#dargent

[haletostilinski]

Best Teen Wolf Ship: Round 1

[beaconfeels]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you to the marvelous @lucky-bishop for the tag this week. I’m tagging @clareguilty @nickcharleswife @punchedbymarkesmith and @mirrorthoughts if any of you are working on something you want to share :) Here’s a random snippet from a steter fic I’m working on:

Christmas is bittersweet for Stiles. He loves it, but there’s always an edge of sadness to it too. He supposes it’s probably that way for everyone who has lost people, and even a lot of people who haven’t.

When he was younger, he tried to cover it up with frantic, jolly energy. Dragging his dad or his friends to multiple holiday events, laughing too loud, drinking too much spiked eggnog, and buying extravagant gifts he couldn’t afford for crushes who didn’t appreciate him.

It’s different now. In the past couple years he’s let himself feel it more, and the holiday season has settled down into something less sparkling, but also more genuine.

Right now he’s meandering through the woods with Derek, looking for things to use for a wreath.

Derek’s carrying a big straw basket with a red and green plaid bow on the handle to put things in. It’s adorable. He loves that his alpha is a Christmas nerd, and he loves even more that he’s able to enjoy the holiday again after so many years of pain.

“So, are you and Chris going to do anything over Christmas?” Stiles asks.

Derek’s cheeks immediately flush. He always blushes when Stiles asks about them at all. It’s hilarious.

“Allison is going to hang out with some friends on Christmas Eve so uh, he invited me over.”

“Ooooh Christmas Eve together? That sounds seeeerious,” Stiles teases.

“Do you think so?” Derek asks, looking kind of terrified.

“Would that be a bad thing?”

Derek looks down and smiles a little, cheeks flushing even more red. “I don’t- it would- it’s cool,” he finishes lamely.

Stiles laughs as he picks up a particularly nice pine cone and adds it to the basket. “Hey, I’m happy for you, you know? You deserve it.”

“I like him a lot,” Derek admits, that shy smile growing even as he still refuses to meet Stiles’s eyes.

His alpha is such a marshmallow under all that leather. He loves it.

“Hey, what do you get someone for Christmas who can buy themselves whatever they want?” Stiles asks a few minutes later.

“Thinking about Peter?” Derek asks.

“What? No. I mean. I didn’t say that.”

“Uh huh. Well I think that ‘someone’ would like something personal from you. Something he—I mean ‘they’ since obviously I have no idea who this mysterious person is—couldn’t just buy with money.”

“I take it back. You’re not adorable at all.”

Derek’s eyebrows lift. “You never said that in the first place.”

“Well I thought it,” Stiles says, pouting, “and now I’m taking it back.”

“What a tragedy,” Derek says, “However will I get over it?”

[lgraewrites]

Trying to get back into writing more one shots. Requests are open for my Howl at the Moon collection. Feel free to submit a request/prompt, and I'll do my best to fulfill it.

[oldschoolfrp]

Dargent the silver dragon and Silvart the Kagonesti elf (Diana Magnuson, AD&D Dragonlance module DL9: Dragons of Deceit by Douglas Niles, TSR, 1985)

[moths-in-hats]

Je t'épouse

Written for @teenwolfrarepairevents Day 4: Season 3 - Married in a Hurry

Read on AO3

“What do you mean we have to get married?”

Chris hadn’t stopped frowning since he’d suggested the idea. “It’s hunter law.”

“Why does hunter law mean we have to get married?” Derek asked.

“Marriage gives you immunity. If we’re going to be going to a hunter council, you’re going to need immunity.”

“Immunity? What happened to ‘We hunt those who hunt us’?”

“Some hunters take a more… laissez-faire approach to the code. But it’s not about that. Only hunters are welcome at hunter councils - you’d be executed for trespassing.”

Derek considered this. He might not have always made the right decisions but he did have a pragmatism learned from years of fighting for survival. He knew they needed whatever help they could get, he knew the teens were dealing with a dark force beyond their control, he knew Chris cared for them (it was one of Derek’s favourite qualities about him), knew that Chris would go alone if Derek didn’t agree, and knew that was dangerous. “Okay,” Derek agreed. “Let’s get married."

The plan had first been discussed two days ago. It was Argent's idea. Noshiko might have lots of information on nogitsunes but one thing she didn't know was how to trap one. Argent didn't either but there was an annual hunter council coming up and he knew one of the clans had experience with kitsunes. Not nogitsunes specifically but at this point they needed all the help they could get.

The only thing was after the recent near-death experiences — Scott, Ethan and Boyd trying to kill themselves and Derek trying to kill Argent — the pack, even the adults, had developed a buddy system of sorts. No one was supposed to go anyway alone if it could be avoided and that included exclusive hunter conferences. Derek, of course, had been the first to volunteer. It seemed the hunter and the wolf were always together these days, an interesting development considering the start of their relationship.

With Derek's consent, the only thing left was to plan and execute a wedding in the week before the conference.

"Does hunter law say anything about how we get married?" Derek asked.

Chris nodded and began explaining.

The wedding was held two days later, an appropriately quiet affair given the situation. Allison was there, wearing a sweet blue dress and whispering something in her father's ear that made him shoot daggers at her. Deaton officiated because of course the druid was qualified to officiate weddings. They got through most of the ceremony without issue and then Allison brought forward the rings. Chris took one of them and made eye contact with Derek. He slipped the ring onto Derek's thumb. "In nomine Patris," He murmured and then moved the ring to Derek's index finger. "Et filii." And then Derek's middle finger. "Et Spiritus Sancti." And finally Derek's ring finger. "Je t'épouse." When he finished, he gave Derek a small smile and Derek knew it was his turn.

He took the other ring and repeated the ritual with Chris' fingers, doing his best not to tremble as their hands brushed. He kept his eyes on Chris' hand, unable to face looking the other man in the eye while he did this. Derek had been practising his words in the mirror all morning and it paid off. "Je t'épouse," He finished and only then did he meet Chris' eyes.

Deaton cleared his throat. Derek had nearly forgotten he was even there, less than a foot away from them. "I now pronounce you married," Deaton announced.

Chris broke out into a proper smile, almost uncharacteristic in its warmth. Derek smiled back reflexively.

This is going to be a long week, He thought to himself.

[postcard-from-the-past]

L'Etoile-d'Argent Hotel in Lacanau-Océan, Guyenne region of France

French vintage postcard, mailed in 1937 to Draveil

[scerek]

I think Chris Argent likes to wear sexy pink panties to tease Derek. I think Chris would look great in a tight pair of panties, the butt hair sticking out of Chris's panties would drive Derek insane.

And Chris rocking his hips back and forth. Derek would just be sitting across the room, trying to concentrate on his research and Chris will pretend like he's also doing research but he really just desperately wants Derek to fuck him over the table in his loft.

[mythical-art]

Les Lavandieres de la Nuit (The Washerwomen of the Night) c.1861 by Jean Edouard Dargent

[bipizzapringle]

first base is wound tending second base is hand touching

[weirdlookindog]

Jean Edouard Dargent (1824–1899) - Les Lavandières de la nuit (The Washerwomen of the Night), c. 1861

[marypickfords]

Requiem pour un vampire (Jean Rollin, 1971)

[mysterious-secret-garden]

Yan' Dargent - The Washerwomen of the Night, 1861.

[enchantedbook]

'Horse as Big as an Elephant', Artist : Yan Dargent from the book : Contes Bleus, 1864

[pierppasolini]

Requiem pour un Vampire (1971) // dir. Jean Rollin

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Satan in the Frozen Lake - Jean Edouard Dargent, 1870.

[twirld]

Frederic Lix (Yan' Dargent)