#Teen Wolf WIP

[teencopandthesourwolf]

If he were to be true to himself, which he generally isn't when it comes to this shit, Derek knew he was fucked the very first time he met Stiles Stilinski—no, actually, that's not entirely accurate. It was before that. He was fucked the second he smelled the kid's unique scent hitching a ride on the damp breeze that cut through Beacon Hills preserve on that fateful day, just over two years ago, when Derek stood on his family's land and tapped a claw against the plastic casing of the inhaler he'd found. The inhaler he'd sniffed out from the undergrowth in the middle of the night. The inhaler sitting inside the pocket of his dead Dad's leather jacket that he'd recovered from the ruins of his childhood home. The inhaler he'd returned the day after he played pretend with himself that it had been him who had bitten Scott McCall.

Derek has been playing pretend ever since.

But how is he supposed to pretend now, with the rogue piece of Stiles's clothing screwed up in his fist and him finally home alone in his own apartment? Worse (or better) is the fact that it's the kid's favourite beloved hoodie, the one he wears all the goddamn time which Derek can tell hasn't seen the inside of a washing machine in a while because of the way it reeks of nothing but pure, unadulterated Stiles.

Stiles's red, red hoodie.

Derek's eyes flash blue to remind him of who he is, at the same time as his fangs drop and his short nails extend into yellowed claws. Absently, he thinks of Little Red and The Big Bad Wolf when his form shifts, his resolve shattering like mirror glass as he accepts his seven years of bad luck with grace the moment he shoves his face into the fabric, now releasing that throaty groan that turns to a low growl then into a sex-hungry, shuddering snarl.

He inhales.

Deep; deeply; deeper.

And Derek is lost to Stiles, forever.

.

(from my current sterek WIP fic—let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged when it's up!)

[honestlydarkprincess]

WIP Wednesday!

tagged by @theotherbuckley, @haeva <33333

okay i've already shared this in parts through the wip game but here have a lil snippie from stiles didn't know they were dating

“I’m sorry,” Stiles rushed out, unable to take the tense silence anymore. He wanted to be eloquent, to explain himself in a way that made sense but the words burst forth before he could stop them.

Derek sighed heavily. “It’s fine. Obviously I misread things. I think it would be best if you left, though. I need— I need some time.” His voice broke at the end and Stiles felt sick.

“I can’t— not yet,” He murmured, staring at Derek. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

Derek laughed bitterly. “Yeah, there was. I thought we were dating. We weren’t. You made that quite clear this afternoon.”

“No, you don’t understand—” Stiles tried again, only to be cut off.

“I understand, Stiles,” Derek said tiredly. “I really think it would be best if you just left, okay? I’m not mad at you. I really just need some time.”

“No, I’m not leaving,” Stiles said firmly.

“Stiles—”

This time Stiles was the one to cut Derek off. “I’m in love with you!”

The silence was deafening. Stiles could almost hear the wheels turning in Derek’s head.

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @lonelychicago, @father-salmon, @underwaterninja13, @eddiebabygirldiaz

@thiamsxbitch, @hemlocksandfoxgloves, @fruchtfliege, @ksbbb

@beyourownanchor6, @rathockey, @usersiren, @holdmygum, @darrys-laundry

@shyaudacity, @vanmarkus, @devirnis, @maygrantgf, @exhuastedpigeon

[sun-spark]

Thiam WIP

Liam had been missing for four days and now, somehow, this tiny ball of golden fluff that he’d found while searching and taken to Deaton, had followed him home.

His mate was missing. He did not have time to be responsible for a trouble-magnet puppy.

[haven-of-dusk]

Fuck it Friday/Screw it Saturday/Snippet Sunday - (WIP Fragment Day of the Week)

Tagged by @mmoosen, @thiamsxbitch, @wolfboy88

(Would you look at that, I actually have a snippet from The Ones Who Remain for once...)

---

Derek’s brow furrowed, “I–I don’t…I was at school and then…” he snapped back to glaring at Isaac, “why do you want to know? Who are you? Where is my family?”

Isaac felt a hand on his shoulder as Ethan stepped past him, “Derek, your family was attacked. You were separated from the others, and we need to take you somewhere safe, now. I–” Ethan stuttered for a moment but continued, “I’m one of Deucalion’s Betas. We heard about the attack and came as fast as we could. I can explain more later, but right now we need to go before the human authorities get involved, alright?”

“Why should I trust you?” Derek barked, even as the tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen a little.

“You can listen to heartbeats, right? Tell me if I’m lying,” Ethan said calmly. Derek’s face twisted into a mask of concentration, before he stood up straight and retracted his claws.

“I’ll come with you…for now,” Derek grumbled. Isaac let out a sigh of relief. One crisis solved. Unfortunately the moment he turned around he was greeted with the sight of a police car pulling up.

Tagging any lovely person who wants to participate <3.

[kingofangst]

SEVEN SENTENCE SUNDAY

Tagged by @ksbbb and @mmoosen 😎😎💙💙

(When you draft chapters of your teen wolf series but is having a hard time posting them. This is from my WIP chapter 6 "Night School" in The Wings Of An Enigmatic.)

"Why would someone send a text to meet them at the school in an urgent manner?" Sheriff Stilinski questions, his face comically perplexed at the blasphemous words. "Beacon Hills High would be closed at this time. Plus it's the start of the weekend. It doesn't make sense."

Seraph should have foreseen this inevitable moment. Beside him, his father abruptly assumes a tense seated posture. Now faced with the challenge of articulating the precarious situation unfolding at school, he grapples with the delicate task of conveying the danger without divulging the involvement of Scott and Stiles, all while avoiding any mention of the unsettling vision shared by him and his father.

In navigating this intricate narrative, Seraph treads the fine line between transparency and discretion. The weight of unspoken truths hangs in the air, adding an ominous layer to the conversation. The challenge lies in finding a way to communicate the severity of the circumstances without betraying the clandestine nature of the events, and without offering a glimpse into the enigmatic vision that has cast a shadow over their perceptions.

"Sheriff as complicated as it seems, no one would send a message to meet them at an educational institution at such an inappropriate hour." Azrael affirms, clearing his throat. "I would under no circumstance produce false claims without having a particular hunch in knowing that something is extremely off with that approach."

Sheriff Stilinski knew how disciplined and serious the Head Councilmen of Beacon Hills is. Azrael Kingfisher is a man of honor and truth. Therefore, the Sheriff is willing to put forth hearing more of the father and son duo's hunch and what they can provide to do a search around the high school. He failed to hear his cellphone ring in the pocket of his uniform jacket hanging on the hook off the wall. The device was tucked away in the thick pocket of the fabric, it's ringing muffled under the layers. Yet, the Kingfishers, thanks to their supernatural hearing, heard it very clearly.

"Sheriff, your cellphone is ringing." The words Seraph utters out did startle the Sheriff. The law enforcement head knew that the only person who could be calling his phone would be his son, Stiles. He goes to his uniform jacket and pulls out his phone. He sees the incoming call and answers.

"Stiles, what-"

"Oh God thank you. Dad we have a problem. A serious problem and you need to get down here right now!"

Now, he has a huge feeling whatever Seraph and his father are claiming combined with the panicked voice of his son, the shouts of Scott and other voices with odd noises in the background, is linked to this.

(This is probably longer than seven sentences but it's cool. This is an AU😎😎 Seraph goes to the Sheriff station with his father to launch an immediate investigation to the school during the Alpha's attack on Scott and the others just as Stiles calls his father.)

Chapter 5 of The Wings Of An Enigmatic series will be posted on January 24th and chapter 6 in the first week of February!

No Pressure Tags: @rhyslahey @thiamsxbitch @chasing-chimeras @hemlocksandfoxgloves @arewordsenough @unsanedes @phantomraeken @amatchinwater @isaac-not-isaac @scisac @tak3me2church

[lazinesswrites]

WIP Wednesday

I had my last exam of the semester over a week ago, and next semester doesn't start for another two weeks, so I've had (and will have) plenty of time to write! And I have wanted to! Unfortunately I've had no inspiration whatsoever.

That is, until Sunday evening, while I was watching a game in the Men's Handball World Cup with my family and I thought about a Teen Wolf fic idea I've had for a while but haven't started writing yet (entirely unrelated to the Handball) and then after the game I decided to write just a couple notes for it. Before i knew it, I had two and half pages of notes, not exactly in the direction I'd meant, and it was very much past my bed time. But, hey, inspiration!

So that's what I've been working on the last couple days - at this rate, it might be done by the end of the week. No promises, but... it's on the way. Here's the first paragraph in its current iteration:

To be perfectly, one-hundred percent, entirely honest, Stiles isn’t sure how he got himself onto this mission. This team. He’s got the qualifications, for sure, but—well, he’s got the experience, anyway, but none of his superiors actually know that. After all, this is a special team, specializing in supernatural stuff, and Stiles hasn’t told anyone about the supernatural shitstorm that was his last few years in Beacon Hills; hasn’t even let anyone so much as suspect he knows anything about anything. And, honestly (wow, he’s really being super honest with himself today, huh, his therapist would be proud of him) after the whole thing with talking himself onto the team trying to catch Derek and getting caught in the crossfire – literally – and then making off with the prime suspect, Stiles had thought he’d essentially cut all ties to the FBI forever, but here he is, on mission, again, with a team he does not actually in any way have the training to be a part of. Officially, anyway. Even if he was the best in virtually all the classes he has taken.

Oh god now I need to think of a title for this thing. Dammit.

I've also been working a little bit on the continuation of Down of the Heavens (Shadowhunters, Malec, wing-fic), but that's not moving nearly as fast, and is mostly me editing the parts I've already written. Which is also important, of course, but not nearly as satisfying as seeing that word count go up.

[salty-fryingpan]

Celebrity Derek Hale being incredibly private and having absolutely no internet presence of his own just casually goes "Oh yeah my Fiancé-" on a talk show and the world fucking explodes looking for this super secret relationship with any famous woman he's ever interacted with and then they never figure it out cuz it's just some dude

[hedwig221b]

WIP Whenever

Requested by the loveliest @emmmna, here's a small bite of my sterek twilight au

Derek’s smile was light. He reached out, thoughtlessly it seemed, and pulled the string of Stiles hoodie from where it was caught under his shirt. He worried it between his fingers, then looked up.

“What?” Stiles asked with a tentative smile.

“Promise me you won’t go into the woods alone.”

Derek’s quiet and serious tone made the jokes stick in Stiles’ throat.

“Are there… other creatures?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah,” said Derek, and, just like that, the smirk was back in place. “Like, twenty mountain lions.”

“Oh, come on…” Stiles groaned.

“What did you think I was going to say? Vampires?” Derek snorted. “Beacon Hills is our territory, baby.”

“Dang it,” Stiles pursed his nose, trying to hide how much ‘baby’ affected him (very much). “There goes my dream of someone sucking my—”

Suddenly, Derek tensed. His head swiveled up, his gaze zeroing in on the road behind Stiles’ shoulder. Alarmed and mentally preparing for his dad’s interrogation, Stiles followed Derek’s gaze but saw nothing and no one.

He frowned. “Wha—”

“I gotta go,” Derek said, more annoyed than afraid. He smiled apologetically at Stiles and hopped off the porch. “I’ll text you.”

“Okay?”

Derek hesitated, staring at him with an almost pained expression.

“Fuck it,” he cursed, then flew up the porch.

Stiles froze in place, fully expecting to be kissed right this fucking second.

Hot hands cupped his neck, sending shockwaves down into his heart. Stiles stared at Derek, his eyes wide and his soul trembling in anticipation.

But Derek didn’t kiss him.

He rubbed Stiles' neck in firm, deliberate moves. If he had put just a tiny amount of his strength into the touch, he would’ve choked Stiles. Thumbs swiped over the sharp line of his jaw, then down, caressing his wildly beating veins. The heels of Derek’s palms pushed into Stiles’ clavicles and at the same time pinned him to place.

The heat filled Stiles’ cheeks, his whole face and neck. Standing in front of the predator, whose existence he couldn’t even dream about, between fight and flight, he couldn’t help but fawn.

No one held him like this. No one cared to. And if someone did, there was a big chance that Stiles would’ve fought out of the hold, swept by panic and anger.

Now, he wanted nothing more than to bare his neck.

Derek’s hands shook when he released Stiles. He swallowed thickly, then glanced at the road, cursed under his breath, and ran off the porch. This time, he didn’t return, instead jumping into his car straight away. He drove off with a squeal of the tires and disappeared around the corner.

Stiles cleared his throat, finding it coated in desert sand. He lifted his hand to rub his flaming neck, froze it halfway, clenched it into a fist, and lowered it. He didn’t want to ruin… whatever it was.

[divider source]

Tagging gently 💛 @endwersed @patolemus @renmackree @salty-fryingpan @gege-wondering-around @dear-massacre @demonicfaerie @teencopandthesourwolf @eevylynn

[suis0u]

Never thought I would actually draw him again.

[thevampiremasquerade]

so I’m working on a fic where Derek fakes his own death, Stiles is devastated and so SO heartbroken but boy do things get interesting once the truth comes out. Stiles is mad, things are being said, feelings being revealed, basically things get worse before they get better 👀 anyone interested in reading?

[teencopandthesourwolf]

so i was reading through the notes of my latest sterek WIP and honestly just belly laughed my box off at what i'd written about my Most Hated Teen Wolf Character™ and wondered if you guys might possibly find my scarily intense venom funny too:

Der remembers being furious with Laura for coming back to Beacon Hills, and that made him feel so much guilt... which then just piled up high on top of all his other guilt — for Paige, his family, FUCKING FUCK YOU KATE FUCKING ARGENT I FUCKING HATE YOU FOREVER AND EVER DIE BITCH DIE AAAAAGGGGGHHH!* (all of which eventually affected the admittedly shoddy way he'd handled his betas etc.) and everything suddenly just felt insurmountable; impossible.

*i really, really hate her, my dudes.

[honestlydarkprincess]

Several Sentences Sunday!

tagged by the lovely @eddiebabygirldiaz, @shyaudacity <33

it's late but it's still sunday where i am so! here you go!

“I have a crush on someone,” Liam blurted out. The words were leaving him before he could even think about them. And then they were just…out there. Liam couldn’t take them back.

The silence was loud and Liam closed his eyes, gusting out a sigh when Theo didn’t say anything for a minute.

“Oh,” Theo said finally, drawing the word out. “On who?”

“I’m not telling you,” Liam said, trying and failing to save some of his dignity.

“Right,” Theo said bitterly. Liam sat up and watched as Theo stood up, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder and storming out of his bedroom. “Okay then.”

“Theo, wait!” Liam said, getting off the bed and following the older boy. “Why are you mad?”

“Who said I was mad?” Theo said tonelessly, meticulously pulling his books out of his bag and piling them onto his desk.

“Uh, you’re using your asshole voice,” Liam pointed out. “You don’t use that unless you’re mad and you don’t—” Liam’s voice broke. “You don’t use that with me,” He finished quietly.

“Yeah, well, you don’t usually hide things from me,” Theo retorted, crossing his arms as he turned to face Liam.

“I just— I can’t tell you, okay?” Liam said, his voice small. He didn’t like hiding things from Theo but he wanted to preserve at least a little bit of his dignity thank you very much.

“Whatever,” Theo shrugged, his face blank. “I think I’m going to take a nap before dinner. You mind?”

“Yeah, sure,” Liam mumbled weakly, sighing as he walked out of Theo’s room and back towards his own. He flinched when he heard Theo’s door shut firmly and then he went and face planted on the bed with a groan. “You’re a fucking idiot, Dunbar.”

no pressure tagging: @bigfootsmom, @lonelychicago, @monsterrae1, @father-salmon, @underwaterninja13

@thiamsxbitch, @hemlocksandfoxgloves, @fruchtfliege, @ksbbb

[sun-spark]

Thiam WIP - Resurrected Bonds Chp. 18

Theo stared blankly ahead, ignoring the three sets of eyes watching him with concern. When he spoke his voice was flat and hollow - a dispassionate tone acting as a guardian, blocking them all from the haunted, bloodied boy shielded in carefully crafted emptiness.

“I was twelve when a second Chimera survived. He was one of many who were like siblings to me. Others were younger, too young. The doctors started keeping experiments alive for days or weeks to see what would happen, but they didn’t take care of them. I did. And every single one I was forced to kill, experiment on, or watch die before disposing of their bodies.”

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[kittenshift-17]

WIP WHENEVER

Tagged by the wonderful @demonicfaerie

“Oomph,” Stiles groaned three nights later when he was scrubbing a towel in his damp hair, shirtless and only in flannel PJ bottoms.

The breath huffed from his lungs and his back twinged a bit when he was slammed into the wall just inside the door by a pair of strong but familiar hands. Even with a towel over his head and obscuring his vision, Stiles knew it was Derek. The wolf had a thing about shoving Stiles into hard surfaces to threaten him about stuff.

“Derek,” he sighed, scraping the towel off his head so he could see the guy. “Always a pleasure. Please do break into my bedroom and manhandle me whenever it suits you. Totally not creepy and weird. Woah… hey, easy there, big guy.”

Derek was in full wolf-face, all missing eyebrows, crazy muttonchops, and fangs, his eyes glowing the crimson of the alpha spark inside him instead of their previously gleaming neon blue. He was also leaning into Stiles’s space and sniffing him powerfully.

“Shit, dude,” Stiles muttered when Derek buried his neck in Stiles’s neck, huffing his scent like it was crack cocaine. “What the hell? Are you okay? Is this another weird reaction to Wolfsbane or something? Oh, Jesus….”

Stiles gulped audibly when Derek forced his knees between Stiles’s thighs, pressing into him firmly, still sniffing him like a bloodhound.

“Why do you smell like that?” Derek rumbled into his skin, leaning in even closer and practically hugging Stiles; they were pressed so close.

“Like soap? It’s called showering, dude. Soap and shampoo and deodorant, they’re your friends, and you should use them,” Stiles babbled. “Uh, you wanna let me go there, sourwolf? This is pushing past the PG rating…”

Derek ignored him and kept sniffing, almost wilting into him a little bit when he nosed along Stiles’s bare collarbone and down the length of his sternum, bending at the knees to keep sniffing.

“Oh, God,” Stiles muttered, tipping his head back because he was only human, okay.

Stiles was human and a horny teenage boy, and the guy solely responsible for his sexuality crisis was pushing all up on him, and Stiles couldn’t be held accountable for what was happening in his pants, okay? It wasn’t his fault Derek happened to be incredibly hot. He was a complete asshole, possibly a murdering psychopath – actually, scratch that; he was definitely a murderous psychopath; see Exhibit A, the slashed open throat of his own uncle. But an incredibly hot murdering psychopathic asshole, nonetheless.

“Shouldn’t be possible,” Derek mumbled into Stiles’s chest before lifting his head and peering into Stiles’s face.

The alpha looked a little dazed, his pupils blown so wide they almost swallowed the crimson alpha glow.

“What shouldn’t be?” Stiles asked hoarsely, hoping Derek wasn’t about to kill Stiles for getting an awkward boner right now.

“You smell like…”

“Apple pie?” Stiles guessed. “Scott says I smell like apple pie.”

Derek shook his head, leaning in closer and dragging his nose along Stiles’s hairline across his forehead. Dude, unsanitary.

“Pack,” Derek murmured. “You smell like pack.”

“Like Isaac, you mean?” Stiles guessed. “Because your little beta has been pretty much surgically attached to my hip since the full moon. I’m still pretty sure it’s because he wants to eat me and is just waiting for the opportune moment.”

“Not like Isaac,” Derek muttered, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek might’ve just kissed his forehead as he took another slow, deep breath in through his nose.

His grip on Stiles softened, easing into something gentler, and Stiles blinked in confusion.

“Dude, are you okay?” Stiles asked quietly.

Derek didn’t move for a few more minutes, holding him captive quite gently and just breathing in the scent of him. He didn’t answer any of Stiles’s questions either, which, rude.

“Can we at least sit down or something?” Stiles asked, his feet beginning to itch from standing like he was.

Derek pulled away. His pupils were still blown, but his usual scowly aggression was missing from his face. Stiles searched his expression in confusion. Was this what it looked like before an alpha werewolf snapped their bolt and went on a killing spree? Was Derek going to eat him?

“Um… you wanna watch a movie or something?” Stiles offered. “Wait, were you here for a reason? Do you need me to research something?”

Derek just crossed to Stiles’s bed in silence, shrugging out of his leather jacket, boots, and jeans, much to Stiles’s growing mortification. Stiles looked on, slack-jawed, when Derek – now in just a grey t-shirt and a pair of black briefs – peeled open the covers on Stiles’s bed and climbed between the sheets.

“Oh my god, is this a dream?” Stiles muttered. “Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming.”

He started counting his fingers as he trailed, bewildered, to the edge of the bed where Derek had buried his face in Stiles’s pillow and had begun to….

Stiles’s eyes slowly widened when the werewolf began to nuzzle all around, rubbing his cheeks into the fabric, his nose, his forehead, and then dropping to…

“Are you… rolling in my scent?” Stiles breathed softly. “Like a dog does when they find something they think smells good?”

Derek didn’t answer, but he didn’t really have to. He was literally rolling around in Stiles’s scent, stopping only long enough to yank his shirt off over his head so he was rubbing bare skin into the scent of Stiles clinging to the sheets and pillows. He was even making little canine noises of contentment, and Stiles was completely freaked out. Didn’t dogs roll in the scents of creatures they were planning to hunt? He was sure he’d read that canines rolled in the scents of their prey to mask their own predatory scent to better hunt down and devour innocent prey.

Oh, God. That meant Stiles was prey.

Derek was going to eat him.

[patolemus]

🐺 🐺 🐺

Oooooh I haven't talked about this one in a while, but basically it's about how canon would look like if Scott had died from the bite instead of turning, making his death Stiles' introduction into the supernatural. Now, he's looking for the thing that killed his best friend so he can kill it.

With that little intro, here's those three sentences!

It starts, like all things in goddamned Beacon Hills, with a body in the woods. Well, half a body.

Stiles, always more curious than it’s healthy, and way too impulsive, hears his dad talking on the phone with one of his deputies about a body and immediately decides he has to go look for it. And of course, he drags his best friend with him.

It ends in tears, a funeral, and a promise of revenge so deep it bleeds his ledger red in advance, so deep Stiles knows it won’t ever leave him.