#actually finished s2e2 when i saw this ask
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what are some of your favorite moments where sanji just gets screwed over (like the hgeegh bit)
I'm not sure if that's like. Getting screwed over so much as just being made fun of for saying silly things. That said I do think his bit where he just starts talking in wing dings (here) is incredibly funny and given the fact that it has been one of my most popular posts this month I think most of you can agree with that. I do in general think the zoro and sanji dynamic is incredibly funny even if I'm just skimming for sanjis I'll keep an eye out for them for a giggle.
#asks#anonymous#not sanji#i say that last part as if i dont have z0san blacklisted. i dont like them romantically#theyre just funny to me. literally antagonistic to each other for fun to the detriment of everybody around them#i love when zoro goes out of his way to rile up sanji which is. just about every time it happens#he's so teaseable its so easy to get under his skin like that#also since i'm already rambling in the tags i started watching high card recently#actually finished s2e2 when i saw this ask#hoping to get to s2e4 today if not more#<- guy who binged literally 10 episodes of it yesterday#uhm. if there are any high card fans following me... hmu i'm so obsessed with this series now#(not that. the enstars hyperfixation is going away thats still going strong#and ironically i started watching high card bc a friend mentioned an alkakurei high card au and i went oooo sounds neat)#but yeah. i need a vijay focused episode yesterday please and thankies.#but otherwise very solid series i think most of you would like it if you like one piece for the action sequences#characters are pretty well written too. chris...#someone on discord compared the cards to op devil fruits but if you could take them away and like. kinda?#the card chooses you but you have to activate it in play to like. use it#not entirely like a fruit that you eat and it becomes a part of you whether you like it or not#but anyway. watch high card#thats too many tags goodbye
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TAG 9 PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER
favourite colour(s): usually greens, blues, greys
favourite flavour(s): garlic / onion for savoury; matcha or cookies and cream for sweet
favourite genre(s): i’m a sucker for historical fiction, even if the work is terribly full of anachronisms (sometimes that’s what makes it more fun). mysteries and thrillers are my bread and butter, but just between you and me— i’ll give almost anything a chance. if i were a cat, my curiosity would’ve taken me for good ages ago lol
favourite music: depends on what i’m doing! i’m that person who never takes the aux cord and shuffles the entire library bc the emotional whiplash would be too real. old school r&b one minute, hard rock the next... some orchestral score ten minutes late
favourite movie(s): i almost always say the empire strikes back (1980) as a way of signaling the general star wars nerdery. other go-to answers are jurassic park (1993) and hero (2002)
favourite series: y’know, now that i think about it, i can’t name more than five series that i’ve actually watched from start to finish. picking from that list (it doesn’t seem right to choose otherwise) i’d go with... the santa clarita diet. i wanna rewatch avatar: the last airbender, though
last song: the last thing that played on my run yesterday was... criminal - taemin
last series: i finished the first half of abbot elementary s2 and am waiting for the rest of the episodes to come out because i just know i won’t be able to resist binging them all in one sitting.
last movie: everything everywhere all at once (i shed a single manly tear)
currently reading: the firekeeper’s daughter - angeline boulley
currently watching: how’d you know my tv is on? i’m 10 mins into only murders in the building s2e2. don’t ask me when i’ll finish it, not bc i don’t like it, but bc my attention span isn’t it atm
currently working on: at this very moment, lol, i’m attempting to figure out how to answer the “favourite series” part of this questionnaire. i always get stuck on that sort of thing! outside of that, just getting by day-to-day, man
tagged by: @bourbcnchoices ; thanks for the tag! pls also take this as me liking your original post, which i couldn’t do since this is a side blog... tagging: @erstwhles (i saw that you’ve already done this so i’m actually tagging per your post’s ending blurb); @rcguereveries (bc of scd + “not-benny” + i believe you still need to show me mamma mia 2); @badiiidea (so you know why i’m still awake); @wingsandahalo (i’ve been meaning to get back on here more consistently and think of writing w/ you often); @inexorcble (it’s fun typing your url bc of that c in the middle, so here i am having fun); and in the spirit of oprah, if you just so happen to be reading this mess of a post, ‘you get a tag! you get a tag!’
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GROAN COMPILATION
s1e1 05:55 - Daniel: what does it cost, this haven't-aged-in-half-a-century, killer-views-in- all-directions anonymity? 09:27 - Daniel: I'm in the penthouse apartment of the Al Sharaf Towers across from Mister… as armand leaves 50:00 - Louis: That was the last sunrise I ever saw. Perhaps the kindest thing the dark gift has given me. as armand enters
s1e2 01:17 - Armand: It's Venetian. daniel looking at marius painting 01:39 - Daniel: Do you hear that? 13:09 - Daniel: Coming out? this may not actually be a groan the mic quality is not as great in this scene 14:18 - Daniel: Back to the salesman for a sec. as the fox is revealed this may not actually be a groan 14:45 - Louis: Mmm. as he eats the fox 32:16 - Louis: Hello, Damek. as he drinks from damek 45:45 - Louis: There was an offhanded remark in your memoir about this dessert. I hope you don't mind. as they eat
s1e3 26:34 - Daniel: The odyssey of recollection. as they talk about the rain, before armand exits
s1e4 none
s1e5 03:14 - Louis: Rashid is an opinionated young man. He lives to share these opinions, even when they are not solicited. 04:05 - Daniel: Refill. as armand leaves 20:37 - Louis: Keep reading. this may not actually be a groan 30:34 - Armand: Mr. du Lac would like to apologize and continue with the interview, if you are in… as daniel slaps louis
s1e6 03:16 - Armand: He's officially off the record. as the doctor leaves 45:15 - Armand: You go ahead, have your fun. as daniel wakes up
s1e7 06:38 - Daniel: Cold, calculating, on mission. as armand leaves 43:54 - Daniel: You torched Antoinette, just to make sure. 44:55 - Armand: This session is over. this may not actually be a groan 46:32 - Louis: Not exactly. as armand starts flying this may not actually be a groan
s2e1 48:33 - Armand: I'll have Rashid assemble the pages removed. as armand dims the lights 47:24 - Armand: Like everything we've done for the past 70 years.
s2e2 10:15 - Daniel: I leave before the bill is paid, I never finish the novel. 12:49 - Daniel: Makes it more likely you'll rip a page in the item being examined. 33:34 - Armand: In a community as small as ours, such crossings of immortal paths is expected, perhaps more common than you would think. 42:04 - Daniel: She said no.
s2e3 05:42 - Armand: We should probably wait for him. 20:37 - Louis: When he went to open the theater the next night, he was met by the lawyer, Pierre Roget I. 41:13 - Louis: The lawyer?
s2e4 13:21 - Daniel: The vampire bond. as he opens the article on the fire 25:38 - Louis: I was an adequate photographer. as he slams the photo case closed 49:03 - Louis: You think I need to be coddled, hyped up, lied to?
s2e5 02:54 - Louis: What did you want to grab, Daniel? 05:07 - Daniel: Someone half in love with an easeful death. as the door closes 14:57 - Louis: What's the next thing you remember? 19:55 - Louis: Daniel? as daniel opens the interview file 20:13 - Daniel: A curveball which seem like less of a surprise, and more like an ambush. 29:31 - Daniel: I don't remember, I… That's why I'm asking.
but the groan has gotta symbolise something right.
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C-137 Vs. 46'\
C-137 Vs. 46'\ = A Gravity Falls & Rick and Morty crossover fic for @stephreynaart! I meant to finish this, like, forever ago, but I did my best and decided this has stayed hidden in my files long enough. I hope y’all enjoy it!
Stanchez for life!!!
~~~~~~~~~~
Episode Placement: GF = after the finale (season 3) R&M = Between S1E10 and E11 (In S2E2, Rick dates 1/12/2015 on the drop-off papers for Jerry. Though Alex hates dating cartoons, it can be estimated that GF took place during 2013 thanks to Sev'ral Timez, so the next summer would be 2014. So… yeah. I put way too much thought into this.)
The vast galaxy in front of them was an endless sea of stars and space-clouds of many different colors. Some were green, some were blue, some were magenta, it honestly looked like a generic Hot Topic galaxy t-shirt.
But Rick didn’t give a shit about some fucking space-clouds or some fucking shop for teenagers who were trying too hard to be goth. Rick didn’t give a shit about the fact that Morty barely knew how to drive the fucking spaceship. Rick only have a shit about getting away from the other fucking spaceships that were after the humans, but he couldn’t drive because Rick had to repair the fucking weapon to kill those fucking bastards. Fuck.
“Aw, geez, Rick, hurry it up!” Morty yelled.
“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Morty!” Rick snapped back as he tinkered with the huge ray-gun that laid by his feet.
The spacecraft jolted to the side as a beam just barely missed it. Rick caught his screwdriver as it flew in the air for a second and he finished the final turn. Rick grinned maliciously and aimed the newest invention out at the enemy. He pulled the trigger and rather than a beam of light or a bullet escaping the gun, it appeared that nothing happened, until each spaceship seemed to be covered with blood and guts from the inside, covering the windows and halting the enemies’ spaceships.
“Oh my God, Rick, what the hell?!” Morty screamed.
“Relax, Morty, you’ve seen worse. It’s just a gun that released microscopic ninjas that slice people up from the inside until they’re nothing b-b-but guts.” Rick burped through the alcohol and leaned on the big gun proudly with a monotone voice and facial expression.
“No, Rick, what the hell IS THAT?!”
Rick looked ahead to see a wormhole of pink, blues, and whites glowing brightly in front of them. Morty was trying to turn the spaceship away, but they were being pulled in by gravity.
“Well, fuck.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Mabel was bouncing like she had springs on the bottoms of her shoes as she held her Grunkle Ford’s hand. They were both wearing ponchos and on their way to the magical part of the forest. Mabel, Dipper, Stan, and Ford had only been back in Gravity Falls for two days and Ford wanted to start off this summer right by bonding with his favorite grandniece in the Multiverse.
Ford felt guilty of the little time they had spent together the previous summer. True, he had arrived home a little late in the season, but he had spent plenty of time bonding with Dipper, leaving not nearly enough for Mabel. Ford loved her very much, but with Dipper things were more predictable. The boy was a lot like him, so Ford knew what to expect and how to bond with him, like playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or working or investigating an anomaly together. Ford had no clue what twelve… thirteen-year-old girls liked and Mabel’s overwhelming flood of love and affection had startled Ford like an old alley-cat.
Still, he admired her positivity and loved to do arts-and-crafts with her. They had captured time last summer for her to make a beautiful hand-turkey on Ford’s six-fingered hand; she had said that the extra feather made it special. The old scientist had no idea what he had done to deserve Mabel… no, he didn’t deserve Mabel, but she seemed to like him, so he owed her some alone-time. Mabel seemed to like the supernatural almost as much as Dipper (Dipper took a more serious approach to it while Mabel seemed to accept everything with loving arms), so Ford offered to take her out to the magical part of the forest over breakfast and Mabel nearly choked on her Stan-cake out of pure joy.
Now, as the morning sun rose and was nearly above their heads, after about an hour of traveling and quietly talking, they were starting to reach the magical part of the forest.
“So, why do we need ponchos, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked as she used her free-hand to play with the yellow hood that was over her beautiful brown hair.
“Because the fairies we’re going to investigate are… rather messy.” Ford landed on. The Barf Fairies used to turn his stomach, but after traveling through dimensions for over thirty years, Ford’s stomach had hardened and since Mabel also seemed to have a strong gag-reflex, he decided that he would try to learn more about the less-than-pleasant type of fairies. “I would hate for them to ruin a Mabel Pines original.” Ford added with a smile down at the young teenager.
Mabel grinned braces-free (she had them removed back in February) up at the old scientist, loving it when he called one of her sweaters a Mabel Pines original, and her eyes twinkled when she saw the blue sweater through Ford’s poncho, the one she had made for him with a golden six-fingered hand on the front, like his old journals. “So, these are…”
“Barf Fairies.”
“Right. What do you already know about them?”
“Only that we should avoid whatever they eat.”
Mabel laughed along with him and said, “Okay. Well… I’ve actually never talked to or met a fairy before, so looks like we’re both starting from square-one. Did you meet any fairies out in the Multiverse?”
“Yes, but they were very different than the one here in Gravity Falls. I once landed in a dimension where the seasons changing was caused by the fairies, and in another dimension I met a giant fairy-queen that looked more like a slug with wings covered in glitter.”
Mabel opened her mouth to contribute to the conversation, but they both heard a noise and stopped walking in the woods. The sound had made them think of clanking metal and yells. They looked up and around at the trees, but a little puff of smoke confirmed that they had heard some sort of machine.
“What was that?” Mabel asked quietly.
“I’m not sure.” Ford said honestly and started to walk them to a clearing.
The two Pines left the cluster of pinetrees so they could look around the skies more clearly. It was a beautiful cloudless early-summer day. As they looked up at the heavens above, a flying-disk of a spaceship was whizzing over their heads, having trouble staying up in the air. Ford held Mabel close in fear of it crashing down near them, but the spaceship staggered over the woods and crashed landed from a safe distance.
“Aliens!” Mabel gasped. “Dipper told me about the one under the town! Do you think this is like that one?”
Ford, whose mind was racing, shook his head to try to think straight, and he said, “No, I… I think I know what it is, but… Mabel, I’m afraid the Barf Fairies are going to have to wait.”
Mabel peeled off her poncho and shook her hair free, revealing her purple sweater with a heart and sunglasses on it that matched her red skirt and headband. Ford also took off his poncho, pocketed both of the big yellow articles of clothing in his trenchcoat, but then pulled out his gun. He opened his mouth to tell Mabel to stay close, but she already pulled out her grappling hook and was standing behind Ford, waiting for him to lead the way.
Ford crept back into the woods with Mabel behind him. He had a good idea of what had crashed into Gravity Falls, but he had hoped that he was wrong. He didn’t want Mabel to meet him. Ford was hoping he would never show up in this dimension, but if he was still traveling around the Multiverse…
A low hissing noise from a busted engine told Ford and Mabel where to go. They only had to walk a minute before the spaceship came into view, landing in between two trees and leaving a trail of up-turned dirt in its path before coming to a halt. Ford and Mabel slowly moved towards the ship with their weapons in hand, but they found it unnecessary as a boy stumbled out and coughed into a fist, on his hands and knees and ruffled from the crash.
“Oh geez, oh man, we’re dead. We’re dead. We survived, but we’re dead.” The boy moaned as he slowly stood up. He looked about Mabel’s age, had short brown hair, and wore jeans and a yellow t-shirt with white sneakers.
Mabel pocketed her grappling hook while Ford let his arms fall to his side, but he kept the weapon in hand, just in case. “Huh. That was… not what I was expecting.” Ford said, more to himself than to Mabel.
Mabel stepped forward with her hands up kindly and she cleared her throat, gaining the boy’s attention. He blinked at the two humans and Mabel said in a soft voice, “Uh, hi, I’m Mabel. Are you hurt?”
“What?” The boy asked. He seemed jittery from the crash, his eyes darting and his forehead glistening with sweat. “Uh, n-no. No, I’m fine. I’m…”
“MORTY!”
The boy groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he tilted his head upward. “Yup, that’s my name. Morty.”
An older man in a white lab-coat with blue-white hair stumbled out of the spaceship, and not out of drunkenness for a change. “Morty, you little…”
“Sanchez.” Ford growled and covered Mable’s ears. He knew this guy had a foul tongue, and while Ford and his brother might have sailors’ mouths, at least he and Stan knew to censor themselves around the kids. Ford’s old friend didn’t.
The old man in the lab-coat looked at Ford and his eyes widened in shock before he grinned. “Oh, no way! Good to see you again, Fordsie!” He laughed, amused by the scenario in front of him. “Great, another genius. Mind giving me a hand with this piece of… erm, crap?”
Ford groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, the sooner I can get you out of my home dimension, the better.”
The man Grunkle Ford had called Sanchez appeared shocked again and he dug around his coat. “Wait, wait, wait. Your home dimension?” Sanchez pulled out a white flat gun with a green bulb on top and he seemed to be reading off a tiny screen. “Huh. Dimension 46’\. This one’s way out of the loop. There’s no way I could’ve gotten you home with this thing. How did you manage to pull that off?”
“Long story.” Ford said and pocketed his hand in his trenchcoat.
“Grunkle Ford,” Mabel piped and smiled up at the visitor. “Who’s this?”
Ford looked down at his niece and decided to share this piece of his thirty-year-long journey in the Multiverse with her. “Sweetie, this is my old acquaintance, Rick Sanchez. Rick, this is my great-niece, my brother Sherman’s granddaughter, Mabel.”
“Oh, hey, nice to meet you, little lady.” Rick said with a small smile and then jabbed a thumb back at Morty. “That little screw-up is my grandson, Morty.”
“Oh, yeah, like you could do any better, Rick.” Morty huffed with crossed-arms over his thin chest.
“I could do better, Morty,” Rick said and rounded on his grandson. “You know what else I can do? I can also leave you behind on Asteroid 3924987, but I won’t. I can also feed you to a five-headed mega-bird from Bird-Person’s homeworld, but I won’t. I can also send you to the citadel and trade you in for a new Morty, but I won’t, as long as you quit being a pain in the ass.”
“Rick, please!” Ford hissed.
“It’s okay, Grunkle Ford, I heard worse when I went to get a snack and Stan was watching football.” Mabel giggled, remembering the other night when Stan’s team was losing and he let out a long stream of colorful swears that made him turn red when he realized Mabel had heard him.
“Of course you have.” Ford groaned and shook his head. “Well, let’s see what the damage is, Sanchez. What caused the crash? Did your micro-verse battery finally start a rebellion?”
“No, because they know if they do, I’ll get a new battery, Genius. When we came to this dimension through a wormhole we hit a mountain side and a part broke off here…”
The two old men examined the spacecraft and were discussing ways to fix it, meanwhile Morty walked up to Mabel and rubbed an arm nervously. “So, uh… I guess they met out in the Multiverse, huh?”
Mabel nodded; she didn’t know how these two old men knew each other or why these two humans were in a spaceship, but based on context clues, Morty’s guess made the most sense. “Wait, so you two are from another dimension?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Morty said with a shrug. “This is 46'\, right? My dimension is C-137.”
“Wow, cool!” Mabel said with shining eyes that threw Morty for a loop. “So, what’s different over there? Was Benjamin Franklin a man and never accomplished anything? Are dinosaurs still alive? Oo! I bet your sky is lavender-purple all the time, right?!”
Morty laughed a little and rubbed his arm again. “Uh, no. It’s, I think, pretty much the same as yours. My Grandpa Rick says there’s an infinite number of realities that are just slightly different from one another. M-M-Maybe the difference between C-137 and 46'\ is so small and unimportant it’s not obvious.”
“Oh, okay,” Mabel peered over to watch Rick and Ford work together for a little bit and then she smiled back at Morty. “So, do you always go on adventures with your Grandpa Rick?”
Morty sighed in a shaky puberty-voice and nodded. “Yeah, he’s always making me go on these stupid adventures with him.”
“What?” Mabel gasped with a smile. “They’re not stupid! I’d love to go to a different dimension with my Grunkle Ford! I’ve already been on one with him and Grunkle Stan when they had to rescue me from Dimension Mab3L. The other mes were a little self-centered, but it was a lot of fun to punch myself in the face and rescue my great-uncles.”
“Yeah, but from the sounds of it, your - what did you say, Grunkle Ford? - is nice to you.” Morty pointed out. “My Grandpa Rick treats me like garbage all the time, but then again he treats everyone like garbage, so at least he’s only signaling me out to stay hidden from the Federation or whatever.”
“Oh.” Mabel said quietly and held her hands behind her back bashfully, unsure of how to respond, but she decided to try to make Morty feel better. “Well, my other great-uncle, Grunkle Stan, is a little tough sometimes, but that’s only because he cares about his family and is toughening us up for a tougher world. He’s my hero!”
“That sounds nice.” Morty said with a small smile. He didn’t think Rick cared about his family like this Stan guy, but Morty wasn’t in the mood to kill Mabel’s optimism. “I like your sweater, by the way.”
“Thanks!” Mabel grinned proudly. “I made it!”
Morty’s eyes widened. “Wow, really?” Mabel held out her arm so Morty could feel her sleeve. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! You’re really talented.”
“Hey, thanks! If you want, I can make you one!”
“R-R-Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Sure! What’s your favorite color?”
“Uh… y-yellow.”
“Got it!”
Ford and Rick walked up to the teenagers and the six-fingered researcher said, “Well, I’m afraid the ship lost a part we need, but luckily I have the materials we need to build one in the lab back home.”
“Great!” Mabel said and grinned. “Let’s go! So, how did you two meet, anyway?”
Ford and Mabel led the way with Rick and Morty closely behind. “We met about twenty years ago in a high-security prison. I remember feeling relieved to see another human. I had been without human contact for a little under two years at the time since I had been stranded on some desert planet.”
“Yeah, this nerd got into big trouble for the extinction of a few million species on Planet 8824816.”
“What?!” Mabel gasped and looked up at her great-uncle, unable to believe that he would cause such mass genocide. “Grunkle Ford, you didn’t?!”
“Of course I didn’t, Mabel.” Ford quickly reassured his niece. “That was the planet I thought was a sandwich. Anyway, at least I didn’t do what Rick was in for…”
“What did he do?”
“I purposely caused mass genocide on Sector 56, Dimension “”113.” Rick said in a scaringly monotone voice.
“What?!”
“Rick!” Ford and Morty both scolded at the same time.
“Hey, it was either me or the Valakawns!” Rick snapped back. “Those bloodsucking leeches didn’t see what hit them, until the Federation caught me hanging from a tree upside-down, passed out and drunk.”
“Alright, enough!” Ford said firmly. “Let’s just build the part we need so we can get you two back to your home dimension. And, Mabel, once they’re gone we’re going to patch the wormhole with alien adhesive.”
“Okay. Last thing we want is for Dipper to get stuck in Dimension Dipp-3R or something.”
“Who’s Dipper?” Morty asked quietly.
“My twin brother!”
“Oh, cool! I don’t have a twin, but I have met multiple versions of myself.”
“Hey, me too! I’ve met Table-Mabel, Explainble, Threebel, Military-Expert-Mabel, Brainbel, T-Rex-Mabel, Fire-Mabel, and even Anti-Mabel!”
“I’ve met an Evil-Morty with one eye-patch who worked for the worst Rick in the Multiverse. I’ve also… Well, let’s just say I’ve met a lot of mes.”
The two teenagers talked while the two old men chatted on ways to fix the ship as they got closer to the Mystery Shack. Rick looked up and down the place and then snorted, amused. “Huh. Not the kind of place I’d expect from Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud over here.”
“My brother had to make some… changes in order to pay off the mortgage.” Ford explained and led the way to the back door. He opened it and said, “My lab is downstairs behind the vending machine in the gift shop. I believe Soos is giving a tour, so it should be safe to enter.”
“Gift shop?” Rick laughed and poked Ford’s shoulder. “When did you get so soft?”
“I am not< soft.” Ford said dignified.
“You’re wearing a blue sweater with a gold six-fingered hand.”
“My niece made it for me!” Ford said proudly and puffed out his chest.
Mabel rolled her eyes with blushing chubby cheeks and a smile and decided to let the old guys fight. She took Morty’s hand and said, “Come on! I’ll show you my room! I have a huge sticker collection you’ll love!”
“Oh, okay!” Morty said and allowed her to drag her up to the attic; it was nice being dragged to something nice and safe rather than some new monster of a different dimension.
“But hey, you turned your lab into a gift shop.” Rick was saying while the teenagers did their own thing. “Least you’re making a profit.” Ford wasn’t sure if Rick was being sincere or not.
“Actually, it’s all my brother’s.” Ford said and waved the subject away. “We’re getting off track. Let's just get you and your grandson out of my dimension.”
“Geez, you used to be way more fun.” Rick said with sagged shoulders. “What happened to the guy who ranked up million on Lottocron Nine and got tattoos with octopus-armed piglets? What happened to the interdimensional criminal who once shot fifty Bureaucrats to save a fellow scientist’s ass?”
“He discovered what was most important, Sanchez.” Ford growled with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Oh, HO!” A voice laughed as he shook his head and left the kitchen. “I know this guy isn’t talking about Mr. Goody-Nerds-Shoes!”
Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted was for his twin and his old friend to meet, but it seemed like some greater being(s) really wanted this to happen, so here we go.
Rick grinned at the sight of a conman in his suit and fez, with a can in his hand, instantly giving Rick the vibe that this guy couldn’t be trusted but would be a hit at parties and wasn’t a total snitch. “Now THIS is what I’m talking about! Name’s Rick, Ford Two.”
Stan barked a laugh and shook his hand. “The name’s Stan, Genius. And please for the love of Moses you weren’t just talking about my brother?”
“Are you kidding, this guy was a total badass!” Rick jabbed a thumb back at the fuming scientist. “He was a total idiot, had no clue how the Multiverse worked, but he was always willing to barrel into whatever crap was out there and destroy some shit!”
“Okay, you and I need to talk.” Stan tossed him the can of soda and went into the kitchen to get some snacks. “I wanna hear more about what kind of crazy violent nomad Ford was back in the day!”
“You got it! Just tell me how the hell he ended up with a cool twin? What, did you inherit all the fun traits leaving him with hobbies like collecting alien stamps?”
Stan barked a laugh and was back, looping an arm around his skinny neck. “I love this guy! Now, please tell me you were there when he got his stupid tattoo.”
“Stanley,” Ford scolded. “We’re supposed to be working on building the part he needs so he can go home. Rick and his grandson are stranded here…”
“Please, I can make that piece of shit from scratch in my sleep.” Rick said. “And Morty’s fine. That niece of yours will keep his small brain entertained for hours.” He turned to Stan and asked, “You got any booze, we had a rough crash here and I need a drink.”
“I got a secret stash in my room,” Stan muttered. “I don’t like drinking with the kids here, but I guess you can have a shot of whisky to relax. Want some soda?”
“Sure, why not. There’s a bit in my flask to last.”
And the old men walked away for the ‘Employees Only’ part of the house, leaving Ford to grit his teeth in annoyance and then bite his lip in discomfort. This could only end one way and he was not looking forward to it.
To be continued...
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So Close - S.S. XXIII
Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.
Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 - S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11 Part 13 - S3AE11 + S3AE12 Part 14 Part 15 - S3BE1 + S3BE2 Part 16 - S3BE3 + S3BE4 Part 17 - S3BE5 + S3BE6 Part 18 - S3BE7 + S3BE8 + S3BE9 Part 19 - S3BE10 + S3BE11 Part 20 - S3BE11 + S3BE12 Part 21 Part 22 - S4E1 + S4E2 Part 23 - S4E3 + S4E4
Word-count: 4.9k+
A/N: hope you enjoy it guys!! :)
“So,” he said as he slipped into the seat across from you, sliding your coffee over the table.
“So,” you repeated, wrapping your hands around the mug. Another beat of awkward silence passed and you sighed and shifted in your chair. “Stiles, I thought we were here to talk?”
“Well, yeah, but I- I figured you’d want to go first,” he stammered as he recovered from a too-hot mouthful of hot chocolate. He added between blowing on his drink, “You know, maybe yell at me a little. The yelling is better than the silence.”
“I figured you chose the most public coffee house in all of Beacon Hills so I wouldn’t yell at you,” you said with a small smile. He looked ridiculous trying to suffer his way through that drink.
“Well, I mean, I chose it so you wouldn’t kick my ass,” Stiles said before taking another sip and scrunching up his face again. “Jesus, what they use to make this? Liquid lava? I-”
“Here,” you said as you reached over and took the mug from him. You started stirring it, letting the steam swirl around, as you spoke, “I want you to explain before I say anything else, okay? Because I- I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I just … can’t wrap my head around it. There’s a lot that I don’t understand but why didn’t you - didn’t anyone - tell me that you weren’t actually dating Malia?”
“I wanted us to talk before anyone else - namely Lydia - got involved,” he said. He was looking for something to fidget with since you had his drink, and seemed to settle on destroying a sugar packet. “But, uh, every time I tried to talk to you, you just shut me down. So then I talked to Isaac about it and he said-”
“You talked to Isaac about us?” you asked, momentarily stopping your stirring. “When?”
“Before we left for Mexico. He, uh, threatened to kill me a few times but he actually gave some pretty solid advice,” Stiles said as he nodded to himself. When you didn’t answer he kept going, “He said to let you cool off. You’d talk about when you were ready.”
“Kind of surprised you didn’t figure that one out yourself,” you hummed as you leaned down to sip the hot chocolate. Still warm but not too hot. “Try this?”
As you slid the mug back to him, his hands met yours, and as cheesy as it sounded everything went still for a second. His thanks hung in the air between you like a secret. And then someone dinged the bell in the front of the store and all the noise flooded back in.
“Anyway, I, uh-” putting the sugar packet to the side, he took a sip of his drink. This time he didn’t burn his mouth. “I thought a lot about what I would say to explain all this when we did finally talk but now we’re here and I … have no freaking clue.”
You smiled. At least you still made him nervous.
“So I’ll start at the beginning,” he sighed. “We had all these plans and you kissed me and I thought it’d never get better than that. But then, uh, you kinda stabbed me. Like twice. And-”
“Stiles, that wasn’t you,” you interrupted. “You know I’d never hurt you.”
“I know that now but I- he was in my head. And he made me think you hated us- me. That you hated me.” If he didn’t correct it so quickly, you’d never have noticed his slip. Us. “And I thought I was dying, and my sense of self-preservation is, like, non-existent. I just didn’t want to die alone.”
He looked up at you but you didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought. Something in your face must have conveyed that because he went on.
“And then Malia showed up,” he said carefully. “I’ve been reading up on this and coyotes are more solitary animals. So I think she just … confused me not being a threat with something else. I don’t think she’s ever had a friend before.”
“But she kissed you in Mexico,” you said. “After everything else happened.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’ve talked to her about it. Like a billion times,” he said. “I think she got it this time; she says she’s not gonna do it again. Besides, apparently, the kiss didn’t even really help her focus because all she could think about was the sandwich I had for lunch so, you know, that made me feel great about myself and … And I’m rambling again.”
“Little bit,” you smiled. It felt less tense now that you were actually talking about everything. “But it’s cute.”
His eyes widened and his grip on his mug faltered slightly. “You, uh- ah, crap!” He spilled all over the table and scurried to get napkins to clean it up. Resting his arms on a pile of soaked napkins he asked, “You think I’m cute?”
You laughed and reached up a hand to push him back to his side of the table. “I guess it’s my turn to talk now, huh?” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your mug. “I shouldn’t have left that night. It wasn’t very ‘no matter what’ of me.”
Now Stiles got to be the one giving small smiles from the other side of the table and not interrupt. It sucked.
“But it hurt. A lot,” you said. “Stiles, I’ve had a crush on you basically since we met. And I’ve had to watch you have crushes on literally every girl in Beacon Hills except for me. I didn’t mind so much because I knew you had no clue how I felt, but then you did. Pretty explicitly. And then you kissed Lydia, and Heather, and that girl from the rave. And then you slept with Malia - which, I know you just explained, but I’m still wrapping my head around that one.”
He didn’t say anything and you sighed.
“It just wasn’t something I wanted to deal with after everything else that happened that night,” you finished. “So I left, but I thought you’d come after me.”
“You kinda stole my car,” he said, squinting slightly.
“Not literally come after me. Metaphorically,” you said. It reminded you of arguing with Kira in the junk food aisle and you laughed slightly before taking a breath and calming down. “I just think we could have handled it better, you know?”
“Yeah, but I mean, it’s us,” Stiles said, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t ever really handle things the best. It took us like a year just to admit we had feelings for each other.”
“Thank you!” you laughed. “Literally everyone I talked to was like ‘you should be telling Stiles this-’”
“Exactly!” he almost yelled, prompting some old ladies to shush him. “Or ‘Stiles, I agreed to listen to you talk if you held my things while I shopped, but I don’t see my purse anywhere-’”
“I mean, have they met us?” you laughed. You didn’t realize just how close you’d gotten while complaining. You took a breath and tried to focus on something other than Stiles’ lips. You weren’t sure how much time passed as you sat like that.
“So, uh, you wanna grab dinner sometime?” he asked, voice low.
“Maybe a movie?” you asked quietly. “I think we’ve done enough talking for now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
You pulled a face. “Don’t call me ma’am.”
“Yes, sir?” he asked. You sat back in your chair and folded your arms over your chest as he tried looking for another word. “Coach?”
“Oh my god, no!” you said. “Why am I even-”
“Stilinski?” You turned to see Coach standing in line, squinting at your table. “There better not be any sugar in that cup because I can barely tolerate you at practice as it is.”
“Uh, no! No, Coach. No sugar here. I didn’t even- this is her drink,” Stiles mumbled, pushing the hot chocolate over to you.
“Then what’s that?” he asked, pointing at the coffee you had your hands wrapped around.
“She’s a ... very thirsty girl. Terrified of dehydration,” Stiles nodded as he spoke.
“Uh-huh,” Coach said slowly. “Just don’t be late for tryouts again.”
---
“I don’t get it,” you said as you sat down. “I thought you wanted him to kiss you?”
“Yeah, I do, but-” Kira sighed and shook her head. “It was the first kiss we had since our actual first kiss and …”
“Still not seeing the problem here,” you said.
“It was the kind of kiss of you give your grandma,” she blurted out. “And I don’t wanna be his grandma. Am I making too big a deal out of this? I feel like I’m making too big a deal out of this.”
“No,” you said at the same time that Malia said, “Yes.”
“Look, my brother is kind of dumb when it comes to relationships,” you said. “I can guarantee that if you just kiss him again - the way you want to be kissed - then it’ll be fine. He’s crazy about you.”
“Right, right. Sure,” Kira said, nodding away. “But what if he doesn’t want to be kissed like that? Or at all.”
“What do you want?” Malia asked, looking up from her textbook.
“More,” Kira said. She looked out onto the field, resting her chin on a lacrosse stick and you rubbed her back lightly.
Then you saw Stiles throw the ball directly into the goalie’s net and you winced, pulling your hand back. The boy was a lot of things but good at lacrosse was not one of them.
The next kid got the ball straight into the net and soon enough it was Scott’s turn. He actually was good at lacrosse now that he was a werewolf, but he hit the pole and you pulled a face.
“Isn’t the captain supposed to be one of the best players on the team?” Kira asked. “Or good?”
“Give him some time,” you said gently. “He’s just warming up.”
In the next drill, Scott and Stiles were covering goal. Scott seemed to be over whatever was making him suck, and Stiles knew how to be part of a team so they were actually pretty okay. They headbutted each other, which probably just hurt because of the helmets, and then chest bumped when they blocked another player, which knocked Stiles to the ground.
Then it was that kid from earlier, and he made his shot. He blew past Stiles and Scott and got the ball past the goalie. It was impressive.
Amid all the celebrating from the other players, Malia stood up. “That was luck!” she yelled. You didn’t even know she was paying attention behind all those quadratic equations. “Do-over!”
“Sweetheart, there’s no do-overs,” Coach said, stifling a laugh. “This is practice.”
“Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles,” she said.
“I’ll take that action,” he said. “Hey! Get back in there, Liam!”
Stiles was pulling a facial expression somewhere between confusion and annoyance so you smiled at him. Then he realized he’d have to do all that again and his face fell, and you had to turn away to hide your laughter.
Coach blew his whistle and Liam blew past Stiles, again, but then he got to Scott and things changed. Scott slammed into him with his shoulder and managed to hit the poor kid so hard that he flipped over. You winced in the stands and ran over.
“Don’t move!” Coach yelled at Liam. Then he pointed at Scott and Stiles. “And don’t touch him!”
“It’s okay, Coach. I’m alright,” Liam said before crying out in pain when they tried to get him to his feet. “I think it’s my leg.”
“I think we better get him to the nurse,” Stiles said. He and Scott shuffled past you with Liam in their arms. He apologized and promised that he’d see you later, which distracted you from Coach’s yelling.
He picked up a lacrosse ball and threw it, not realizing he was throwing it directly into the stands. Kira caught it just before it hit Malia’s face.
“Wow,” Coach said. “Nice catch. Throw it back!”
Kira shrugged and stood up. She threw the ball back and it hit him straight in the chest, knocking him to his knees.
You dropped down to see if he was okay and all he managed to get out was, “Could you- ask her if she’s ever played lacrosse?”
---
“So you guys put him in the hospital?” you asked again, looking up from your book for clarification.
“No, I- didn’t you just listen? Scott put him in the hospital,” Stiles said, using his hands to make his point.
“Uh-huh,” you said. You closed the book and spun his chair around so you could look at Stiles where he was sitting on the bed. “And you were just an innocent bystander who didn’t tell him to use his wolf-powers?”
“Yes!” Stiles said. He collapsed into the bed before looking up at you. “Well, no. Technically speaking I…”
You smiled at him as you came closer. You sat in front of him on the bed and put your hand on the side of his face. He started stuttering.
“I mean, what does it mean to break someone’s bone, really? He’s still got like two hundred leftover so really nothing happened,” he said. “And you’re giving me that look like you’re not listening to what I’m saying.”
“I’m listening,” you hummed. “But I thought since your dad’s not here and we are technically dating now …”
“Oh,” he said, nodding, before realizing what you meant. “Oh.” He laughed and cupped your face with his hands. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
You laughed as he pressed his lips against yours. It was probably the clumsiest kiss you’d ever had but that didn’t stop it from heating up very quickly. Clumsy hands and unsure movements-
And then the door burst open and you both pulled away, fixing clothing and makeup and clearing your throats.
“Malia?” Stiles asked. “You have the worst timing ever. Ever, you understand that?”
She frowned at him, getting ready to say something before you sighed.
“What’s wrong, Malia?” you asked as you straightened up.
She looked between you and Stiles before sitting on the bed. “Stiles said he’d study with me and then blew me off for you. I wouldn’t have cared but I’m stuck and Lydia’s notes aren’t helping,” she explained.
“Did you try talking to Lydia about it?” Stiles asked, still sounding annoyed.
You hit his arm lightly. “Show me your problem and pull out Lydia’s notes. We’ll figure this out and then you need to learn to knock, okay?”
She nodded and started digging in her bag while Stiles rubbed his arm, feigning a much greater injury. You rolled your eyes and looked at the papers Malia gave you.
You frowned as you looked at them. The maths you got, but Lydia’s notes were …
“That’s not math,” Stiles said over your shoulder. “Lydia wrote these?”
Malia nodded.
“Stiles, the last time Lydia did something like this was the nemeton,” you said, closing the book and getting up. “We need to talk to her.”
---
Stiles dropped you and Malia off at Lydia’s house, but Scott called on the way over and said he needed Stiles’ help so he didn’t stick around. Lydia wasn’t home and her mom had no idea when she’d be back, so you told Malia to call you when she got back but you had to go see what trouble your brother was in.
You got home to find the house strangely quiet. Pushing the door to Scott’s room as gently as you could, it opened to Scott and Stiles standing in front of the kid from lacrosse practice who they’d duct-taped to a chair.
“-More confusing things are gonna happen because of the confusing things that happened tonight. You understand?” Stiles asked.
“Seriously?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest as you walked in. You looked at Stiles, then Liam, and then Scott. “Is this because he’s better at lacrosse than you?”
“What? He’s not better at lacrosse than me,” Scott said. “Better than Stiles maybe, but not me.”
“Hey!” Stiles whined.
He was going to go on when you held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it,” you said. “I’m going to make some tea because it was a very long walk over here, but he better be untied by the time I get back, okay?”
“But he-”
“Okay?” you repeated. “Remember what happened with Jackson?”
“You’ve done this before?” Liam asked.
“Listen, you’re really not helping your case by talking to her, alright, buddy,” Stiles said.
You rolled your eyes. “Let him go, okay? I’ll be back in five minutes.”
The kettle hadn’t even finished boiling when you heard something break upstairs. You shook your head and made your way to the stairs where you ended up colliding with Liam. He caught you before you fell in a way that reminded you of Isaac when he’d just turned. Reflexes too fast than what he was used to.
“I’m Liam,” he said breathlessly.
“Y/N,” you said as you stepped out of his grip. He just looked at you and you heard yelling coming from upstairs. You took a step back just before Stiles jumped down the last of the stairs and toppled into him, Scott landing on them a few moments later.
Liam squirmed out and through the front door while they each grabbed each others’ legs, yelling that they’d got him.
“I think,” you started as they tired themselves out, “that all you’ve got is each other.”
Stiles huffed as he threw Scott’s leg away from him. “Well, I’ve got you, right?”
“After a cheesy line like that?” you asked as you turned and walked back to the kitchen. Stiles was complaining behind you and Scott was just staring out the front door.
---
“I’m not sharing my basement,” Malia argued.
“Actually, it’s my basement,” Lydia said. “And my mom noticed how you tore it up last time.”
“We’re going to use the boathouse for Liam anyway,” Scott said, trying to keep the peace. “It’s got support beams so we can chain him to one of them.”
“But how do we get him out to the lake house if he doesn’t trust us?” Kira asked.
“I say, if it keeps him from murdering someone, we chloroform the little bastard and throw him in the lake,” Stiles said, miming the attack as he spoke.
“I’m in!” Malia said.
“I think I preferred it when I thought you two were dating,” you said. “The friends thing is a little weird and probably dangerous.”
“We’re not killing or kidnapping him!” Scott said.
“Then let’s be smarter,” Lydia said. “We tell him there’s a party and invite him.”
“So you’re going to ask out a freshman?” Stiles asked, an amused look on his face.
“Oh, no,” Lydia said, laughing to herself. “I’m done with teenage boys. But if we’re playing a trick on someone ...” she said as she turned to Kira. “Why not use a trickster?”
“Who, me?” Kira asked. “No way. Not me.”
“Yes, you!” you bumped her arm as you spoke.
“Why can’t you do it?” she whined.
“Because he knows who I am and-”
“You know what they call a female fox?” Lydia asked. “A vixen.”
“Me?” Kira asked softly.
“You,” you said again.
“You can do it, Kira,” Lydia said. “Be a vixen.”
After some more convincing, Kira agreed to do it. You were all breaking up to get to your classes when Stiles reached for your hand. He was about to say something when you saw Scott turn to look at you, and you shoved Stiles away so hard that he crashed into one of the busses.
Scott frowned as he turned around again and, after a second, you heard Stiles groan. You cursed and rushed over to him.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
“You mean other than my ego?” Stiles asked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m concussed.”
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you said as you touched his head.
“I don’t get why it happened in the first place,” he mumbled. “Is it Scott?”
You bit your lip. “We need to tell him. Before we, you know, do anything else.”
“You do realize you’re being ridiculous, right? He’s seen us hold hands about a million times before,” Stiles said. You nodded and gave him a sheepish smile before he wrapped an arm around you and kissed the top of your head. “Well, at least you’re self-aware.”
---
Stiles, Malia, and Lydia were waiting outside when you and Scott pulled up to the lake house.
“I just talked to Kira and they’re on their way,” he said, sounding just as confused as you felt about why they weren’t inside. “She says everything’s fine.”
“It’s not that. I have something to tell you,” Stiles said. “I asked around about Liam and I know why he got kicked out of his last school.”
“Some of us just don’t do well in private school,” you said defensively. They looked at you and you sighed. “This is gonna be bad, isn’t it?”
“He kind of got into it with one of his teachers,” Stiles explained. “And, uh, the kid’s got some serious anger issues.”
“How serious?” Scott asked, eyes widening.
“Well, that’s his teacher’s car,” Stiles said as he took out his phone to show you guys the photo. “After he took a crowbar to it.”
“Liam? Puppy dog eyes Liam?” you asked as you and Scott looked at the photo.
“I wouldn’t say they’re puppy dog eyes,” Stiles said. “Unless maybe a rabid pitbull had a baby with-”
“Let’s wait inside,” Scott said, a few shades paler after looking at that photo.
It didn’t take much waiting before you heard Kira pull in and then the two of them walked in. Liam immediately looked at all the full moon stuff you guys had out in the open and panicked.
“What the hell is this?” he asked as Stiles waved at him.
Kira closed the door before he could make a run for it. “Sorry.”
“Think of it like an intervention,” Stiles said. “You have a problem, Liam. And we’re the only ones that can help.”
Scott started explaining before Stiles could make things worse and the rest of you just had to listen and hope for the best once Liam started processing all the information.
“Werewolf?” he asked after about a minute, pointing at your brother. “Werecoyote.” Malia nodded. “Banshee.” Lydia smiled. Then he turned to Kira. “Fox?”
“Kitsune,” she corrected. “But fox works.”
“What about the two of you?” Liam asked.
“Uh, for a little while, I was possessed by an evil spirit,” Stiles said. Liam stared at him. “It was very evil.”
“Mm-hmm,” Liam nodded. “What are you now?”
“Well, now I’m, uh- I’m better,” Stiles said. “Wh-”
You put a hand on his shoulder. “The two of us are human.”
“I think one of you’s an idiot,” Liam said and you pulled Stiles back from arguing. “So those are for me?” He nodded at the pile of chains.
“No, they’re for me,” Malia said, turning her eyes coyote blue. Definitely inherited the Hale flair for the dramatics, that’s for sure.
“How- how’d you do that?” Liam stammered.
“You’ll learn,” Scott said. “But first you need to get through the full moon.”
“The moon’s already out,” Liam said.
“And you’re starting to feel something, aren’t you?” Scott asked.
“I feel like I’m surrounded by a bunch of psychotic nutjobs,” Liam snapped.
“Okay well ‘psychotic nutjob’ is redundant so-” you started.
“You guys are out of your freaking minds!” He was starting to yell. “I don’t know how you did that eye thing, and I don’t care. I’m walking out the door right now! And if any of you try to stop me, I swear to God, I’m gonna-”
He held his head in his hands and started yelling. It scared you, and you didn’t notice you’d reached for Stiles’ hand until he told you it was going to be alright. Then people started showing up and Scott and Kira dragged Liam out. Malia started turning so Stiles was taking her to the basement. You were about to follow when Lydia stopped you.
“What am I supposed to do with the hordes gathering outside the door?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Lydia,” you said. “Throw a party! You’re great at those.”
“I do throw the best parties in Beacon Hills,” she said, more to herself than to you.
“Hell yeah, you do!” you said as you gathered up what was left of the chains and cuffs. “See you later!”
You ran out and down the basement stairs before she could yell at you. Stiles had Malia mostly set up by the time you got down there, and she told him that he could leave if he wanted.
“No, I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Besides, I’m probably safer down here than at a party with fifty freshmen and a very pissed off Lydia.”
You hadn’t realized that you’d frozen out of their sight, waiting to see what Stiles was going to say. It was stupid. Shaking your head, you piled up the leftover chain and stood up.
“And it’s not like this is your first full moon,” you said as gently as you could. “It gets easier with each one.”
“Yeah?” Malia asked. “How do you know?”
“I might not be a werewolf but I know a thing or two,” you said, trying very hard not to be defensive.
She looked ready to argue some more but Stiles changed the subject and you went to crack open a bottle of water. It was going to be a long night.
Malia had been doing pretty well the first hour or so, even if she was changing, but then she started struggling against the chains and begging you and Stiles to leave.
“It’s okay. I hate parties,” Stiles assured her. “It’s a social anxiety thing.”
She thrashed toward him again, and you reached for his arm reflexively. Maybe you weren’t the best person to be looking out for her when it was your first instinct to protect Stiles.
“You ever had a panic attack?” he asked her.
“I’m having one now,” she growled.
“Just breathe, okay? We’re not going anywhere,” he promised.
Malia was still struggling against the chains. You wondered how long they’d last before she pulled one out the wall. “But what if I hurt you?”
“You’re not going to,” Stiles said.
“Hey, Malia?” you said before she could answer. You let go of Stiles’ hand to pull up your shirt. “You see this scar here?”
You could see her trying to focus, sweat beading on her forehead in concentration. She nodded.
“My friend Erica did that to me on her second full moon,” you said. You rolled up your sleeve to show her another on your arm. “And this bad boy was Isaac’s. You remember Isaac from Mexico, right?”
“He was there when Scott turned me,” she said through gritted teeth.
“That’s him,” you said. You were getting closer to her. “Isaac was so angry when he turned. At his mom for leaving him ... his brother for abandoning him … his dad for beating the crap out of him. Most of all at himself though.”
You paused for a second before blinking back a memory.
“He was so afraid of hurting someone the way he’d been hurt that he made Derek lock him up every full moon,” you said. “One night his cuffs weren’t on properly and he was so distracted by his fear that he didn’t realize he’d slipped out until he had his claws in my arm.”
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Something kind of like this,” you said as you brought your hands up to her face. “I know you don’t want to hurt anyone. But the truth is you’re an apex predator now and you’re going to hurt people. You decide how far you go, Malia. You’re a predator, but that doesn’t make you a killer.”
She was breathing heavy breaths, trying to concentrate on something.
“Be your own anchor, Malia,” you urged. “I know you can do this.”
It sounded like she was in pain, but you kept holding onto her face.
“Come on, I know you’ve got this,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You felt Stiles’ hand on your shoulder after another minute of heavy and slow breathing, and he got you to stand back up. As your hand was drifting back to your side, Malia caught your wrist. Her steely blue eyes met yours, but her wolfish features were gone.
“I think we’re gonna need another one of these,” she said, holding up a broken cuff. Her breathing was still labored, and after a second the blue eyes were gone.
“Oh my god, you did it!” Stiles cheered. He blew past you to give her a hug and you felt something twinge inside. “Hey, what are you doing over there?”
You shrugged, not really having an answer.
“Get over here!” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We did it!”
And just like that, whatever it was that made you sad or jealous a moment before was gone. You guys were in a good place.
Part 24
#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles slow burn#mccall!reader#so close#teen wolf#teen wolf au#teen wolf rewrite
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So Close - S.S. XX
Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.
Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 - S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8 Part 12 - S3AE9 + S3AE10 + S3AE11 Part 13 - S3AE11 + S3AE12 Part 14 Part 15 - S3BE1 + S3BE2 Part 16 - S3BE3 + S3BE4 Part 17 - S3BE5 + S3BE6 Part 18 - S3BE7 + S3BE8 + S3BE9 Part 19 - S3BE10 + S3BE11 Part 20 - S3BE11 + S3BE12
Word-count: 4.1k+
A/N: that wraps up season 3!! kinda crazy that we’ve come so far. i just wanted to say thank you to all of you guys for reading and commenting on the different parts; you have no idea what it means to share this with you. hope you like it!!
And wishful thinking it had been. When Allison shot one of the oni and it burst into golden light, you actually had hope that you could survive this. Hope that you could get through this alive. That hope died the same moment that Allison did.
You understood that Scott had to stay behind to tell the police some lie that would explain her death, but you didn’t understand why you had to be there. Lydia got to leave with Chris, and you knew that comforting him had to be worse than covering up your friend’s death, but it made you sick to sit in Noah’s office tell him that she got mugged. That everything just happened so fast.
Truth be told, it did happen too fast for you to process. One moment you were about to be run through with a katana, and the next moment the oni was gone and your friend had been run through instead. You struggled to process it. You just followed Scott to the animal clinic and tried not to get in his way.
“Stiles and Kira said that it was the nemeton that kept it trapped,” Scott said.
“The problem is that this isn’t even a person you’re fighting,” Deaton explained. “It just looks like one. It’s a spirit that’s taken the shape of a human.”
“The shape of my best friend,” Scott said. “And Noshiko caught it once. That means we can catch it again.”
“Not necessarily,” Deaton said. “This thing was trapped a long time ago, before the nemeton was cut down. It doesn’t have the same power anymore.”
“Is there anything that does?”
“Possibly,” he said. “When the tree was whole, the wood was sometimes used to contain powerful objects. But those objects are very rare.”
“How powerful do they have to be?” you asked, looking up. It was the first time you spoke since you left the station.
“That depends. What did you have in mind?” Deaton asked.
“Cora told me that Derek still has Talia’s claws,” you said and pushed yourself off the counter, getting closer. “I- I know it’s a long shot but she showed me the box. It’s this long cylinder with a triskele on the top. It would make sense that the wood came from the nemeton, right? Because the Hales are-”
“It was,” Deaton said. His face was grave. “I made it.”
“Call Derek,” you told Scott. “He’ll bring it.”
Scott nodded and pulled out his phone. You listened as he talked to Derek; the twins had been attacked in the woods but they were on their way to meet up at the school. Almost as soon as he hung up, Kira came in, supporting Stiles. He was so weak now that he could barely stand by himself.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. Your hands were already out, instinctively checking that he was okay and holding on wherever you could so he wouldn’t disappear.
“I’ve got this feeling that we’re running out of time,” he said breathlessly.
Stiles tried to explain how it felt in the car - like he was still somehow linked to the nogitsune - but all you could focus on was how close to dying he looked. It scared you. When he stumbled out of the Jeep at the school and into the guard rail, you wrapped an arm around him to keep him steady.
“Scott, hold on,” he said once you reached the school doors. “I know what you’re all thinking. That if this works, it might kill me, too. But even if it does, you have to go through with it. Stick with the plan, okay?”
“The plan is to save you,” Scott said. “That’s the plan I’m going with.”
Stiles looked like he was going to argue so you used your hand that wasn’t looped around his waist to reach for his hand that fell over your shoulder, and you smiled at him. It wasn’t much but it was enough to keep him quiet as Scott pushed open the doors and stepped into … a Japanese garden. It was snowing.
The doors shut behind you and you felt Stiles hold your hand a little tighter.
“Well, this is definitely not part of the plan,” he mumbled, looking around.
Kira held up her hand and let the snow fall into her palm. You were so distracted by it that you almost didn’t see the nogitsune walk out from a passage near the doors. Almost.
He was terrifying enough when he had the familiar face of someone you loved, but this was what Stiles always saw: A bandaged, vaguely human-shaped demon, with a mouth full of fangs and no other discernible features. But that didn’t prepare you for his voice; scratchy and hoarse like something that was long dead.
“Like I promised, Stiles,” he snarled. “We are going to kill all of them. One by one.”
The oni appeared as he finished speaking, making his threats even more ominous. You pushed yourself a little bit closer to Stiles, covering him slightly.
“What the hell is this?” Scott asked. “Where are we?”
“Between life and death.”
You looked at Stiles for a second before saying, “Bardo.”
“But there are no peaceful deities here.” The nogitsune waved a finger as he spoke. “You’re dying, Stiles. And now everyone you care about is dying, too.”
“What?” Stiles asked. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve captured almost all the territories on the board, Stiles. The hospital. The Sheriff’s station. And now, the animal clinic.” The nogitsune started limping closer, and you moved Stiles even further behind you. “Do you know the ritual of seppuku, Stiles?”
“No, and I don’t want to,” he said, moving out from behind you. He didn’t notice you engage your blade as he spoke.
“When a samurai disembowels himself with his own sword to maintain his honor, but that’s not the cut that kills him. The killing stroke is made by his kaishakunin who beheads the samurai with his own katana.” He raised a bandaged hand to your brother. “Scott … Scott is your kaishakunin. I’m going to make your best friend kill you, Stiles. And you’re going to let him. Because just like you, they’re all going to die. Everyone touched by an oni’s blade … unless Scott kills you first.”
“Like hell!” You took advantage of the fact that he was so close to Stiles and slashed him across the chest. It tore through his shirt and ripped through some bandages, but nothing else. Unless you count calling the oni forth, because it did that as well.
The nogitsune stepped back and Scott and Kira got to work trying to keep the oni back. You pulled Stiles behind a bridge and stood up to try to cover the others. Your knives were nothing but an annoyance to them, but they were something at least. They also distracted you from noticing what Stiles was doing until it was too late. Kira’s katana had been knocked out of her hand and he grabbed it.
“Stiles, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked, concentration lines that had been etching into your forehead melting away.
“Ending this,” he said. “What if it saves you? What if it saves all of you?”
“Stiles, no!” Scott yelled.
“And what if it’s just another trick? You die and he gets more powerful?” you asked. You moved closer and he took a step back. You stopped, hands up in surrender. He’d do it just to spite you. “Please, Stiles-”
“No more tricks,” the nogitsune growled. “End it, Scott. Let your friend fall on his own sword. Do for him what he cannot do for himself. Be his kaishakunin. Give up the game.”
“Will you seriously shut up?” you asked. You spun around to yell at him, but you turned slowly to focus on your friend. “Stiles? Stiles, look at me. Just put it down. There’s another way.”
His hands were trembling as he gripped the katana and took shaky breaths. But then he stopped. He looked around, gears turning in his head.
“Stiles?”
“You have no moves left,” the nogitsune said.
Stiles lowered the katana. “I do.” He threw it to Kira and faced the nogitsune. “A divine move.”
The nogitsune snarled and you moved closer to Stiles. He wrapped an arm around you.
“Stop fighting them,” he said. “It’s an illusion. You have to stop fighting them. It looks real, and it feels real. But, Scott, you gotta trust me. It’s an illusion.”
“I trust you,” you whispered. You held a hand out to him and took slow steps closer.
The oni closed ranks around the nogitsune and Scott turned to face them. He started moving forward and the rest of you followed. The oni swiped their katanas at them but Scott pushed through and barrelled into the nogitsune and through the doors behind him. The four of you came out inside the school hallway, unharmed.
“We’re okay,” Scott said. He sounded so unsure. “We’re-”
Something threw him against the lockers and you pulled Stiles behind you, knife pointed out at whatever was there. Kira turned to face what it was and the nogitsune slapped her so hard that it knocked her out. He looked like Stiles again and there was something in his eyes that you didn’t recognise.
“This was my game,” he said. He looked up at you and Stiles. His dark circles were looking worse. “You think you can beat me at my game?”
Your eyes were still on the nogitsune, but you patted Stiles’ leg, signaling that it was time to go. He grabbed your hand and pulled you back as the nogitsune stomped closer to you.
“Divine move,” he scoffed, imitating Stiles. “Divine move? You think you have any moves at all? You can kill the oni, but me? Me? I’m a thousand years old! You can’t kill me!”
You saw Scott get up in the distance and a tiny bit of hope rekindled. “I don’t think we have to,” you said quietly.
Stiles stopped next to you, tightening his hold on your hand. “Because we can change you.”
The nogitsune stopped in his tracks. He looked at you, still furious. “What?” He wasn’t yelling anymore.
“You forgot about the scroll,” Stiles said.
Something inside the nogitsune clicked. “You can change the host.”
“Luckily for me, you’re not a wolf,” you said, tilting your head as you did. “Right?”
Just like when you stabbed him, everything changed. He reached out and grabbed your arm, ready to grab your throat and tear it out, but Stiles hit his arm at the same time that Scott sank his claws into the nogitsune’s shoulder and bit his arm. Between the two attacks, you got a nasty squeeze that was bound to bruise, but he let go.
Kira impaled him with her katana and he fell to the floor. He started retching and a fly flew out of his mouth. You watched it float all the way down the hallway, not sure what to do other than hold onto Stiles, until you saw Cora and Lydia.
Lydia held out the triskele box and trapped the fly inside.
The nogitsune’s body started convulsing again and you turned to watch it fall to the ground and crumble to dust. Your heart surged as you tightened your grip on Stiles, his grip practically nonexistent as you started talking.
“Stiles, are you-”
His whole body went limp and he slipped out of your hands as he fell to the ground. It took you a second to look for a pulse and see if he was breathing. And it took him a minute to wake up.
“Oh, god,” he groaned, hand reaching to his head. “I fainted, didn’t I?”
“Sure did, buddy,” you laughed, pushing down any other fears. He was awake. “But other than that, you’re all good.”
“We’re alive,” he said. “We’re all alive?”
“Yeah,” Scott said quietly. “We’re okay.”
Lydia got that haunted look on her face again and she stood up. She didn’t hear when you asked if she was okay, and she started walking down the hallway before breaking into a run. You picked Stiles up and helped him follow after her. The others were already ahead of you.
When you got outside, Lydia was crying in Cora’s arms. You could make out four people in the tunnel below. Derek, Chris, the twins … where was Isaac? He came up from behind and you almost cried when you saw him. He wasn’t dead at least, but Aiden was. You found yourself surprised by the amount of heartache it caused you.
---
You weren’t sure what cover story they ended up settling on, just that it didn’t involve you or Stiles. After some coaxing, you managed to get him to the Jeep.
“You should drive,” he said, voice hollow.
You were still protesting when he dug the keys out of his pockets and gave them to you. That was all he said until you got back to his house, despite playing his favorite songs as you drove. You’d stolen glances at him when you could; he still looked close to death but he seemed to be getting better with every mile further from the school. Stolen glances didn’t prepare you for looking at him after you parked and killed the engine.
His face was wet and his eyes were red-rimmed. His skin was still too pale and the circles under his eyes were still too dark. Was he shaking?
“Hey,” you said gently. “It’s over now.”
He nodded, the only noise was when he sniffed and wiped his face with his sleeve.
You turned in your seat to face him and reached a hand over the armrest. He didn’t move to take it, so you held his forearm with both hands. “It’s over now. You’re okay.”
“Y/N, I-”
His voice cracked.
“Say it with me?” you whispered. You moved closer to take one of his hands, despite the uncomfortable position. “It’s over now.”
“It’s ... over now,” he repeated, his hand holding yours too tightly, despite the shaking.
You spoke slowly, still looking at him and hoping he’d look you in the eye. “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” His voice was barely audible before he started crying again. “No, I’m not. I- I’m not okay. I’m not. I’m not.”
“Hey, shh. It’s okay.” Your voice flooded with concern as you moved onto the armrest. It was tiny and uncomfortable, and you almost lost your balance as you started pulling him closer to you. “I’m here. No matter what.”
“I can’t- he-” Stiles pressed his eyes closed so tightly that his entire face scrunched down.
You smoothed your hand down the side of his face, cupping his chin lightly. When he opened his eyes, he’d be looking at you. “No matter what.”
“No matter what,” he whispered shakily as he opened his eyes.
It took you at least half an hour to calm him down enough to get him inside. When you did, you found Noah in the living room pretending to read the newspaper. He jumped up when you and Stiles walked in, hand in hand.
“Is it over?” he asked again. He looked hopeful and afraid.
Stiles nodded and let go of your hand to go over and give his dad a hug. Your heart ached as they held each other, both releasing quiet sighs of relief.
“What are you doing over there?” Noah asked you over Stiles’ shoulder after a few moments. “Get in here!”
You laughed and wiped away a tear as you moved closer, stretching your arms over the two of them and on your tiptoes to try to be the tallest.
“Weirdo, quit pretending to be six feet tall and let us hug you like a normal person,” Stiles laughed. He had to be at least a little bit better if he was making jokes.
“Are you trying to convince me that your six-foot?” you asked, lowering yourself down and running a hand through his hair. “Noah, maybe. But you?”
---
“It’s really sweet of your dad to let me stay over like this,” you said as you carried the spare blankets into the Stilinski’s guest room. “I mean, he used to panic when we did this when we were little and we even had Scott with us then.”
“Yeah, well, just cause he always wanted a daughter doesn’t mean he knew what to do with one.” Stiles scratched the back of his head, holding the sweatpants and sleep shirt he got for you close to his chest.
You smiled and took them from his as gently as you could. “Thanks for all this.”
“Thanks for staying,” he said. His voice had lowered. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Neither did I.”
The two of you stayed close together, holding onto opposite corners of the clothes and looking at one another, for an unusually long period of time. You were trying to guess what he was thinking and fighting off the urge to reach up and kiss him. And he was …
“Well, good night,” he said, handing you the clothes again. “I’m gonna, uh, go to my room. You know where that is if you need me or- well, you practically live here so I guess you won’t need me for anything. But, um-”
“Got it,” you smiled, curling your hands around clothes. “Sleep well.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Another beat of hopeful silence passed, and then he turned and rushed out. You sighed and collapsed back onto the bed. Stupid Stiles and this stupid crush you had on him. After moping for a while, you got up and changed into the clothes he’d given you. They were soft and smelled like the fabric softener his mom used to use. Despite everything that you’d been through the past few days, you felt yourself smile.
You got into bed and shut off all the lights, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep. Between your own messed up psyche and the beginning processes of grief, there was no way you could switch your brain off. So you just lay there. Staring up at the ceiling, replaying old memories in your head. Until you heard the door creak open.
A part of you hoped it was Stiles, but the more practical part of you reached for the knife you kept under your pillow. You tightened your grip as the footsteps got closer. You heard whoever it was pause and sigh, mumbling something about sleeping at a time like this. You let go of the knife. It was Stiles.
He moved the covers away slowly, trying not to wake you, and slid in next to you. It felt like he was going to move closer but his hand dropped in the middle of the bed.
You faked waking up as you stretched out and rolled over to face him. “You’re cold,” you said softly as you brought his hand up and held it with both of your own. “I can feel it from all the way over here.”
“Yeah, sorry,” he whispered. He was lying so still. “I couldn’t sleep so I was taking the stuff off my walls. Kinda surprised you can sleep, if I'm being honest...”
“What can I say?” you asked as you moved even closer, resting your head on his chest. “I’m full of surprises.”
“Yeah, well, that’s definitely true,” Stiles exhaled and wrapped his arms around you. You tucked your head under his chin and he smoothed some of your hair down and you could have sworn that he kissed the top of your head. “You really are warm,” he mumbled.
“And you’re really cold,” you laughed and turned your head up to smile at him.
His face was so full of concern as you peered up at him, his hand cupping your jaw. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
“More than alright.”
He smiled as he leaned over and closed the distance between you. When he’d kissed you as the nogitsune, there was always something harsh behind it. Always some kind of chaos. But this was different. This was Stiles.
“Hey,” you said quietly, holding onto the collar of his t-shirt and touching his jaw lightly with your index finger. “We are going to go on that date, right? This isn’t just-”
“Yeah, we’re going on that date,” he said. “Maybe dinner, a movie … Oh, the Christmas Carnival should be in town soon. I could win you one of those stuffed bears, huh? What do you say?”
You laughed again and laid your head back down. “I say it’s a date,” you smiled. “You could say something all mushy and romantic and I’ll cup your jaw and …”
Despite your best efforts not to, you fell asleep with your head on Stiles’ chest and his arm around you before you even finished your sentence. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.
And then the door creaked open again. This person wasn’t nearly as quiet and gentle as Stiles had been when they moved the cover and got in the bed. And they were much, much warmer.
You sat up and pointed your knife at the intruder, waking up a very confused Stiles in the process.
“What’s going- Woah, where’d you get the knife?” he asked. He looked around and blinked when he saw your new bedmate. “Malia? What are you doing here?”
“I ran into Scott and he said it was over,” she said. “So I came to see you and you weren’t in your room.”
“So you just got into a random bed and hoped for the best?” You were trying to keep your voice down so Noah wouldn’t wake up.
“No. I can smell him,” Malia said simply. “And you.”
“Oh, okay. That makes it so much better!” You looked at Stiles, waiting for him to say something.
He was just staring between you and Malia before you nudged him and snapped him out of it. “Uh, Malia, okay,” he started. “Do you remember what Morrell said about boundaries in group?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, you’re crossing, like, a whole lot right now.”
“How?” she asked. You couldn’t tell if she was genuinely confused or not.
“You can’t just get into my bed whenever you feel like it.”
“But we had sex. Why is it a problem now?”
“Wait, I’m sorry, you did what?” you asked. You straightened up and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Sex. At Eichen House.”
“Alright, Malia, uh- why don’t you go wait in my room while Y/N and I hash this out?” Stiles asked.
“But I can still hear everything you say.”
“Would you just go?” he asked. He sighed and added, “Please?”
She seemed annoyed that she had to leave but she got up and left anyway. Probably because Stiles asked and not you.
“Y/N, I can explain,” he said. You looked at him without saying anything. “Okay, I think that means I should keep talking. I, uh, I was really alone when I was at Eichen House. And Malia- she was, you know, there as well-”
“How could you do that to me?” you asked. It felt like you were going to cry so you stood up to leave. “It’s not like you didn’t know how I felt about you. And you knew how much it hurt when you kissed Heather, and Lydia, and Emily. I just-”
“No, hey, it wasn’t like that,” he said as he got up with his hands out to hold onto you.
You stepped out of his reach. “Then what was it like?”
“You were afraid of me,” he said quietly. “I could see it in the way you looked at me. You- you were terrified. And Malia … Malia wasn’t. She wanted to help me figure this out and I was so alone so I-”
“You slept with her because you thought I was afraid of you?” Now you really were crying, and you hated yourself for it. “Stiles, I just watched something that looked like you try to kill my brother. The same thing that almost killed me. I wasn’t afraid of you.”
“Just my face,” he said. “Every time I came near you, you ran away.”
“Because I couldn’t trust myself!” You gathered up your clothes from the floor. “And I don’t think I should’ve trusted you.”
“Y/N, I …” his voice cracked. “Please don’t go. We can work this out.”
“With Malia in the next room?”
“I’ll tell her to go. Y/N, I-” He reached for your hand. “I love you.”
You’d been waiting for those words for years now, and you could tell he meant them. But it just didn’t feel like you’d always wanted it to. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
You shook your head and pulled your hand away, wiping your face as you turned to leave.
“I’m taking the Jeep. Scott will bring it by tomorrow.”
“Y/N, wait-”
But you were already gone.
Part 21
#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles slow burn#mccall!reader#so close#teen wolf#teen wolf au#teen wolf rewrite
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So Close - S.S. IX
Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.
Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 - S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4
Word-count: 3.4k+
With everything that was going on, the last thing you felt like doing was going to cross country practice, but if you were going to be on the team then you couldn't miss the training. Plus, you figured that since all your friends were on the team that it would be the closest to normal you’d get this school year.
You were standing with Isaac, rambling on about your bio class while he tied his shoelaces. He started tensing up somewhere between extra credit and the report due in a few weeks, and you nudged him gently with your foot. “Isaac? Are you even listening, bud?”
He didn’t even look at you as he answered - rather vaguely - “They’re here.”
“Who’s here?” you asked gently, bending down to touch his back gently. He still wasn’t snapping out of it.
“It’s them.” He nodded in the direction of the twins and stood up. “The alphas.”
You were still trying to figure out what he was on about when he took off after them. Scott ran past you and you mumbled some choice words under your breath before following them. They were long gone in just a few minutes. You gave up chasing them and made your way back to the group.
By the time you found everyone, they were standing around some tree in a clearing. You looked for Stiles and wandered over to him, but you stopped just short of him when you saw the dead body they were surrounding. “Oh, god.”
“Y/N?” Stiles turned to look at you, seemingly surprised to find you. “Oh, jeez, you’re still not good with dead bodies, huh?” You shook your head and he put his hands on your shoulders. “Okay, look at me. I’m going to take you to sit down, alright?”
You shook your head and took a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. I just … do we know who it is? The- the guy that Scott said was missing? Kyle?”
“I don’t know. Scott was the one that saw him that night.” Stiles sighed and looked over your shoulder. “Scott’s heading back this way with a very pissed looking Isaac. Just hang in a few more minutes, okay? Then I’ll get you out of here.”
You nodded and shifted once they made their way over. You leaned into Stiles as he caught Scott and Isaac up, and Scott confirmed that the dead body was Kyle. When Noah and the rest of the cops came, Stiles let go of you to go talk to his dad and you held onto Scott. “So what happened back there?” You asked quietly.
“The twins are part of the alpha pack.” He kept his voice low so no one else heard. “They were gonna hurt Isaac.”
“Yeah, or worse.” You looked over at Isaac and he seemed okay, but you could tell he was still jittery. You snapped out of your daze when you heard Coach’s booming voice.
“You heard the man: Nothing to see here!” Coach yelled when asked to help clear the area. “Probably just some homeless kid.”
“Coach,” Scott said. “He was a senior.”
Regret immediately flooded Coach’s face and you actually felt kind of bad for him. “Oh … Well, he wasn’t on the team, was he?”
Your sympathy dried up and you were going to snap at him when a blonde girl came running up to the tree, screaming Kyle’s name. One of the deputies had to restrain her. You looked away and Scott tugged on your sleeve to get your attention. The four of you were heading back to the school.
“Did you see the way the twins looked at him?” Isaac asked, still glaring over his shoulder at them.
“Yeah, you mean like they had no idea what happened?” Stiles asked.
“No, no. They knew.” You bumped Isaac’s arm lightly to bring his attention forward again.
“The kid was strangled with a garrote, okay? Am I the only one recognizing the lack of werewolfitude in these murders?” Stiles asked, motioning with his hands to make his point.
“No, but you’re the only one recognizing it so loudly,” you mumbled.
“So you guys think it’s a coincidence they turn up-” Isaac looked back again “- and then people start dying?”
“No, but I still don’t think it’s them.”
“Scott,” you interrupted their argument. “What do you think?”
The four of you came to stop and both Isaac and Stiles were waiting for him to take their side. The conflict made you a little uncomfortable but you ignored it.
“I don’t know yet,” Scott said eventually, not doing much to dissipate the tension.
“You don’t know yet?” Stiles echoed, arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, Isaac’s got a point,” Scott started, and upon seeing Stiles’ betrayed reaction he continued, “Seriously, dude, human sacrifices?”
“Scott, your eyes turn into yellow glow sticks, okay? Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then will immediately disappear, and if I were to stab you right now, it would just magically heal,” Stiles said. “But you’re telling me that you’re having trouble grasping human sacrifices?”
Scott sighed and turned to Isaac. “That’s a good point, too.”
“I don’t care,” Isaac said. “They killed that kid. They killed the girl that saved me. And I’m gonna kill them too.”
You shared a look with Stiles before Isaac started walking away, and with a huff you followed after him. “Jesus, Isaac. A few months with the Hales and suddenly you’ve got a flair for the dramatics?”
---
“So what do you think of all this?” you asked Stiles. You were leaning on one of the lockers while he scoured Kyle’s for clues. “Come on, you really think I don't see those gears turning in there?”
Stiles laughed under his breath and looked at you. “I don’t know. I spoke to his girlfriend and he's not a virgin like the others. He's still one of them, though. One of the sacrifices.”
“Well, it’s the threefold death, right? What if this is a new set of three?”
“Yeah, but what’s the set? High school seniors? Guys who wear leather jackets?” He was going to keep going - no doubt with something more inappropriate - but he stopped when he saw Boyd coming up to put something on Kyle’s locker.
“Boyd, you’re back!” You pulled him into a hug. “Isaac didn’t mention you were starting school again.”
“Yeah, I would’ve told you but, uh…” Boyd looked behind you and to Stiles, not finishing his sentence. He looked like he was going to say something but then thought better of it. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”
“Hey, wait, so did you, uh- did you know Kyle?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah, we were in Junior ROTC together,” Boyd answered.
“So you were friends?” you asked with a small smile. Losing Erica was hard enough, but losing another friend within the span of two months sounded awful.
“I only had one friend.” Boyd looked down to where your hand was on his arm. “She’s dead, too.” You let your hand fall away then watched him leave.
Turning back to Stiles, you sucked in a breath. “That was …”
“Intense.”
“And not very informative.” You ran a hand through your hair and bumped Stiles’ arm with your elbow, giving him a smile. “I’ve got to go check on Isaac. He’s got detention with Allison and someone needs to make sure they don't kill each other.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Stiles laughed. “I need to talk to Lydia anyway … We still on for free period later?”
“Since you so rudely stole my lunch period to snoop, I think it’s only fair you take me out for something to eat.” You gave him another smile before turning to find wherever they holed up Isaac.
You saw Scott running to one of the supply closets and followed after him. He dragged a vending machine out of the way, pulled open the door, and the next thing you saw Isaac had been thrown into the wall opposite the closet. He was turning.
“Hey, hey, hey,” you whispered, pulling him closer. “Calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
You rubbed his arms gently to get him to calm down, and you could see that he was trying desperately to change back. Scott yelled his name to try and force him to change, but all it really did was annoy you. When you looked up to snap at him, you saw that Allison had been cut.
“I’m okay. I’m fine,” Allison insisted. Scott was holding her arm, and though the cuts didn’t look that deep, you knew they hurt.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to do that,” Isaac stammered. You were still holding him close and could feel his heart beating about a mile a minute in his chest.
“I’m okay,” Allison promised.
“I’m so sorry.” Isaac was cycling through stages of guilt and trying to push you away but also hold you closer at the same time. It was definitely a little weird but he used to do something similar when he was younger.
“It’s not his fault,” Allsion said when Scott didn’t look like he was calming down.
“I know,” he said. “I guess now we know they want to do more than get you angry. They want to get someone hurt.”
“So are we going to do something?” Isaac asked. His heart rate had come down and he stopped pushing you away.
“Yeah.” Scott nodded. “We’re gonna get them angry. Really angry.”
You and Isaac got up, huddling closer to Scott and Allison. While they came up with a plan, you cleaned up Allison’s wound with the first aid kit you had in your bag.
“Well, uh, as much as I’d like to be a part of this,” you said, waving your finger between the four of you, “I’ve got geometry in like five minutes and I really don’t need any more disciplinary hearings on my record.”
Allison smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it, trouble maker. We can handle it from here.”
---
“You’re out of school early,” Deaton said when you and Stiles entered the animal clinic. You weren’t sure when lunch had turned into a side-quest, but you went along with it anyway.
“We’ve got a free period,” you smiled.
“Yeah, we were, uh, gonna grab lunch and go see my dad,” Stiles said. “He’s uh- you know, I guess you probably heard people are getting kind of murdered again. It’s his job to figure it out.”
“I gathered as much from the sheriff title.”
“Yeah, but, uh, Stiles has been kind of worried about him lately. He got fired for a little bit not too long ago because it’s, uh- it’s kind of hard for him to figure stuff out when he doesn’t know everything,” you said, brushing some hair behind your ear.
“So I started thinking, and I remembered someone who does have a lot of information,” Stiles continued. “Someone who always seems to know more than anyone else around here. You.”
Deaton nodded like he was expecting this to happen at some point. He motioned for you guys to follow him to the back. Stiles kept talking as you did.
“All these symbols and things - the triskeles, the bank logo, the mountain ash - all of it is from the Celtic druids,” he went on. “And anyone who’s ever looked up human sacrifices before knows that the druids had a pretty big hard-on when it came to giving one up to the gods.” You stopped in front of the examination table. “You ever hear of the Lindow Man?” He described how the body was found with the threefold death injuries, and you placed a hand gently on his shoulders.
“Stiles, uh, maybe we should let Deaton talk for a bit,” you suggested.
“They also found grains of pollen in his stomach,” Deaton said to Stiles. “Grains of mistletoe.”
“So I’m just telling you stuff you already know?” Stiles asked and Deaton nodded. “Then why aren’t you telling us?”
“Maybe because when you’ve spent every moment of the last ten years trying to push something away.” Deaton looked like he was choosing his words very carefully before saying them. “Denying it. Lying about it. It becomes a pretty powerful habit.”
The three of you were quiet for a minute, and you were watching Stiles bite back any insults or sarcastic comments. You stepped in before he had the chance to find his favorite. “So the person doing this, they’re a druid, right?”
“No,” Deaton said, much to your confusion. “It’s someone copying a centuries-old practice of a people who should have known better. Do you know what the word ‘druid’ means in gaelic?”
“No,” Stiles said.
“In proto-celtic, it roughly translates to ‘tree-knower,’” you said. “I’ve, uh, been doing some reading since this all started.”
Deaton nodded. “Very good, but a direct translation is ‘wise oak.’ The celtic druids were close to nature. They believed they kept it in balance. They were philosophers and scholars, but they weren’t serial killers.”
“Yeah, well, this one is,” Stiles said. His phone started ringing and he sighed. The caller ID told you it was Lydia and you told him to get it. You walked over to Deaton’s side of the table in the meantime to talk to him some more, but neither of you got the chance because when Stiles said the word ‘missing’ both of you turned to look at him.
After a little convincing, you got Deaton to come back to school with you and you met Lydia in the music room. She still looked pretty freaked out about it, but she showed you the recording she’d found anyway.
“Can we get a copy of this?” Deaton asked when the recording finished playing. Lydia nodded and sent it to him.
“Hey, Doc, any help would be, you know, helpful,” Stiles said while he rummaged through the teacher’s desk drawers. You rolled your eyes.
“Each grouping of three would have its own purpose, its own type of power. Virgins, healers, philosophers, warriors-”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Stiles stood up to look at him. “Warrior, could that also be like a soldier?” He looked over at you.
“Kyle was in Junior ROTC,” you explained and Stiles showed everyone a photo of the teacher on his wedding day in his uniform.
“That’s got to be it. That’s the pattern.” Deaton looked at the photograph. “Where’s Boyd?”
“He’s probably home by now but I’m gonna try and get him on the phone.” Stiles rushed out and you looked over at Lydia.
“Lyd, you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet,” you said gently.
“Yeah, it was- I mean … I just thought of someone else with a military connection,” she told you. Deaton asked who she thought of. “Harris.”
The four of you shared anxious looks before deciding to rush over to Harris’ classroom. No one was there. You couldn’t tell if that made you feel relieved or not.
“Maybe he just went home for the day,” you said, but even you could tell that your words were hollow.
“Yeah, well…” Stiles went over to the desk and pulled out his briefcase. You’d never seen Harris without it. “Not without this.” You watched him open the case and remove its content. You leaned over the desk to see what he was frowning at.
“What?” Deaton asked.
“This test is graded ‘R,’” you told him.
“This one’s an ‘H.’” Lydia held up another test.
You and Stiles started splaying out all the tests to look for grades that didn’t make sense, but Deaton came over and rearranged the order.
“Do you remember I told you ‘druid’ was the Gaelic word for ‘wise oak?’” he asked. You and Stiles nodded. “If a druid went down the wrong path, the wise oak was sometimes said to have become a dark oak. There’s a Gaelic word for that as well: Darach.”
---
Stiles ended up taking you home after ransacking Harris’ classroom. He stopped at a fast food place on the way because your stomach was making the loudest noises in the car. The two of you were quiet as you poked at your food and watched Stiles dunk a fry into his milkshake.
“You’re quiet,” he said between chews.
“I just can’t believe he’s dead. I mean, I didn’t like Harris. And I barely knew him but it still … still hurts. Still feels like I lost something.” You took a sip of your drink.
“Yeah, well, I guess it’s also because Erica’s gone now. All this death is just-”
“Smothering.” He looked at you with this shocked expression on his face so you gave him a small smile. “I’ll get through it, but I- we shouldn’t have to, Stiles.” You didn’t realize your hand was reaching across the table until it met Stiles’ half way. “We’re just kids.”
“If we don’t, who will? You think Peter gives half a rat’s ass about anyone who isn’t him?” he asked. You knew he meant it to be encouraging but it just stung.
“I don’t know,” you said eventually.
The restaurant was quiet - just after the lunch rush had died down - and for a moment it felt like it was only you and Stiles in the whole building, holding hands and grieving.
“I can still hear her, you know?” Your voice was barely even a whisper. “People laughing in the hallways, when my feet hit the pavement as I run, when Isaac says something dumb I can practically feel her reaching over and slapping the back of his head.” Your voice cracked. “And every time I see Boyd it just-”
“It reminds you of her,” Stiles finished for you. “And it hurts like a bitch. I wanna tell you that it’s gonna go away, but it doesn’t. It gets less but it- it’s still there. It’s a reminder that you’re alive. And you’re here. And I’m here too. And Erica … she’d want you to be happy.”
You honestly didn’t know how to respond, so all you did was nod.
You watched Stiles sink back into his seat, taking his hand with him. “You wanna take these to go and get out of here? This booth is kind of depressing now.”
---
You and Melissa were cuddled up together on the couch. It had been a long day for both of you. She was playing absent-mindedly with your hair when you heard Scott’s voice, and then you both twisted around to get a better look at him. “Hey, Mom?” Isaac was with him. “Is it okay if Isaac stays with us for a little while?”
“What happened?” You and Melissa asked at the same time. You got up to get closer to them. You knew Isaac was physically fine - superhuman healing and all that - but you still felt yourself checking him like when you were younger.
Isaac caught your hands when they started drifting down his arms and stopped you. “Derek kicked me out.”
“He did what?” Melissa asked at the same time that you threatened Derek with bodily arm.
Isaac smiled gently at you and looked back at your mom. “It’s just a little crowded now that Cora’s there.”
“Right.” Melissa took a breath, thinking it over, and then smiled at you. “Get him settled while I talk to Scott?”
You nodded and took Isaac to the kitchen. You made some tea while Isaac started opening up about what happened. You guys had a routine for this by now.
“He threw a glass at you?” You pushed the mug into his hand. He focused on the drink instead of looking at you.
“I wasn’t listening to him. I- I was arguing with him.”
“Isaac, you know that’s not a reason for someone to throw a glass at you.” You tried your best to be gentle but your blood was boiling. You couldn’t do anything about his dad but you were perfectly willing to beat up Derek if you could.
“Y/N, it’s not that simple. He-”
“You guys look cozy,” Melissa said with a smile as she came into the kitchen with Scott. “So, Scott told me what happened and it’s perfectly okay if you wanna stay here.” Isaac started thanking her but she kept going. “We don’t have a spare room so you’d have to stay with Scott but other than that … it's okay with me.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Thank you, Mrs. McCall.”
“Melissa, please. Mrs. McCall was … well, my mother-in-law. And I don’t wanna be my mother-in-law.” You laughed and Melissa shook her head. “So, did you guys make some for all of us?”
#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles slow burn#stiles stilinksi imagine#so close#mccall!reader#teen wolf#teen wolf au#teen wolf rewrite
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So Close - S.S. VIII
Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.
Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 - S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3
Word-count: 4k+
Having Isaac back had been great, but the problem was that he didn’t remember anything about where he’d been or what he’d seen when he was missing. That’s how you ended up sitting with him and Derek in the loft, watching him pace as you all waited for Peter to help bring the memories to the surface.
“You know what?” Isaac eventually seemed to come to a conclusion and you motioned for him to continue. “I definitely don’t like this idea and I definitely don’t like him.”
“You’ll be fine.” Derek seemed the least concerned out of the three of you, sitting calming in his chair.
“Okay, but I mean can’t you do it?” You twisted slightly from your spot on the table and nudged him with the end of your shoe. “I don’t like him much either.”
“He knows how to do it. I don’t.” Derek seemed to soften when he looked up to see how nervous you and Isaac were. “It would be more dangerous if I tried doing it myself.”
Isaac pointed out that Scott didn’t trust Peter and you saw Derek’s patience slip again. You knew he cared about Scott but he was clearly growing tired of him constantly intervening with - but not actually joining - the pack. “Okay, but I still don’t like him,” Isaac conceded eventually.
“Nobody likes him.”
The love for making an entrance must run in the Hale family, because as soon as Derek was finished speaking, the loft door slid open and Peter strode in, making a snappy comeback about the negativity surrounding his return. “Coming back from the dead has left my abilities somewhat impaired but the hearing still works. So I hope you’re comfortable saying whatever it is that you’re feeling straight to my face.”
The three of you didn’t even need to look at each other before all saying, “We don’t like you.” Peter didn’t seem to appreciate that very much, but you ignored him to hop off the table and speak to Isaac. You told him that he didn’t have to do this if he wasn’t ready, but he promised he’d be fine.
A few minutes after Peter walked you through the process, you sat on the couch with Derek and watched him with Isaac. He was still asking Peter a question when Peter plunged his claws into the back of Isaac’s neck. You jumped to help him when he was flailing and yelling, but Derek stopped you when Peter started seeing things. He pulled away quickly and harshly when he was done, and the whole endeavor turned out not be especially helpful; the only thing he knew for sure was that Isaac found Erica and Boyd, but everything else was blurry.
“What does it mean?” Isaac asked in the smallest voice possible.
“He’s gonna kill them,” Derek said, eloquent as ever.
“No, no, no. He didn’t say that.” Peter searched for the words he was looking for. “He did promise them that by the full moon that they’d both be dead.”
“This full moon?” you asked. They all looked at you. “That’s tomorrow night.”
---
Deaton was going to induce hypothermia in Isaac to slow his heart rate - and even though you trusted him way more than you did Peter - you were still nervous about it all. You still helped them empty ice bags into the bathtub, but you all stopped when Deaton brought Isaac in and they walked over to the tub. That’s when Deaton revealed that his heart rate would have to be so slow that he would be nearly dead.
“It’s safe, though, right?” Isaac asked, looking up at him. That poor kid had already been through so much, but you knew they needed to do this.
“Do you want me to answer honestly?”
“No.” He decided, looking back to the ice-tub. “No, not really.”
Stiles snapped a rubber glove on his arm and the five of you all turned to look at him; you and Derek were mostly glaring at him rather than looking, but semantics. “What?” Stiles asked, eventually giving up and throwing the glove away.
Derek told Isaac that if it felt risky that he didn’t have to do it, but he’d already made up his mind. He took off his shirt and eased himself into the water. Once he was in, you knelt down and put your hand in the water to hold his. You bit back the urge to make a joke about not forgiving him if you lost a finger to the cold.
Honestly, the cold was the least of your problems because when Isaac started panicking, he started turning. You cried out when his claws sunk into your forearm, but you still helped the others hold him under the water. Suddenly, all of his thrashings stopped and he floated to the surface. His grip on your arm loosened and drifted back to your hand.
Deaton warned you that too many voices could confuse Isaac, so he had to be the only one to talk to him. The process was slow, but it was working until Deaton told him to remember the night in vivid detail. Isaac started to panic, and you tried to squeeze his hand lightly to support him. The lights flickering didn’t do much to ease the anxiety in the room … and neither did the storm outside.
“Someone’s here.” Isaac moved his hand up to your wrist and tightened his hand around it. It felt like your bones were fracturing. “Someone’s here.” Deaton told him to relax but it didn’t help. “No, no, no! They see me! They see me!” He pulled his arm into his body and dragged you deeper into the water. Not too much, but it was still more than you were prepared for. Stiles moved forward to pull you out, but you shook your head at him. You let him hold your other hand though.
Isaac started recounting his memories: He heard Boyd talking about not being in control during the full moon, but he still couldn’t see either of them, and that they were worried about hurting each other. Derek started talking and you glared at him, mentally telling him to shut up. Deaton started pushing him again but Isaac bolted upright, and this time he did pull you in enough to soak your entire upper body.
“They’re here.” His voice came out as a whisper. The only movement in the room was Stiles trying to wipe the water off your face, but he slowed as Isaac continued. “They’re here. They see me. They found me! They’re here!” He was yelling by this point, gripping tightly on your arm. It felt like he was tearing through your skin.
“This isn’t working.” Derek started yelling at him, like that would help any. “Isaac, where are you?”
He kept yelling over Deaton’s guidance, and Isaac was screaming in his panicked state. Scott told him to stop but it was too many voices. Isaac yelled that he was in a bank vault and there was a dead body, and then he snapped out of it. The release on your arm was enough of a signal for you and you pulled yourself out of the water, shaking and cold. Stiles pulled you closer and wrapped a towel around you. The others were helping Isaac while Stiles checked on your arm that had been in the water with Isaac. It was bloody and covered in tiny, nail-sized claw marks.
“It’s Beacon Hills National Bank,” Isaac started, stuttering either from the cold or the anxiety. “It’s, um- it’s an abandoned bank, and they’re keeping them locked inside. Inside the vault.”
“Do you remember what you said before you came out of it?” you asked. Even though he’d torn up your arm, you were still worried about how he’d take the news. Isaac shook his head.
“You said when they captured you that they dragged you into a room and that there was a body in it.” Stiles paused, still upset that you’d been hurt, and Isaac asked who’s body it was. “Erica. You said it was Erica.”
---
Deaton cleaned up and bandaged your arm and Stiles had dug his lacrosse jersey out of the Jeep so you had something dry to wear. You huddled next to Isaac on the counter as the others argued, trying to get warm. He’d gotten over the cold a lot faster than you had thanks to his werewolf abilities, and now he was just trying to make it up to you.
Derek was trying to argue that Erica was alive, which you desperately wanted to believe was true. “If she’s dead, then who was in the vault with Boyd?”
“Someone else, obviously,” Stiles answered, sounding worn out.
“Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle, okay?” Scott said before looking at Isaac. “The one that saved you?”
“No, she wasn’t like us.” Isaac shook his head. “Whoever was in the vault with Boyd was.”
“What if that’s how Erica died?” Stiles asked. “They pit them against each other during the full moons and see which ones survive. It’s like werewolf Thunderdome!” You flinched at the comparison and pushed yourself off the counter so you stood next to him.
Derek said that then you’d get them out tonight. Deaton argued that you needed a plan, and Stiles googled the bank while the two of them argued. “It looks like someone already broke in,” you hummed, head resting on Stiles’ arm as you read over his shoulder. “We could just use their plan.”
---
“This is how they got in.” Stiles circled the entry point on the bank plans. “It’s a rooftop air conditioning vent that leads down inside the walls of the vent, which is here.” He made another circle. “One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft. Now, that space is so small that it took him about twelve hours to drill into that wall - which is stone, by the way.”
You listened to him detail the rest of the plan from where you sat on the couch with Isaac. He was still pretty out of it, and honestly so were you. He’d apologized about a million times for hurting you but you told him not to worry about it. He’d never intentionally hurt you. You tuned back into the conversation when Stiles and Derek started bickering.
“If I go in first, how much space do I have?” Derek asked.
“What do you- what do you think you’re gonna do, Derek? You gonna punch through the wall?” They both stood up straight to face one another and you slowly moved more upright.
“Yes, Stiles.” Derek was smiling. This wasn’t going to end well. “I’m gonna punch through the wall.”
“Okay, okay, big guy. Let’s see it. Let’s see that fist - that big, old fist. Make it. Come on.” He put his hand out for Derek to punch, demonstrating the small space he’d be in. “Get it out there. Don’t be scared.” Derek balled his hand into a fist, looking sufficiently annoyed. “Okay, see this? That’s maybe three inches of room for you-”
Derek punched forward, barely using any energy, and hit Stiles so hard that he spun around and almost knocked into the table. You dashed towards him and pulled him away from the group. He was groaning and saying that Derek could do it, but you told him to shush so you could look at his hand.
“Can you open your palm for me?” You kept your voice quiet so you wouldn’t bother the others. You were holding Stiles’ forearm in your hands, just like he’d done for you at the animal clinic.
“Yeah, it’s not- not that bad.” He was trying to blow you off and seem casual, so you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, tough guy.” You used your hand to unfurl his fingers and rubbed his palm gently for a few seconds. He didn’t say anything, so you figured it was okay. “It looks fine. Do you want to head back?” He nodded and the two of you joined the argument again. Peter wasn’t going with them. Isaac wasn’t up to it either, even though he wanted to help.
“I don’t know about Erica,” Scott started, “But if Boyd’s still alive, we have to do something. We have to try.”
“I’m coming too,” you said. They all looked at you like you were crazy.
“What? No way.” Scott shook his head. “You’re not like us. You could get hurt.”
“I was helping them look for months and no one seemed to care that I wasn’t like you!”
“It’s different now.” You looked over at Derek, hurt that he didn’t want you to come with. “Besides, someone’s gotta keep an eye on him.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!” Stiles whined.
“Not you. Him.” Derek pointed at Peter and you sighed.
“Fine. But if anything happens to you two-”
“It won’t,” Scott promised.
---
Stiles was staring out the window, rambling, and Peter was being bitter and annoyed on the couch. You’d taken to curling up on Derek’s bed since it was the farthest you could get from Peter without leaving the loft. They were arguing about why the alpha pack had kept them for so long and Peter suggested that they were being poetic. You rolled your eyes.
“They’ve already had three full moons to be poetic.”
“And here you’ve only had one full hour to be so annoying…”
Peter trailed off and Stiles started harassing him again, but you pushed yourself up to look at him. You’d spent enough time with him over the summer to know when something was up. “Peter?”
“What are the walls made of?” He got off the couch and walked over to the plans that were strewn across the table. You and Stiles shared a look before following him. The walls were made of hecatolite and Peter looked very worried. You started digging for your phone to call Scott when Stiles took his out and beat you to it.
The stone kept them from feeling the effects of the full moon as long as they’d been kept there because it scattered the moonlight, and that meant that if Stiles and Scott were in there with Boyd and the girl that they’d be killed. The call cut out and Scott’s end was full of growls and fighting noises. You shook your head and mumbled about how you had to leave.
“I have to go help them,” you said, pulling away from them. “I’m gonna get Isaac and-”
Stiles grabbed your arm and you winced - it was the one Isaac had injured earlier. He let go immediately and apologized. “You can’t, okay? Scott and Derek can handle them but they’ll kill you.”
“Stiles, I can’t just sit here. They’re gonna kill my brother!”
“Look, I know it looks like that, but-”
“So are you two dating or ...?” You stopped arguing to glare at Peter. He looks exasperatedly at you. “What’s the deal with all the hand-holding and teenage angst?”
“No, okay?” You recovered before Stiles did, but the two of you were still holding non-injured hands. “We’re not dating. We’re just-”
“We’re close, alright?” Stiles finished for you. “And what do you care anyway?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “I don’t. But the racing teenage hearts are getting really old.”
“Then I’ll get out of your hair.” You gave Peter a sickly sweet smile and slipped out of Stiles’ grip to go help your brother, ignoring his protests.
---
Thankfully, Scott and Derek were still alive by the time the four of you had met up in the woods, unfortunately, that was about all the good news they had. Cora and Boyd were attacking just about everyone and everything they came into contact with, and right now you guys were just trying to minimize their collateral damage. And if that wasn’t enough, Stiles had called and told you guys that he and Lydia found a dead body by the public pool, but it didn’t make sense for it to be Boyd and Cora’s because that was on the other side of town.
“We need help,” Scott said eventually.
“We have Isaac and Y/N now.” Derek counting you in as help made you feel a bit better about yourself, but you knew you guys were in over your heads.
“I mean real help.”
Isaac was about to say something but you put your hand on his arm to stop him. “I agree. Derek’s the only one with real experience here, and - no offense - it’s kind of limited when it comes to tracking them,” you said.
Scott nodded, thankful for your help, but Derek still needed some convincing. “They’re too fast for us. For all of us. They’re too strong, too rabid-”
“We’ll catch ‘em.” Derek was shaking his head. You didn’t think he could deal with much more after losing Erica. Honestly, you weren’t sure if any of you could.
“What happens if we do?” Isaac asked. “Are we just gonna hold them down until the sun comes up?”
“Maybe … maybe we should just kill them.”
“No!” you snapped.
“Killing them isn’t the right thing to do,” Scott said.
“What if it’s the only thing to do?” Isaac asked. “If we can’t even catch them, what else do we do?”
“We can’t even catch them, and you dummies think you can kill them?” You shook your head and started walking away. You planned to make a loop and come back after blowing off steam, but Scott caught your arm so you stood next to him
“We just need someone who knows what they’re doing.” He tried to smooth things over. “Someone who knows how to hunt werewolves.”
---
Scott wanted to talk to Chris on his own, so you waited in the car with Derek and Isaac. You had your feet propped up on the dashboard, curling into the spare jacket Derek kept in the car. You’d told them to wake you up if Scott got shot.
“So, your, uh… your sister…” You opened your eyes when you heard Isaac’s voice from the back. You didn’t want to miss Derek’s reaction to this. He turned in his seat and gave Isaac the harshest death glare you’ve ever seen; you tried not to laugh. “Sorry, yeah. It’s-” he cleared his throat nervously “-Bad timing. I’m sorry.” Derek turned back to face the front, but not before catching you spying on them. “I’ll ask later. It’s fine.”
You laughed so hard when Derek turned around again that you had to readjust yourself in the seat. Isaac eventually settled on never asking about Cora and you felt human again. “Hey- hey, guys.” You hit Derek’s shoulder lightly to get his attention. “They’re moving. Let’s go.”
Scott took Chris past the pool so he could see the kid they’d found. It seemed that even though Scott’s words hadn’t convinced him, the dead body did. He agreed to help and he showed everyone the equipment they’d be using and how to use it before giving everyone jobs. You were going to work together to herd Boyd and Cora into the school. Since you couldn’t run at werewolf-speed, Chris agreed to let you drive in the car with him.
“So you’re not a werewolf,” he said, halfway into a very silent ride to school.
“Is that a question?” He didn’t find your joke very funny so you continued. “No. Derek offered but, uh … I like being human.”
He nodded, quiet again for a few moments. “And they’re training you?”
“Yep.” You rolled down the window when he stopped to drop one of the ultrasonic emitters into the ground. The lacrosse jersey had ridden up your arm when you moved and Chris caught a look at the scratches on your arm. You pulled the sleeve down and gave a nervous smile when you sat back down. He didn’t say anything until you guys stopped at the school.
“I’ll, uh, need to talk to Allison about it, of course, but-” He pulled the handbrake up, looking for the right words for what he wanted to say. “Would you be willing to let me train you - like a hunter?”
You felt the corners of your mouth turn up and you leaned over the armrest and gave him a hug. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Argent!” You pulled away and grinned at him. “I love Derek but he’s way better at training werewolves. Don’t get me wrong, he’s taught me a lot but-”
“Right.” Chris cut you off with a smile and an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Let’s finish this and we can, uh, talk about that later.”
About twenty minutes would reveal that the plan wasn’t going phenomenally, but it was going. Boyd and Cora were going over the school, but you’d managed to draw them inside so that Scott and the others could trap them in the boiler room. You were out of breath and shaky by the time you met up with Isaac again, and he was busy checking to see if you were okay when you looked outside the window.
“Isaac, the sun’s coming up.” You turned to look at him. “The sun’s rising, you gotta tell Scott!”
“I’m not leaving you. You look like you’re gonna puke,” Isaac said, always the gentleman.
“Isaac, you’re faster than me. Go tell Scott and I’ll meet you there now.” He still seemed reluctant. “Go!” You watched him run down the hall and turn the corner. You took a deep breath and found him and Scott carrying out Boyd and Cora. You helped get them into Derek’s car, but when Scott got a call from Stiles saying to come down to the hospital, you left with him to see what was going on.
---
“So Boyd and Cora might not have killed anyone?” Scott asked as Stiles covered Heather’s dead body.
“You’re gonna wish they did,” Stiles said.
“Why?” you asked, not really sure you wanted the answer.
“I’m not exactly sure yet,” Stiles sighed. “The other girl who was out in the woods - Emily - eventually they’re gonna find her. She’s one of them. Emily, Heather, that guy Lydia found at the pool … all three were virgins. And they’re all gonna have the same three injuries: strangled, throat slashed, head bashed in.”
“The threefold death,” you said quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself. When Scott and Stiles turned to look at you, you shrugged. “What? I read.”
“So if these aren’t random killings,” Scott said slowly, turning back to the table, “Then what are they?”
Stiles took a breath and you shared a look before he answered. “Sacrifices. Human sacrifices.”
The three of you walked out of the hospital slowly, each in your own haze of thoughts. You were supposed to meet Melissa in the parking lot to go home, but you told Scott to go ahead so you could talk to Stiles.
“So what’s up?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.
You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I, uh, just wanted to know when you needed the jersey back. I know you guys have practise tomorrow but laundry’s kinda the last thing I feel like doing right now.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, totally.” Stiles cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Was he nervous?
“So when do you want it back?”
“Uh- you know what? I’ve got a spare I can use until laundry day rolls around, so, uh, you can- you can keep that for now, if you want.”
“Oh, um.” You weren’t expecting that. You looked around awkwardly. “Yeah, that’s great. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem … and, uh, about what Peter said, at the loft …” You were quiet as Stiles tried to finish his sentence. He was looking at you like he was trying to gauge your reaction. “That was weird, right?”
It would’ve been less painful if he punched you in the stomach. “So weird!” you lied enthusiastically.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought!” Stiles threw his hands in the air, almost granting your wish of being punched. “Well, anyway. I should get going. It’s a school night and all that …”
“Right,” you said softly, nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
Part 9
#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles slow burn#stiles stilinksi imagine#mccall!reader#so close#teen wolf#teen wolf au#teen wolf rewrite
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