid of it because the Nogitsune was dark magic, but it's because I don't have magic anymore. I gave it up to bring Allison back. I don't know if it will ever recover, or if it's gone for good."

Shocked and pained gasps and when the five already freed tried to comfort him, he shied away from their touch. He'd never wanted to admit this, he never wanted to tell them that he was useless now, that he no longer had his magic, had no right to be Emissary of the pack anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears running down his cheeks but choking on his sob.

"Stiles…" Allison's voice was so soft as her and Scott walked up to him. "Thank you."

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, and Scott was right next to her, his arms around them both and suddenly, Stiles couldn't fight the sob anymore, clinging onto her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Stiles chanted until his voice broke. "I killed you."

"You brought me back to life," Allison corrected, gently caressing his hair. "You gave up your magic to bring me back to life, Stiles. I don't know how to thank you for that."

The queen waited patiently until his tears died and he gathered himself enough to face her again. He motioned for Scott and Allison to join the others, still wanting to keep them safe, needing to protect his pack. They reluctantly obeyed, after soft additional tugging from the other betas.

"Continue," Stiles ordered, voice rough. "Let's get this over with. I want to go home."

"You told me what you gave up for the pack, what you are willing to give up for it. What have you lost for this pack?" Queen Faerynna asked, tilting her head. "Not given, but what was taken."

Clarification, so he couldn't say his magic. He frowned annoyed. And then he paused when he noticed that he was counting his fingers again. Oh. Right, remembering the Nogitsune did that to him. Many things did that to him. He had too many triggers to keep track of at this point.

"My sanity. My mind," Stiles furrowed his brows, looking down at his hands. "The Nogitsune took my ability to tell reality from nightmare. Every single time something… not normal… happens, I have to count my fingers to make sure I'm awake. And in our lives, every day is a day that something abnormal happens and every time, I have a moment of panic that I'm not awake, not really here, that it's not real, that I'm still stuck in my mind, and I don't think that will ever stop."

This one felt good, in a weird way. Like a tight grip on his heart was easing off and he could breath just a little easier. Scott slipped a hand into his from one side, giving it a tight squeeze and looking at him with those big puppy-dog eyes, sad but supportive. Derek took his other hand. Allison, Cora, Isaac, Boyd and Erica were still standing in a half-circle behind him. Protective. Supportive. There.

The roses around Jackson turned white and the former kanima was free to first check on Lydia and… and then join the others in their protective little half-circle around Stiles. His heartbeat picked up and he raised his chin high to regard the queen coldly. Bring it on, his gaze said.

"What is the thing you are most afraid of?"

Mh. Stiles felt himself strangely detached as he considered this question. Near clinical.

"The Nogitsune made me think I was dying," Stiles whispered. "Dying of the same illness that took my mom. And that… That's my biggest fear. Every day I wake up and I am terrified that today's the day, today I'll start showing actual symptoms. That I'll fully lose my mind, forget all the knowledge I've gathered, forget the people I love, forget myself. That I'll die slowly and alone, even if everyone who loves me is around me, because I won't recognize them."

He blinked repeatedly, blinking away tears as he remembered his mother's vacant gaze. Scott gave his hand a squeeze but didn't speak, knew it wouldn't change anything. Nothing could. The vines let go of Kira and she stumbled up to the rest of the pack, finding her place among them.

The queen tapped her fingers against her chin, smiling. "Who do you love the most?"

"My dad," Stiles answered without missing a beat, this being a truth he didn't mind to part with. "He's the only one I have left. Ever since mom died, since her family turned their backs on us, he's all I have left. I love him more than my own life."

The queen pursed her lips and tilted her head. "That was not the love I was talking about, but it was such a sweet and genuine answer that I will accept it. And it is on me for not being specific."

The flowers around Malia turned from red to white. Ten down, three more to go. This one had been easy. Deceptively easy. Stiles felt himself tense in anticipation for what came next.

"Who are you in love with?" Queen Faerynna rephrased her last question. "Romantic love, dear."

Stiles' eyes widened and he squared his jaw, clenching a hand over his mouth, trying to physically keep himself from answering. No. Not this. Everything but this. She couldn't take this from him.

"Stiles," Lydia spoke softly, reaching out as far as the bindings allowed. "It's okay."

"Yeah," Jackson heaved a sigh. "Not like we all don't know it. You know I'm okay with it, you love Lydia, everybody knows. It's okay."

The rest of the pack made reassuring noises too. Like they knew him. Like they knew what was in his heart. They really thought he was still hung up on Lydia? After all this time?

"I'm not in love with Lydia," Stiles spat out. "I've never been in love with Lydia, it was just easier to be in love with a perfect girl who would never look at me twice than to confront that I'm gay."

He gasped at that, he'd never said it out loud, not even to Scott. His best friend made a confused noise, so did the majority of pack. Like being gay wasn't a big deal. Straight people really didn't get it. Even with the most supportive allies surrounding him, that didn't change the fear.

"Danny is gay, so is my dad, Peter and Malia are bi, Kira is a lesbian," Allison pointed out gently. "I just mean, none of us would have judged you."

"I've told myself that I'm in love with Lydia since first grade, since before I knew what gay even was, that boys liking boys was even a thing that could happen," Stiles snarled, his fists shaking next to him. "Good for everyone who had the emotional space and capability to come to terms with it before high school, I didn't. And when I was ready to come out, when I told my dad that I'm gay he told me not dressed like that, my own father couldn't believe that I could be gay because of the way I dress, so I shoved that back down where it's been for years and left it there. Because living a lie that nobody questions is easier than living a truth that people might reject."

Queen Faerynna regarded him with soft, warm eyes and that made it worse. "I'll accept it. It wasn't an answer to the question I asked, but it was a hard truth, so I will accept it."

The flowers on Lydia turned white, releasing her. She stumbled into Jackson's arms. Stiles marginally relaxed. Two more. He could do this. He felt raw and naked and vulnerable but he had endured eleven truths, he could tell two more and then they could get out of here.

"Now, let me rephrase again, then. One last time. If you do not answer me truthfully this time, I will keep you all here for eternity, young Spark. Who do you desire the most?"

"My mates," Stiles choked out, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. "I want my mates. I know they don't want me, I know that, I learned to accept that, but that doesn't stop me from wanting them. I want them so badly, it physically hurts."

Stiles kept his eyes on the queen, ignoring the surprised gasps from his pack, ignoring Peter and Chris. He could see them in the corner of his eyes, he wished he couldn't. He didn't want them to know this, not them. He'd worked so hard to ignore this. Chris was released and went to hug Allison. He tried to reach out to Stiles but Stiles violently flinched away from his touch.

The queen didn't give Chris a chance to speak. "Why do you think your mates don't want you?"

"Because he has known for two years and never said anything and they've sealed their mate-bond a year ago and never said anything and how could they," Stiles spat the words out, shaking a little. "I killed him, I killed Peter. And I killed Chris' daughter. How could they want me. Half the time, I don't even understand why they let me be part of the pack, much less the Emissary, so that's already more than I deserve. How could they want me, I don't want myself."

His breathing was labored and he knew the look in his eyes was haunted. He pulled away from the pack, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to protect himself. Peter was free, they were all free, and Stiles felt like he was breaking into a million pieces, with all his well-guarded secrets laid bare before them all. He gasped out a sob, trying to gather himself.

"There," Stiles snarled. "I played your game. Now keep your promise."

"Of course, young Spark," Queen Faerynna smiled and it looked nearly merciful. "You played well, so I will reward you. Your Spark is not gone, you simply lost connection to it. Let me help you reignite it, as a thank you for a very entertaining evening."

She lifted her hand, and there was a sudden warmth in his chest. He gasped out as power flooded him, his eyes widened and he knew, in that moment, that they were flashing turquoise, as they hadn't in too many months. The next second, he found himself in the middle of the pond. Dripping wet, with his entire pack, and the previously dancing humans, sitting in the water.

"Stiles-" Peter spoke, his voice sounding unsure.

"No," Stiles shook his head violently and climbed out of the pond. "No. No, I can't. I can't… I… I… I can't have this conversation now, I can't, I need to… be alone, right now."

"I'll drive you home, Stiles," Derek offered in an unusually soft voice.

Stiles turned to glare at the former Alpha. But he knew he was shaking, full body shakes, and was about a second away from a full panic attack. He was also overwhelmed by this new, even stronger connection to his Spark, he felt like his nerves were on fire. After taking a shaky breath, Stiles nodded, giving up. Maybe he could use someone driving him home right now.

He let Derek lead the way back to their cars, where he took Stiles' keys from him and started the Jeep. Stiles slipped into the passenger seat, pulling his legs up, feeling small and exhausted. He rested his head against the window, tears running down his face.

"Tell me if there is anything I can do," Derek requested, voice low.

"G… Give me the weekend," Stiles pleaded. "I can't see them, I can't talk to them, I just… I just need time, please, I need… I didn't want to say any of this, these were my truths and she took them, forced them away from me and I can't deal with whatever Peter and Chris want, I can't."

"Of course," Derek rumbled softly, reassuring.

Stiles sagged a little in relief at the promise. He felt too raw. He needed time to stitch himself together again before he could face anyone, much less Peter and Chris.

/break\

Chris wanted to reach out for Stiles, wanted to comfort him, to hold him. Before he had a chance to did his own daughter step in the way. The look on Allison's face was hard and Chris was shocked to have it aimed at himself. The betas lined up behind her. Putting themselves between Chris, Peter and Stiles. Protecting Stiles from the Alphas. Chris startled as he realized that with a pang.

Derek led Stiles away to the cars, leaving the rest of the pack behind. Peter next to Chris ground his teeth together, keeping from snarling at their betas. Chris reached out, taking his mate's hand.

"Scott, Erica, Jackson, Malia, I want you three to take the injured people to the hospital," Lydia instructed in a stern no-nonsense voice. "I want you to also go and get rid of your aggression because I will not have this escalate into a physical fight. Boyd, I want you to take Kira, Isaac and Cora home. Me and Allison will go with our Alphas and have a conversation with them."

"Why do you think you get to command my pack," Peter asked sharply.

Lydia's eyes were steely. "Because you hurt Stiles. And right now, I'm the only thing between you and the sharp teeth and claws of your own betas, because – and you should know that – we love Stiles. Even if we may not have known that he was Pack Mom, the bond was still there."

Isaac whined at that, leaning into Erica and Boyd for a moment. Of course. The three first betas of the Hale Pack had the strongest bond to Stiles, aside from Scott. The strongest Pack Mom bond. Stiles had just admitted it, that he had become Pack Mom for them. Chris swallowed hard. He turned to look at Peter, who looked guilty and heartbroken.

"Fine," Peter forced out. "Do as she said."

The pack split up, Chris and Peter getting into Peter's car, together with Allison and Lydia. The drive back to the Hale House was tense and quiet, the two girls in the back seething.

"I love you, dad," Allison started as soon as they entered the house. "But you have some serious explaining to do, because I've never felt more protective of Stiles than right now, after he just told me that he brought me back from the dead."

She was shaking, Chris noted. Because she'd died. His daughter had been dead. Chris started shaking too. He reached out for her, wrapping his arms around her. Thankfully, she let him. A sob tore from her throat as he started crying. Mourning her own death.

"There is… a lot that Stiles has done for this pack, without any of us knowing," Lydia's voice was a sad whisper, her eyes on the ground. "And some where we didn't know the depth of his sacrifice. So yes, you two do have some explaining to do and don't you dare growl at me and deny me, Peter Hale. Stiles just bared his soul to us, you owe at least that much in return."

Chris didn't let go of Allison, burying his face in her hair. He'd already lost his entire family, he only had her. The thought that he had lost her, that she would be dead if Stiles hadn't given up his magic for her. His grip on her tightened even more, desperate.

"He's been through so much," Chris admitted after a long moment. "When Peter and I got together, when I learned that we had a third mate in our bond, when I realized he's seventeen, he's… he's your age, Allison, I was… mortified of that. My mate is the same age as my daughter, I needed some time to digest that, I wanted for us to wait until he's at least eighteen."

Lydia heaved a deep sigh, but her eyes were on Peter, cold. "You don't have morals."

Peter barked out a laugh at that. "You're right. His age doesn't bother me. I would have claimed him on the spot, if I could have. But then I inconveniently died. And when I came back, well… There was always something, something dangerous to take care of."

"You found the time to court my dad," Allison pointed out.

There was a pause and a vulnerability to Peter. "He did kill me. I didn't think… I thought he deserved better. I worked very hard to become… better. Worthy of him. And by the time I thought I was a good enough Alpha, he was… possessed… He's still struggling with it. He needed the support of his pack, not the burden of this. You know him, you know he would have tried to put on an even braver face, not to worry us, would have forced himself to be stronger for us."

Both Allison and Lydia fell quiet at that. They knew he was right. They'd just been witness to the proof of it. Stiles kept all his pain safely tucked away, forcing himself to be strong for others. Peter and Chris had thought they did the right thing, didn't burden him with this.

"We need to go and talk to him, we need to explain this," Chris declared.

"You will not."

The four of them turned toward the door as Derek walked in, a dark expression on his face. Peter growled at his nephew, flashing his eyes red. But Derek flashed his eyes right back at the Alpha, growling, baring his fangs. Ready to fight. That was exactly what Lydia had wanted to avoid, any of the more volatile wolves to try and challenge the Alpha on Stiles' behalf.

"You will not keep me from my mate," Peter snarled.

"You kept yourself from your mate," Derek growled back. "You should have told him. You really thought Stiles wouldn't figure it out on his own? Stiles?"

Peter backed off at that, looking tormented. "I just… We'll explain it to him, we'll make up for it."

"But not right now," Derek raised his chin. "I asked him, if there is anything I can do to help him, and he asked me for time. He doesn't want to see anyone right now, much less you two. He earned the right to deal with what just happened, what's just been taken from him. You two didn't tell him for two years, you'll be able to wait three more days to talk to him. He asked for the weekend."

Lydia snorted and shook her head. "He didn't even ask for a full week."

"You know him," Derek huffed. "He's going to spend the weekend compartmentalizing and shoving his feelings back down where he usually keeps them locked up. And then he'll continue pretending that he's fine. I think he mostly asked for the weekend in hopes that we will do the same."

"Probably," Lydia conceded with a frown. "We will have to talk to the betas about this. We all should talk about this, together, so we can deal with our feelings on the matter on our own and don't put that on him too."

"Tomorrow," Allison nodded. "We'll have a pack-meeting tomorrow and talk this through."

Chris' eyes were on Peter and it was a testimony to how guilty Peter must be feeling that he let the three of them just decide this. Not that it was a bad decision. Chris reached out for his mate.

/break\

Peter was frustrated and annoyed. The pack had pretty much given him and Chris a verbal lashing for two days. Both Saturday and Sunday, they kept telling them off for not telling Stiles and picking apart their stupid reasons. They weren't wrong. Peter knew that himself.

He regretted not claiming the boy when he had first met him, but he'd been too feral. What little rational brain he had had been afraid that he would hurt his mate, so he kept Stiles at a distance. And then Stiles had helped kill him and Peter needed to earn the boy's trust first. And then, well…

"You ready for this, love?" Chris asked, holding Peter's hand.

It was Monday evening. They knew the sheriff was out. They also knew Stiles would be home. Allison, Cora and Isaac had told them Stiles had been at school. And that the betas had all wrapped him up in a puppy pile for the entire lunch break, apparently.

"Are you two going to stand there all night, or are you coming in? Door's open."

Both Chris and Peter startled and looked up at Stiles, who was leaning out of his bedroom window and regarding them with a near detached look, bordering bored. Peter hated that. He hated that Stiles felt the need to put up walls with them now. They'd been past that for so long.

Peter gave Chris' hand a tight squeeze before the both of them stepped into the Stilinski home and made their way upstairs to Stiles' bedroom. The boy was sitting on his window-sill, hands in his pockets, a guarded expression on his face as he regarded them.

"I didn't mean to say any of that," Stiles started before they had a chance to even say hello. "I didn't want you to know that I knew. We've had a great thing going of ignoring the mate-bonds. Let's just… pretend Friday night didn't happen and that I didn't say any of that."

"No, Stiles," Chris shook his head with a grave look on his face. "You didn't want us to know and… and we didn't want you to know, for… various reasons. But now that it's all on the table, we really need to talk about it. Don't sneer at me like that, brat."

Stiles ground his teeth together and raised his chin, much like he had done when facing the Seelie Queen. It made Peter's heart clench. He didn't want Stiles to look at them the same way he looked at the villain of the week. He'd worked so damn hard for over a year to prove he wasn't a villain.

"The last thing you said," Peter spoke softly. "The last 'truth' you shared, it may have been what you perceived as the truth, but… it's not the truth. That's a lie that you told yourself, twisted by… I don't know what would make you think so low of yourself, to be honest…"

"Don't act stupid, Peter, it doesn't suit you," Stiles offered him a cold, calculating glare. "I was possessed by a demon and killed countless people, killed an ally, killed Allison, I… Fuck, half the time I can't even look in the mirror because all I see is the Nogitsune."

He wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at his shoes. Looking so much more small and fragile than Peter was comfortable seeing him. His little Spark should be a spitfire of snark and sarcasm, loud and in everyone's face. Not withdrawn.

"We thought you should focus on healing," Chris offered in a reluctant voice. "You pulled away so much and we were scared that if we told you, you would only withdraw even more. You had so much to deal with, we didn't want to be something else you had to deal with."

"And before that?" Stiles raised his eyes to glare at the hunter, then at Peter. "And before that?"

"We're old enough to be your fathers," Chris sighed, rubbing his face. "You are literally in the same class as both of our daughters. When Peter told me, when Peter and I got together, I… How could you want us? You had a choice, the same way I did, because we're human, and I thought that you should have the chance at a normal life, normal teenage high school romance, instead of being stuck with two middle-aged, fucked up soulmates who were both scrambling to get their shit together."

"You… I didn't tell you when I came back from the dead, because I thought I had to become someone worthy of you first. You did kill me," Peter pointed out, causing Stiles to flinch. "I don't hold that against you, but I thought that you did. I thought you would resent me if I told you that oh yeah the guy who turned your best friend into a werewolf and mauled your first love is your soulmate, lucky you! You're not the only one who has doubts, Stiles. I'm sorry we hurt you, I truly am, but we didn't tell you out of the same reasons that you never told us. Because clearly you knew too, you knew about our bond but you never brought it up either – because you thought that we didn't want you. You're a clever boy, I need you to consider that maybe we had the same fears."

Stiles stared at them, with a fragile hope in his eyes. "I didn't… I felt it. Ever since I first connected with my Spark, got my magic, I've been able to feel the mate-bonds. And I didn't… I didn't think you would want to be stuck with an obnoxious brat like me, and then, well, then the Nogitsune happened. Are you… I need you to tell me, promise me, that you're not just saying this now, out of pity, because you're forced to confront this. I can't have hope and see it crushed."

"We had every intention of telling you, once you turned eighteen," Chris promised, his eyes a silent plea on top of his words. "We wanted you to have a… well, what constitutes a normal high school experience in this town, and then we wanted to tell you. When you're a legal adult, which would have also eased some of my worries, Stiles. But we always planned on telling you, we never meant to keep the bond from you. It's not something we are ashamed of or don't want. You are not something we are ashamed of or don't want."

Something in Stiles' posture eased and he started shaking just a little. Peter and Chris were at his side in two quick strides, Peter to his left and Chris to his right. They held their boy close, held him while he cried. He clung onto them both, sobbing into their chests.

"I never blamed you for what happened to Allison," Chris whispered, brushing a kiss against Stiles' head. "And neither does she. Neither do any of us. We all know it was the demon, it was using you. It wasn't you. You were a victim of it too, Stiles."

Stiles held onto them even tighter, shaking with tears. Peter nuzzled his neck.

"Our pack loves you so much, Stiles," Peter chuckled. "They all, individually, and as a group, threatened us. They were fully ready for a mutiny on your behalf. What you said at the court, that regardless of who the Alpha is, these are your betas? That was the truth. I can't believe you've been Pack Mom of my pack and I didn't even notice because I was too busy being smitten with you."

"Smitten," Stiles echoed, sniffling a little. "Nobody says smitten, you're so cheesy, Peter."

"He's also smitten with you though. Me? I am being much more mature and normal about it."

"Oh please," Peter gave him a pointed glare over Stiles' head. "You completely lost it the last time he used a gun against that rogue omega. You fully lost it because that was 'so hot, Peter, so hot'."

Stiles blinked up at them with those big doe eyes of his before he started laughing softly. He leaned into them more comfortably and placed shy kisses on both their lips, making them relax too. And in that moment, Peter thought that maybe they could be okay, together. Heal, together.

~*~ The End ~*~

[munsonshire]

Dating Isaac Lahey Headcanons

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x reader (gender neutral)

Ok, so these are going to be quite general, later on, I'll make some more specific ones.

Masterlist

Being sympathetic towards him about his father

being his shoulder to cry on hard days

hand holding - ALWAYS

Comforting each other

Always making sure that Isaac is helping in some sort of way so that he feels useful

Him being head over heels in love with you, you being the same with him

Isaac squeezes you close to him when you cry

Getting jealous of Allison when she gets a bit too close to Isaac, then getting embarrassed cuz Isaac can smell your emotions and he knows you are jealous

Isaac gets jealous too when some guys try to flirt with you or get too touchy

Him whispering dirty things in your ear to tease you

Sex in the boy's locker room, bc why not

Isaac sneaking through your bedroom window late at night if he's had some kind of nightmare or if he misses you

Feeling safe in each other's company

"You know you're mine right?" "Yeah, and you are mine"

You two underestimating the enemy you're fighting and having to run away for your lives

Being the cutest couple

Isaac comforting you by rubbing your back when you're sad or stressed

Playing with his hair and him with yours

getting into heated arguments that turn out into hot makeout sessions

Stealing his scarves

Him smirking at you ALWAYS

Going to France with him, like the actual country not just Paris if you know what I mean

Both of you being stubborn asf

you take turns on who says sorry first after a fight

Taking each other's v-card

Birthday sex

cuddle sessions

FOREHEAD KISSES AND NECK KISSES

Cute nicknames

Helping him gain control over his wolf form

being his anchor

HICKEYS ON HIM AND YOU - the pack teasing you both for them

[usermischief]

Isaac Lahey in Letharia Vulpina (3x19)

There's a card on my desk for Isaac Lahey, and every one of you losers is not only going to sign it, you're going to write a personal message so profound and deep, it's gonna bring a tear to Coach's eye. 

[sterek-ao3feed]

Kiss Me on the Hood of Your Car

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61426741

by cigamfossertsim

When Stiles needs a quick get-out-of-jail-free card to get him and Derek out of a jam, he claims the other man is his boyfriend. After a bout of necessary PDA to prove their story, Stiles’s mind is rife with fantasies about the broody werewolf that he’s largely suppressed up until now. Fantasies including Derek’s car. During the long, awkward car ride back to Beacon Hills, Stiles tries to hide his growing attraction from Derek’s keen senses unsuccessfully.

Words: 13341, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: 18 yr old Stiles, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Scott McCall references, Isaac being supportive, unrequited crush is actually requited, inappropriate use of the Camaro, all the pack is still alive bc i said so, the leather jacket is important to emotional development, Anal Sex, Knotting, blowjob, Anal Fingering, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Exhibitionism, Outdoor Sex, Sheriff Stilinski references

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61426741

[ashyjingles]

All my works so far

ao3: ashyjingles where i am very much multifandom lol

violent and volatile (thiam and layden, endgame thiam, 80k, 7/12)

Hunger Games AU where Theo and Liam cannot escape their violent and volatile natures. It’s all respective. (It’s all business.)

turkish delight (thiam, 3.6k)

Theo gets hypothermia, hallucinates a little bit, fights the White Witch, and almost dies. But hey, he never actually had to eat that Turkish delight, so it's a win. Probably.

junebugs in the winter time (thiam, 1.6k)

Liam sets up a scavenger hunt Christmas for Theo.

makes you wonder why you even try (theo&lydia, thiam, nb!theo 1k)

Theo somehow gets roped into Christmas shopping with Lydia. The only good part about any of this is the free brownie they got.

god is real and hes my dad (percabeth, 9k, 2/7)

What if by the ancient laws, Dionysus had legitimately claimed Percy on accident, and everyone believed it?

new deck of cards (duntrent, 67k, 10/25)

Trent's just trying to get through his third season of Total Drama without having a mental breakdown. It's not going very well.

paint me like one of your french girls (brisaac, 2.3k, oneshot)

3 times Isaac Lahey didn't know who the hell Brett Talbot was and the one time he did.

stardust (stisaac, 12k, oneshot)

Isaac has an embarrassing crush on Stiles, and his sister, best friend, and ex-alpha are making life really difficult for him. Oh, and the new vampire in town that has decided to start chewing on people. Can't forget him.

pretty flower pot boy (steo, 5.3k, oneshot)

Theo works in the outdoor section of Walmart and lifts heavy things, and Stiles is the dumbass who fell in love (literally) and decided to start gardening just to see him again.

Sinew of the Soul (steo, 8.3k, oneshot)

Theo almost dies for Stiles, they wake up in the same bed, and Stiles fucks up (but fixes it).

[thebisexualdogdad]

Kira Yukimura x Scott McCall x Allison Argent x Isaac Lahey poly headcanons

Tagging @inhumanshadows who I came up with this idea with

● so basically Scott and Allison were dating

● and then they met Isaac and were like wait we both have a crush on him??

● so Isaac joined the relationship

● then Kira came to Beacon Hills and they were like wait we have a crush on her too??

● so Kira also joined the relationship

● telling all the parents was a trip

● Melissa didn't care she was more concerned about where to put Isaac since he was living with them and obviously couldn't sleep in Scott's bedroom anymore

● Chris was like "really?? You couldn't just date one werewolf but two?? And a kitsune??"

● Ken pretended to understand but then Noshiko had to explain to him what polyamory was, "so all four of them are in a relationship?? Like together?? How did Kira go from being single to having three partners??"

● Allison being the supportive girlfriend cheering in the stands while all three of her partners are on the field during lacrosse games

● every game she rotates wearing a different one of their jerseys

● when all of them go out to dinner it's a whole ordeal

● Allison thought Scott and Isaac ate more food than any one person should be able to but then Kira came along and she can out eat both of them

● they went to an all you can eat buffet once and by the time Allison finished her first plate Scott and Isaac were each on plate three and Kira was on plate five

● and when they order in pizza they have to order at least 6 pizzas and every box is empty by the end

● Chris "really guys? You use my credit card and you couldn't at least save me a slice?"

● they go on runs together through the woods

● Scott and Isaac love scaring Allison and Kira by disappearing then sneaking up and picking them up from behind

● as much as the four of them love spending time together they also make sure to have plenty of one on one time with each other too

● Kira has a master schedule that keeps track of when who is going to have solo dates with who

● Scott and Isaac staying up all night playing video games

● "you both look exhausted what were you doing last night?"

● Scott and Isaac looking at each other like they totally didn't just complete a game in 18 hours that is supposed to take people days "...nothing"

● Allison teaching Kira how to use a crossbow and Kira teaching Allison how to use her katana

● Scott and Isaac are both the "well mark me down as scared and horny" meme the first time they see their girlfriends using each other's weapons in a fight

● Allison and Isaac have a lot of study dates because Isaac doesn't do any of his homework otherwise

● Scott and Kira spend a lot of time lacrosse training

● the look on Coach's face when he found out their relationship situation was priceless

● "huh, so that's what polyamory is? I think I did that once in the 90's"

● Scott and Allison have more of the adventurous dates going to new places and trying new foods

● while Isaac and Kira have more casual dates like bowling or going for ice cream

● movie nights with them all cuddled up together on the couch

● Melissa comes home from her night shift at the hospital to find all of them fast asleep and the movie credits rolling

● unless they put on a horror movie because once again Scott and Isaac think it's hilarious to scare Allison and Kira who then don't sleep at all that night

● Scott, Allison and Kira all stealing Isaac's sweaters which are way too big for them

● one day he shows up to school and sees Scott, "Hey is that my sweater?" Looks at Allison, "that's mine too," looks at Kira, "and that one! No wonder I couldn't find anything to wear this morning."

● Allison being fascinated by both her and Kira's family histories

● they do so much research together

● if any of them ever get hurt the other three completely dote on them until they get better

● Scott "you guys I'm okay, super healing remember?"

● Isaac "just relax here I made soup"

● Scott "you have never cooked in your life"

● Isaac "fine Kira made soup"

● Allison "now that's more beliveable"

● they are the talk of the school when they first get together

● but after the shock factor wears off no one even gives them a second look when they are all walking to their respective classes hand in hand

● or when they are huddled close together on a bench during lunch break being all cute and coupley

● even if someone does say something they don't care

● they are happy in and in love and that's all that matters

[endlesstwanted]

Warming Through

Day 1, “Your hands are so cold.” Teen Wolf (TV), Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall Drabble | 100 words

Ao3 link

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Cabin Fic, Cold, Protective Scott

Summary: While spending the weekend at a cabin in the woods, Isaac tries to fight the cold.

Created for: @12daysofchristmas / @multifandom-flash, Isaac Lahey card — Protective instinct

The fire in the cabin crackled softly, but Isaac still sat on the couch with his hands buried in his sleeves.

Scott knelt in front of him, tugging his hands free. “Your hands are so cold.”

Isaac gave him a half-smile, voice low. “Guess the werewolf thing doesn’t cover bad circulation.”

Scott frowned, wrapping Isaac’s fingers in his own. “You should’ve said something sooner.” Isaac was already feeling better.

“I’m fine,” Isaac murmured, but he didn’t pull away.

Scott shook his head. “No, you’re not. Next time, just tell me.”

The softness in his tone unraveled Isaac’s defenses. “Yeah … okay.”

[triskhellion]

15 Shades of Red

Rated: Explicit (3.5k | WIP 1/18)

Relationships: Derek/Stiles, Stiles & Isaac, Derek & Malia, Derek & Isaac, The Family, background Boyd/Erica, Lydia/Jackson/Danny, Heather/Kira

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Malia Tate, Talia Hale, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Kira Yukimura, Heather, Cora Hale, Laura Hale, Matt Daehler, Braeden, etc.

Tags: POV Stiles, POV Derek, Graphic Violence, Mob AU, Spark Stiles, Omega Derek, Mob Boss Stiles, Mob Boss/Pack Alpha Talia, Creeper Stiles, Power Imbalance, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved Derek, Getting Together, Angst & Fluff & Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Blood, Kidnapping, Torture, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Minor Character Deaths, Explicit Sexual Content, (Mostly) Bottom Derek/Top Stiles, Virgin Derek, Light BDSM, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Knotting, First Time Bottoming, Murder Husbands, Mpreg (in epilogue,) Happy Ending.

Summary: Derek is the 23 year old omega son of Alpha Boss Talia Hale, the only non-alpha born to the Hales in at least four generations. Restricted by his overprotective mother after a past kidnapping and misunderstood by the alphas and betas of the Pack, he longs for more than the boring life he's been consigned to and the suitors only interested in him for his name or body.

Stiles became the head of the Stilinski branch of the Gajoš Family at 19 after both of his parents were gunned down six years apart. With the help of a talented group of friends, the secret Spark with a newly powerful and disturbing Gift took down a slew of rivals to keep control of his territory in Beacon City. Now 21, the infamous Boss with a love for the color red is suddenly given an opportunity to bring the object of his affection, a completely oblivious Derek, into his Family as restitution for an unintended, but significant offense by the Hale Pack. He takes it.

Equiknots: Harvest & Hunter's Moon prompts: 18, Between, Corn Equal, Hunter, Knot, Sanguine, Spice, Super & Travel

Stiles

His cool, calm, and collected demeanor was at odds with the anxiety and anticipation roiling inside. Stiles learned years ago to school his facial expressions, to quiet the fingers that itched to drum on any surface, the feet to tap, or a leg to bounce. At least in public. There were the odd lapses, yes, but he couldn’t afford that today. He had to be the Boss, play the unbothered Blade of infamy. 

Of course, the facade alone wouldn’t be worth a damn while in the company of werewolves, but he had other tricks up his sleeve. Or more accurately, hanging from a simple black cord around his neck; the thin, metallic, rune-marked disc the size of an old silver dollar resting flush against his sternum and tucked beneath layers of clothing. A white sleeveless v-neck under a long-sleeved red dress shirt, the shade of which he often used to signal his mood or the tone of the day’s business. (But not always, it wouldn’t do to be completely predictable, not to mention that circumstances often turned on a dime.)

Today he wore a vibrant scarlet, including a matching tie, with his signature charcoal gray 3-piece suit. Bold and triumphant for this was a momentous occasion. Stiles doubted he could’ve engineered a better opportunity himself than the one poised to fall into his lap. Hopefully literally in the not-too-distant future if he played his cards right. 

And to think this had all been set into motion by sheer happenstance after more time than he cared to admit spent daydreaming trying to scheme up some kind of proper introduction over the past few years. But there was always some reason why it wasn’t a good time or likely to backfire if not cause a capital I Incident. There was also the part of him that would rather be able to keep his fantasy alive than risk the possibility of being shot down (and not only figuratively.)

But then eleven days ago his childhood best friend, Scott McCall, had been Bitten by Peter Hale. 

The werewolf had been out of his mind at the time, drugged by a pretty face working for a rogue Calavera with some specialized strain of wolfsbane and made to go temporarily feral. An excuse for Hunters to “justifiably” attack the powerful Pack no doubt. Without his human side in charge to temper his ambitions — he was strong enough to become a Pack Alpha himself if he’d wanted to — the Left Hand of the Hales went looking for someone to Bite. His first Beta.

For some baffling reason he’d ended up going for Scott when he came across the veterinary student, who was entirely unsuitable for “the life,” walking with a date in the park. The terrified 21 year old managed to call Stiles just before he was actually attacked and when he was found by Isaac in some bushes soon after, bloody but healing, the Boss and Enforcer both knew exactly what was happening. 

Isaac had been turned without consent himself several months before, but that Alpha had meant it as punishment for some slight, thinking either Stiles would turn on the new wolf or be killed by him. Instead he restrained Isaac with his power, threw him in a basement room, and slapped a silence rune on it. Then he made a concealment token to keep the change in status under wraps. They quietly figured it out with help from Alpha Satomi Ito, an old friend of Stiles’ mother, and once the blue-eyed wolf had learned enough control they took care of that asshole themselves.    

It didn’t escape his notice that despite all of Scott’s issues with him following in his parents footsteps that it had been Stiles that he had called when his life was on the line. So it goes. They’d started growing apart after his mother was killed and the rift between them widened as they continued going through very different experiences. No matter how many times he tried to explain the concept of a power vacuum — that even if he, or previously his father, had wanted to run away from it all that more people would actually be hurt if they did so — Scott just couldn’t understand. 

And so Stiles never even considered trying to bring him into to fold or tell him about Isaac being a wolf too. That he could find a pack here or that there were even ways to stick around without one. He called up Satomi and she had him on the way to some sleepy college town in Virginia within a handful of days. 

Honestly, the whole situation was for the best for both of them. Scott could go be uncomplicated and enjoy his new lack of asthma with a laid back pack on the other side of the country and Stiles wouldn’t have to worry about him not being part of the Family, but possibly being targeted as an associate. There’d be no more sending anyone to babysit him from afar as he ambled about sketchy parts of Beacon City blissfully unaware of not being mugged either. 

And so here he was. The Hales had contacted him apologetically once they realized what had happened and to whom and he’d let them stew for a few days before responding.

The barest smirk tugged at his lips as he observed the Alpha Heir, Laura Hale, attempt to discreetly scent his emotions, her nostrils flaring slightly as she feigned engrossment with the large painting taking up much of the wall behind his side of the table. The imagery of the Crooked Forest in Nowe Czarnowo on a misty morning was both deeply meaningful for him and an interesting conversation piece for the relatively few guests allowed within these walls. It would likely be quite some time before those gathered here returned again, if ever.

His amusement increased at the wrinkle deepening between her brows when she picked up nothing at all, huffing and turning to side-eye the short red-headed woman speaking with her younger sister, Cora, at the other end of the room. As far as those outside the Inner Circle of the Family knew (or Great Eight as Erica insisted,) Lydia Martin was the Stilinski emissary and responsible for any of their mage craft.

Dearest Lydia was indeed their emissary, his representative in matters both supernatural and mundane. She did also possess magic, though the exact nature of her abilities — that she was a banshee — was yet another closely guarded secret. But it was Stiles himself that created their magical implements, set their wards and, when need be, used his significant abilities to eliminate their threats.

The only people who’d witnessed him in action, enraged and eyes shining the rich burgundy of venous blood, were his most trusted Family and the soon to be dispatched recipients of said power. (The occasional innocent bystander didn’t count because their memories of the event would be wiped clean. He wasn’t entirely amonster.) 

Aware of how requesting attendance by the entire Hale family, lowercase f, would seem an insultingly blatant trap he had sent a blood-spelled letter witnessed and effected by a Notary Mage. He, Isaac, and Lydia — the Head, the Hand, and the Voice of the Stilinski Family — had pricked their thumbs with the small ceremonial dagger and bled beside their signatures on the thick parchment, swearing that there'd be no violence against the Hales by them or those in their service, or with their foreknowledge, on pain of death. 

For a span of 7 hours, equally before and after the meeting’s start time of noon, they could not strike. Unless the Hales attacked first, of course. They weren’t idiots.

Stiles still hadn’t been sure that they would come though, perhaps insisting on meeting in neutral territory instead. He would’ve agreed to that if he had to, but this made things so much simpler. More contained and less prone to erupt in violence or involve outside parties.

The Stilinskis and Hales weren’t formal allies, but they weren’t enemies either. Some minor altercations between underlings aside they had no quarrel with each other, even cooperating when their interests aligned from time to time or giving a heads up about some mutual rival. 

The officiated blood-spell must’ve been enough for the Hale’s own emissary, Druid Alan Deaton to proclaim them safe enough even within another organization’s stronghold. The placid Black man in a forest green suit was currently observing everything from the sidelines and also keeping tabs on Lydia in particular. If he only knew.

In addition, they were allowed to bring a dozen soldiers with then; three were currently posted inside the room, two outside the door, and the other seven were split between the front and back entrances and on standby with their vehicles. He also knew, courtesy of his tech wizard, Danny, and head of security, Boyd, that the Steiner twins (jokingly referred to as Arts & Entertainment) were waiting with a small arsenal just beyond the property line about half a mile away in case things went south. 

The heirloom oak and bronze grandfather clock chimed out the hour and the gathered werewolves turned to him expectingly, but he only looked toward the door and went back to reading the papers spread before him. With every minute after noon the tension grew and at 12:07pm Peter Hale finally broke the silence. 

“Apologies,” he said, tone making clear that he wasn’t the one who should offer them. “But if we could start…” 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Everyone hasn’t arrived yet.” 

The four Hales looked at each other with surprise and discomfort. The druid’s gaze sharpened. 

“You mean Derek and Malia? But wh—“ Peter began.

“Was the invitation not clear?”

“Yes, but they’re not really involved in this level of business,” said Laura, looking towards her mother as the Hale Alpha merely stared at him in silence.

Oh, I’m aware he thought disapprovingly, eyes intentionally flickering to the not-yet-18 year old Cora.

“Nevertheless, this matter affects them as well,” Stiles said, wearing what he hoped was a small, pleasant smile. “So if you could have them come per our agreement—”

“We would greatly appreciate it,” added Lydia, trying to soften the sharpness of his tone and keep things from devolving already. 

The dark haired sisters shared an annoyed look as Peter sat tight-lipped in his seat. After several moments Talia broke eye contact and nodded to Laura. The Heir pulled out her phone and sent a few texts, snorting a minute later at the response. 

“They said they could get here in about 25 minutes, but only by coming straight from the gym.”

Isaac looked over to him and chuckled.

“We promise not to take offense,” Stiles said, quickly banishing the thought of a flexing, sweat drenched Derek before it could fully form. “Refreshments will be served shortly in the meantime.” 

He stood and nodded to Liam who’d been waiting near the entrance for any requests and the young soldier hurried to the kitchen. 

“Excuse me while I attend to a few things in my office. Feel free to explore the library in the drawing room,” he said, gesturing to go through the archway on the right side and across the hall.

He walked over to Isaac on his way out. “Come get me when they arrive.” 

Derek

He was at the power rack about to attempt a new single max low back squat when his and Malia’s phones chimed simultaneously. Always a good sign, Derek thought sarcastically as he let out a long sigh. What now?

His cousin, who had been racing on an elliptical nearby like an angry T1000 with John Connor in its sights, hopped off and grabbed her phone and water bottle as he continued to fume about the interruption, sure that his workout would be cut short.

Coming to the gym, like running beta shifted or blasting his music, was how he took the edge off the unmet needs and burned through the negative emotions that he lived with as a matter of course. The regular focus, control, and clearing of his mind also made it that much easier to mute the “outgoing” of his bonds and hide his interior world from the Pack’s scrutiny. Their well meaning, but frequently misapplied concern, especially his mother’s.  

“They need us at the Stilinski meeting as soon as possible,” she said after reading the message. 

Derek groaned and made a point of completing his lift, though his form was shaky in his annoyance. He’d heard of the letter “requesting” they all attend, but last night when he asked what time he should be ready to go he’d been assured that their presence wasn’t necessary. His presence, really. If she weren’t his usual bodyguard he bet they’d have taken Malia along. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted to go, but he resented being summarily excluded. Again.

Growing up, Derek had never felt like a stereotypical alpha and being months past his 16th birthday he’d been worried about presenting as a beta, who tended to take longer to reveal their secondary sex than alphas did. Not because he thought there was anything was wrong with betas, but because he knew what it would mean in his family. He didn’t want to be different. Othered. 

Not once though did he imagine that he could be an omega. Between Hale genetics being what they were and the rarity of omegas in general (and male ones in particular) it was so beyond the realm of possibility that that particular fear hadn’t even crossed his mind. Then came that first humiliating heat. 

Derek had been playing video games in the den downstairs when it started, not recognizing the first symptoms. Feeling just a bit off he’d taken a nap on the couch only to wake up a few hours later confused and burning up. Simultaneously very uncomfortable and extremely horny, not to mention damp where he’d never been before. It was frightening. 

Ten year old Cora had wandered in to play with her action figures and been alarmed to see him sweaty and groaning and yelled that he looked really sick. Peter had been the first to investigate and after several moments of shock had started laughing and offered to find him a “knotty boy” in front of his now present and scandalized mother.

He’d ended up locked inside an interrogation room with an inflatable mattress and some sheets and a blanket. Laura ran out to hastily purchase some random toys for him and then put them inside with snacks and water, but no one came around to make sure he ate or drank for longer than was healthy. They hadn’t known better.  

Every wolf born in the past four generations of the main Hale family, all 30 of the 37 descendants of his great-grandfather Desmond Hale who had presented before him, had been alphas. (So had the three since.) The only non-alphas in their bloodline had been the mates of those born Hales, mostly betas and a handful of alpha-alpha pairs. There were just two omegas over that time frame: the wife of one of his second cousins and a deceased great uncle-in-law. 

His beta father, Aaron, had been “blamed” for the anomaly having had an omega grandfather as well as a baby brother and two female cousins in his family. He’d died from smoke inhalation saving a handful of strangers from a house fire several years before Derek presented and had been cut off from his family when he mated the infamous Talia Hale, so they’d had no close and trusted source of advice and firsthand information. Oh, they’d read articles and browsed web forums and asked Deaton (who was not at all well versed in the subject) about it, but his family simply hadn’t really known what to do with any omega, much less a male one. 

They’d muddled through, but not without plenty of scars to show for it, mostly on Derek’s end. All of the times when they treated him differently and shouldn’t have, especially after he was kidnapped at 17 by a gang led by a supernatural-hating fanatic.

His mother had been overprotective before then, but when they got him back — bruised and traumatized, but before the worst had happened — he could barely take a piss without someone hovering nearby. 

Derek was steered away from or outright denied any position that might put him “at special risk” as an omega, which was practicality everything of rank or actually interesting. He would not be trained to be Laura’s Second as was customary for the next born nor sent on missions or even errands. If he were more technologically inclined he could’ve worked his way up in Intelligence, but torrenting foreign tv shows and troubleshooting the wifi were about the extent of his abilities. Anything related to their less-than-legal operations were off-limits as well. Unsafe.

No, Derek’s contribution to the Pack was in “Procurement and Supply Management,” i.e. making sure that the Manor and their other private or commercial properties never ran out of pasta or printer ink or toilet paper and that the lights stayed on. He also sometimes floated around filling in for members in Document Control or Internal Mail or did grunt work for the accountants. Sterile and boring.    

Conversely, the one area where they should’ve taken his omega status into account they regularly failed to do so. Acted as if the same level of physical bonding and affection they normally engaged in would be enough for him. At least some of the pack had learned that omegas required more, knew that intellectually, but habits being as they were it generally hadn’t been the case in practice. 

After getting met with annoyed glances or told that someone would come by later and have them never show he simply stopped asking after a while. Cuddling with his sisters once or twice a week while watching movies or tv shows and the occasional touches from his mother had kept him going, but he’d been low to mid-level touch starved much of the time and occasionally worse.

Since presenting Derek always felt at least somewhat apart from the pack as whole. He’d been teased by Peter and the beta soldiers, Aidan and Ethan, who often accompanied him before Malia was of age. He’d overheard certain comments from several others and withdrew even further inside himself, becoming more and more skilled at locking himself away.

What was the point of letting on exactly how dissatisfied and disconnected he felt? Things wouldn’t actually change, there’d just be some grumbling and there-theres and attempts to fix him instead of the situation. 

Things had definitely improved when Malia arrived and had been amenable to random cuddling, but he still held himself back from doing it as often as he wanted to in fear of being a burden. 

No one had been more surprised that Peter had a child than the playboy wolf himself, an alpha coyote-wolf hybrid that had long since been abandoned by her mother. She’d been a hellion of a street kid, causing all sorts of mischief and lashing out while trying to survive, until one day she’d ended up hauled in before the crew leader in charge of protection. 

There was something about her, perhaps certain notes in her scent or something vaguely familiar in her appearance or manner, that gave Finstock pause before delivering the standard beating — non-life threatening or severely damaging — for a shifter her age. The wild-haired Bitten wolf was eccentric and prone to randomly bringing up his lost testicle, but had an uncanny sense about things and kept order in the streets, neither too soft nor overly cruel. Inquires were made, fingerprints and DNA ran, and surprise, congratulations, it was a bouncing baby snarling 16 year old Hale! 

It didn’t take long for her and the then 19 year old Derek to gravitate towards each other, coming from two very different upbringings, but both outsiders in their own way. Malia was trained up and when she turned 18 became his primary bodyguard and the rest was history. 

“C’mon, lets’s bounce,” she said, poking him in the shoulder. “ASAP means ASAP.”

“ASAP also means no shower or change of clothes,” Derek growled, lamenting that Hale Manor was in the opposite direction. He could’ve been there as presentable and on time as everyone else, but nooo. The most he could do was towel off some and slather on the deodorant he had in his bag.

“They’ll just have to deal,” she replied, shrugging. Her lack of concern for propriety was one of the many things he loved about her, but the rules were different for him. Oh well, the only wolves there would be family so perhaps he wouldn’t get that kind of shit for it. Hopefully the Stilinskis had been informed in advance and wouldn’t take their appearance as a slight.

“I guess so,” he muttered, wiping the barbell down quickly before tossing the towel in the used bin. They headed outside and he unlocked the black Camaro in the spot upfront reserved for him. Sliding behind the wheel, he strapped in and started it up as Malia pulled up the directions on her phone. Here we go.

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Noah Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Tracy Stewart, Mason Hewitt, Josh Diaz, Hayden Romero, Corey Bryant

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of blood, mind games, hurt/comfort, feral behavior, implied sexual content

Words: 7656

Ao3 link Masterlist

The Soulmate Train

---

In the town of Beacon Hills, everyone knows the story of The Soulmate Train. A magical train that will take you to your soulmate in the middle of the night. Not every single person in the world gets to board and there doesn't seem to be any type of pattern to those that are chosen either. It's just known that the morning of your nineteenth birthday, you either get a ticket or you don't. 

Simple as that.

For a vast majority of the people who board the train, they're never heard from again. At first glance, knowing this information would scare most people into not using their ticket. Kind of ominous to get on a mythical train and then disappear for good. There was once a rumor that it was taking people just to feed some supernatural creature. A theory quickly disproved when Lydia Martin hopped on the train only to arrive back in Beacon Hills at Jackson Whittemore's house. So clearly they're not being served for dinner, their soulmate just lives somewhere else. 

On the days leading up to his birthday, Stiles wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, he didn't want to leave his father all alone. But on the other hand, after everything he's gone through- Scott getting bit, the Nogitsune, the Deadpool, and all of the shit with the Dread Doctors and the confusion of Theo- maybe leaving wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. Maybe he'd even be lucky like Lydia and come right back here. 

That's if Stiles gets a ticket in the first place. 

Until the morning of his birthday that is and he's woken up by Scott bursting into his room shouting about something his asleep brain couldn't comprehend. He glares at the wolf from under his covers. 

"Scott," his father sighs, clutching his mug of coffee, "I thought we talked about running through a cop's house screaming. How it's a good way to have a gun get pulled on you?" 

"Sorry," the Alpha says offhandedly. "Stiles, you need to get up," Scott yanks the blankets off. 

Stiles dramatically groans, sitting up in bed. That's as good as his best friend is going to get right now. If he had it his way, he’d be going right back to sleep. "Good morning to you too, Scotty," he grumbles. 

"Happy birthday, kiddo," his father commiserates with a soft smile. 

"Thanks, dad. But a good point. Why am I not allowed to sleep in on my birthday?" Stiles asks, stretching life back into his limbs. 

"Because," the Alpha holds up an envelope, "you got a ticket for The Soulmate Train!" 

Scott is much more excited about the development than he is. To be fair, if Stiles had a chance to wake up first, he'd probably be more enthusiastic. 

"Let me see that," his father takes it from the wolf, "it could just be a birthday card."

"That's true, my Nona always sends me a card." 

Scott deadpans, "and the mailman left it on your doorstep instead of your mailbox. Two hours before the truck even comes around. Yeah, sure." 

"Good to see you're getting better at sarcasm, Scotty," Stiles scratches his head, waiting for his father's verdict. 

"Holy shit," his dad gasps, pulling a silver ticket out of the envelope. 

In a flash, Stiles is at the edge of his bed, snatching the item from his father along with the small note card. In bold letters on the shiny ticket reads: ADMIT ONE, Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski.

"Holy shit," he mimics his dad. "I got a ticket," Stiles mutters in disbelief. It's not that he didn't think he was worthy of a soulmate or anything like that. More so than cool, good things like this typically don't happen to him.

It's just surprising is all. 

Scott shakes him out of his staring at the silver paper, asking, "what does the card say?" 

"Right. Uh," Stiles' eyes flicker over the extra paper, reading its contents aloud. 

One-way ticket ONLY! 

NO REFUNDS, REDOS, OR RESCHEDULES!

You may refuse to board, should you wish, but you will not receive another ticket.

On the next moonless night, The Soulmate Express will pick you up outside your residence at 4:45 a.m. sharp.

DO NOT be late!

You are allowed one bag of essentials only.

Have your ticket ready for the conductor or you will be denied boarding.

We look forward to seeing you.

"The next moonless night?" Stiles repeats. "When the hell is that?" 

"Tonight," Scott answers without missing a beat. 

What the-

"Werewolf thing?" His father asks. 

Fairly asked too. Stiles loves his best friend, but he was failing every class not that long ago. If he wasn’t so worried about Liam for a time, Stiles wouldn’t even know when the full moon is.

"I always know the phases of the moon ever since I became one," Scott agrees. "There was the smallest sliver last night, so tonight will be the closest to empty it can get." 

He'd be lying if Stiles said that didn't make him incredibly anxious. He thought he'd have more than sixteen hours before the train arrived. Lydia had a whole week! Now Stiles is torn between going to sleep or not. Because if he's being picked up before five in the morning, Stiles is up far too early for that. But there's also the fact that it's coming for him tonight. These are the last sixteen hours he has to see his father and best friend. 

Stiles doesn't want to lose that precious time sleeping. 

"Well," his father cuts through his mental spiral, "looks like you get to meet your soulmate soon. That's exciting, right?" 

He scoffs lightly, "not like you can prepare me for what's about to happen. You refused your ticket because you were madly in love with mom," Stiles reminds his dad. 

"A decision I still stand by," Noah counters. "But you're not emotionally tied to anybody, son. And don't say us, we're only a phone call away and you know it. Besides," his father waves a dismissive hand, "you've got Melissa on my case about eating right too. I'll be fine." 

"Your dad's right," Scott adds. The wolf gives him the best puppy dog grin, "you deserve to be happy after- well, it's a long list, but you know which I mean." 

Yeah, Stiles knows what he means and he doesn’t want to think about it right now. 

His dad joins them on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "you can always say no. We'll stand by whatever choice you make." 

"We'll even see you off if you go," the Alpha smiles.

Stiles leans into their embrace, "Thanks guys." 

"I love you, son," his dad kisses the side of his head before getting up. "Now, who wants French toast?" 

Stiles and Scott can't clamber out of bed fast enough. 

"Are you all packed?" His dad leans on the doorframe after they had pie. 

He's never been a fan of cakes. So every year for his birthday, Stiles requests a pie instead. Melissa made it this year, raspberry peach. It was fucking amazing. He's going to have to remember that for a future time. A small token to remind Stiles where he came from. The people who cared about him before he had a soulmate. 

Stiles puts the last hoodie- that has a small framed photo of him and his parents wrapped inside- in the one bag he's allowed to bring with him. "Yeah, I'm all set," he says, going through his mental list. "I think."

"Phone? Charger?" His father asks and Stiles nods. "Toothbrush and other toiletries?" Stiles nods again. "I see you're wearing your favorite hoodie already-" It's actually his dad's from the police academy, "-you have clothes in there too?" 

The laugh that bubbles out of his chest is unavoidable. Just a naturally good feeling of his father taking care of him and making sure Stiles didn't panic pack a bunch of socks. 

Again. 

"Yes," he chuckles, "and yes, I have underwear too. I'll be okay." 

"I'm proud of you, Stiles," his father's eyes fill with tears, growing bloodshot. "You made a decision for yourself for once without thinking about anyone else. Just been a long time since I've seen you do that." 

Stiles snorts, "I literally worried about you and Scott the second I looked at the ticket." 

His father drags him into a hug, "but you stopped and that's the point. You finally thought of yourself." His dad sniffles and Stiles squeezes tighter, his own emotions making themselves known. "Your mom would be proud of you too. Overjoyed that you have someone out there that's made for you. Let me look at you," he pulls back with a soft smile, "I don't care where you end up, you'll always have me." 

"Just a phone call away, right?" Stiles' voice cracks. 

"You're goddamn right." His dad ruffles his hair, "think you're going to be able to get some sleep at all?"

"No," Stiles scoffs lightly, "probably not." 

His father nods in understanding, patting his shoulder before leaving. 

"Come on, kiddo," his father gently shakes him awake. "It's four-thirty, you gotta go." 

Despite the gentle nature and soft voice his dad used to get him up, Stiles jolts awake. He doesn't even remember falling asleep. Last he knew, he was playing a video game with Scott- who's now also passed out in bed beside him. They were talking and laughing. Having one last night together. It was nice.

Stiles is going to miss it.

"Okay," he grunts, sleep still thick in his vocal chords. "I'm up," Stiles blinks purposefully, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes so that can focus on what's right in front of him. He yawns, "thanks." 

"There's a cup of coffee downstairs with your name on it," Noah smiles. "I'll grab your bag and get Scott moving." 

Not as awake as he's like to be, Stiles simply nods in response. Sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of his bed to put on his shoes, Stiles' legs feel like lead. Thick, heavy things attached to his body that drag him out of his room and down the stairs. The scent of coffee hits Stiles' nostrils and he groans, finding Melissa in the kitchen with a mug of her own. 

"Morning," she smiles brightly, filling an empty mug and passing it to him. He mutters his thanks, pointedly ignoring how scalding the liquid is, and nearly chugging it. Melissa asks, "are you excited?"

Honestly, Stiles thinks he might throw up. He doesn't have the slightest idea of what to expect. As soon as Lydia arrived back in Beacon Hills, her and Jackson left to go back to London. He'd only come back to celebrate her birthday just to find out they're soulmates. He didn't want to ruin their honeymoon phase. So as much as Stiles misses the banshee, he thought it best not to badger her with a million and one questions about her experience. 

With that said, it wouldn't exactly be truthful to say that he isn't excited. Knowing that there's someone out there specially made for him. Someone who is built to love and tolerate him. That's what most people want in life. 

"I think so," Stiles answers honestly, pouring another cup as his dad and Scott come down the steps. 

He's never seen the Alpha be much of a morning person. Especially before the sun has even risen type of morning. Yet here Scott is, smiling brightly like they didn't sleep for only three hours at the most. "Dude," the wolf's eyes bulge looking at the stove, "you gotta go!"

"Shit." Stiles hastily puts his mug in the sink. His best friend is right, he's got three minutes. "Where's my ticket?" He asks, patting his pockets. 

"Here," Melissa pulls the silver paper from her scrubs. "We figured you'd lose it, so I kept it safe for you." 

"Thank you," Stiles breathes a sigh of relief, taking the ticket and pulling his pseudo-mother into a tight hug. Never once has Melissa tried to replace his mom. But the woman is the closest thing Stiles has had to one since his own passed away. He loves Melissa dearly.

"I'm happy for you, sweetheart," she pulls back with watery eyes. "Call us, please? Let us know you're safe." 

Scott starts dragging him away before he can answer. "Come on," the wolf says, "you're going to miss it! We can say goodbye outside."

Ticket in hand and his belongings with his father, Stiles allows the wolf to pull him. When they get outside of his house, there's softly glowing blue train tracks in the street. 

"Whoa," Stiles stares, jaw dropped. "That's crazy." Scott yanks him into a hug, nearly crushing him. The human doesn't even care about the supernatural strength being used. This could be the last time he ever sees the wolf. "I'm gonna miss you too, buddy," Stiles claps the Alpha’s back and a loud whistle blows. 

"Alright, Scott," his father has to pry them apart, "let me say goodbye to my son." 

The train gets louder the closer it approaches. It's engine rumbling the ground when he takes his bag. 

"I want you to understand something," his father grips both of his shoulders, parental tone in full swing. "I don't care where you go or who your soulmate may be. If you don't feel safe, you call me. I'm still a sheriff, but I can make it look like an accident. You hear me?"

Stiles' eyes well up with tears, but he refuses to cry. "I love you too, dad," he says, knowing that's exactly what that speech meant. 

The train squeals to a stop, a voice yelling, "all aboard the Soulmate Express! Have your ticket ready!" 

The deep breath he takes does nothing to calm his nerves, but it's now or never. Stiles turns to face the massive, black train with glowing blue accents that match the track. Beautiful gold letters spell the name Soulmate Train on the side. Smoke billows from the front car and into the night sky, disappearing like it never disrupted the air in the first place. 

Ticket in hand, Stiles approaches the small set of steps below the conductor. He's younger than expected. Around his age with light brown curls spilling from his hat. Taller than him too.

"Ticket, please?" 

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, Stiles hands the man his ticket. The conductor punches three holes close together, making a triangle in the silver paper. 

"My name is Isaac," he says, handing the ticket back. "I'm the conductor of this locomotive, here to ensure your journey is safe and easy. Are you ready to go?" 

"Yeah, I'm good." 

Isaac gives him a small bow, extending his arm for Stiles to climb aboard, "after you, Mr. Stilinski." 

"Please, just Stiles," he says, climbing the three stairs up onto the train. He enters through the car's open door and when Isaac joins him, it closes on its own. Stiles can't decide if that's normal or foreboding; he's never been on a train before. 

Either way, no turning back now. 

"Your seat is right here," Isaac says when they're halfway through. "You may have the blinds open to wave goodbye, but once we get moving I must ask that you close them and that they remain closed." 

"O-okay," Stiles says, sitting in the plush, red booth and placing his bag beside him. He looks out the window at his family, noticing the faint glow surrounding the glass. "Why can't I have the blinds open?" 

"Do you mind?" Isaac points to the empty booth on the other side of his table. Stiles shakes his head no, gesturing for the conductor to join him. "We have but two rules on the Soulmate Express; that being one of them. Once we depart, I will explain the other to you." He checks his gold pocket watch, "just another minute. I'd say goodbye, Stiles." 

He looks out the window again, waving goodbye just as the whistle blows for their departure. Melissa offers a blown kiss, holding onto Scott whose face is a bittersweet mixture of joy and sadness while waving. His father gives him an earnest smile, waving goodbye when the train begins to move. Not wanting to get in trouble or kicked off, Stiles adheres to the instructions and pulls the blinds down. 

"Thank you," Isaac smiles, "I don't wish to scare you, but it is for your safety that the blinds remain closed for the duration of the trip. Of the few rules we have, it's the most important one." 

"But why?" Stiles doesn't understand the importance of not looking out a window. It's his favorite part of taking an airplane. 

The conductor clasps his hands on the tabletop, "what do you know about the train?" 

"Just that it takes a select few to their soulmate."

"Correct, that is our base function," Isaac says and the train really starts moving. "I assume you know about the supernatural, yes?" Stiles nods. "Great. We run on most supernatural laws. Time moves differently when you're here though. A ride that feels like hours could only be a handful of human minutes. Traveling through worlds, time, space, and even different dimensions or universes over the course of a single trip." 

Stiles’ jaw drops, “holy shit. That’s more of the supernatural than I’ve encountered,” he admits.

“It is for most people who board from earth,” the conductor explains. “Being best friends with a werewolf, you yourself have seen more than most would in their lifetime.”

“Okay, but why the blinds?”

“As I mentioned, we move incredibly fast but seemingly slow to those we pass,” Isaac states. His mouth purses, searching for something, “not everything we pass is kind. Or safe,” he tacks on. “If you open the blinds and make your presence known, I cannot stop whatever is out there from claiming you- or your soul- for themselves.”

“My soul?” He parrots back. This is not what he signed up for.

At all. 

The conductor’s smile dims, “I’m sure you understand that you’re not the first person we’ve picked up. Just like I’m sure you’re also more than aware of the fact that not every supernatural creature is friendly either.”

Stiles scoffs, “yeah, I’m aware.” He’s seen more than a fair share of bad supernaturals. Hell, he used to be one. Or possessed by it at the very least. 

“The rule is in place because most of the- let's call them dens for lack of a better term that we pass on the way is home to plenty of monsters that would love nothing more than to eat an unmated soul. Much like yourself,” Isaac informs him. “Others have become beasts because they didn’t abide by the no looking rule or were kicked off for upsetting my crew.”

This is a lot to swallow. 

“Remind me not to get on their bad side.”

Isaac smiles again, “just be polite and don’t bring up the fact that you’re going to find the love of your life and you’ll be just fine.”

“But,” Stiles crosses his arms, cocking his head to the side, “isn’t that the whole reason I’m here?”

“Yes,” the conductor agrees, “but so were they once upon a time.” 

“They didn’t-”

Isaac shakes his head, “we rejected our soulmates and now we’re destined to be on this train forever.” 

“That’s kind of depressing,” Stiles comments. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that has to be incredibly lonely.” What could have possibly happened that someone refused their soulmate? Other than circumstances like his father. But his dad never boarded in the first place. 

“We’re lonely, yes. But I quite enjoy watching others find the other half of themselves.” Isaac grins, “it’s why I can hear it all the time without going into a…state.”

He’s not so sure he wants an elaboration on that. 

In fact, he doesn’t.

“So how do I avoid upsetting them?” 

“I’ve found it’s best to talk about them,” the conductor says. “If you want, ask them about their life, their interests. Things like that.” Isaac regards him with an expression he can’t quite place, “I honestly think they just enjoy someone who’s willing to know them. Not everyone we pick up is kind. Or smart,” he winks. 

Stiles hums. Part in acknowledgement and part in contemplation. He wants to know more, but this is already a lot more than he was prepared for. Monsters attracted to the light and what’s essentially a cursed crew. This isn’t just a simple ride; supernatural or not. 

“Ask your questions, Stiles,” Isaac chuckles, “I can see them swimming in your eyes.”

“Are those the only rules?” Stiles figures that’s a good place to start. “Keep the blinds closed and don’t upset the crew?” Isaac nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says dumbly to fill the space while his gears turn. “Simple enough, I suppose. So, you’ve been on the train as a passenger, am I allowed to ask you what to expect from the trip? Other than vengeful creatures and monsters that would like to eat me and my soul?”

“I can tell you anything you want to know. Perhaps over a cup of tea or coffee?” Isaac offers. 

“Coffee would be great. Tea would just put me to sleep and I’d like to reach my destination,” Stiles says. He’s also still fairly tired from what little sleep he got. Caffeine would be wonderful right now. 

“I’ll go let them know,” the conductor gets up from his seat. He pauses with his fingers still on the table, “you should know. We’re about to pass through the Fog of Whispers. It’s unfortunately an unavoidable part of the journey.” Isaac warns him, “no matter what you hear, do not open the blinds under any circumstances. The voices you hear are meant to lure you, to scare you. Do your best to ignore them as they only last for a few minutes. Try to think of it like a book being read out loud to you. Not something you’re meant to look at, only hear. And please-”

“Leave the blinds closed,” Stiles finishes.

“I was going to say be stronger than your mind,” Isaac says. “But I’m glad you’re catching on so quickly. I’ll be right back.” He pauses, rapping his knuckles on the table, “I believe in you, Stiles.” 

He watches the conductor head for the door. Except this time, it doesn’t open automatically. Isaac simply walks through it as though it’s not even there. Stiles’ eyes threaten to pop out of his skull. He sat in the booth. He took Stiles’ ticket! Is Isaac technically a ghost?

For lack of natural light, the ornate sconces provide enough that he’s not sitting in the dark. The candles inside them give the train car a warm and comforting glow despite him being the only person here. And everything he’s been told. He should have brought a book. With Isaac gone, he’s bored as hell.

“Stiles,” a gritty voice calls his name from far away. A voice that sends a violent chill down his spine. Churning bile in his stomach and raising the hair on the back of his neck. “I know you hear me, Stiles,” it says again. A gravelly tone Stiles never thought he’d hear again. “Look at me!”

The Nogitsune.

Its command is almost enough to make Stiles open the blinds on instinct. His hand reaches halfway and he pauses. No. He can’t do this. One, he wants to live. Two, Stiles would actually like to meet his soulmate. And three, as great company as Isaac is, he wants off this train eventually.

“You? Have a soulmate? Ha!” The Nogitsune growls, “you’re too broken to have a soulmate. I made sure of that. No one is going to want the used up vessel of mine. Don’t you know that? I ruined you,” it cackles cruelly. 

“You’re not real,” Stiles repeats to himself. He balls his fists so tightly that the knuckles turn white, nails branding crescent moons into his palms. 

“Not real? Not real?!” The Nogitsune sneers, voice twisting. Warping into another’s. “What about me, Sweetheart?” He growls the name. “Am I real?” No. No, no, no, no. “Or did I cease to exist after I got sent to hell because you couldn’t be a big boy and admit your feelings for me?”

“No,” Stiles chokes on the word, putting his forehead on the table and covering his ears. “You’re not there, Theo. This isn’t real. You’re gone,” he cries.

But it doesn’t make a difference. 

The Whispers are in his head.

“Just like your feelings weren’t?” Theo barks a laugh, “or were you just too scared to admit that you fell for the bad guy?”

“I didn’t- I never-” Stiles rocks in his seat, powering through the urge to open the window and prove that the chimera isn’t really there. “Of course I fell for you,” his voice shakes, “it was inevitable.” 

“Bullshit,” Theo spits, “you never loved me. You just let them kill me and did nothing! I bet you were happy when I died.”

Stiles sobs, “no. That’s not true, Theo. I told Scott it was a bad idea.”

“Liar!”

In truth, the minute Theo stepped out of the rain that first night, Stiles was gone. He never stood a chance. But then there was the inescapable feeling that something just wasn’t right. That Theo wasn’t actually Theo and it had nothing to do with him being a supernatural creature. That this wasn’t the same boy that shared his peanut butter cups after punching Jackson in the face for bullying him. But that also didn’t stop Stiles’ heart from screaming for Theo whenever he was around. That night on the hospital roof, his control slipped for the smallest of moments. 

Stiles let Theo kiss him.

Again too when they watched over Josh’s body. 

Then just when Stiles was ready to say fuck it and admit to- submit to what his heart truly wanted, the other shoe dropped. So much happened the night of the supermoon and it made Stiles clam up. To chastise himself for falling for the bad guy. But when Theo got his promised Alpha powers from the Dread Doctors and a pack of his own, Theo still went after Stiles. The sexy smirks and flirtatious remarks didn’t go away.

It got to a point where Stiles nearly forgot that they were supposed to be enemies. When he and Scott talked in the library, Stiles was able to convince Scott to leave without him under the guise of interrogating the chimera. Theo slammed Stiles against the nearest bookshelf once the True Alpha was out of ear shot. He didn’t even hesitate letting Theo kiss him breathless.

Everything would turn sour the moment Theo would ask him to join his pack. It slammed Stiles’ brain with so much logic that it hurt. Everything would come back into sharp focus once more. Stiles couldn’t get himself to utter that three letter word like his heart so badly wanted him to. The word poisoned his tongue more and more each time it wasn’t used.

Until Stiles found out that the chimera had attempted to get Deucalion in alliance with him. He’s seen firsthand the things he could do blind. It didn’t feel right to him that Theo was putting himself in danger without even knowing it. By the time Stiles made it to the tunnels to confess his feelings and beg to leave the Demon Wolf out of this, Theo was already in the hole. 

No one even told him it was happening that night. Stiles thought he had one more chance to convince Scott not to let Kira do that. But when prompted with why they shouldn’t, Stiles didn’t have a good enough excuse. Because reminding the True Alpha that they don’t kill people didn’t work. And if anyone was going to hear it first about how much he felt about Theo, it was going to be the chimera himself. 

Ironic in and of itself because when Stiles finally admitted it to Scott two months later, his best friend shocked him. Said that if he’d known, the wolf wouldn’t have done that. That given everything with Allison, they would’ve figured out how to work with Theo.

The one time things blew up because Stiles didn’t open his mouth. 

He could’ve been happy.

“Stiles!”

Stiles jolts, realizing Isaac had been shaking him and calling his name. The Whispers are gone. No more Nogitsune. No more Theo. “Sorry,” he gasps a breath, hoping to trick his lungs into breathing properly. It half works and he hastily wipes the remaining tears away. “You weren’t kidding,” he gestures towards the window, “they really want you to open that.” His laugh doesn’t quite sound familiar, almost fake. Still a little too shaken up that humor isn’t ready to work just yet. 

“But you didn’t,” Isaac notes, sitting back down. “If there’s a most likely portion of the trip that gets people to break, it’s the Fog of Whispers.”

“Oh, really? I wonder why,” Stiles scoffs sarcastically, looking away to blink away a few forming tears. “What the fuck what that, Isaac?”

“It’s a fog,” the conductor explains. “We can’t get it to filter out no matter how much we try. It comes in through the air vents and gets into your mind for a bit.”

The door on the opposite end of the car opens, a tall blonde man pushes a white cloth covered cart. Coffee and a small plate of snacks rest on top. He looks dull, almost lifeless in his features. 

“Perfect timing, Brett,” Isaac waves him over. 

Again, they’re the only ones here.

“Cream and sugar?” Brett asks, setting the plate and a small, delicate cup of coffee in front of him.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you,” he says politely. 

The waiter’s brows rise, “you just drink it as is?”

Stiles raises a shoulder, “my dad’s a sheriff. I kind of grew accustomed to the taste since it’s all he drinks. How do you take it?” He asks, remembering they like when people care enough to talk about them. And he’s actually kind of curious. 

Brett’s features visibly brighten. Quite literally as color spreads over his face, “I used to be one of those people who had a specific drink at Starbucks.”

“What was it?” Stiles asks. “Maybe if there’s a Starbucks near me, I can try it out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stiles takes his phone out, opening up a note. Handing his phone over, he says, “write it down for me.”

Brett does as told and hands the device over, “I know you can’t tell me what you think of it, but I hope you enjoy it.” He smiles, “it was very nice meeting you, Stiles,” he says before walking away.

“You’re good at this,” Isaac says, crossing his arms and grinning.

“Not to be pushy, but have any idea how much longer this is going to take?” He needs more than just cheese, crackers, and grapes. 

“We should be-” the train jerks and creaks, “-yup, there it is,” Isaac quips. 

“Did we just go off the tracks?” Stiles panics, reaching for the blinds only to stop himself. “Right,” he looks back at the conductor, “why do you not seem worried about that?”

“Perfectly normal.”

Stiles sighs, “of course it is. Why is it? This seems like an awful lot just to reach your soulmate?”

“I don’t make the interdimensional pathways, Stiles,” Isaac raises his hands, “I just navigate them. Besides, isn’t there supposed to be nothing that can get in the way of true love?” 

“Fair point.” Stiles can’t really argue that. He may not love the person yet, but he’s meant to. “So what was that about?”

“Sea of Blood.”

“The Blood Sea,” Stiles corrects with a snort. 

Isaac shakes his head, “Sea of Blood.” Well, that’s just fantastic, isn’t it? “Pretty soon you’ll hear what sounds like whales.”

“It’s not whales, is it?” Stiles asks, knowing it’s not.

The conductor shakes his head again, “sirens. The sea ran red with the blood of their victims centuries ago. I don’t think it’s even water anymore.”

“Yikes,” Stiles shivers the thought away. Who needs to look out the window when his imagination paints a vivid enough picture? He has this feeling that they’re not your average sirens. The ones that look like devilish mermaids. 

Then the call begins. A hauntingly beautiful sound full of enough melancholy to appear alluring. A plea for someone to come help them. To save them from an eternity of loneliness. 

If only it didn’t lead to his death.

“It’s sort of beautiful,” Stiles remarks in wonder. It’s almost like the sound you’d expect to hear on a noise machine to help you sleep. “I see why people confuse them with whales. It’s rather relaxing.”

“Until they rip your spine out,” Isaac retorts. “I’ve seen what they’re capable of. Trust me when I say the only thing beautiful about them is their singing voice. When a siren attacks, it’s the loudest screech you’ll ever hear. High enough to make one’s ears bleed.”

“Peachy, aren’t they?” Stiles takes another sip of his coffee before putting the cup down. “I know you said you don’t make the pathways, but if they’re so dangerous, why not take another route?” Surely there’s less bloodshed elsewhere.

Isaac sips his tea, “would you believe me if I told you that not only is this the fastest route, it’s also the safest?” He eyes the conductor warily. “The Sea of Blood is the best way to get to the dimensional hop. Once there, we’re practically spat out at your destination. But no one can just start here. There’s certain paths. The one we used to take in my early days,” Isaac grimaces, “consider yourself lucky that the beginning was only monsters attracted to light.”

“That bad?” Stiles asks, finishing his drink.

“There used to be creatures that relied only on sound. You breathe too loud in their realm and they’d rip the window clean off,” Isaac explains. “Before getting to the Sea of Blood, we’d have to go under raging waters infested with Krakens and anglerfish the size of planes. It was chaos to deal with all of that on top of the monsters and Whispers.”

“So what changed?”

The conductor fiddles with the rim of his teacup, “one day I noticed an opening and it took the train straight to the Whispers and then here.” Isaac nods his head to the side, “it cut the trip and kept more people alive. I still lose people, but significantly less than I used to. Now it’s mostly from their lack of listening rather than taking too deep of a breath.”

Stiles nods, it makes sense. A crazy concept nonetheless. 

The train jerks around again, wheels squealing in their efforts.

“Are you ready?” Isaac beams, “we’re almost at the jump. Have you been on a plane before?”

“Quite a few times.”

“Good,” the conductor nods, “so you’re familiar with the feeling of takeoff and gaining altitude. How your ears will pop from the pressure?” Stiles nods his agreement. “That’s exactly what the dimensional jump feels like. After that, we’ll be right outside your soulmate’s house.”

Anxiety pools in his stomach along with anticipation. Stiles gives another nod as the train speeds up, “that’s great.”

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous,” Isaac assures him, patting Stiles’ clenched fist. “You can always change your mind when we get there. Soulmates aren’t always what you expect.” The cabin pressure rises and Stiles feels the air bubble forming. “You’ll be a part of my crew should you refuse after the journey, but at least we like each other. It’s your choice, don’t forget that.”

The pressure in his skull reaches a breaking point and Stiles’ ears pop violently. For a startlingly long moment, he worries he might throw up. Nausea crashing into him in endless waves of sour sickness. Leaving him disoriented. Almost like Stiles isn’t in his own body, though he can feel all it.

Without warning, the train screeches to halt. 

“We’re here,” Isaac announces, positively giddy, getting up from his side of the booth. 

Shaking the jitters from his limbs, Stiles grabs his bag, joining the conductor by the exit. “Let’s do this,” he breathes out, wishing he wasn’t so goddamn anxious.

Just like when he boarded, Isaac bows, “after you,” gesturing towards the cabin’s now open door.

It takes all of three seconds after getting on the top step to realize where he is. He’s back home. Well, not his home, but Beacon Hills. The house itself is also painstakingly familiar, it’s on the tip of his tongue. He turns to face the conductor, “who-”

“Stiles,” Isaac smiles, stepping off the train to help him down. “Welcome to the Raeken residence.”

Raeken.

That’s impossible.

“But Theo’s-”

Isaac interrupts him again, “yes, we’re back in Beacon Hills, that’s true. But not your Beacon Hills. Rather one from a timeline where you didn’t survive Donovan and Theo never went to hell.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Stiles,” Isaac grins, “I know all of my passengers' destinations. I’m just not allowed to tell you until you arrive. You almost got me though when you cried to his Whisper,” the conductor says. “Was he an Alpha in your universe?”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ eyes narrow, “is he not here?”

“No, he is,” Isaac confirms. “This is where you can choose to refuse. When this universe’s Stiles died, it nearly broke this Theo. He’s been feral ever since,” the conductor warns, “he snaps at anyone that isn’t his pack. Killed the Dread Doctors for creating Donovan in the first place and then Donovan too. He was made aware that his soulmate was coming, just not who. I don’t believe he’ll attack you, definitely not once he smells you, but…”

Theo went feral over losing him? That’s a lot to take in considering now nearly as much happened with the other version of him. Donovan attacking him was fairly early in the Dread Doctor bullshit. Unless this universe’s Stiles trusted Theo from the beginning. That the other him wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, consequences be damned.

“But?” Stiles pushes.

“He’s still feral,” Isaac says.

To be quite frank, Stiles couldn’t care less. This is viable proof that no matter the situation or fucking universe, Theo always wants him. His Theo can never be brought back. Just like this Theo’s Stiles is gone forever too. They can both get the impossible and heal together. They can have happiness.

“I can handle a feral Alpha,” Stiles scoffs, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. A loud roar splits the quiet night air and the front door is flung open. Theo, shifted and red eyed, stalks towards them, freezing when he catches sight of Stiles. “Theo,” he whispers, eyes growing cloudy.

“Theo!” Josh runs out the front door, “you can’t just- is that?” The raiju’s eyes grow comically wide, “guys, get out here!”

The Alpha snarls, running towards them.

“Are you accepting your soulmate?” Isaac asks.

He looks at the conductor with blurry vision, choking on the word, “absolutely.”

“Then this is where I leave you, Stiles,” Isaac holds out his hand, “it was a pleasure to meet you and bring you to your soulmate.”

Stiles shakes his hand, “you too, Isaac, thank you. Tell Brett goodbye and that I’ll be able to try his coffee.”

When Isaac gets back on the train, he tips his hat with a smile. As the locomotive begins to move, it takes on the same glowing blue nature of the tracks, disappearing all together. It leaves no sign that it was ever there. No smoke. No lingering scent of coal. No indents where the tracks once were.

He has barely a second to turn around before Theo slams into him with a snarl. Stiles hits the ground with a hard thud, the chimera’s fangs mere inches from his face as he roars. Theo has his claws fisted on either side of the human’s head, huffing out growled breaths. Stiles’ heart is pounding. 

“Theo stop!” Josh catches up, skidding to a halt. “It is you,” the raiju says in something akin to wonder with misty eyes. “Theo, get off of-”

“Stop,” Stiles raises his hand before the Alpha can lunge. “He needs to recognize me himself or there’s no hope of getting him back.” Like Cora and Boyd the night of their first full moon after being deprived for months. “Theo needs to do whatever he needs to do,” the human cautiously raises his wrist for the chimera to scent. “It’s okay, Kochaine,” he soothes, the name rolling off his tongue with ease. Noticing the way that with every word he says, the Alpha’s breaths slow down. 

Corey, Tracy, Mason, and Hayden join them, the former speaking, “is this real?”

Theo snarls at the additional voice, ready to attack his own pack he’s that far gone.

“Back off,” Stiles warns from underneath the Alpha. “I don’t know how long your Stiles has been gone for. Theo,” he cups the chimera’s face, “look at me,” coaxing his attention back. Theo whines when they make eye contact, “my Theo died too,” Stiles’ own eyes water. Tracy and Corey gasp at the admission. “The Soulmate Train can travel between universes and timelines,” he explains to the pack. “They gave us back what we lost,” his voice shakes, stroking the hairy face he never thought he’d see much less feel again.

“I’ll call your dad,” Hayden whispers so as not to startle the Alpha.

“No,” his fingers glide along the point of Theo’s ears, “let me bring him back to himself first. We’re lucky he’s not stuck in his full shift. Call him in the morning.” Stiles sniffles, “I missed you.”

Theo leans down, sniffing the human’s pulse before a softer rumble vibrates his chest. “Stiles,” his voice is thick, rough with who knows how long without use. The Alpha collapses on him, arms wrapping around his sides, nose scenting his neck. “Stiles,” the chimera grumbles again. Seemingly the only word he’s capable of saying right now. 

“I’m right here,” Stiles assures his soulmate. Carding his fingers through Theo’s longer hair. “Exactly how long have I been gone for?” The Alpha’s hair wasn’t but an inch long the last he’d seen him.

There’s a pregnant pause before Mason answers, “six months.”

Theo looks up at him with red eyes. He’s in there, somewhere, Stiles is sure of it. The excess hair has gone away and the chimera’s ears are back to normal, but his fangs remain. The Alpha has had to live without him for twice the amount Stiles had. His heart bleeds for him. 

“Can you hear me in there?” He returns his attention back to the task at hand. Theo grunts in response, bumping his nose against the human’s chin purposefully. Stiles will take that as much of a yes as the chimera can offer right now. “Okay,” he tilts his head back, exposing his throat for the Alpha’s needs. 

Whatever it takes to bring him back.

But then Theo’s tongue joins the scenting and Stiles shivers from the act. It slams him back into the present. Reminding Stiles that they’re very much in public. The middle of the night, yes. But in the Alpha’s front yard with his pack right next to them just the same. Not the place to be licking someone’s neck…or grinding against them. 

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles gently pats the chimera’s shoulders. He gets an annoyed grunt followed by a nip below his ear. “Kochaine,” he muses, “I was just going to ask if we could maybe go inside.”

The Alpha goes rigid above him, curious rubies searching Stiles’ face. Theo seems to find whatever he was looking for, because without further ado, the chimera climbs off of him. The moment Theo is standing, he pulls the human to his feet and promptly into a bridal carry, heading towards the door without another word. Just more growls and grabby hands. 

Stiles doesn’t object, seeing Tracy grab his fallen bag over the Alpha’s shoulder. He simply wraps his arms around his soulmate’s neck, enjoying being able to feel Theo’s warmth again. Hear his strong breaths of life coursing through the chimera. Stiles never once dreamed he’d get to be around Theo ever again. 

This couldn’t be more of a fantasy come to life. 

When they reach Theo’s room upstairs, he’s unceremoniously dropped on the bed. Stiles has barely a chance to recover before Theo is on top of him again. For the first time tonight, the Alpha says something other than his name.

“I need you,” Theo murmurs into his neck, suggestive hands squeeze his waist. Fingers pleading just as much as the Alpha’s words, “please, Stiles. Need you.”

“I’m right here,” he assures his soulmate, lifting his head to make Theo look at him. “Take what you need,” Stiles says, pulling the Alpha into a kiss. Not caring in the slightest over the way his fangs make it sloppy and uncoordinated. 

He finally has Theo and not a damn thing is going to dampen that. 

They have all the time in the world for proper kissing.

Because when it boils down to it, Stiles needs this just as much as the chimera does. When the Alpha thrusts inside of him, there isn’t a single thing that could make it better. Watching Theo come apart with his name moaned from the chimera’s lips is perfect. Because when they stop, Theo still inside of him, blue eyes blink lovingly back at him. Theo, finally back to himself once more, is smiling and brushing his fingers along Stiles’ face.

Stiles couldn’t be more happy to have gotten a ticket. 

[luulapants]

I'll do anything to not be productive today. Send me asks for unhinged overcomplicated and controversial analysis of objectively bad media pls.

//

Death in teen wolf

First of all, people out here patiently waiting for me to rediscover any love for Teen Wolf are practicing a sort of faithful devotion that apocalyptic cults would envy. You are stronger than any US Marine.

As for your question, this is a great example of why it's hard to engage Teen Wolf in any sort of genuine critical textual analysis without conflating production bullshit with authorial intent.

Because death has no textual meaning in Teen Wolf. Let's start with what I consider to be the "Engaged" era of S1-3b, after which creator involvement decreased and production went to shit.

Major deaths in this era: Kate, Peter, Mr. Lahey, Victoria, Matt, Erica, Harris, Ennis, Boyd, Kali, Jennifer, Allison, Aiden, the Nogitsune

Of these, 50% were "season villains" featured heavily through the season and killed at the end. Of the rest, two (Lahey and Harris) were minor antagonists. Of the remaining five deaths that we might actually care about, two (that we know of) were because actors wanted to leave the show, not because of narrative intent.

And, of course, we must acknowledge that over a third of them came back from the dead. Why? Because it made sense in the narrative? Or, as I suspect is the case, simply because the actor was popular and/or asked to come back.

Now look at the number of characters who "left the country." I like to think of this, sardonically, as a Teen Wolf euphemism for death the way that "going west" or "riding off into the sunset" is a euphemism for death. Isaac was sent off to a nice farm in France where he'll have lots of room to run around, you see?

When a character died vs. "left," we had about equal odds of them coming back, and those odds had nothing to do with whether their resurrection/return made sense in the TW universe or narrative and everything to do with whether the right handshakes happened off-screen. Theo came back from Literal Hell while Kira, who ostensibly went to live in a cave a day's drive from Beacon Hills, was never seen again. Stiles is such a fan favorite, he can literally never be properly written off, despite the fact that the actor is almost certainly never returning. I haven't watched the movie, but I know Derek dies at the end, probably because Tyler Hoechlin was a producer and doesn't want to return - but in this franchise, death is no escape, baybee!!

What's my point?

In the S4 deadpool plotline, one-episode characters were dying left and right. By S5 there was a literal pile of dead bodies, to the point that, by S6 when people were being disappeared from Beacon Hills, my first thought was, "How is there anyone left to take??" My point is that, for minor characters, there was no emotion or humanity in death, only plot. For major characters, there wasn't any plot either, only contract disputes and popularity surveys. Of course they killed Boyd instead of Isaac. Isaac was a pretty white boy and therefore a fan favorite. Daniel Sharman got to keep his job until the second he didn't want it (half a season later), at which point Isaac went to that farm in France, meanwhile Sinqua Walls got fired and Boyd died.

My point is that Teen Wolf was a poorly-produced scripted show by a network that had never done a scripted show before, which lived and died by market research and product placements and which had no internal stability. My point is that, in an environment like that, it is nearly impossible to create a story with a cohesive narrative intent or any thematic value, and the cast of the movie is proof that, even out from under the shadow of MTV, the story cannot recover. That cast list, I bet you anything, is identical to the list of TW actors who were still sending Jeff Davis Christmas cards at the time he closed the deal with Paramount. I loved Allison as a character, but she didn't come back from the dead because that was the story that needed to be told. She came back because Swamp Thing didn't get renewed.

Death doesn't mean anything in Teen Wolf.

[stereknation]

call it a wild card by stilinski 

Summary: "Are you done fanboying, or should I give you a few more minutes?" Erica asks, the smirk and her words clearly directed at Stiles, who's still standing and gaping, but Derek can't help but feel there's a jibe at him hidden in there somewhere, too. The words snap the guy out of his daydream - and Derek is absolutely not wondering what was going on in his head - and he clears his throat, arching an eyebrow. "Derek, I'd like you to meet your new bodyguard, Stiles Stilinski."

Rating: Teen 

Main Character(s): Derek Hale 

Additional Character(s): Erica Reyes, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, Danny Mahealani, Laura Hale, Kate Argent, Allison Argent, Vernon Boyd 

Pairing(s): Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski 

Tags: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Baseball Player Derek, Bodyguard Stiles, Slow Build, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Stiles 

Words: 18,400

Chapters: 1/1

[tabbytabbytabby]

One Last Kiss

Word Count: 589 Words

Rating: Teen and Up

Warning: Major Character Death

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Relationship: Isaac Lahey/Jackson Whittemore

Tags: Angst, Hurt Isaac Lahey, Protective Jackson Whittemore, Living Together, Blood and Injury, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Sad Ending

Summary:

Jackson never in a million years thought that they’d find them here. Not in this small ass town in the middle of France. It had seemed the perfect spot to lay low. The house was secluded, with no other houses around for miles. It had been perfect.

Except for now.

Read on AO3

For the Deathbed Confession space for @badthingshappenbingo. Card under the cut.

[sterek-ao3feed-archive]

Scavenger Hunt

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54860845 by Sivan325, SivanShemesh (Sivan325) “Hello,” Stiles answered, and Derek only chuckled, getting a feeling that his boyfriend had not even looked at his phone before he answered it. “Stiles, I need...” Derek said right away, only to be startled, hearing Stiles’s cries of pain. Then he could swear the phone hit the floor, and then there was a strange sound—a shriek, he believed—and what terrified him the most was the sound of breaking glass. Words: 1997, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Bird!Stiles, Part 7 of Sterek Bingo Card 1, Part 1 of Melting Pot Events, Part 2 of Teen Wolf Bingo card 3 Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Cora Hale, Peter Hale, Alan Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Jackson Whittemore Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Spell Failure, Side Effects, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Eagle Stiles Stilinski, The Melting Pot Tropes and Fandoms Event 2024, Bingo of Our Own, Sterek Bingo 2023 (Teen Wolf), Teen Wolf Bingo 2024, no beta we die like men read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/54860845