#emissary stiles

[jade-bright]

Stiles and Peter at any given moment...

Talia: *sigh* then it's decided, Stiles will be joining us in meeting Satomi and if anyone unwanted shows up-

Stiles: Then we sick the attack dog on 'em

Derek: *facepalms*

Peter: *deadpan stare*

-

Laura: I'm going out for a run!

Talia: Sorry, not tonight dear, it's still raining and I don't think either of us are interested in cleaning up the mess that'll be your fur

Peter: Not to worry, I'm sure our resident little spark will be able to make the rain stop, won't you sweetheart

Stiles: *sitting in Derek's lap, the reason it's raining and can't figure out how to stop it, glaring at Peter*

-

But also...

Some anti-human in packs Alpha: And if you're sure that your, "honorary" human can create a strong enough ward then-

Peter: That's "Emissary" for you Alpha ___, and it'd be in your best interest to respect his title if you wish to continue our alliance *smiles cruelly*

Stiles: *standing to the left of Peter, face completely neutral but losing it internally at the alpha and his pack's expressions*

-

Talia: I'll be going myself and that's final, the alphas are seeking my guidance not a fight

Stiles: At least bring Peter, he's your Left hand, was raised knowing the same stuff as you, it would still establish strength, and it'd be less egotistical than you going by yourself

Peter: *lounging on a chair seeming uninterested, but warmed that Stiles sees him on an equal, if not similar, pedestal as his sister*

[biggukuma]

A fanfiction or a series (my god, a series about this) in which Eli explains (in the voiceover for the series?) just how weird his family is.

Starting with Eli's many aunts and uncles, 3/4 of whom share no blood ties with him. ( Yes, the puppy pack is part of the Hale pack. Yes, Alec was Eli's babysitter. )

( Erica and Boyd would have twins about the same age as Eli. Why would that be? I have no idea. )

( For those who love Scott/Isaac/Allison, they would have 4 children. Yes, exactly, so that 3 of them would come from duos and the last one would come into the world thanks to the magic and presence of 3 DNAs. )

(The whole pack would not live in the huge mansion that is the Stilinski-Hale mansion. Thiam and Morey would have their own place. Sheriff would have refused to move in. )

Then his cousins, of all ages, each more unusual and annoying than the last. With whom he shares the same grimaces when they learn that most of their parents have gone out with each other.

( - Sweet Home Alabama-

- Shut up! )

His dziadzia, who had never been angry with him for ruining his wallpaper (he had every reason to be. They were horrible drawings-) and who had taught him to lie to his tata while making him promise never to lie, understood, you little rascal, when they went to get the greasiest order in the whole fast-food restaurant. And his babcia and his abuela and his abuelo and his tias and his tios and his primos and his primas he knew only in grave form.

Finally, his dads, who look like they hate each other half the time or would kill someone if it made the other half smile. His two dads who have criminal records but brunch with the station cops once a month. His two dads who are both biologically men and who have biologically managed to have a child together.

(Eli politely asks anyone who jokes about him being his parents' little shit to fuck off. His dads told him his tata had a C-section, okay ?!)

A fanfic or series in which we discover the famous Hale Pack that has risen from the ashes and is so feared and respected. Where we discover how Eli feels so alienated from the pack he loves and cherishes, so alienated from his family. How Eli feels he's not cut out to be the next Alpha of the pack. How certain Eli is that he'll never be anything like his incredible, powerful, famous dads, no matter how many times he's told he's the spitting image of Stiles or has Derek's eyes and sourwolf face.

Eli sees himself as the boring kid in this extraordinary family, the boring offspring of a rich heir to a famous werewolf pack, a bad boy with a tragic past in his youth, a DILF today with his dad's super skills, a fair and fierce true Alpha (alive and not DEAD) and an FBI agent as sarcastic as he is intelligent, a supernatural detective in his spare time, a fearsome spark, emissary and Alpha mate. Like the good old cliché of the character with no friends but his cousins and an overpowering entourage, so beloved and popular and so much more remarkable and interesting script-wise than he is.

(Perhaps Eli never could and never will be able to shift? Perhaps being human is in part the source of his fear.)

And being the good old cliché that he is, he apparently becomes interesting when he gets superpowers. (Stiles is not at all happy that the Nemeton has chosen him to be its guardian. In fact, no one in his family seems happy. Great.)

[dropofbittersea]

“How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”

Derek despised him.

[takaraphoenix]

Thirteen Truths (and a Lie)

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

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

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

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

@writersmonth Prompts: petal + theater

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

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

Thirteen Truths (and a Lie)

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/break\

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

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

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

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

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

"This is stunning," Kira whispered in awe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You promised no harm-" Stiles growled dangerously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean?" Scott sounded confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course," Derek rumbled softly, reassuring.

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

/break\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You will not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/break\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~ The End ~*~

[sterekbros]

You Led Me Home by Winchesterek | WIP

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Laura Hale, Laura Hale Lives, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Magic, The Magic Box, Magical Bond, Mates, Masturbation, Beta Derek Hale, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is a Softie, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Fluff, Versatile Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Stiles lives in Beacon Hills. He’s always lived in Beacon Hills. He’s a Gajos and he’s descended from his mother’s Emissary line that is tied to the land, which is his to protect. He also happens to run a local magic shop, The Magic Box, and provides locals with plenty of fake magic spells to keep his business afloat; it also caters to his other clientele that come to him for real magic problems. He’s sort of the magic guru, being a druid and all. Enter Derek Hale, back from New York after years away with his sister, Laura. The Hale twins (Laura is a whole 45 seconds older, damnit, which she won’t let Derek forget) haven’t been back to Beacon Hills since their family burned. The Hales have returned to reclaim their family territory and deal with their estate, finally healing the loss they’ve harbored for so long. They also need an Emissary and Stiles doesn’t have an Alpha despite having a rag-tag group of supernatural creatures as his pack.

[stilesdemonbaby]

Patience by acrowb

Summary:

“I need an emissary.” Peter says. Stiles scoffs, but Peter knows he has him, or they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.

Tags: Magical Stiles Stilinski, Alpha & Emissary Relationship(s), Tattoos

Published: 2024-03-31

Words: 3,431

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Intro to The Supernatural: Emissary Hale

Part 1 of my Sterek fic from AO3. There's a fair bit of canon twisting mostly just making it all add up and make sense and leaning into the "Stiles is scary smart and resourceful and some sort of magic to the point The Wild Hunt and the Nogistune saw him as the one to take out to make their job easier" and some other bits that are just for my amusement. Always open to questions and comments and headcanons.

I'm not sure if I'll be doing a tag list for the crossposted works but I'll keep y'all updated on that.

Stiles would be the first to admit that he didn't know much about regular wolf packs (yet) let alone werewolf ones (double yet). But he did know about humans. He knew that humans were complicated beyond their base desires for community and safety and belonging. He knew that humans were resilient and usually only reached their full potential in large groups and communities. And he knew that if humans faced the crazy crap that he and Beacon Hills' resident creatures of the night have there would be friendships forged to last a lifetime and blood oaths to not tell a soul about what they had seen because like hell anyone would ever believe them before they snuck the good liquor out of their parent's cabinets to drown out the shitshow that was their lives now. It's the sort of thing he and Scott would have done before his best friend was bitten and became one of said creatures of the night. He wasn't so sure about part-time wolves. But some of it had to translate over. Because everything (even the supernatural) had rules, had reasoning, had some form of logic behind it. No matter how twisted and arbitrary it may seem to an outsider like himself.

Jackson only became the kanima because the Bite triggered a long-coming identity crisis hopped up on steroids and with deadlier results. Allison was an impressionable, overly sheltered, teenager dealing with her own identity crisis over her sweet doting grandfather being a complete racist psychopath who had raised the aunt she idolized to be an equally racist and psychotic serial killer and sexual predator. Though Stiles wasn't sure how much Gerard had to do with that last one. Erica and Boyd had just wanted to change themselves and their situations and to belong somewhere for once and Derek had offered it to them, he had just left out a few key bits of information that left the two teens feeling lied to and betrayed. And Isaac…

Stiles let out a heavy sigh thinking about the curly-haired pup and the broody alpha he was somehow legally under the care of. Hale couldn't be more than four, maybe five, years older than the rest of them and less than a year before had been on Beacon Hill's Most Wanted list; and he had been entrusted with the care of an underage domestic abuse victim with an attitude problem and abandonment issues? Without even showing proof of a steady income or stable living conditions? Stiles didn't know how he had pulled it off but he figured the kid was probably safer with his Alpha than some family not in-the-know only taking him in for the state paycheck, so he was gonna just let that one be.

That left Lydia. His stunning strawberry-blonde goddess who swept in one day, with Jackson in tow, demanding answers. You couldn't really have Jackson (and apparently Allison) without Lydia Martin. And while before that would have made Stiles ecstatic at the idea of an excuse to spend time with the girl and maybe show her just how integral he, a squishy gangly human, had become in this mismatched group of gorgeous supernatural beings, now it made him sick to his stomach that even with the obvious evidence that she had to be something for the Bite to have not taken or killed her and the fact that she was essentially being courted by a member of the local forming pack, she still seemed to consider herself separate from their supernatural shenanigans. She was so so smart it made Stiles' head spin but gods she was being so infuriatingly dumb.

But that was all okay. Because he got humans for the most part. Humans were laughingly simple if you took the time to observe and break them down. Except humans who moonlighted as broody bossypants alphas with magic eyebrows that disappeared when they went all growly.

"I have no idea what the hell I'm doing."

Stiles scoffed and leaned back in his chair sidled up almost too close to the brooding alpha. Better too close to him than too close to said alpha's leering (undead?) uncle. He wished he knew a way to reverse whatever it was that Lydia had done to bring the creeperwolf back. "You're not a complete failwolf here Hale, just a bit rough around the edges. But we can't smooth them out if you-"

"You don't get it Stiles." Derek grits out and the younger boy's mouth snaps shut. He takes a deep breath and when he opens his eyes they're surrounded by a thin ring of glowing red and his fangs are starting to drop. His shoulders are tense and his hands keep clenching and releasing like he's squeezing a stress ball. "I was never meant to be an Alpha. If I was lucky Laura would have chosen me to be her Second, but even that happening was a long shot. I wasn't raised for leadership. Just wasn't made for it. I just-" He cuts himself off with a frustrated growl and pushes himself back from the table they had all gathered around.

Deaton raises a judgmental eyebrow with a low thoughtful hum and Argent lets out a sigh that speaks to his levels of exasperation and exhaustion as the young alpha broodily storms out of the room. But not Peter. Peter just chuckles and leans back in his seat with a lazy stretch as he looks around at the tired faces of those gathered.

"Well, that took longer than I expected."

"Could you just not right now Peter?" Stiles sighs. He gets up, making his way around the table towards the kitchen. Peter watches the usually spastic Spark as he putters about his nephew's new and surprisingly fully furbished kitchen, pulling out the fixings for coffee and tea and enough mugs for the men he had finally managed to coerce a 'formal' sit down with.

"Come now Spark, you can't tell me that you haven't been expecting something like that since he bit the first of his pups." Deaton and Chris sigh at his cheek but he grins at the low, almost wolf-like, growl he gets from the teenager as he digs through the refrigerator. "Although I suppose it could have been worse. At least my nephew seems to have moved on from his ridiculous 'anger for an anchor' phase and his damned guilt complex to something more stable to go along with his shiny new pack and those fresh bonds to keep him nice and grounded."

"Wait," Stiles tenses as Argent speaks up. The boy's back is not quite to the men seated at the worn table but still turned away enough they can't really see his face. "Are you telling me that Hale bit children while his anchor was fucking anger?" Peter sees the way Stiles took deep measured breaths and rolled his wrists, clenching his fists as the smell of ozone started to fill the room. He licks his lips. "And this is the man- the kid you expect us to be okay with running this territory?"

Deaton hums, turning to face Argent but his eyes resting on Stiles' tense shoulders just a moment too long, one hand trailing down to fiddle with a leather corded bracelet on his wrist. So that was where the smell of herbs and stale magic was coming from. "Though I share many of your reservations about Mr. Hale's driving logic behind his choice in Betas and his, still fairly relevant, issues concerning proper anchors and control. I must confess that he has shown more promise in the last few weeks than I had ever expected from him, especially considering how Talia used to worry over him before the fire."

Argent scoffs and Peter can feel the eye roll from here. "Excuse me if I don't take that as a shining recommendation for his Alpha potential."

"You should." Stiles' voice is low and dark and makes a delightful shiver roll down Peter's spine. He wonders if Argent felt it even as Deaton goes impossibly still and fiddles with that damned charm wrapped about his wrist. Stiles doesn't look at any of them as he picks the tray of refreshments he had put together up off the kitchen counter and turns to make his way back to the table. The druid pointedly does not look at the boy until he's taken a seat. "Druids tend to be cryptic, stubborn, almost possessive and territorial as wolves and overall, kinda petty. They like their 'balance' and their 'traditions' and generally dislike anything that disrupts the status quo too much. They're not likely to help anyone they don't have strong ties or sworn loyalties to or just offend their stuffy sensibilities. So that's the closest you're gonna get to a glowing endorsement from our good Dr. Deaton." His eyes flash almost Beta gold for a second as they rake over the three men. Long fingers wrap about a mug and clutch it close to his chest as he leans back in his chair, the piece of furniture creaking in protest at the teen's abuse of it's function. Peter waits until the boy takes his first sip before grabbing one of the mugs for himself. "Though I have to admit, a druid on a first name basis with the Alpha on who's territory they reside but no one else in the pack seemed to know? Reeks of an Emissary to me." Deaton's eyes are dull and bored but Peter can hear his heartrate spiking as Stiles' hands flex around his mug the smell of ozone spiking for a moment and steam begins to slowly rise from it before he takes a sip. The druid's fingers clench around his bracelet. "So that honestly raises a few questions for me. Questions that I told myself I wasn't going to ask while Derek was here because I'm not sure he's ready for the answers. Questions I probably shouldn't ask with zombiewolf in the room, but we've got Argent here if he decides to go Holy Vengeance mode again."

"I'm not entirely sure I wholly understand what you're implying Mr. Stilinski. Yes, I was Talia's Emissary and I handled most of the family's legal affairs after the fire, but I hardly see what questions that would raise that Derek cannot-"

"Alpha Hale." Stiles' voice is polite and his tone pleasant but his eyes are flashing again, his smile a little too much a baring of teeth to Peter's instincts.

"Excuse me?"

Stiles shrugs, "You're not Emissary anymore. Honestly, your loyalties are still undeclared far as I can tell. And you haven't approached the standing Alpha -Alpha of the pack you swore to serve and protect, mind you- to formally introduce yourself and petition for permission to continue your residence in his territory. At this point you, my dude, are kinda up there with Denethor. Technically someone of note but lookin' kinda power hungry and only out for your own gain overall but still 'civic-minded' and sticking to an advisory role enough to bear the argument that you do what you do for the people. Which I don't really buy, like, at all... So maybe more Wormtongue? Anyway, my point is that while Derek won't force the issue, I have no such qualms." His smile turns sharp and predatory. It makes Argent squirm and his scent go nervous sour and it makes something in Peter rise up in anticipation. "Druid Deaton, while you reside on Hale Land you will show Derek Hale the respect he is due as Alpha of this territory and a son of the Hale line. Your service to the family of Hale under Alpha Talia has been found lacking and -should you choose to remain- you are compelled to defend your actions leading up to and directly following the demise of your Alpha and her pack, whose safety you had been charged with."

Deaton's impassive façade begins to crack and his voice is strained as he almost sneers at the boy. "I don't know what you think you understand about this world you seem so intent on being a part of Mr. Stilinski but there are forces at work that are older than Beacon Hills and more powerful than even blood as old as the Hale's." Stiles' smile hasn't left his face, if anything it's just turned more smug. Argent is writing something in an old worn journal and Peter would laugh and make a joke at the idea of the man taking notes if he wasn't more focused on the (one-sided) power struggle. "This land is powerful and steeped in magic beyond even my comprehension. You are out of your depth boy. This isn't a game. Just who do you think you are to speak for Alpha Hale when he isn't here?"

Stiles chuckles and leans back in his chair, taking another drawn out drag of his still steaming drink. "I am Miecyslaw Casmir Stilinski, Spark and defender of Beacon County and member of the Hale Pack under Alpha Derek Hale." He smiles slow and sharp and the air around him grows heavy with the more and more familiar feeling of the boy's magic. Peter can feel when Deaton's little charm crumbles and gets swept away, leaving the Druid open to outside forces and magics. He can see when Stiles registers what just happened by the predatory glint in his eye. "My friends call me Stiles. But you, Druid Deaton, you may call me Emissary Hale."

[sterekxhale]

tagged by @rosieposiepuddingnpie​ <3

i’ve been all over the place with my wips, but i wrote this scene this morning because i couldn’t get it out of my head. set in my road to ruin universe:

“Claudia, he’s going to be fine,” Talia said. Her voice the same calm and directive tone she used with her betas who were out of control. “He’s going to be great.”

She looked down at her baby in her arms, only two weeks old with squished eyes as he slept and a dusting of fine dark hair, and she felt all the things a new mom feels—absolute love and adoration, the willingness to sacrifice anything to protect him, and fear of what would come of him, of what the world would do to him.

“He’s powerful, I can feel it.”

“Which means he’ll be able to protect himself,” Talia said. 

“He’ll draw the attention of others, and I might not be here to stop them.”

“The Hales will always protect their own.”

Together, they watched the Hale children run around the yard, chasing each other with vibrant yellow eyes and giggles. The youngest tackled her brother to the ground as their older sister egged her on, counting the seconds like it was an official wrestling match.

“If you could take that part of your children away and ensure their safety, wouldn’t you?” she asked.

Talia didn’t answer.

no pressure tags: @ohhalefire @exlibrisfangirl @mindofmim @myulalie

[stereksthings]

i need a fic on this like asap …

An emissary’s main job has always been to keep a pack connected to their humanity. However, as a group of bold hunters learn the hard way after capturing feral werewolves living far away from civilisation, the Hale pack’s emissary has barely any humanity in himself to begin with.

[ghostieblr]

Peter's Vows

When Derek is born, there is an earthquake. Beacon Hills is many things, but it is not a place of earthquakes. This is an anomaly, this sudden shaking of the land, and Peter watches Talia go through the pain of birthing a cub, and he makes note of how her cries resonate with the moving earth. As the baby is brought to the world of the living, the earth shakes more; giddy, Peter thinks of the land. Giddy at this baby's birth. That's what it is.

The town reels with the destruction, however minimal it seems to be. It is the strangeness of the earthquake that has the people in a panic, and it takes two days of Mayor Yukimura calling for council meetings and community barbecues that they begin to somehwat calm down.

The baby is named Derek on the first day itself, born underneath the Nemeton, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight in silver hues. Talia sobs with relief, Nathan beside her, stroking her hair. Laura is back at the pack house, safely tucked in the bed, the rest of the pack members keeping watch. Talia had wanted to bring her with them, fearing the worst of the anomaly, but their mom had convinced her to not do it. The birth of the Alpha's cub is a big deal, but it is also private: only the Mate, Emissary and Left Hand are allowed to be present, for comfort, safety, and protection, respectively.

It has been tradition since ages, and Talia is the last person to break it.

Derek is a calm baby. Sleeps through the night, doesn't cry for attention. Only does it for feeding, his survival instinct as strong as his lungs. Peter adores him, even if he may never admit it to anyone.

He is also curious about the boy. Why an earthquake? It cannot be a coincidence. Truly, he wonders how some people can be so dumb. Calling it a coincidence is insulting to the Powers That Be, which must have called upon such a natural reaction of the land for a reason. Derek is a special boy, and Peter vows to find out how.

Besides his incredibly compassionate heart, that is.

It is in his eyes, which have slowly turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, the kindness of him. Derek's trust is not so easily earned, but once it is, it is extremely difficult to dislodge it.

Derek is a boy destined to become a kind man, one that will be an Alpha with mercy in his heart but cunning in his mind. Peter sees the makings of it right from the beginning, the way the boy will procure solutions to his own problems as well as those he deems important to him. Laura is the first born and thus has the claim to being the next Hale Alpha, however Peter knows, somehow, perhaps instinctually, that Derek will be the Alpha.

Another piece of the puzzle falls in place when their emissary falls pregnant. She's an amazing woman, Claudia. Peter likes her wit and humor, and he enjoys the perspective of her husband, the deputy, and if luck is on his side, soon-to-be Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Peter is happy for the couple.

He is, also, astonished to see an almost five-year-old Derek climb onto Claudia's lap one morning, his small fists rubbing against his eyes, and his nose scrunching determinedly to find a scent.

Peter remembers the conversation well.

"Derek, honey? What are you trying to find?"

"Mine," is what Derek growls in reply to Claudia, and shoves his nose against her barely-showing belly.

Peter's laughing figure is shot out of the end of the couch and onto the floor by Claudia's impeccable throw of one of the decorative pillows from said couch.

Thereafter, it was peculiar but not unseemly to find Derek following beside Claudia, his whole little being focused on the life forming inside her. And when the night came, Peter wasn't at all surprised to witness the thunderstorm.

Claudia had plans of giving birth in the hospital, but due to miscalculated steps, or simply because of reasons not privy to them, the best possible option left for her seemed to be below the Nemeton.

John had lost his damn mind at the prospect. "It's raining! Heavily!"

"Talia gave birth in an earthquake," Claudia says through gritted teeth, "And the baby doesn't care, nor do I, John. It is—"

Her words are cut off by another scream, and she is right, of course. It is time.

Talia, John, and Peter are the only ones who should go with her, but Derek, the little sneaky wolf that he seems to have become, follows them. It isn't until halfway through that John, the human, realizes his presence first.

They move forward with the determined little boy, who is all sopping wet in his wolf onesie, and really, this is no laughing matter. Except it is.

Claudia is brought below the Nemeton, and the tree, big and branching and beautiful, hums in their presence. The canopy of it sheds them some, but not completely.

And so, under hard rain and sharp thunderstorms, Mieczysław Stilinski is born, his little body almost white under the moonlight, and his eyes, when they open, a shock of topaz, like a glinting jewel; a fallen angel, Peter thinks.

Derek carefully wraps the baby in the blanket Talia removes from the packed bag, her movements locked onto her son's and the baby's, while John tends to his wife.

Peter watches. He notes the way the baby is calmest in Derek's arms, the way Derek is mesmerized.

This is more than just being True Mates.

True Mates itself are the rarest of occurrences, but something tells him this is more than that. The earthquake, and this sudden rain, in April of all things, simply cannot be coincidence. There must be a reason, one that Peter must uncover.

In the coming years, he dedicates his time to the quest, and finds that, oh, this is something unique indeed.

Unique to the point of legend.

Of course, he gathers facts before telling anyone. Derek's control goes onto the list, as does his ability to switch between his shift as easy as breathing. Having such control at the age of seven is almost impossible, but he has it without the growing ego that would have inflated anyone else's with the amount of praise he gets.

Stiles, as Derek had nicknamed Mieczysław almost immediately post his arrival in the world, is no human. His mother's line has some pretty strong magical abilities, but the kind of power that this boy exudes surpasses imagination. Nobody notices at first, not even Peter, until Stiles is a couple of months past his third birthday. It truly isn't until Derek, almost nine, comes down from his room one day into the kitchen, says, "Which packet, Stiles?" that they realize it.

"Honey, he isn't a wolf. He cannot hear you," Nathan tells him, but Derek just shrugs.

"He is for today."

Peter hears the, "Blue one! Blue one! Blue is sooo pretty, Derek!" from Stiles, who is definitely sitting in Derek's room, upstairs.

Derek grabs the blue packet and goes upstairs, and Peter follows, followed by Talia and Nathan, who beckon Claudia as well.

Stiles sitting on the floor, a myriad of toys around him, while the packets of chips sit beside him, torn open, evidently by Derek's claws, who himself is playing with Stiles.

And they're both being fed flying chips.

The three wolves turn to Claudia as one. Her shaking head and awed face is enough to clue them in, and really, Peter thinks, this is fucking incredible.

Powers don't manifest as early as this in magic wielders. They're more of the puberty package, tied to emotions at the beginning rather than will.

This is... defying it.

Peter loves to see when the next piece of the puzzle will fall.

And it does oh so enticingly.

Years later, when Derek is fourteen and Stiles is almost nine, comes the first trial. The Alpha Summit & The Argent Treaty.

Peter doesn't believe Gerard's words to do no harm, so he sets up precautions in place. It pays off, because during the summit, he almost ends up blinding Deaucalion — something that could have turned super bad if left unchecked.

Gerard's attack is met with swift retaliation, but somehow, only his goons end up dead. Gerard himself remains free, and through sheer will, maybe, the old man manages to kidnap Laura.

By the time the adults sniff out their cub, they're too late.

Not in the sense of Laura being hurt, but in the terms of missing the action, somewhat.

When they enter the warehouse, they are faced with Gerard being held down by a black wolf, fangs around his neck, the eyes of the creature a deep, ruby red. Deeper than Talia's. At first, they all assume it to be one of the visiting Alphas, but then they realize Stiles' presence, too, and it clicks.

Stiles frees Laura from the painful looking electric rod, and comes back to Derek, coaxes him back to his human form as Peter and Nathan take care of the psychopath.

Laura lets Talia mother her, and then says, "We'll have two Alphas."

Talia looks at the now human Derek, and eyes shining with pride, she nods. "Come here, both of you," she beckons, and the boys run, Stiles' chattering a comforting sound for all of them.

A few weeks later, Derek admits to everyone he has a new friend, and talks about her often. Paige this, Paige that. Laura teases him, restrained in her words, trying not to upset Derek's control. Even Cora pulls back. Stiles, though, is almost worse.

He riles Derek to the point of him using his Alpha voice to shut up, and the whole Pack silences itself, even Talia. Stiles, though — an exception to all things sane — doesn't back down. The voice doesn't work on him, and Derek isn't phased by it. However, the smell of guilt filters through their home, and Stiles' sigh is followed by comforting words. There is no apologizing though.

Soon, they'll learn from Derek himself that he hates that everyone is walking on eggshells. That is why he kept bringing up Paige, so that someone would tease him, uncle Peter, Laura, Cora. Or that Stiles would rile him up.

"Why would he, though? He should be happy for you. I am." Cora's words are met with a laugh from Derek, and a groan of embarrassement from Stiles.

"He's weirdly possessive — don't push me, you know you are."

"Alright," Stiles sighs, "I am."

"And Paige is a great friend, but I don't nearly think about her as much as I might have let you all believe."

And that is when Peter sees it. The blink-and-you-will-miss-it purple flash of Stiles' eyes. Peter doesn't put thought into why now; he simply focuses on completing the puzzle.

And he does. True Alpha and Purple Eyes? That's easy.

That's legend.

Set in stone as the first Alpha and the first Emissary as well as Spark, who, arguably, also set in stone the sword of Excalibur.

That part of the legend has questionable sources, though. Sure, Merlin Emrys is, as per theories, the most powerful sorcerer of all time, and Arthur Pendragon the greatest ruler, the once and future king, but it doesn't have as much merit.

What Peter is sure about is that somehow, the Powers That Be decided that this is the pack to send these two to.

He watches Stiles argue about the best type of pasta with Derek, and thinks, suddenly, that perhaps this is their happy ending. What legends end happy? None. So this must be their time to be happy.

Peter vows another quest, then. To always protect Derek and Stiles.

[hedwig221b]

high school/college witch Stiles who learned magic with his mother and she always taught him to use his power for good and not for selfish reasons, and after his mother died he always remembered her teachings.

But then he meets Derek and there's always girls basically throwing themselves at him despite Derek making it clear that he's not interested, and so he begins using some spells to play pranks on those girls, like really low level stuff, like dropping drinks on them, making them itch, or even a weak laxative, and he feel so guilty because he thinks he's being selfish by pushing those girls away from Derek, and going against everything his mother taught him, and that Derek will hate him if he ever finds out what Stiles is doing.

meanwhile Derek is completely aware of what Stiles is doing, and thinks it's really cute how possessive Stiles is, though unlike Stiles he feels no guilt in removing any guy that even looks twice in Stiles direction.

JEALOUS OBLIVIOUS WITCH STILES YES!!!! POSSESSIVE DEREK WHO'S HEAD OVER HEELS FOR STILES AND DOESN'T HIDE IT YES!!!

Everything in this ask is perfection 👌🏻 chef's kiss 💋

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi! I love your page and I’m hoping you can help me 🫶🏿 I’m looking for a fic where for some reason Stiles dies sometimes? And one day Derek finds Stiles dead (or maybe he dies in front of Derek?) and when Stiles comes back to life Derek kills him again because he doesn’t believe it’s him. My favorite part about the fic is that Stiles doesn’t forgive Derek right away. I hope this is enough lol

Hi @xxcuriosity! Anon says it's this one.

False Dawn (Stiles, it's called zodiacal light) by ElisAttack

(3/3 I 11,145 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles wakes up in the middle of the woods with no memory of how he got there.

Or the one where Stiles can't die, but people keep hurting him anyway.

[uselessgirl87]

Correct title: 20: The Wedding

Home Is Where the Spark Is 20: Emissary by Just Jim and Useless-girl

Note: This is the 20th part of the “Home Is Where the Spark Is” series. To understand better what’s going on, we recommend reading the previous entries. Enjoy!

Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Sterek

Characters/relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Scott McCall/Malia Tate (mentioned), Melissa McCall/Chris Argent, Sheriff Noah Stilinski, Jordan Parrish, Alan Deaton, original characters

Rating/category: supernatural, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, slash, M/M, Sterek, aged up characters, Spark Stiles, Magic Stiles, Emissary Stiles, Emissary in training Stiles, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, Alpha Derek, epic romance, love, magic, soulmates, Mate bond, Emissary bond, werewolves, emotions, near panic attack, friendship, wit, sarcasm, wedding, wedding night, smut, striptease, roleplay, ass play, oral sex, anal sex, rough sex, knotting, breeding, switch Derek, switch Stiles

Summary: The long-awaited day of the wedding finally arrives and is followed by a hot wedding night.

Disclaimer: This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures or edits and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

————————————–

Picture credit: unknown artist

To read the story on AO3, please, click HERE!

[dropofbittersea]

Scott liked to call it the Great Pack Divide of 2012.

Derek liked to call Scott an idiot.

(Or the one where Derek kidnaps Stiles to teach Scott a lesson, and ends up learning a few things himself)

[takaraphoenix]

They really gave Stiles magic for one episode and we all, collectively and rightfully so, assumed they'd do, you know, virtually anything at all with it so we took it and ran with it and fleshed it out beautifully and have hundreds of thousands of words written on Spark!Stiles and how his magic potential could have come into play in the show.

Meanwhile the writers room of the show were collectively picking their noses and brainstorming the worst ways to kill off beloved characters in dumbass plotlines.

[feelsforsterek]

↳ TRUE ALPHA DEREK HALE SUPREMACY!!