#especially when stiles isn’t “human but don’t know it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamlandforever · 2 years ago

Text

The Devil You Know

(Sterek | Teen and Up | 13k)

AO3 link

I wrote my first Sterek for the "'What‘s a Stiles?" Sterek April event, based on the Prompt "Unhinged Stiles" and "Derek gets kidnapped", I hope you like it!

Summary:

“When was the last time you spoke to Derek?”

He was not expecting that question.

When was the last time he spoke to Derek? They spoke every day. They have spoken every day for six years. Sometimes Stiles calls, sometimes Derek does. But it happens daily, even if it is only for a few minutes.

But the thing is, Stiles doesn’t know what day it is. This case has been the entirety of his focus lately.

“What day is today?”

She doesn’t hesitate, too used to Stiles being…Stiles. “Tuesday”.

Fuck. Stiles missed work.

Wait. If it was Tuesday…

“Lydia.” He speaks as calmly and clearly as he is able to, which is not much. “Where. Is. Derek?.”

Tuesday.

There are a lot of things that Stiles prides himself in. Granted, most of them are illegal and kind of frown upon by the FBI, but he still knew how to get the job done. Research is one of them, and, fortunately for him, is also a skill very much appreciated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Especially because they didn’t know what Stiles’ preferred methods were, exactly.

The red yarn strewn all over his shoe-box apartment seems to belong to another lifetime. The only thing keeping him kind of in the present is the whiteboard he got for cheap on eBay, which also happens to double as the divider between his kitchenette and living room. FBI Stiles did not have to cover his walls in tacks, no, sir. FBI Stiles had a slightly better set up. Also, his landlord is not very fond of holes in the wall. Stiles may or may not have a little issue trying to hang a picture a few weeks after he moved in.

If he took a deep breath, he could really see himself transported back to his room in Beacon Hills. The coffee he was brewing was the same brand he had always used, the feel of the yarn was all too familiar to his hands, the pain on his lower back and the headache caused by sleep deprivation felt just like home. He wasn’t sure when was the last time he slept, but he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. From the state of the table and the marks on his cheek, he had fallen asleep at some point, so good for him. He let himself be transported back to his room, when he himself was a kid, and had to fight the Big Bad of the week, and not an FBI man who had to stop a fucking human from killing children, on top of thinking of the next Big Bad.

Which is why, it took a while for Stiles to realize that the buzzing wasn’t in his head, and he wasn’t just hallucinating it. He looked around his kitchen table, slowly blinking himself into reality. He can’t even tell how long he has been working, but it has been long enough for his blinking to actually hurt, and the pounding of his head has become more constant. With a sigh he finally finds his phone under a bunch of folders he isn’t sure he was even allowed to bring home.

Without even looking at the caller, he answers as fast as he can before the call can go to voicemail. “Hey, Der. I was just about to have dinner, don’t worry. Did you manage to fix that leaking sink? I cannot sleep with that thing, dude, and I am less than a week away from visiting.” He crosses his fingers, hoping he did not miss calls before. Derek does not enjoy when Stiles doesn’t answer his phone.

He is met with only silence. He flinches slightly.

“Breakfast? Was I about to have breakfast?” So maybe he did miss a few calls. And a lot more hours than he originally thought.

“Stiles, I am not Derek.” Lydia’s voice. She is calm and collected. And Lydia is one of Stiles’ comfort people, as well as one of his other regular calls, so he knows that voice.

“What happened?” He never quite mastered Lydia’s ability to remain in control. His voice sounded panicked even to his own ears. He stands up, no longer able to remain on the call while sitting down. His apartment is much too small to really walk away his nerves, but walking in circles will have to do. Was Derek in trouble?

“When was the last time you spoke to Derek?”

He was not expecting that question.

But the thing is, Stiles doesn’t know what day it is. This case has been the entirety of his focus lately.

“What day is today?”

She doesn’t hesitate, too used to Stiles being…Stiles. “Tuesday”.

Fuck. Stiles missed work.

Wait. If it was Tuesday…

“Lydia.” He speaks as calmly and clearly as he is able to, which is not much. “Where. Is. Derek?.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” She asked again, the stress finally showing on her voice.

“Saturday.” His voice came out so soft he wasn’t sure she had even heard him.

He hadn’t spoken to Derek in almost three days. They speak daily. He knows what she is going to say before the words leave her mouth.

“Stiles, Derek is missing.”

The words still feel like lead at the bottom of his stomach. The headache is rapidly turning into a migraine, and it is becoming harder for him to focus.

Derek. His Derek. Gone.

“Since when?” He knows his voice is shaky, but he can’t stop it.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.

There is a pause on the other side of the line, but Stiles doesn’t even notice. His head is going a mile a minute, and he cannot focus enough to comprehend simple facts, such as the passage of time. His entire body seems to have gone into panic mode, in a way it hasn’t for years. He is a man now, he is control of himself.

All bets are off the window when whatever is happening involves Derek, apparently.

“Sunday.”

He could hear ringing in his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind dissociating or if his heart was beating so hard it was deafening. Either way, he didn’t have time for that, so he ignored it.

He knows today is Tuesday.

Derek went missing on Sunday.

And Stiles didn’t notice.

“Why hasn’t anyone called?” But as soon as the questions leaves his mouth, he knows the answer. Suddenly, he needs to hear it. He needs confirmation. Anger is so much easier to control than panic. Stiles wants to be angry. He wants to break something, he wants to take a swing of someone. And he knows just who.

“He said he would handle it. He benched all of us. And Derek usually keeps to himself, but Stiles it has been two days. He isn’t telling us anything.”

Stiles sees red.

#sterek #jwritessometimes #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale

19 notes · View notes

kingofangst · 1 year ago

Text

Alright, despite a long wait here is chapter 3 of TWOAE. This one is a mix of comedy and angst, plus sibling bickering, and a first interaction between the enigmatic Seraph and Stiles.

-Also, I have an AO3 account named Kingofangst_14 and while I do have another teen wolf fanfic posted there, I am putting that one on hold and revamped since I feel that it needs to be better. But this Teen Wolf Fanfic will be my main focus. Enjoy this witty chapter. @rhyslahey @thiamsxbitch @bendystrah @isaac-not-isaac @amatchinwater @phantomraeken

The italics are Seraph’s thoughts whether they are after someone's response or when he is having an internal monologue.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Wings Of An Enigmatic

Chapter 3: Non-Supernatural Threat

Seraph’s sleep schedule was off today. Throughout his life, he never had an off sleep schedule. Despite having no purplish bags under his eyes thanks to his supernatural status, he still felt very exhausted by last night’s events, or rather what the nature of his precognitive abilities showed him last night.

The Alpha killing the movie store clerk, along with exposing Jackson and Lydia to the supernatural partially, left them both emotionally and psychologically scarred.

It is a prominent reaction when one is exposed to the supernatural but not fully knowing the entire details of how such bizarre phenomenon happens, especially when all their lives humans are expected to do things in life: completing school, finding the career path they want, and completing their lives. Process of growth.

To encounter a supernatural alpha werewolf as part of their teenage endeavors as high school students? Not part of the life process. Not part of a human’s life process of growth.

Which is why when Seraph enters school for class, it is an odd feeling due to Lydia's absence. The queen bee is usually attending school everyday, signifying her perfect attendance. But the events of last night must have left Lydia paranoid.

Then again, why should he care? It's not his business nor problem, just as it isn't his problem when he witnessed Allison and Scott leave school to celebrate her birthday in the preserve.

Yes, he witnessed the two lovebirds enact a plan to skip school for the day due to it being Allison's birthday. He overheard the Argent heiress' quiet declaration of turning 17, along with and her insistence of not wanting anyone to know about her birthday in fear of backlash from her classmates regarding her age to be older than the typical sophomore. Which isn’t a problem nor a negative term since Stilinski is turning 17 in a few months as well, resolving the age problem.

Sadly, humans tend to have such a negative aspect on each other due to their pessimistic outlook in life and the envy of others. I am exhilarated that I am not human and I don’t have the lenses of a human being to view certain circumstances as such.

Poetic Love. But undisciplined. The parallel to Romeo and Juliet.

Seraph is beside Danny doing an assignment specified from his Chemistry textbook and demonstrating his work and problem solving skills of the questions.

"Just a friendly reminder, Parent Teacher conferences are tonight. Students below a C average are required to attend. I won't name you because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment." Mr. Harris speaks to the class walking through the aisles of desks.

Luckily for me my grade is an A+, therefore such requirements aren't necessary. But for the thrill of it, I want to attend the conference so I can witness and enjoy the reactions of the parents who find out their students have D and F averages.

"Has anyone seen Scott McCall?" Mr. Harris questions, before looking at Stiles with an accusatory look as if the neurodivergent knows where he is.

It is a crime that Mieczyslaw doesn't even know, but then again Scott isn't entitled to tell his best friend every single aspect of their lives and decisions, and I believe that applies to Mieczyslaw too. I hope.

As Mr. Harris’s inquiry of Scott's whereabouts are met with silence, the classroom door opens, revealing Jackson with an aura of dread, anxiety and fear is felt by Seraph. Said male has a scowl on his face while making his way to his seat but that is a mere facade the popular student puts up to hide his exhaustion and fear.

"Jackson," He hears Mr.Harris call out to the other student. "If you need to leave early for any reason, let me know." Seraph raises his eyebrows slightly.

Wow, I am so touched by the generosity Mr.Harris offered to Jackson due to his encounter with the unknown Alpha. He would never do that to anyone else in this school. Bravo, Mr.Harris. BRAVO.

“Everyone, start reading chapter 9. Mr. Stilinski,” Mr.Harris calls out firmly, “try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s Chemistry, not a coloring book.”

Mr.Harris’s admonishing tone made Seraph simply roll his eyes. He hears Stiles blow out the cap from his mouth and catch it with his hands. Seraph once again regains his focus while reading chapter 9, until he hears Stiles' quiet voice interrupt his peaceful atmosphere.

“Danny, can I ask you a question?”

“No.” Danny’s terse response made Seraph smirk. Regardless of what class Danny has with him, Seraph finds it amusing how cordial yet curt Danny can be.

“Well I’m going to anyway,” Stiles flatly states head-on. Of course that wouldn’t stop Stilinski, known for his inquisitive nature and wittiness. “Um, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?” Um, is he freaking kidding me?

Danny huffs out a sigh, keeping his composure. “No.”

“Can I ask you another question?” Stiles inquires again, to Seraph’s disdain.

“Answer is still no.” Danny curtly declines, trying to focus on his work.

“Does anyone know what happened with Jackson last night?” The Sheriff’s son’s question makes Danny pause. Seraph, while reading, is also listening in. He is the only one pretty aware what happened to Jackson and Lydia last night thanks to his precognitive abilities he forgets to simply turn off.

“He wouldn’t…tell me.” Danny hesitantly answers, and Seraph can hear the waiver of his tone despite the lacrosse goalie’s calmness.

“But he’s your best friend.” Best friends aren’t entitled to tell best friends anything if they’ve experienced something completely traumatic, like encountering a supernatural werewolf where Jackson is unable to explain due to how bizarre and unbelievable it’ll sound.

Seraph sighs through his nose at how Stiles implies the statement. As much as Seraph dislikes Jackson, he respects the lacrosse captain’s privacy and gives a hint of sympathy for the chaotic endeavor Jackson and Lydia had to go through.

“One more question.” He hears Stiles ask Danny once more. This time Danny is agitated by being disturbed.

“What!?” Danny’s agitation reaches his limit and he can feel the teen’s annoyance surrounding him, along with Jackson’s dread and fear from the events of last night.

“Do you find me attractive?” That made Seraph and Danny pause simultaneously in bewilderment. Seraph glances to the neurodivergent behind him with raised eyebrows as Danny is just beyond baffled at the question.

“Wow Stilinski, I am astounded by such discovery. While I applaud your boldness to ask such an unclear interrogative riddle to Mahealani, it is an abnormal timeframe for you to question your sexuality and assume you are attractive.” Seraph cleverly retorts. Stiles stammers at Seraph’s response before facing him.

But to be honest, despite his disdain, Stilinski is attractive. If had to rate him between 1 to 10, it'd be a 7. Whereas Danny is a 9.5, Allison is a 9.5 and Scott is a 9. Yes he is aware of his bisexuality.

“I wanted to know if I was attracted to gay guys and I asked him, not you. Is your name Danny?” Stiles counteracts bluntly.

“Your voice is disturbing my presence as well as Danny’s as we are trying to concentrate on our assignments and reading.” Seraph diplomatically responds evading Stiles’ rudeness.

“You were literally ignoring me a few moments ago and suddenly you have the audacity to say something about my questions? You should invest in earplugs then if talking so much as bothers you.” Stiles coldly implies in witty fashion.

Oh two can play at that game, Stilinski. You’ve just met your match.

“Oh I profusely apologize, for the lack of politeness I have to your insignificant question that somehow becomes the puzzle of the day. I also sincerely apologize for being a rude classmate who has to stand by and listen to your nonsensical rambling that annoys your fellow peers. Do you need me to check you out for a psychiatrist in regards to your neurotic confusion? Or perhaps a stomatologist for your endless and unamusing questions? ” Seraph disparages with a wry smirk.

“Are you trying to be funny or are you trying to be a dick, Kingfisher?” Stiles snarks. Seraph shouldn’t be enjoying this but for some reason, he finds entertainment in Stilinski’s boldness and agitation.

“I don’t know, maybe both. Or maybe I would like for you to stop asking your inconceivable questions that tend to be a disruption to my work. As for your Interpellation, try unambiguously experimenting with other males and see if you are attracted to them.” Seraph quips before going back to his textbook. Danny just stares with shock at Seraph’s words while Stiles musters his dirtiest look at the enigmatic teen.

“You are a cruel person, Seraph.” Danny murmurs in befuddlement.

“It’s my default setting, a token of my charm.” Seraph adds wryly as he continues to read through his textbook. Class continues as usual, with the addition of Stiles’ repressed anger. The Sheriff’s son had it coming.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Parent teacher conferences were here and while he didn’t have to attend due to all of his classes being A+, he wants to view the thrill of parents scolding their teenage children for the below average grade requirements that’s expected of them.

Seraph watches in silent amusement at a parent scolding their son for a F grade in economics, and again as a father is not happy with his daughter’s C- for a mathematics class. Then again, C- isn’t that bad in average standards so he doesn’t understand why this particular father was upset. But then again, it isn’t his problem.

As he walks with his mother and younger sister in tow, they head to the first class to meet his teacher, which happens to be Coach Finstock with Economics.

“So mom, ready for this?” Seraph inquires knowingly as he steps beside the door of the class with a smug expression.

“In all my life that I’ve attended you and your sister’s parent teacher conferences, I already know what I am going to hear so I am not going to be surprised. Literally, both of you never had below an A-, which raises concerns for me as I hope you aren’t straining yourselves for perfection.” Elizabeth implies dryly.

“Sorry mom, it’s part of the–”

“--Family genes.” Seraph and Celes address concurrently with feigning innocent smiles. Their mother rolls her eyes in amusement before waving her hand in the direction of Seraph's classroom.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I never had an issue with Mr. Kingfisher here. In fact he is basically the best student I could ever ask for!” Coach Finstock exclaims. “Hands in all of his assignments, no questions asked, perfect attendance, very disciplined, he is just…phenomenal. Better than myself back in high school in English when I bombed over a research paper, or these rambunctious knuckle heads I have as students!”

The Coach’s eccentric behavior and wording makes Elizabeth just blink owlishly, nodding at his words. Seraph sports an amused glance between his mom and his economics teacher while Celes is…simply on her phone not caring.

“Right. So, just how exceptionally good is Seraph in all of his class assignments and milestones?” Elizabeth asks, clearing her throat.

“Like an angel. In fact I have one of his most treasured assignments I will forever use as an example for the rest of my teaching career.” Finstock declares before opening his drawer and pulls out Seraph’s folder and takes out a 16 page economics paper.

“This is Seraph’s economic research paper he did over the break and let me tell you, it blew my mind at how he was able to write about the 2009 recession and goes in full detail and description of the affects, the damages, the cause of it, a counterargument, even numerous evidence pieces from several citations and articles regarding this.” Finstock shows to the Kingfisher trio.

“Well I always had a cynical approach for the recession and how it was caused by undermining events.” Seraph points out while looking at his clean and manicured nails.

“You see!? Your son is a force to be reckoned with! That's why he has a 100 in my class!” Coach Finstock proudly proclaims. Elizabeth didn’t know what to acknowledge: her son’s teacher’s comments about how impressive he is, or the odd but hyperactive behavior of the coach.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Kingfisher. I must say you have a remarkable son with astonishing talents and intelligence.” Ms. Cavendish of his classical literature class compliments while shaking his mother’s hand.

“I appreciate the praise, Ms.Cavendish.” Seraph comments while taking a seat. His sister rolls her eyes at his bespectacled nature. Ironic how he uses his glasses but he has no need for them since his vision, as well as his family’s visions are crystal clear, they can see within a mile radius.

“I can already tell that this review will be satisfactory.” Elizabeth chuckles. Ms.Cavendish nods with a genuine smile while taking out Seraph’s profile folder.

“Let us get started. From the past semester to now that I’ve had with your son, it is anything but bad. Mr.Kingfisher here is advanced and exceptionally intellectual. His keen usage of details, key historical information, his understanding and recognition of political and social philosophy, and his understanding of Greek and Roman Renaissances capitalize his value in this class. He receives As in his assignments and homeworks. He even managed to complete a presentation of epistemology within Ancient Greece and how the “Theory of Forms” by Plato, which is ingrained in the philosophical foundation for knowledge and philosophy within Ancient Greece and how it affects European and American societies in the present.”

Elizabeth nods in acknowledgement. Seraph notices that this presentation he made was a little after the paper on how Romeo and Juliet was a tragedy and the negative impact it has on love and romance.

“I found this presentation very astonishing that I graded a 100 on this assignment, which bumps his grade up to a 100 in my class.” Seraph’s heart skipped a beat, literally.

“Pardon me but did I just hear that correctly?” Seraph questions his teacher while she smiles, with his mother very amused while Celes makes a flat expression at this new information.

“That’s right. Your grade is now a 100 in my class, Mr. Kingfisher and the only 100 out of my students.” Ms.Cavendish restates him and his family. Seraph’s lips curve slightly upwards. FINALLY. This class I have a 100 on and I am feeling over the moon.

“Oh brother.” His sister comments wryly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs.Kingfisher. I am surprised to see you come along Seraph considering your extraordinary grade average.” Mr.Harris speaks, as Seraph and his mom take a seat on the stools. Celes, for the first time since she arrived at the school, actually takes out a chemistry textbook and sits on a desk to read it.

“I am participating in this event just to accompany my mother and sister.” Seraph implements, cleaning his glasses.

“You could have accompanied Grandma at home, plus our butler is there too.” Celes adds slyly. Seraph rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t want to disturb her while she is gracefully strumming the keyboards of the piano at home, and our butler is preparing large dinner and dessert platters since dad won’t be home until 8pm.” He says covertly and as a matter-of-fact. Elizabeth glances at her children with a subtle vexation in her eyes before looking back at the Chemistry teacher.

“Alright then,” Mr.Harris shakes off the baffled look between the two Kingfisher siblings before making contact with Elizabeth’s eyes. “Your son is honestly one of the very few students I have no challenges with at all. He completes his assignments on time, he finishes his classwork within a class period’s time frame, actualized a few Chemistry projects and laboratory works including an acid-base titration project he formulated and hypothesized a reaction of the chemicals and how the neutralization affects the flow of acids.”

“I can concur with that, as my son here has some equipment he bought from the California Institute of Technology and used for his own projects. One of them was a project called Electrochemical Cell Project. In basic terminology of a breakdown, he demonstrated the principles of redox reactions and generating electrical energy.” Elizabeth explains and recounts the time Seraph did start that project. Seraph watches amusedly as Mr.Harris’ face is a mixture of impression and intrigued.

“That’s quite commendable of him to do and to immerse himself into. To categorize and construct a complicated project within the confines of your home and successfully finish it and have a well advanced understanding of it, enthralls me.” Mr.Harris relays. “Perhaps you can demonstrate one for the class if you are comfortable with it.”

A determined glint shines in Seraph’s gray eyes. “Certainly Mr.Harris, I’d be delighted to provide a replica of the aforementioned project.” If you are willing to add it to my grade for a 100 for this kind of assignment. Seraph thought bitterly, his mind fervent to prove a validated point of his intelligence.

“How completely and utterly unsurprising.” Celes murmurs into her sleeve disguising it as a cough so that only Seraph and their mother can hear it. The dark academia teen knew his sister read his mind from that snarky phrase.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They finish with the rest of Seraph’s classes before walking out in the hallway. Elizabeth of course remains detached from her children as she assesses the school and her environment around them. Celes is on her phone looking through her feed seeing Lydia’s updates on social media, while Seraph has a scowl plastered on his face. He was just fine a minute ago, until he overheard a conversation between Lydia’s parents and one of said girl’s teacher about how her IQ is the highest in this school. His rival’s gpa is exceedingly high, at a 5.0, where he’s at a 4.7 grade point average.

“Why the long face, Raph? You now have 100s in five of your classes, what more do you want, a Nobel Peace Prize?” Celes jests as she glances at Seraph’s scowl. Before she could read his mind, he let out a scoff.

“My academic rival is 3 points above my gpa. She’s now a 5.0 while I have to catch up, otherwise I will never hear the end of it from her if she were to ever find out.” He sibilates, then scoffs as he can hear Lydia’s teasing and covert remarks in his head.

“Oh boy, here we go. I am Seraph and I am sorry that people are jealous of me…but I can’t help it that I’m so intelligent.” Celes mocks, despite the voice portrayal of her older brother being very off. Seraph turns his head at her with irritation.

“Hé, sois tranquille avant de dormir sur la chaise!”

“No, ti taro gettare sulla chaise!”

“Je t’emmerde!” “Fanculo!”

“Stop. Language both of you,” Elizabeth turns around to face them with narrowed eyes. “Stop your shenanigans and comply with each other so we can get home and eat ham or salmon with quinoa, macaroni and cheese, vegetables, biscuits, and tiramisu or blueberry pie.” Their mother tiredly explains.

“As long as there is no asparagus, then I am fine with proceeding for dinner.” Seraph informs, but he catches Celes mock him.

“Celes, stop.” Elizabeth warns, making the girl cease her actions for good. “No, there is no asparagus for dinner. Now come.” The trio walked further down the hall and joined the line of parents walking to reach the double set of school doors. The moment they stepped out, they breathed in the cool winter air of the night. They are glad that they are immune to cold weather and winter in general due to their fiery body temperatures not being able to feel any draft of cool air as they provide excess body heat. They don’t even need to wear coats, but for the sake of concealing their supernatural identities, they have to wear what humans are required to wear. Much to their dismay as the more layers added on, the more heat builds up.

“Allison, answering your cell phone will make discussing the terms of your grounding easier,” a familiar voice speaks behind the trio, making them alert. “Either call me back before your punishment reaches biblical proportions.” Seraph knows the owner of the voice and the repressed angry aura, belonging to Chris Argent. He also felt the other aura, belonging to Victoria Argent. Wie Wunderbar, the matriarch and heir of the Argents are behind him and his mother and sister. Raio!

“Kate hasn’t heard from her either.” The Trio hear Victoria say worriedly, but they move to the side as a familiar presence moves up the stairs. Seraph glances and he sees Melissa McCall, the nurse at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital and mother of Scott, walking up to what he can visualize as confronting the parents of Allison.

“Excuse me, you’re not Allison’s parents are you? I’m Scott’s mom and I hate to say it but he’s not answering his phone either.” Oh god. This isn’t going to end well.

“You’re his mother?” Chris questions, a tone of bitterness and rudeness laced together. That even made Seraph’s mother wince due to the way it was implicated.

“Funny how you say that like it’s an accusation.” Melissa answers back cautiously. Seraph had to smirk, he gives Scott’s mom respect for being kind yet assertive.

“Well I wouldn’t claim it as a source of pride since he basically kidnapped my daughter today.” Chris replies cuttingly. That is not how you consult with the parent of your daughter’s boyfriend, and technically speaking it was Allison’s idea to cut school, not Scott’s. Every child is not an angel.

“How would we know skipping school wasn’t your daughter’s idea?” Melissa counters back. Bingo. He could feel the shift in frustration to anger in both Chris's and Victoria’s aura as he, his sister and mother reached Elizabeth’s car. But Seraph hears the car door open to his far right on the other side of the parking lot and he sees Allison and Scott come out of her Madza.

“My daughter…!” He hears Chris pause as he notices the two teenagers leave his daughter’s vehicle. His aura drifted back to a calm yet composed anger, mixed with relief. “...Is right there.”

“Where EXACTLY have you been?” Melissa interrogates her son, who was sheepish.

“Nowhere mom—”

“Nowhere meaning not in school!”

“Um– kinda…”

“It’s not his fault. It’s my birthday and we were—”

The sound of a rapid heartbeat and smell of fur made Seraph freeze. His mother and younger sister eyed him weirdly until they caught the scent and rapid heartbeats. Along with the paddling of paws running on the pavement. The shrillhe scream of a woman echoes, alerting the trio and everyone else in the parking lot.

Soon more shouts and screams were heard.The sounds of footsteps ran across the pavement along with an apparent growling.

“Stay in the car, both of you.” Elizabeth asserts, before going off to investigate, not waiting for a response.

“What is she doing?” Celes questions apprehensively. Seraph’s eyes widen when he sees his mother pulls out a AutoMag .44 Magnum pistol from the car trunk and holsters it in her coat. He leaves the car with Celes in tow. Exposing their supernatural side is a dangerous and fatal concept, but trying to investigate and defend as a human?

What is she doing!? She is not supposed to get involved!

The sounds of harsh growling echo in the parking lot along with the swift movements swishing by, giving Seraph a stronger scent. A Mountain Lion’s scent.

“It’s a Mountain Lion that's in the lot.” He relays to Celes. While he’s glad it isn’t the Alpha or something else supernatural, but the idea of his mother hunting it down is preposterous when the Argents are here. Then again, the thought of a wild animal harming someone is gruesome.

A car honking rapidly snaps him out of his search and he watches with shock as a white car is heading straight for Allison without a care in the world.

ALLISON—

“Allison!” Scott’s voice rang in the air as he sprinted towards the girl before the enigmatic watch Scott pulled Allison swiftly to safety just in time before the white car could barrel into any of them. At least he didn’t have to see either of his fellow classmates get severely injured or worse.

“Move! Move!” The voice of the Sheriff authorizes the panicking crowd, trying to find the wild threat lurking within the chaotic scenery. Elizabeth is just running towards an open space when she hears a car shift gears into reverse and the tail-lights turn on.

"LOOK OUT!!!" Shouting loudly and with bated breath, Elizabeth rushes forward to push the human authority figure out of the way just in time, but in doing so the silver car hits her with it's rear, making her fall sideways to the ground.

"MOM!!!" Celes shouts in horror as the two teens witness their mother receive a painful impact from a panicking stranger's vehicle. While their supernatural status would make sudden situations such as getting clipped by a car appear minuscule, the action of seeing their mother receive a whiplashing impact instills horror and fear within them. The two Kingfisher teens rush to their mom’s side while Sheriff Stilinski was appalled and shocked that a civilian, no less Mrs. Kingfisher was the one to push him out of a harmful obstacle but faced them herself.

“Mrs. Kingfisher!? Jesus are you alright?” Sheriff Stilinski asks Trepidatiously while Seraph helps her up slowly.

“Yes I am fine. Just searing pain around my waist and hip bone.” Elizabeth breathes out, her discomfort evident despite the healing factor kicking in, which is thankfully hidden in her attorney attire and trench coat. With icy veiled outrage, Seraph looks at the car plates of the silver car that hit his mother and memorizes the license plate numbers to use for a lawsuit he is going to file later on. Pettiness be damned.

“Mrs. Kingfisher, are you okay!?” The voice of David Whittemore, Elizabeth’s fellow attorney and colleague, calls out in worry. “I just witnessed you were hit by a car and–”

Gunshots ring in the air nearby, cutting off Mr.Whittemore. The trio plus Sheriff Stilinski see Chris Argent with his pistol out as small trails of smoke come out of the gun’s muzzle. The panicked crowd gather around where Chris is at and as the Kingfishers come close to the male with the Sheriff on one side and Allison on the other, they see the corpse of a Mountain Lion, on it’s last breath as the silver bullets from the hunter’s gun made fatal hits. Despite it being a predator, Seraph could only look at it with sympathy and pity as he hears the heartbeat inside the animal fade at each beat before it hastily stops.

In a prey to predator world, sometimes the ones at the higher ends or top of the food chain are also vulnerable to danger and the cycle of life and death. This applies for preys and predators, predators and humans, hunters and werewolves, banshees and dullahans, kitsunes and onis, and even divine beings and eldritch beings.

“Let’s return home.” Elizabeth authorizes, her tone leaving no room for objections. Seraph and Celes follow their mother to her car. Elizabeth has to pretend she is injured from the slight car incident, so that there wouldn’t be suspicion of her healing so quickly, especially in the presence of the Argents.

Seraph still gazes at the scene from the passenger window, eyes not leaving from the scene as he observes and ponders, while the car starts and moves out of the parking lot of cars.

Seraph’s father will not be happy when he hears of this incident when they reach home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

EDIT: So...Seraph and his family...what are they? Plus this will not be the last time Seraph and Stiles interact, albeit not in friendly fashion (at least not yet)

Chapter 4 is this weekend

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf au #teen wolf canon au #teen wolf oc #scott mccall #allison argent #stiles stilinski #danny mahealani #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #melissa mccall #chris argent #victoria argent #This is going to be a good series

6 notes · View notes

simplynotcapable · 1 year ago

Note

Teen Wolf V&B AU thots??? I mean I guess Visenya and Baelon aren't stranger names than *Stiles* right?

My Teen Wolf fangirl circa 2015 is coming out full force right now you have no idea. This is very haphazard because I wrote it in a fugue state after not sleeping for like two days, so if it isn’t coherent in certain places—my bad!

The Targaryen pack are old money werewolves, and I mean old money. They’ve got a deep handhold on basically the entirety of the East Coast and a little into the Southern states, and they don’t really do outsiders. Werewolf royalty across the country from the Hales, and they have the same gift of shifting fully.

They used to, anyway. Viserys’s father could and his brother, and his cousin can, but the transition of power was a little messy in his generation and he somehow lost it when he became Alpha. A frowning of their magic on his theft, Visenya thinks when she’s older.

His daughters do, though. Visenya small and quick, black-furred and green-eyed, and Rhaenyra such a pretty golden color that she almost seems to glow with it.

When Aemma dies—we’ll say hunters when Visenya is a baby, and it happens because she gets shot with an arrow and Viserys won’t go back for her—Viserys remarries. Not within his own pack, but a girl born from a smaller, neighboring pack who just happened to not have inherited the werewolf gene.

Rhaenyra is, justifiably, horrified. Alicent is barely any older than her—we’ll put her at 20? 21?

And then come the Targtowers, who all four shift just as the Targaryens always have but have their mother’s mouth and their mother’s fears.

Now, the unspoken assumption until then is that Rhaenyra will be Alpha when Viserys dies. But as the kids get older, it becomes pretty clear that Visenya is firmly on her big sister’s side but Alicent wants her kids to inherit. It’s a big thing, and it makes all the Betas uneasy, but Viserys doesn’t even notice.

It isn’t the fact that Jace and Luke are bastards born of adultery that raises everybody’s hackles, it’s the fact that their dad is human. Harwin Strong is a nice guy, he helps Rhaenyra when her car breaks down and asks for her number, and she knows she should say no because Targaryens don’t associate with humans except when strictly necessary, but come on. He’s huge and he smells nice and he’s very sweet and his heartbeat speeds up just from her holding his hand, how does she say no to that?

She marries him. Of course, she marries him, she wants to, he makes her happy, and her father swallows it but Alicent doesn’t.

Especially when, during the first full moon he turns, Luke takes out Aemond’s eye.

Rhaenyra’s argument is that, well, one, Aemond is five years older and has control of himself, what was he even doing with wolves who didn’t, and, two, it will heal! It will take years, granted, but it will.

Visenya, snapping and snarling beside her, clearly agrees. So does Viserys.

Alicent gets even more frustrated, and she’s terrified Rhaenyra as Alpha will kill off all her siblings to prevent them coming after her—or Viserys’s first Beta, a mean thing named Daemon who is his brother in all but blood, will do it for her.

And when Viserys is shot with a wolfsbane bullet (hunters, hunters, they insist, but the sniper’s eyes are Hightower green and they burn beta blue when the trigger is pulled) during the pack’s full moon run, when they get him home and in bed, the emissary says they weren’t fast enough.

Most of the pack is still in the woods. There’s too many of them to all run exactly together, but Rhaenyra is dancing about as Visenya helps her nip at the boys to keep them in line, the four of them frolicking and happy, and it hits them all at once.

The woods fill with werewolves screaming, as pack bonds rend and tear and break, as Aegon heeds his mother’s cries and slashes his father’s throat.

Daemon finds them in the woods, the sisters shifted back and keening, ripping at their hair, because he was not much of a father but he was still their alpha. The magic is tearing, the wolves of them are tearing apart.

“He’s going to kill you,” he says, and Visenya has always known his eyes as beta blue. She’s never seen them gold, never seen him innocent, and she worries for a moment. Worries over who he really is, this big man towering over them, who looks at her sister with such odd reverence. “We have to get you out of here.”

“Or kill him,” Rhaenyra says, and Visenya growls.

She doesn’t mean to. Can’t help herself.

But they are her brothers, her sister, and she loves them. She held Daeron’s hand the first time he shifted, that beautiful coppery wolf with the shining blue eyes, and she watched Aemond weep the first few years when all he could manage was a half state. He’d figured it out when Luke took his eye out, a gray beast huge and hulking, unnatural for such a little boy. She’s held Aegon through tears and nightmares, he’s only barely fifteen, and Helaena is her soul in the body of a fourteen year old girl.

“Only if you think you can kill them all at once,” Daemon says, even as Rhaenyra’s head snaps around with gold eyes to force Visenya into silence. “And how many stand with you? How many won’t, when you…”

He trails off. Looks at the boys.

Sullied the line with human’s blood, hangs between them.

This is no life with crowns and dragons, no life where the factions can kid themselves over a peaceful change without spilling blood. That isn’t the way of wolves. Rhaenyra Targaryen is no fool, to risk her sons and sister and self for red eyes and too much power.

“There’s nowhere for us to go,” she says. “Who will risk Targaryen wrath to take us in? Even the Starks are not so mad.”

“The Hales never feared Targaryen wrath,” Daemon says, head cocked, and Rhaenyra goes quiet. “The Hale boy’s lost the red in his eyes, but there’s an alpha roaming Hale territory all the same. A True Alpha.”

Word spreads quickly among wolves, and Visenya’s heard of Scott McCall. Heard of Deucalion and Kali and Ennis and the twins, the Alphas who came for him and failed. His odd pack of creatures and humans.

“Will they chase us?” Visenya asks, softly.

“Aegon would not turn you away,” Rhaenyra says, which is true, and the silent question is one that makes her bare her teeth.

“I go where you go,” Visenya answers, and the last of it pulls from her. The connection. The belonging. The last remnant is a forlorn clinging from Helaena, a silent beseeching, and then that is gone too.

She loves them, but, in this life, to leave them is safer for them all than to stay.

There is only Rhaenyra now, Jace and Luke. A thin, hesitant thread to Daemon, who smiles.

“They’ll only chase until they know you don’t mean to come back,” Daemon says. “Until word reaches that you’ve bowed head to Scott McCall.”

“Will he take us?” Jace asks, fretful and unsure, and Visenya coils an arm around him.

“Four golden-eyed betas who shift to wolves?” she asks, gentle, as if he is ten instead of fifteen. “He’d be a fool otherwise.”

When they reach Beacon Hills, Visenya and Rhaenyra’s eyes have gone blue. Daemon is pleased with them, makes sure to tell them often, but Visenya cannot stop thinking about them. The betas in wait on Rhaenyra’s front stoop when they went to fetch Harwin, the way they screamed when the she-wolves bit.

They find a house in Beacon Hills, quiet and safe, and they wait a few days. Under normal circumstances, werewolves entering another’s territory would be met with some kind of messenger, if not a direct attack, but Scott McCall doesn’t seem to realize that.

Rhaenyra sends Visenya to high school, for the first time in her life, and she goes looking for the young bitten Alpha that doesn’t know the ways of his kind.

She finds him in a history class, sat in front of a human boy and behind a wolf who must be his beta.

The beta boy notices her first, and she grins at him. Bright, bright, bright, and flashes her eyes blue.

His blaze gold, and he blinks them roughly away.

Tall and lean, all his features sharp and his human eyes so bright a blue they almost hurt to look at. A mess of dirty blonde hair, stubble on his cheeks even though he can’t be more than seventeen.

She wants, suddenly, to bite him until he’s thrashing.

He’s looking at her like he wants to bite back.

The class ends, and she finds all three in an empty classroom. They’re speaking to each other quietly, about nightmares and hallucinations and beacons, and then the beta nudges his alpha and jerks his chin towards her.

“You’ve stirred up the world, Scott McCall,” she says, shutting the door behind her. “Half the wolves think you’re a myth and the others wish you were.”

“Which are you?” he asks, studying her. Hesitant. She wonders what odd things they’ve been through, Scott McCall and his strange pack. He’s on the floor with bloody hands, so she can’t imagine anything good.

“The kind that needs asylum.”

He asks, and she tells him. The human boy doesn’t trust her, it’s immediate, and he fully interrupts to point a finger at her and demand, “Baelon says your eyes are blue. Why?”

“Because my brother sent men to kill my sister,” she says, sweetly, “and we ripped out their throats.”

His name was Arryk, the one she killed. He taught her to drive. He let her out of her chains, those first few full moons, and brought her water and a sandwich. His brother used to help snap her bones back into place when she broke them leaping off the roof.

The beta boy makes a soft sound, and she glances at him. Valyrian name, like hers, though Valyria has been gone eight hundred years or more. He doesn’t look Valyrian, not really, except for the faint suggestion at the curve of his mouth and the tilt of his nose.

“We don’t kill,” Scott McCall says, and he has the gall to sound reproachful.

“If I’d had a choice,” she says, contemptuously, “I wouldn’t have either. But it was kill him or watch my sister and her sons get torn to pieces.”

“It’s not always black and white, Scott,” Baelon says, but both Scott and the human look doubtful.

“Your turn,” she prompts. “Beacon? Nightmares?”

“Eavesdropping,” Baelon accuses, and she winks at him. His heartbeat kicks.

“Not eavesdropping if you don’t bother being quiet.”

They tell her, and she knows bits are left out. But she learns about the beginning, about Peter Hale who bit Scott and Derek Hale who bit Baelon, about a boy named Jackson with scales. About a huntress and a banshee and another werewolf called Isaac somewhere in the school and the three boys looking at her. About a dark druid and an ice bath and a door they kicked open.

“And now you’re all losing it,” she says, fascinated, and then shrugs. “I can’t help the squirrelly one”—Stiles sputters—“or the huntress, but you not being able to control yourself is easy.”

“Easy?” Scott repeats, amused, and she shrugs.

“Nyra’s been preparing to be an alpha her entire life. She can show you how.”

“If he takes you in,” Baelon finishes, drily, and she holds her hands up innocently.

“Four full shifters isn’t a bad deal, Scott McCall, and Daemon isn’t awful either.”

“Heartbeat,” Scott says, eyebrows raising, and she sighs.

“I personally think he’s an asshole.”

This seems to endear her to Stiles, who nods somberly. “We have one like that.”

As it turns out, he means Baelon’s brother. Isaac Lahey smiles at her, hesitant, and then flushes a little when she smiles back.

“Baelon and Isaac,” she muses. “Odd difference.”

“His name’s Aethan Isaac,” Baelon says, drily. “Our older brother was Valarr Camden.”

Was, she notices, but she doesn’t ask.

“You don’t follow the middle name trend?”

“I would if it wasn’t Ezekiel,” he said, wryly, and he looks at her like she’s glowing when she laughs.

She likes Scott’s pack, for the most part.

Lydia Martin is smart and has a razor sharp tongue, and she’s pretty in a way that dazes her a little. She likes Visenya’s jacket, asks her if it’s thrifted, and Visenya says yes instead of explaining she stole it from her sister and can’t bear to stop wearing it because it still smells like Helaena. If the wolves notice her lie, they don’t call her out on it.

Isaac is, as Stiles said, a bit of an asshole, but it’s in a drily funny sort of way. He’s sweet underneath it, she can tell, and he always looks at Baelon when he finishes talking—like he’s checking to see if he approves of whatever he said. Baelon always smiles back.

(“I spent most of my childhood locked in a freezer” he says, to Stiles’s consternation, and no one else reacts to it so Visenya doesn’t either. She looks beside her to Baelon, though, who only looks back like he’s daring her to ask.

Months later, she does. “The only reason my eyes aren’t blue,” he says, teeth bared, eyes glowing, “is because Jackson got there first.”)

She likes Scott, too, mostly. He’s too worried about morality, she thinks, for a boy who lives in a world of magic and shades of gray. Then, she supposes that’s why he’s the true alpha instead of her. But he’s kind, and he loves the cluster surrounding him, and, she thinks, if she and Nyra play their cards right…she can get him to love them, too.

Stiles reminds her of Daeron. Hyper and clever and a little odd, loyal to a fault. There’s something funny about an alpha wolf having a human guard dog, but she doesn’t make the joke. He smells…exhausted, though, faintly sour, and his emotions are delayed. He feels faster than his scent can keep up with.

She’s not a fan of Allison. She doesn’t care if she’s redeemed, doesn’t care if she’s changed. There’s something off about her, something wrong, and she doesn’t think a hunter can ever really be trusted.

(It’s Baelon who hates her, Baelon who doesn’t trust her, Baelon who wants to tear her into pieces. It’s in his smell and the way he holds himself, his eyes burning with memories of his brother slashed and bleeding.

Visenya feels it without realizing she feels it, and it twists into her just as strongly. Neither of them notice then. Neither of them understand it later. But it’s how they are, always, in every life and every way. Tangled with each other, thoughts and hearts and minds.)

She brings Scott home to Nyra, and he looks in wonder at the pile of fur atop Harwin—asleep, sprawled on the couch, some old war movie playing quietly on the TV. Little heads pop up over the back of the couch at the sound of their entrance, Luke’s white and Jace’s a thousand different shades of gray in one.

“Go put clothes on,” she tells them, running a fond hand behind each of their ears, and Jace nips at her fingertips and then immediately cowers when she snaps her teeth back. “Play later. Go.”

Scott watches them disappear up the stairs, watches in even more interest when two dark-haired boys come tumbling back down. Jace didn’t bother with a shirt, and Luke’s only in one of Harwin’s shirts that fits him like a dress, and they circle Scott with wide eyes.

“Young for an alpha,” Luke accuses, all of eight years old, and Visenya smacks him gently in the back of the head.

“Where’s Nyra?”

Nyra and Scott go onto the back porch, leaving Visenya and the boys and a newly awakened Harwin in the kitchen. Daemon’s gotten a job as a mechanic in town, blissfully absent, and she delights in the silence.

She watches them out the window. Knows already what Nyra is begging for. Safety. Protection. Pack, family. Home.

Scott looks through the window just as Luke crawls into Visenya’s lap, his eyes lingering on the little boy chattering in her arms, and he looks back to her sister and says, “yes.”

Not much changes, really, once Scott McCall decides they can stay. He doesn’t call on children, naturally, and he says Daemon reminds him of Peter; he doesn’t reach out to him, either. But he talks to Rhaenyra, often enough. About wolves and what being an alpha means, about what she learned at her father’s knee.

Not like Derek, meant to be his sister’s second. Rhaenyra was born for this.

Still, it’s not pack like it was back home. Not for Nyra and Daemon and the boys. Scott’s cloak of protection, the claiming of them, is enough to halt the wolves still following them, but it’s only a technicality. A kindness. He doesn’t really see them as his, and they don’t see him as theirs.

Jace does, eventually, and Luke when he’s older, but Visenya…Visenya feels like the McCall pack is right where she’s supposed to be.

Visenya keeps going to human school, and she slips seamlessly into a space that Scott and his pack didn’t think was empty. It enrages the twins, trying so hard to find their place, all but groveling for it—to see her accepted, her family accepted, drives them half insane.

But nothing stays boring in Beacon Hills.

There’s a coyote girl trapped in the woods, and Scott brings them to hunt her. He doesn’t like the phrasing, but that’s what they’re doing so that’s what she calls it. They’re not used to wolves, yet, not whole ones, and Stiles reaches out to scratch behind her ears without even asking first.

He pauses at her incredulous look, then continues when she only huffs and tilts her head.

Scott’s roar hits her so hard that she shifts back, one moment prancing anxiously around Isaac as Baelon and Allison attempt to get him free of the bear trap. She hears him ripping it off his leg like it’s through cotton, too busy writhing back into herself.

Viserys never had a pull like that, one strong enough to force her back into herself. It leaves her trembling and a little gobsmacked, and she doesn’t even realize she’s naked in the woods until Baelon’s handing her his shirt and turning his blushing face towards the sky.

Things don’t calm down much after that.

Baelon takes to tossing pebbles at her window at night, ignoring her when she teases him for being a walking 80’s romcom character. It’s sweet, though, the sight of him grinning up at her from the grass, the way he catches her when she jumps down and spins her a little before he lets her stand.

They walk to nowhere, gas station slushies and a bag of gummy LifeSavers. They bicker over the red ones, but he always ends up letting her have them in the end. It’s nice. It’s strange. Sometimes she forgets she’s only known him a little while.

It’s on one of these walks that the power blacks out, that they come out of the shadows, silver faces and glowing pits for eyes, and she gets flung into the side of a building when they catch Baelon by the throat.

They go for Isaac when they disappear, afterwards, but neither of them know that yet.

Kira’s abducted by a madman, catches electricity in her hands, and Visenya sees something glowing and bold around her if she looks at the other girl with her real eyes. Nyra would know, probably, but Nyra seems so much lighter these days that she almost can’t bear to involve her more than she absolutely has to.

She just refuses to ask Daemon.

Isaac, who is peculiarly close to the Argents considering that Allison tried to kill him, says Chris knows what the demons are. He says it while attempting to wriggle out of Baelon’s arms, a false exasperation on his face as his brother frantically checks him all over for some sign that he’s worse than he seems.

She sees past it, the quietly pleased way Isaac relaxes when Baelon’s hands twist his head this way and that, how half-heartedly he pulls away, the subtle way he’s checking Baelon, too.

Isaac finds a symbol behind Baelon’s ear, a reversed 5, and the same one is marked behind his. She watches as they press their fingers to each other’s marks, anxiety suddenly so thick she gags on it.

The Lahey brothers still haven’t quite recovered from the years when all they had was each other, she thinks.

(It was better-worse when they were little, when they both fit in the freezer. Worse because both of them were trapped, better because they could clasp hands in the dark and whisper stories. Not alone.

Then, they got bigger, too big, and it was only a race to see who got the belt and who got the dark. They preferred the belt. The belt ended, eventually, when he got tired, but he could leave them in the freezer for hours, for days.

Isaac would do anything for the belt instead of the basement, and it worked out well because Baelon would do anything to keep Isaac out of the freezer. He rationalized that he’s older, even if only by ten months, that it’s his job, and so he did whatever he needed to do.

When Isaac got a C on a math test, Baelon broke a window.

When he tripped coming inside and knocked over a picture frame, Baelon smashed the beer on the floor.

When Isaac talked back or Isaac breathed too loudly or Isaac stood in the wrong place for too long, Baelon broke holes in the walls and stole Camden’s clothes from the untouched shrine that was his bedroom and broke the handle on the recliner.

Then, he stayed still, stayed quiet, tried to keep his face covered. Grinned at Isaac over their father’s shoulder, bleeding nose and split lip and eye already swelling, letting himself get dragged down the stairs.

Laid in the dark, imagining his father dead, but he never took the gun because there’s too much a chance of being separated in foster care.

So, no. One could say they weren’t yet recovered from that in entirety.)

The shadow demons come again during the twins’ party, but Visenya’s busy.

“She tried to kill him,” he seethes, scowling at his brother and Allison, and Visenya distracts him with a handprint of blue paint on his cheek.

“Take off your shirt,” she says.

“What? No. You take off your shirt.”

He spends several seconds blinking when she does. She doesn’t think it was his expected outcome.

“Take off your shirt,” she says again, and this time he listens.

He stains her with pink fingerprints and orange hands on her belly and her wrists, dragging up her arms, brushes them down her cheeks. She writes her name in green across his chest, grants him the kindness of not commenting on the way he shudders. Pink handprints on his abs and orange on his shoulders and a yellow thumbprint on his bottom lip.

“We barely know each other,” he says, laughing, as if she needs the reminder. He doesn’t release the possessive hand on her hip, though, and he doesn’t stop fingerpainting across her chest and the top of her breasts where they peek out.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” she answers, and she wraps a blue hand around his throat. It leaves a perfect print when she pulls away.

“No,” he agrees. “It doesn’t.”

Their eyes are glowing, but the humans around them either don’t notice or blame it on the lights.

“What happened?” Baelon asks, cluelessly, when they stumble back and find the partygoers gone and their pack standing in an exhausted cluster.

“The—where were you?” asks Isaac, and they both freeze.

An answer is unneeded, if the way his nostrils flare and his face contorts in disgust are any indication. They aren’t exactly subtle even without the scent, to be fair, their torsos one giant smudge of muddled neon, paint on their mouths and in their hair, the button on Visenya’s shorts missing from too frantic pulling and Baelon’s shirt torn at one shoulder and also on backwards.

So, they missed the shadow demons. No one died, though, so she still counts it as a win.

Things only get more complicated from there, though.

Kitsune and Oni and Nogitsune. Squirrelly little Stiles, who doesn’t smell sick but doesn’t smell right, and she doesn’t know how to explain the difference. He sleepwalks and sleeptalks, and Scott says he’s sick like his dead mother was but she doesn’t think so. She doesn’t say anything. She’s been wrong before.

Stiles goes missing and then comes back, Derek—who Visenya is actually fond of, even if he does not return the sentiment—and Chris are framed for murder.

“Do you guys,” she says, exhausted, “ever catch a fucking break?”

“No,” says Baelon, pasted against her back with his nose burrowed into her neck. “God, I wish we did.”

The boys realize the cross country path is a trap, and Visenya only barely knocks Coach out of the way of a bolt. It hits her only barely, clean through her hip and healed almost before it’s out, but Baelon reacts as if she got brained with a baseball bat. Frantic and snarling, eyes glowing to the point that she has to pull his head down against her shoulder to hide them.

(“Have you ever been around paired up werewolves?” Aiden asks.

“Not really?” she answers, even as she realizes Baelon’s claws are out and lets him slide his hands under her shirt to keep them out of view.

“It’s normal. You’ll both calm down after the next full moon.”

“Both? I’m fine!”)

Stiles, Scott, and Kira get attacked at the vet, which she finds out later because Baelon cannot be peeled off of her with a crowbar, and apparently Deaton has magic plant juice that stops possession. No one else seems to find this as unbelievable as Visenya does.

Stiles also apparently stabs Scott, which mystifies her because she didn’t know Stiles had the upper body strength to stab anyone. Only Derek and Isaac find this joke funny.

The hits keep coming, after that. A bomb in the sheriff station. Stiles checks himself into Eichen House, to the horror and disapproval of nearly everyone. Deaton sends them on a quest for a magic scroll, because he’s the weird old wizard NPC who hands out quests for XP and special items and subtle hints when they’re taking too long to finish a level.

“He is not,” Baelon says.

“No, he is,” Isaac says, and he accepts Visenya’s wordless offer of a fist bump. “That’s kind of what he does, Bael.”

In said quest to retrieve said magic scroll, Baelon gets flung into a wall.

Visenya, as it turns out, is not fine.

She is not fine at all.

It feels like dying, when he looks up in a daze with blood on his brow. Already healed. She doesn’t care.

She’s on four legs and has her teeth clamped in the motherfucker’s thigh before the twins are even fully out of the way. Ethan yelps when she smacks into him, but they both do the wise thing and make room for her.

It’s only Scott who intervenes, when they fling him down in front of the alpha. Visenya prowls towards him, the twins on either side of her, and for once all three of them are of like mind because she wants him dead.

Scott doesn’t. Alpha doesn’t, which holds significantly more sway with her when she has fur, and she can’t force herself to disobey when he’s using that tone of voice. She turns instead, flings herself towards Baelon, touching frantically at the already long-healed wound on his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, and then, “claws, claws, claws, baby!”

She tries to apologize. Her mouth won’t work. She just curls tight against him and nuzzles at his face, doing her best to keep her claws from his skin because they won’t go back in, and he wraps an arm around her waist with a sigh.

Visenya drags him home with her. Rhaenyra makes him sleep on the couch, so Visenya turns into a wolf and sprawls atop him. He huffs but he doesn’t comment, just drags his fingers soothingly through her fur and lets her lick his cheek.

(Daemon has his own apartment now, so she texts him. Just a name. Not a reason. Two days later, she gets a thumbs up in response, and she never tells anyone he’s dead.)

Because things never go right, everything after that happens almost all at once. In a happy coincidence, it’s Scott and his pack’s fault that the demon is even awake in the first place, which has some poetic irony.

Then it comes for Derek, who tries to kill Argent, which she does not think would be any great loss, personally. He seems nice enough. She just doesn’t super care to be pals, when he’s killed dozens of her kind. When it’s possible he was with the hunters who killed her mother.

(She never asks. Never mentions to Nyra that she has her suspicions, that Allison’s mentioned her parents used to live there right about the proper time. She doesn’t trust her not to send Daemon to slaughter him and Allison both—they are only Scott’s wolves in name, Rhaenyra and Daemon, and they wouldn’t blink to do it.)

And it comes for Isaac and the twins, who try to kill each other with the ferocity that comes from a history she wasn’t there for. Baelon, naturally, flings himself into the midst of it. Visenya, naturally, follows.

It’s Allison and Kira who keep them from ripping each other into pieces. Visenya thanks Kira. Allison pretends not to be bothered by it.

Of course, things can’t end there. There are two Stiles now, one of which is Satan and stole Lydia, and apparently Scott can crawl into people’s minds.

(“Yes,” says Rhaenyra, “it’s tricky, though.”

“Rhaenyra,” Visenya asks, “are you telling me you’ve been in someone’s head?”

“Would you rather if I didn’t?”)

The twins get shot at, and, again, she doesn’t think it would be much of a loss even if they are growing on her. Slowly. Like fungus.

Another mission, this time to find Lydia at an old internment camp, and shadow demons are such fucking dicks, honestly. The Nogitsune steals them, of course, because it would be too easy if he didn’t. She gets battered to the point that she doesn’t even remember her own name, and she only just barely keeps from getting impaled on their damn swords.

And then one explodes. She stares. Everyone stares. They turn to look, and there’s Allison, and then there…isn’t Allison.

She dies in Scott’s arms, as the rest of them watch. Baelon holds onto Isaac. Visenya just…stares. At a loss. She doesn’t-didn’t-like her, but it’s…odd. Watching someone die who is so important to so many of the people she does care about.

“I’m not upset she’s dead,” Baelon says that night, crawling through her window. His eyes are bloodshot. “I just wish Ike didn’t have to watch it.”

He falls asleep in her lap, and, even though Visenya knows she must have heard him come in, Rhaenyra doesn’t come to kick him out.

It’s a massacre after that. The school. The station. The hospital.

Visenya and Baelon go with Derek and the twins, trying to get the box to Scott, and the Other Stiles looks at her and smiles.

He doesn’t say anything.

For the rest of her life, Visenya remembers that smile.

Chris turns up right as she thinks she’s about to die, which is super convenient and she guesses she’s glad he isn’t dead after all. Aiden, who she just took a sword through the shoulder for, clearly agrees.

“I should have let you get stabbed,” she tells him, indignant, and he snorts even as he catches her when her legs give out.

“I knew you were all bark.”

Baelon is immediately beside her with gnashing teeth, and Aiden passes her off without a word of protest.

And then it’s just…over. A bug in a box, a few bloody wounds, and it’s over. People heal from their wounds. The Oni are gone. It feels too easy.

She is horrified that she’s reached a point where this feels easy.

Two weeks pass. Two blissful weeks of no wounds and no fear, and she hates it. She can’t take her mind off missing her family , missing her brothers and her sister, when there’s nothing to distract her from it.

Baelon helps. His kisses, his presence, the solidity of him constantly beside her. Nyra likes him, though she won’t admit it. Harwin and the boys like him, and they don’t bother hiding it.

It’s Baelon she’s with when the day comes. It’s Saturday, and they’re play wrestling in the front yard, giggling and kicking and stealing kisses every few moments, and then her head snaps up.

Stepping out of the back of a car is Helaena, travel-mussed and wild-eyed, and Daeron is clinging to her leg.

“Hel?” she demands, shoving Baelon off her and scrambling towards them. “Daring? What are you doing here? What happened, where’s Aegon? Aemond? Your mother?”

“Mother is dead,” Helaena answers, letting herself be yanked into Visenya’s arms. Burrows close as Daeron does the same, the two of them clinging like babes. “The boys are…they aren’t right, Enya. Neither of them. Can we stay? Will the alpha let us stay?”

Visenya looks to Baelon, still laid on the grass, and he already has his phone to his ear.

“Scott?”

3 notes · View notes

strangestofthings12 · 1 month ago

Text

Hey. Sorry I really didn’t think anyone would read let alone give a full response but thank you for doing so!! I love talking about shows I like but never really get the chance with people who actually want a conversation about it especially if we disagree😅 (not really the case here just different view points I think)

Anyways to start off I realized that I never said that I agreed that Scott shouldn’t have done it or talked to Derek or something (I had to reread it and everyone who read that I am so sorry. It was pretty much just my stream of consciousness. It definitely shouldn’t have been posted but I was annoying my only friend who kinda listens and I had already been talking about it for like an hour) I don’t think Scott meant for it to be like that but like you said he didn’t know and I think he wouldn’t have done it. I love how well you put all of that into words and I’m sorry I can’t do the same. I am going to be honest I don’t think/care about Derek all that much (I know please don’t kill me he just never worked for me) so I never felt super strongly about Scott not trusting or wanting to be apart of his pack?? I completely agree that the line where Scott says he’s not his Alpha but I low key don’t like anyone but issac and stiles for most of season two😔

I again agree that Derek doesn’t deserve what happened to him both with Kate and Scott forcing him to bite Gerard however this might be me but Derek always felt like he wanted blind trust on Scott’s part?? Again I might just not pay a lot of attention to Derek but in the early seasons (1/2) he felt like he wanted Scott to trust him and take his word on everything while playing everything super close to his chest and only actually telling Scott and Stiles anything once he was backed into a corner. But at the same time wanting Scott to tell him everything and ignoring Scott when he wasn’t useful. Again might be on me but that is how I read everything between them?? You see Derek do similar stuff with Boyd,Erica and Isaac?? Kinda?? I don’t know my brain is still fired and I’m trying not to think about 911 so I am sorry again. I would love to hear more about how you view Derek and his intentions if you are at all interested in talking about it more though!! I understand where my biases come in and I kinda hated how he treated Issac most of the time and got protective because Isaac is my son😌

Anyways this isn’t about Isaac so I’m going to shut up

I think Scott is frustrated about no one trusting anyone and is included because he only really trusts Stiles. He trusts Allison to an extent but he was scared of her family and never fully trusts that something surrounding that won’t come and bite him in the ass while not trusting Allison (despite her proving it) to be able to protect herself. Now I think a lot of that has ti do with him just wanting to protect her but I digress. Derek doesn’t trust Scott either (for valid reason Scott is kinda an asshole sometimes)(I say after doing why to much ti defend him🙄) So I don’t think it’s hypocritical of him more him not know how to change it and wanting to this creating the frustration about it because not even he trusts anyone. And again my perspective is that Scott (after he found out and started trying ti trust Derek in season one) got betrayed because he wanted to be human again. Derek told him that Peter was the answer to that and then when Scott thought maybe he would have a shot at it Derek killed Peter to steal his power thus showing Scott that he can’t trust Derek. That’s how I saw it at least😅

I am so glad you agree that the Deucalion point was stupid because that had my fuming and then thinking I was crazy and I genuinely couldn’t see where they were coming from😭😭 I couldn’t stop thinking “what if I’m wrong though”

Now the Scott is a bad friend point. Bane of my existence but we seem to pretty much agree on everything so I (hopefully) won’t chatter on this point much. If I remember right Scott confronts Stiles when he does because it is the first time he is able to and he (in my opinion) wanted to get it out of the way and was hoping that Stiles would deny it or something?? I don’t know. One thing confused me I don’t know if it’s just how I phrased it or what but you (i believe) were saying that Scott did believe Theo and admits it after but I could’ve sworn I made that point but please let me know if that was clear because I want it to be clear that I thought Scott was not only aware that not believing Stiles over Theo was wrong and felt bad for it but want Stiles to know that to.

Anyways thank you again for the response!! I loved reading it and I think you made good points. Also I hope nothing comes off as rude or anything!!

Okay this is going to be a very rambling post because I’m tired and can’t sleep until I yell about this a little so here I am to vent on a throw away account😅

Scott McCall is a character that I don’t always love and I’m not going to lie and pretend like he is my favorite anything because he’s not. Everyone who I’ve talked about teen wolf with can tell you I have my issues with him and honestly with the writing of the show in general. BUT I will never understand the hate for him. I’ve been thinking about it because I was doom scrolling TikTok for a bit before I had to go to work and came across a video talking about how horrible Scott is and the thing is that they literally made zero valid points (to me at least. I am aware I am bias and I have a bad habit of doubling down on liking a character if I think someone is being unfair or anything so I don’t know). One of her points was literally that Scott “uses Derek as a weapon after dosing him with kanima (I can’t spell don’t tell me if that’s wrong I’ll cry😌) venom” which…… doesn’t happen?? I just rewatched the show recently and I’ll admit I don’t really like season 2 and I have issues with quite a bit of it but Gerard is trying ti play Scott because he has something over him. Allison. Derek would(probably) never bite Gerard willingly and Gerard knows this. But he thinks he can outplay and force Scott in a position where he has to choose between Allison and him being a werewolf. Derek is already paralyzed when Scott is put in this position. This would’ve happened no matter what. Scott just outsmarted Gerard because he and Deaton had a plan. One that Scott doesn’t really tell anyone. We as an audience don’t even know so why would Scott tell DEREK?!? Derek who has done anything to earn his trust they are ally’s and that is it. They aren’t friends (yet?) (I don’t know Derek is weird😭). I don’t know if any of this makes sense but what can you do. I can and probably will talk about it more but I am running in like three or four hours of sleep in like the past two days and I’m sick so this is just to help my brain shut up I doubt anyone is reading anyways😅

Now another thing is she said that Scott letting Deucalion live was irresponsible. One he is a teenager…… two Scott beloved in second chances. Oh no😭 he’s such a bad person because he doesn’t think people and irredeemable and deserve to die😭😭 I have never seen people say stuff like that for superhero’s who do that same thing unless they are people who think the punisher is a role model. Now I’m sure people have but from what I’ve seen it doesn’t really happen and we literally see Deucalion being better!!! Like??? Also she said that Theo deserves to die and I’m not going to turn this into a Theo post but how are you going ti get mad at someone being used as a weapon (I still think that dumb but can at least kinda see where she’s coming from) then say that the kid who has been manipulated and twist into the worst version of himself so that he can be a weapon deserves to be dead. Mind you Scott literally isn’t the reason Theo isn’t still in the Skin-walker prison?? Like Scott immediately wants to send him back?? Liam is the one who keeps him out because he is in love thinks Theo will be useful

Last thing (for now) is People who say the Acott is a horrible friend to Stiles. I don’t get it. At all. Like I am convinced we watched a different show?? ESPECIALLY IF THEY MENTION SCOTT NOT TAKING STILES SIDE WHEN HE FOUND OUT THE STILES KILLED DONOVAN. Nobody was actually communicating in that scene which was Theo’s whole plan(I’m sorry Theo baby I love you but I will always throw you under the bus with this😔 I have to. It is literally entirety your fault) Scott was never going to be okay with what Theo told him Stiles did. Theo used the guilt and fear that stiles was feeling to get in his head. Stiles was scared because he just fucking killed someone. He didn’t know what to do. Scott literally apologized after he found out the truth and made sure stiles knew he still loved him. I don’t get why so many people seem to think that Scott being manipulated means he’s a bad friend?? Like he and stiles werent seeing eye to eye about Theo from the moment they saw him because Scott is to trusting and Stiles to distrustful but Scott is listening and literally on stiles side UNTIL Theo gets in Scotts head. Theo wanted to drive everyone away from Scoot and turn them against him so he used Scott’s weakness. Wanting to trust and see the good in people and then he made Stlies, one of the only people who would always be by Scott (and vice versa), into a gray area when everything was already scary and new and just not going well. WHICH IS LITERALLY THE PLAN??

Anyways this is way to long and if you read this all I’m sorry and thank you?? I need ti go to sleep. Hopefully I can🙄

#I once again need to go to sleep I have to be awake in like 4/5 hours #sorry for the rambling #again💀#I am not made for this #teen wolf #if there is any questions or something anyone wants me to elaborate on let me know #because I am addicted to yapping #obviously😭#I would also love to hear what people think #but please be nice #I am unfortunately very sensitive #also sorry if this is incoherent I don’t think I know how to be coherent #🥲#also can someone tell me if the view more thing is needed?? I don’t want to put a wall of text places #but I don’t know how much it matters or if people care??#anyways goodnight #hopefully for real

14 notes · View notes

sterecs-sterek-fic-recs · 3 years ago

Text

Post-Apocalyptic AU Rec List

Whether it’s zombies, a supernatural uprising or an out-of-control infection, we love reading about how our boys navigate the end of the world together. Hope you enjoy our selection of Post-Apocalyptic fic recs!

Happy reading!

-mods @thisgirlsays22 & @snarkatthemoon

💀 Enemy of My Enemy | calrissian18 | E | 8k

Stiles blinks hard. He can’t argue that he’s not quite all there, a little woozier than he would like, but he’s done more difficult things a lot worse off. The wolf didn’t know shit and Stiles sure as hell didn’t need him. He huffs out a little laugh into his own chest, leaning back against the armrest and chin dropped to his sternum, head lolling slightly. His eyelids are heavier than they were a minute ago. “What makes you think I wouldn’t use the opportunity to gut you? I hunt werewolves for sport, and so does everyone I have left.”

A careful claw tilts his chin up and it takes Stiles’ eyes a second to bring the face in front of him into stark relief. “You can barely keep your eyes open,” the wolf says softly, “I don’t think you have the upper hand now, human.”

💀 build me a city (and call it jerusalem) | orphan_account | T | 3.5k

The way Derek sees it, they'd all be screwed if the supernatural among them weren't immune to whatever it is that's put the country in a state of perpetual turmoil. He's lost track of how many times he's had to slit someones throat and flush the blood caked beneath his claws down the drain of the sink. Sometimes it's too much, for all of them. Stiles especially.

💀 Time Is Numbered By Days | secondstar | E | 7.6k

It's been fifty four days.

💀 Come with Me and Walk the Longest Mile | DevilDoll | E | 39k

"Stiles shouldn't accept rides from werewolves he meets behind abandoned convenience stores." In which the zombie apocalypse is just one of their worries.

💀 World Gone Mad | veritas_st | M | 1.6k

Stiles can’t remember when he last slept longer than three hours.

They’ve been running for so long now that it seems his body just survives on adrenaline and nothing else, a few stolen bites of food here and there, a couple of snatched hours of sleep then they’re off again.

💀 Radio Tower | HyperLittleNori (Shiguresan) | E | 130k

Inspired by the concept and stunning art by the talented Suis0u on Tumblr. Everything was different. The world he knew was gone. It’d been a long time since he’d started thinking he was probably one of the last humans on earth, that out there the only sentient beings were those that would devour him whole. He wasn’t sure why he continued with the radio broadcasts, continued to talk into nothingness. The only explanation was that there was a spark of hope in him yet that he wasn’t alone. The lonely safety Stiles has built around an old radio tower in the middle of nowhere is about to be broken. Stiles isn’t sure if Derek is a harbinger of chaos or hope at the end of the world.

💀 Ride | wolfbeater | E | 35k

The howlers emerged after the war that stripped the world of its colour. All Stiles knows is the wasteland and he calls the road his home, hunting the mutants wreaking havoc on what’s left of humanity. But when he becomes the hunted, he has to team up with the very thing he kills. And it’s possibly the worst road trip he’s been on.

💀 A Rock to Cling to While We Catch Our Breath series | Hyperion327 | various ratings | 40k

The apocalypse isn't necessarily the end. Taken from a line in the film Interstellar, here we see Derek and Stiles as they endure worlds scarred, and deformed.

#sterek #eternal sterek #sterek fanfic #sterek fic recs #teen wolf

120 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 2 years ago

Text

Scott McCall- Nesting

Over the last week everyone has noticed the change in YN’s behaviour. She went from being calm most of the time to stressing over the smallest of things. It all started when Scott came home and had blood on his shirt, instead of going and taking it off and getting it washed ASAP he made himself a drink, YN wasn’t impressed. Since then things have been getting more intense especially today at the Hale loft, the pack are having a meeting, but instead of sitting and being apart of the group YN is cleaning

“Whats gotten into YN?” Lydia asks Scott

“No idea” Scott sighs “all week she’s been acting weird”

“In what way?” Stiles asks as they all watch YN open up the fridge

“So I told you about the other day after our training session with the new wolves, she went crazy saying that from now on if I have blood on me I can’t enter the house. I know she’s one of us Derek and I don’t know that much about female wolves, but she’s constantly cleaning, every bit of dust or dirt. Just yesterday she changed our bedding, it was changed 3 days ago”

“Could she be going into heat. You know she acts weird around then” Stiles suggests. Derek and Peter look at each other

“No, we’ve dealt with that for the last 3 years. I know what she’s like and this isn’t it”

“Derek, Peter this is disgusting!” YN calls from the kitchen “this cheese went out of date yesterday” YN starts to throw out food causing Peter to sigh

“Scott, your buying us more food”

“Ok something is definitely going on with her” Lydia says crossing her arms

“Derek any idea?” Scott asks

“I think I know, but it’s not my place to say, I don’t actually think she knows herself”

“You’ll find out soon enough” Peter now says to Scott, slightly annoying him that the 2 older wolves won’t say what’s going on.

After the meeting Scott and YN head home, the first thing YN does is go to the couch and move the pillows around

“Ok what’s going on YN?” Scott asks his mate

“What do you mean?”

“Well you’ve been acting weird all week. Your pacing more and cleaning none stop. You smell different as well. Are you feeling ok?” YN looks at Scott with a frown as she thinks

“I guess I’ve been feeling more irritated and disgusted lately, but on the whole I don’t feel ill”

“Derek and Peter seem to know what was wrong, they wouldn’t tell me”

“I mean I was due for my heat last week maybe it’s that?”

“No, when your due for your heat your just tired and hungry. This is different” YN sits down on the couch pulling the blankets off the back of the couch over herself. Scott sits next to her and pulls her into him. YN continues to think about what could be going on, but she can’t figure it out.

The next few days, things are the same. Neither Scott or YN can figure out what is going on, so Scott decided the best thing to do is go and speak to Dr Deaton

“Well YNs pregnant”

“Pardon?” YN says with raised eyebrows

“Your pregnant. Normally in packs this is talked about, but as your pack is a little… different to how they usually work, theres no female wolf to explain all of this to you. Granted Derek or Peter should have, but it may have been a little awkward for them”

“So why am I cleaning all the time?”

“Your nesting YN. I’d say you’ve got another 4 months of pregnancy”

“4 months?” Scott practically yells

“Gestation period is a lot faster than a humans. Anyway. Congratulations both, just be prepared for a lot more nesting and also Scott your going to become a lot more aggressive and protective of YN. You’ll also be sensing the baby in the next week or so”

“Thank you Deaton”

“No problem”

Just as the Dr had said. Over the next week Scott has become a lot more aggressive when any of the other male wolves interacts with YN, and she has been nesting a lot! that’s why they have decided that YN would stay away from pack business for now and Scott would go on his own after dropping YN off at his moms house. Both YN and Scott can’t wait to meet their bundle of joy in a few months time.

#scott mccall x y/n #scott mccal imagine #scott mccall #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf packs

52 notes · View notes

offurywithin · 1 year ago

Text

Malia knew the details more than others why Stiles left Beacon Hills for his own future after graduation. Why he seemingly was okay to be on his own. Without the tail that was Scott. Malia knew about the mistrust; the fall out within trusting Theo a memory that got the brunette fired up. Even with the pain the hurt the male had caused on her own; she defended him to Scott. Ensured the Alpha knew who his friends were; who would pick him up when he was down. Of course my word meant nothing. Malia was a feisty one; she was someone who either wanted to have your back or wanted to rip your throat out. In Stiles case she was debating in her mind if she should just tie him up with rope especially his mouth in order to stop the words that came.

Did he not realize how he spoke? That it was like a knife right through her own heart. She wasn’t pinning no. That be pathic on her part. And Malia was a well qualified women now, she had a job at the station with his dad, she was smoking hot, any guy would be lucky to have her arm on theirs. Yet the one guy she felt that spark, that she found herself still hopelessly in love with; couldn’t understand why his impasse with Scott might not sting of their own with her. Stiles left. He had left her prior to graduation which stung. He was the only boy she remotely trusted, who she’d kill for. And right now she felt her walls around her crumbling. Malia wasn’t here to hash out old wounds; ones that never healed.

She was here; to bring him home; where the pack felt his absence, felt the hole of his brilliant mind. Malia had pushed her stung feelings to the back of her mind as lips pushed together. Of course he actually apologized for his actions. If she was hurt? Please he was a human, a boy, she could lie and claim to be moved on. But her speeding down the freeway to get to DC might admit that the brunette cares a tad too much about him. All that to say she wore a stone cold expression; as she answered.

“ Apologizing is the least you could do after all these years. I understand you needing a break a trust was broken. But Scott has way too much pride to ask you himself. To gravel for you to come home, but I don’t. “ I misled my lead in; as I blinked back my eyes before I wanted to clarify almost awkwardly now. “ I mean I have pride. But I also don’t care if you’re willing or not here. We can do this easily or hard.” The hard left a rushing burning in her chest; it be hot of me to throw him over my shoulder; to tie him up and force him into the jeep against his own will. Now that was a thought; until I heard his compliment of me needing him. I wasn’t going to live this one down was I? I had to roll my eyes as arms deflated to fall to my sides.

“ You sure never knew a good thing. Now you still don’t. You’re still a damn idiot and a coward. This isn’t about how how hot I am, or that you’d be lucky to be in a car with me for hours. Play your cards right and maybe I won’t feel the need to put tape over your mouth to shut you up.” Feisty yes, and definitely feeling a tad on edge. The female glanced down to her shifting feet; it felt different between us; obviously this man broke me to no repair. Yet I was the only one with balls to come get his ass. He was coming; an instant relieved notion as I fought the smile against my own lips.

“ Make an extra order of curly fries and yeah, Plus we never know how far that jeep of yours is gonna get us.” His; it was the one piece of Stiles I had left; and now were we able to repair what felt so loosely and broken? “ Grab whatever shit you need for a few days, there’s no telling how long this save will need.” Prepare for weeks; the nogitsune was still out there; prying on pain; to absorb us; to take over our minds.

Continued

@nowwatchmequip

A place you once called home. For me it was a person. The one boy I had believed saw me, and loved me for who I was. I was far from perfect or normal. Considering I had killed my family when I was a wolf. I had flaws, I had the pressure of wanting to show remorse, I wanted to make amends for myself. Once I found out I was no other than Peter Hale’s daughter I felt the ground beneath me shatter. I felt like the walls were closing in. I was ashamed because I heard the stories he was seen as a monster. He was a killer by nature. And the last thing I ever wanted to do was be like him. I cared about people. Especially Stiles; he was the first boy I ever loved; he made me feel special and safe. For awhile it was a part of my life I wanted to hold onto. Until it was the part I wanted to erase.

It wasn’t his fault or mine. We bonded on honesty; we had always turned to each other. Until I was no longer the girl he wanted at his side. It happened fast and all at once. It was a pain I had buried so deep I pretended it never existed. I had kept my distance, of course I helped out his dad at the station which meant I had a peace of him with me. I wanted to help, I knew I had the strength to make a difference when it counted. So I tried, but the impulse i had to travel miles at a time to get Stiles was called insanity. It had been years since we spoke one word to each other. Since we had even remotely wanted to talk. Did I miss him? Yeah not that I’d ever admit it. But he was someone I deeply loved; Someone I wanted to try to make amends with; or in our case face the music of that awkward conversation. My visit wasn’t about me. It was about him. He was the missing piece; Scott was on a death mission to save his true love from limbo; it made you think.

So here I was; at the outside of his deep. Hands curled into fist; as I knocked on the door. I could only imagine the shock that Stiles felt when he heard my voice. I knew him; and I knew his clumsy self; when it surprising when I heard the wood knocking to the floor from behind this door. No absolutely not.

I had to hold the laugh that dared to fall; instead I had kept knocking. Did I care if I woke up his stupid neighbors? No. I was a girl on a mission. This impossible mission of saving Allison from herself felt incomplete without him. So I was going against my own rules to forget him; to forget us. Sucking in a exhaled breath as I heard the locks of his door; which led to his reveal. The door edging open. I had to let my eyes rake over his frame, he was handsome, the short brunette locks, the FBi look good on him. If I wanted to tease him I could’ve but I had more pressing matters on my mind.

“ Took you long enough, as for your neighbors do you think I care if I woke them up? No. Why didn’t you come to Beacon Hills when Scott called? I thought you’d never turn your back on him. “ Defiant in her voice as she pushed pass the male entering his apartment.

25 notes · View notes

sterek-roundrobinchallenge · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: There’s Nothing Better Than This

Written for @sterek-roundrobinchallenge.

Author: @fanfics-fix.

Team: #3

Ship(s): Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Cora Hale

Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops, Alternate Universe - Human, Professor Derek Hale

Warning(s): none for this piece, i think

Summary:

Stiles owns a Coffeeshop in the campus of Berkeley. Derek is a new Professor in the said University.

And Isaac knows both of them.

The apron he is wearing right now is a gift from Lydia, one that she got him for his twenty-fifth birthday when she finally realized that this was it, that Stiles had gone to four years of university to get a Major in Criminology and a Minor in Languages only to end up as the owner of Moon Bites. Stiles had been offended that she had taken more than a year to realize that, but given her and Jackson's turbulent relationship status at the time which had her attention torn to bits, he had forgiven her right that instant, lips quirking up in a smile at her approval.

The apron is a sign of her blessing, and Stiles takes great care of it, wears it only on the best of occasions or when he needs some extra luck. Like today.

Today is the first day of a new semester, and these are the hardest, even now; Stiles has had numerous dealings with frantic college kids who don't know their schedule or their way to their next class, all of them stumbling inside his not-so-little coffee shop to ask for help, and he still doesn't know the best way to approach them. He tries his best though; The kids who are rude in the morning warm up just like the sun rays falling through the floor to ceiling windows of his shop by the time afternoon rolls around, and he makes friendly with them every time, talks to them and eases their worries and fears. The Freshman kids especially, because Stiles knows how hard it is to be away from home for the first time ever, even if he could (and did) drive back to his dad in under three hours when he was in college. It's rewarding to make the kids smile, though, and he thinks he is doing an okay job with them.

Now he knows how Satomi Ito had felt, almost a decade ago, when Stiles, barely eighteen, had stumbled in this very same shop and she had practically adopted him. He'd been not easy to tame, as she likes to say fondly, but he is definitely her favorite.

Stiles sighs, nostalgia hitting him hard, and wishes that Satomi had never moved away; he misses her, but he knows the move was important. But then the bell jingles, announcing his first customer of the day and this semester, and he remains nothing but grateful that Satomi saw him worthy enough of her legacy.

Straightening his apron, he walks out to the front.

Scott McCall. A few weeks shy of his eighteenth birthday, the kid is charming, and Stiles instantly likes him. He is not frantic though, or even late for his classes. Moon Bites opens at six in the morning, and it's not even seven right now, and yet, Scott looks ready to tackle more than a few feet of books.

Literally, apparently.

Scott groans around the large black coffee he'd ordered. Scott had assured him it's not his favorite, but if he doesn't want to fall asleep in class, he needs this bitter elixir.

Stiles had asked what class this could possibly be, and that's how he found one puppy-eyed Scott looking up at him, groaning like he is in pain, and complaining about his stupid professor Scott hasn't even met.

"I mean," Scott sips at his straw, makes a face, and Stiles tries to hide his grin behind the desserts display case. "It's literally the first day! He could have waited, I dunno, a day or two or seven before dumping the whole semester's reading list on us?"

Stiles wipes down an already cleaned part of the counter. "But isn't this good? Your Professor sent you the whole semester's reading list. This way you can plan ahead, and if some parties throw a wrench in your plans," Scott snorts, "You can always make a new plan, because you already know what you have to read." Seriously, this Professor knows what he is doing. Stiles would have loved this man as his Professor, he definitely sounds better than the one he had for English during his time.

Scott shrugs. "I dunno, it's just overwhelming?"

"Ah." That, Stiles gets. "You'll do good buddy, I am sure." Scott beams. Stiles smiles back. "You're literally my first customer, so you're obviously taking this whole College thing like a champ,"

"Yeah," Scott sips at the rest of his coffee, and Stiles looks at him for a minute before he realizes that Scott's done talking. Awkwardly he shuffles backwards, and for lack of anything better to do, takes out his phone from the pocket of his apron. There's nothing of note in his notifications, so he simply scrolls through his phone for a minute before an idea tumbles into mind.

> Jerk Douchemore [06:57]

i hope your dream is filled with lizards

The reply comes instantly.

< Jerk Douchemore [06:57]

i sincerely wish your day is filled with crying children

Stiles grins down at his phone.

"Wow, what a douche," Stiles does not jump three feet in the air, he does not.

"What the fuck! Scott!" He looks at the kid with surprise, hand resting on his chest where his heart jackrabbiting inside. The kid just shrugs, like he hadn't just given Stiles a heart attack. "Don't do that again,"

Scott sips the last of his coffee, if the hollow vacuum noise is anything to go by, and looks at him like he doesn't get why what he did is wrong.

Kids are fucking weird, seriously.

Stiles just shrugs it off, sends Jackson a proper goodnight text, and engages with Scott, who seems bored. He learns that Scott's mom is a nurse, and Stiles has, apparently, crossed paths with her numerous times; not surprising, given that Beacon Hills is a small town. Melissa McCall has a tenuous schedule, and so Scott is used to waking up early to make himself breakfast and do other chores to help out his mom. But here he has nothing to do.

"You can always take up jogging. I did that in my second year. I hear it is good for your health."

Scott makes a face. "Ugh,"

The bell jingles, signaling other customers. Stiles pats Scott's right shoulder and looks up to see one of the two people who made him start jogging in the first place.

The second one isn't here, and Stiles isn't yet sure how he feels about that.

"Great timing," he says, and watches as Isaac Lahey grins slowly and winks at Scott in greeting, sweat covered body clashing with his shining face and curly blonde hair. "We were just talking about Scott taking up jogging,"

Isaac waves at Scott, who looks dumbstruck—Isaac has that effect on people—and then moves towards Stiles' side of the counter. "You, Stiles 'I can't fucking walk another step' Stilinski—"

Stiles puts his hand on Isaac's mouth. Isaac, very maturely, licks it.

"Ew, very mature,"

His friend just smirks and walks towards the backroom, where he'll change into his work clothes.

"Ass,"

"He does have a great one," Scott murmurs, and Stiles is not too proud to say he'd forgotten the kid was still here. "He works here?"

Stiles internally sighs. Another heart, broken. Or it's going to be. "Yup, he is my manager, and painfully taken,"

Scott's olive skin darkens. "Wha- I- I didn't- I thought you were the manager!"

Stiles chuckles and shakes his head. The bell rings again, and this time, it is a group of three kids. He looks back at Scott. "I'm the owner."

It becomes a routine after that day. Scott comes in every morning, sometimes to study, sometimes to just talk, but mostly to ogle Isaac as he works. Isaac doesn't mind, but he also doesn't talk to Scott much, afraid of leading him on. Stiles just watches, and works, and listens as Scott complains: about his luck in love life, which is non-existent; about how he misses home and his mom; about his enthusiasm for animals, and how he hates that English is something he has to take; and finally, about how much he hates Professor Hale.

It's been a month of this, and still, all Stiles knows of this Hale is that he is stuck-up, rude, and a know-it-all who picks on Scott. Stiles doesn't know the Professor, he must be a new one, but he knows that Isaac gets increasingly agitated whenever Scott badmouths the Professor. Isaac hasn't said anything yet, or told Scott to stop, but Stiles knows he wants to.

So it's not surprising when during this rant, which is probably the worst they've heard yet, Isaac walks over from his perch on the other corner of the counters with a determined set to his jaw. Stiles scrambles for anything to distract him so there's no bloodshed, metamorphically speaking.

"Oh!" He says loudly, and the students in the shop all look at him like they want him gone. Even Scott startles. Oops. He lowers his voice considerably. "Um, Isaac, weren't you telling me about Cora? She did that thing, um, what do you—she and her team won the states!"

Isaac completely melts at the mention of his girlfriend, and talks about how she led her basketball team to win the State Championship. Scott deflates, but hey, in Stiles' book a little heartbreak is better than hearing your crush say mean things to you. And Isaac can be mean when he wants to.

Stiles sighs in relief when his plan works, and walks over to one of the customers who wants a refill of his coffee. He wonders, though, how Isaac knows Professor Hale. Isaac and him have been friends since their junior year in high school, when his dad brought Isaac home after the horrible part of Isaac's life came to light, but still Isaac is a private person. Stiles doesn't push him to answer anything, ever, because he knows Isaac would come to him if it's important. Or if he thinks Stiles absolutely needs to know something, like how Cora has an older brother who knits and gave Isaac a Star Wars themed scarf for his and Cora's first Christmas with Cora’s family.

Apparently, this big brother is a real softie. Stiles would love to meet this man, and Cora too; they haven't met yet but according to Isaac, she is like a slightly taller Lydia.

Stiles really, really wants to meet them. But for now, he just watches as the various students mingle around in his shop, smiles on their faces, ridiculous stories falling from their mouths, frustration from the day’s classes melting from their bodies as the pastries and drinks make it into their stomach.

Stiles doubts there’s a better job than this.

#sterek rrc #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #prompt three #round one #round one prompt three #isaac lahey #scott mccall #cisaac

136 notes · View notes

emily-smx · 3 years ago

Text

Lies of Omission

I know that this scene has been discussed hundreds of times already, and there are probably posts out there that are very similar to this one. However, I saw this being brought up again on Instagram, and I feel the need to say my bit about it.

The question brought up over and over again is “Why did Scott believe Theo over Stiles?”.

He didn’t.

In the entire scene, there’s never once the question of whose story he should believe – as far as the boys are concerned, there is only one story. That’s what causes the miscommunication.

I also noticed something else while watching the scene: nothing that Stiles said actually contradicted Theo’s story.

To go into more depth, I’m going to go through each bit of the dialogue and explain what’s basically being said from each character’s point of view.

[Scott holds out the bloody wrench]

Stiles: Where did you get that?

Scott: This is yours? Why didn't you tell me?

Stiles: I was going to...

Scott: No, but why didn't you tell me when it happened?

Stiles: I couldn't.

So far, it’s pretty straightforward.

Scott shows Stiles the wrench, who immediately reacts in a guilty manner. It’s important to note that Scott’s “This is yours?” holds quite a bit of surprise in it, so he clearly hadn’t already made up his mind about what happened.

Stiles takes the wrench and looks at it, while Scott asks him “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I know that, to some people, his question implies that he’s already leapt to a conclusion about what happened, but this isn’t necessarily the case. He hasn’t specified what it is he believes Stiles has done; all this shows is that he knows something big has happened.

Stiles’ response sounds incredibly guilty, and he struggles to look Scott in the eye. It’s clear at this point that he’s done something bad.

Scott: You killed him? You killed Donovan?

Stiles: Well, he was going to kill my dad. Huh? Was I supposed to just let him?

Scott: You weren't supposed to do this. None of us are.

This is where it starts to get more confusing.

Scott asks whether Stiles killed Donovan, and again the surprise and disbelief in his voice shows that he hadn’t already made up his mind prior to this conversation.

Stiles responds by telling him “he was going to kill my dad [...] was I supposed to just let him?” (i.e. “I killed Donovan because he was going to kill my dad”).

The worst thing about this is that it essentially confirms what Theo was saying. Theo said “maybe it was because he threatened to kill his dad”.

It also implies to Scott that this was not self-defense, because Stiles’ dad wasn’t there. Instead, it tells Scott that Stiles chose to kill Donovan because he couldn’t risk Donovan hurting his father.

Also, Stiles is asking Scott “Was I supposed to just let him [kill my father]?” (i.e. “was I supposed to let him go free and risk him killing my father?”)

If Stiles had explained how much he regretted it, Scott (despite still not knowing the whole story) would likely have reacted differently. Instead, it sounds to Scott as though Stiles has done something terrible and is now defending it.

Hence, he replies by essentially saying that no, his response was not justified. “You weren't supposed to do this.”

Stiles: You think I had a choice?

Scott: There's always a choice.

This is where it’s important to look at the different viewpoints. Scott is still under the impression that Stiles killed Donovan to protect his father. So, from his point of view, Stiles did have a choice.

Stiles: Yeah, well, I can't do what you can, Scott. I know you wouldn't have done it. You probably would have just figured something out, right?

Scott: I'd try.

Stiles: Yeah, because you're Scott McCall! You're the True Alpha! Guess what? All of us can't be True Alphas! Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. Some of us are human!

Once again, it’s clear that they’re talking about completely different things.

Stiles is talking about what he can do physically. He’s saying that he couldn’t easily fight off Donovan the way that Scott could have. He’s saying that Scott could have found a solution that didn’t end in one of them dying.

But Scott still doesn’t know that. He still thinks that Stiles killed Donovan by using disproportionate force, because he was scared that if Donovan survived then he’d harm his father. From his point of view, Stiles is saying that murder was the only option, and he couldn’t figure something else out.

So he responds by essentially saying that yes, he would try and figure out another solution to protect his father and also not kill Donovan.

It’s an entirely reasonable response, but obviously from Stiles’ point of view, Scott is being very unfair here. This, along with the fact that he’s being crushed under guilt and stress and anger, causes him to lash out.

Scott: So you had to kill him?

Stiles: Scott, he was going to kill my dad!

Scott: But the way that it happened... There's a point when it's... It's not self-defense anymore!

Stiles: What are you even talking about? I didn't have a choice, Scott!

Scott, to his credit, doesn’t get angry, and instead gets back to the main point. He’s clearly very desperate at this point, desperate for there to be something he’s missed.

So he asks whether Stiles had to kill him – note that this isn’t simply if Stiles killed Donovan, it’s more about whether it was the only choice. Keep in mind, that Scott cares a lot about Stiles. He doesn’t want to fall out with him.

Unfortunately, Stiles’ response only emphasised what he’d previously claimed, making it sound like that was his only reason.

This is where both characters should have paid more attention to each other’s words. Scott’s comment about “the way that it happened” should have driven Stiles to questioning what he thought had happened; and Stiles’ confusion should have again made Scott question whether he had the story right.

However, they’re both upset and stressed, and so it’s understandable that at this point they aren’t thinking clearly and rationally.

Stiles: You don't even believe me, do you?

Scott: I want to.

Stiles: Okay. All right, so... So, believe me, then. Scott, say you believe me. Say it. Say you believe me.

[Stiles steps forward brandishing the wrench and Scott flinches]

Scott: Stiles, we can't kill people that we're trying to save.

Stiles: Say you believe me!

Scott: We can't kill people. Do you believe that?

This is where everybody hates Scott, but again it’s taking everything out of context.

When Stiles says “believe me”, he means “believe me that there was no choice, I was about die and it was an accident”, but Scott hears “believe me that my only choice was to kill Donovan to protect my dad”.

Scott wants to believe that Stiles’ actions were necessary, but he knows that killing somebody to prevent the possibility of something else from happening in the future is not justified (especially when there are other ways they could have protected his dad).

Also, Theo was cunning and he told Scott “maybe Stiles thought he had to keep going to defend himself” – which feeds into Scott’s belief that Stiles might have thought it was his only choice, despite this not being the case.

I also want to point out that Scott flinching is likely due to the trauma of Void Stiles. In Letharia Vulpina (3x19), by the animal clinic in the pouring rain, Void Stiles tortured Scott. The similarities of the situation likely caused him to flinch (and then there’s obviously the fact that flinching when somebody steps forward with a weapon is a completely natural response, even without all the trauma).

Stiles: Well, what do I do about this? What do you want me to do? Okay, just be... Scott, just tell me how to fix this, all right? Please, just tell me-- what do you want me to do?

Scott: Don't worry about Malia or Lydia. We'll find them. Maybe... Maybe you should talk to your dad.

This is when Stiles essentially gives up. From his point of view, he’s tried defending himself, but Scott is still condemning him; he’s being blamed for something that was in no way his fault.

Instead of lashing out again, he accepts that he was at fault (although he wasn’t – it was his guilt that was persuading him that he was in the wrong), and begs Scott to tell him how he can fix his mistake.

Scott, who is also very overwhelmed, suggests he talk to his dad, who will be able to fix it and sort everything out.

I know some people equate this to Scott kicking Stiles out of the pack, but I really don’t think it is.

Scott saying “Don't worry about Malia or Lydia” is not him forbidding Stiles from speaking to them. It’s simply a callback to the beginning of the conversation, when Stiles informed Scott that he’d been unable to get in touch with Malia or Lydia.

And yes, he dismisses Stiles, but that’s because so many other things are going on. Hayden is directly behind them, dying in the animal clinic. Scott needs to go and help her, and Stiles being there will probably just increase the tension and make things more difficult.

In Conclusion:

It was a miscommunication. Scott and Stiles both thought they were talking about the same thing, which led to them not understanding what the other was trying to say.

Scott did not come into the argument already believing Stiles was guilty. His reaction to Theo’s story was, literally, “that’s not possible”. It was Stiles’ accidental confirmation of Theo’s story that led Scott to believe it was true.

“believe me” does not mean “believe my story”, because to their knowledge there was only one story.

Scott did not kick Stiles out of the pack.

I firmly believe that the only mistake either character made (beyond hiding the whole secret in the first place) is not pushing further to make sure they were both talking about the same thing. Scott should have asked for Stiles’ full story of the events, and Stiles should have explained what happened when he had the chance. It can, however, be put down to their mindsets at the time: Theo chose a good time to tell Scott, when both of them were already overwhelmed with all the events going on.

#teen wolf #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #sciles #scott mccall defense squad #tw 5x09 #teen wolf meta #long post

228 notes · View notes

colethewolf · 3 years ago

Text

Eli Hale Headcanons

(because I’m still in disbelief that Derek & Stiles literally have a child in canon now)

1. Eli is prone to a very special Derek-level of broody behavior as he especially likes to scowl.

2. Eli possesses a perfect mix of Derek’s snark & Stiles’ quick-thinking sarcasm.

3. Eli attends school at Beacon Hills High & maintains decent grades.

4. Unlike his parents, Eli doesn’t enjoy sports. He doesn’t play basketball or lacrosse. He likes music instead.

5. Speaking of music, Eli is the lead singer and guitarist of a scrappy little garage band that he put together with his 2 best friends.

6. Eli’s band is called “BLUE IS PRETTY” which he named after the mantra his parents always say, due to there being a negative stigma towards people with blue werewolf eyes in the werewolf community.

7. Eli is a beta werewolf who is more likely to punch a bully in the face than sit down and talk things out, taking more after his human father.

8. One of Eli’s favorite activities is the weekly training exercises he does with Derek to help train his werewolf abilities.

9. Eli’s werewolf powers kicked in at age 5, which took both Derek & Stiles by surprise, because werewolves don’t typically get their powers until around age 9-10.

10. Surprise was an understatement. Eli’s powers kicked in during a normal trip to the grocery store wherein Eli took off running faster than a human child ever could, leading to an embarrassing display of Derek trying to chase after him and catch him.

11. Eli’s first word was “fucker” because Stiles has a mild case of road rage. This led to an awkward explanation later that night when Stiles had to explain to his husband why their son kept calling everything a “fucker”.

12. Eli wears Derek’s old leather jacket, which is pretty loose on him, but it was originally Derek’s father’s. It’s special. And Eli knows it makes him look cool.

13. Eli drives Stiles’ jeep, which yes, still works! It’s held together by magic now, as opposed to duct tape.

14. Eli is gay, but doesn’t have a boyfriend yet. Although he does have a crush on a cute hall monitor who always stops him for listening to music in the halls.

15. Eli purposely wears his headphones and loudly listens to music in the halls for this reason.

16. Eli isn’t close to Derek’s uncle, Peter, as Derek & Stiles have opted to not establish that relationship due to Peter being a seriously bad influence.

17. Eli has an after-school job with his friends as ushers at the local movie theater.

18. There’s a show on Netflix about teenage werewolves that’s really bad & moderately offensive to werewolf culture, but Eli & Derek like to binge watch new seasons together to mock how much the show gets wrong about being a werewolf.

19. Eli’s bedroom is painted black with lots of various posters from his favorite bands plastered onto the walls. He keeps his room at just the right amount of messy & likes to burn candles that aren’t strong enough to burn his werewolf nose right off his face.

20. Eli’s wolf form is devoid of eyebrows, just like Derek’s & Eli likes it because he thinks it makes him look cooler than other werewolves.

What are your Eli-Stilinski Hale headcanons, ya’ll?

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #eli hale #eli stilinski hale #teen wolf

2K notes · View notes

dreamlandforever · 1 year ago

Text

@writersmonth Prompt: Day 5 - Sun

I have to be honest, this whole writing something everyday is getting harder and harder, and we haven't finished the first week yet. Either way, here's today's story:

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC: 1.6K

AO3

V. Damsel in Distress

The sunlight coming through the window was illuminating Stiles’ notebook. He frowned slightly, unable to read some of his notes from the glare on his mechanical pencil. Before he was able to even move the notebook to avoid the glare, something covered the light and he was suddenly able to see what he had written in the notebook again. Stiles said nothing and continued reading, taking advantage of the fact that he could now read without trouble.

When they were in middle school, Scott would sit down and play with Stiles for a few minutes without saying anything. Once the first few games were won or lost, Scott would talk a mile a minute, much too fast for just anyone to understand, getting whatever was bothering him off his chest. So, Stiles gave him a full five minutes before his impatience got the best of him.

“You know, there’s an actual door downstairs.” He said, going for nonchalance but failing for a mile. The eagerness in his voice to find out why his best friend was there, especially entering his room via the window when he literally has a key, is more than obvious even if said best friend wasn’t a werewolf.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t one?” And the way that the joke falls flat makes Stiles turn for the first time to face his best friend.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, all business. Because if he’s learned anything the last few years is that things can go bad in an instant.

“Why did you do it?” Scott asked softly, stepping inside the room to sit in Stiles’ bed.

And Stiles should have really seen that coming. He moved carefully, being mindful of his leg. Ever since they were kids, Scott has always been the kind of kid to try and help anyone who might be injured. Showing any kind of pain right now will only make Stiles’ situation worse.

“You were in trouble.” Stiles said simply. Because to him, it made sense.

Scott knows him enough for the answer to be enough as well.

“Stiles, I am a werewolf.” He sounded a lot more wounded that Stiles had thought he would, but he waited him out. “I heal.” His voice was almost too low for Stiles to catch, but not quite.

“It still hurts, Scott. We are best friends. They tried to kill you.” He spoke slowly, as if he were explaining things to a child. Last night they had been attacked by hunters. They had gone after Scott, and he was distracted trying to get Liam away from the arrows and bullets, when one of them was standing right behind with a knife. Stiles did not have to think twice before standing right in the middle, taking a stab to his leg, but giving Scott and Liam enough time to get away. A wolfsbane laced stab wound would heal for him, and it might have meant something far worse for either of the wolves. Luckily for them, not much happened after that once Chris Argent had reached them and called the hunters off.

A lot more trigger happy hunters had been coming down to Beacon Hills since Gerard died, thinking there was no one around to guard the land. They usually don’t get into situations as dire as last night, but they had been caught off guard in the middle of the woods, only Isaac, Scott, Liam, and Stiles. They had been surrounded before they had a chance to realize what was going on.

“You don’t get in the middle of that!” Scott half-yelled, exasperated. “Maybe next time I’ll just kill you myself, it will go much faster!”

“It’s who we are!” Stiles was yelling now, but he wasn’t able to stop himself. “And I got stabbed in the leg, Scott, I wasn’t trying to hold my entrails inside. Which you have done before, might I add. You were in trouble, Scott. It’s not werewolves and humans, you know that. That doesn’t apply only to when I’m in trouble, or I speak up during a meeting. It applies all the time!” Scott’s face was enough for Stiles to know Scott knew that.

“I know.” He mumbled. “But when the hell did a stab wound become something normal, Stiles? It isn’t. You shouldn’t have to know what that feels like. Or how to treat it. Or how to keep it hidden, Stiles.”

“You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.” Stiles said solemnly.

“Don’t you dare quote Batman at me right now.” But there was a small smile on his face, even if he was trying his best to hide it.

“We are brothers, Scott. Your fight is my fight.”

“So you decided to be Daphne?”

“Hey! Daphne is a great addition. And I was not a damsel in distress. I was fully aware of what was going to happen. I made sure he hit the leg and not my spleen!”

“You’re our strategist, let me be the fighter, will you?”

Stiles doesn’t say anything, but he just smiles sadly at Scott. They both know they will be at this point again next time. Because they always do. Stiles will do what he has to, and Scott will worry.

“Why the window?” Stiles asked finally, standing in front of it and letting the sun bathe his face. It felt good after any kind of injury to remember that he was alive. That they had pulled through.

“Your dad was at the door having words with Derek.”

“WHAT?” Stiles asked, way louder than he had expected himself to be.

“Apparently, the Sheriff does know when you are limping, and he decided to blame Derek.”

“He wasn’t even there last night!”

“Derek was indeed trying to say that.” Scott conceded.

Stiles made a move to go downstairs, and Scott was immediately by his side acting as his crutch. Stiles just let it happen, and made it downstairs in half the time it would have taken him on his own.

The Sheriff looked at them from his position on the couch next to Derek, both with a beer in hand.

“It wasn’t Derek’s fault!” Stiles defended valiantly the moment both his feet were off the stairs.

Derek was by his side almost immediately, crouching down to check at his injury. Stiles fought him off, but Scott the Traitor moved to help Derek look while holding Stiles still.

“You'll be fine.” Derek said finally, standing back up and turning to the Sheriff. “He’ll probably limp for a few days, and it will take a few days for it to heal, but it’s mostly superficial. The hunter probably thought the wolfsbane would do the job, not the stab wound.”

The Sheriff nodded, before letting out a sigh. “Are the rest of the kids okay?”

Derek just nodded. “Chris got there in time. Stiles getting in the middle of whatever was happening was not… the worst thing. When they hurt a human it made them hesitate. Also, not having one of us be poisoned is always good.” He turned to Stiles then, brows furrowed. “That does not mean you get to pull shit like that again. Ever. You see a knife and you run the other way.”

Stiles was about to complain, but ended up remaining silent. He nodded with a smile. This dance he was familiar with, too. Somewhere in between trying to stay alive and becoming a Pack, Derek Hale had become a friend. A friend who worried. A friend his father had just yelled at.

“Wait! Why were the two of you having words?” He asked, confused.

Derek just shook his head. “I heard what happened, wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed.”

“I didn’t.” Stiles answered immediately, like it hadn’t already been established.

Derek completely ignored him. “They told me you got stabbed and that Scott was sulking.”

“I wasn’t sulking!” Scott defended himself, dragging Stiles to a nearby chair.

“You so were, bro.” Stiles said. Because if Scott could betray him then so could he. Scott shot him a look, but still sat right next to him and helped him prop his leg high on another chair.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t dying from gangrene and the Sheriff was on his way out. We just went over a few details of what happened.” Derek explained, the tip of his ears turning a very interesting shade of pink.

“I need you to be more careful.” The Sheriff said to Stiles, arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s not allowed to die on us.” Scott said solemnly, arm firm and unmoving from Stiles’ shoulder.

And the Sheriff just nodded, like that made sense. It didn’t make sense to Stiles.

But then Derek nodded too.

“He’s not.” He agreed.

“Glad we all established that?” Stiles asked nervously. “I want to go for a walk.” His leg hurt, and he was not going to spend all afternoon trying to understand what unspoken conversation and weird camaraderie thing was going on with his dad and one of the Alphas. He could focus on that when he felt no pain.

Derek rolled his eyes, but helped Scott by acting as Stiles’ crutch on his other side.

“We'll bring him back in a few minutes, when he gets tired.” Scott said to the Sheriff, guiding Stiles towards the door.

“Hey! I can so stand a lot more than a few minutes.” Stiles defended.

“Come on, let’s see if we can get you to tan a little.” Scott said, and Stiles followed obediently. His friends were okay, and he was going to be okay, too. He could deal with some awkward conversations every now and then if it meant they were all alive at the end of day.

#writersmonth2023 #writing prompt #jwritessometimes #teen wolf #pre-sterek #scott and stiles friendship

3 notes · View notes