#i know very well i am in a minority in liking scott mccall a lot while shipping sterek

[buckybarnesss]

“Scott’s awareness of the Stiles and Derek thing is interesting to dissect” hi yes please do!

I find him a bit hard to read when it comes to this tbh. Scott seems aware that Something is going on throughout season 3. He always seems shocked to realize that they get along better, even though Scott is usually faster at trusting people than Stiles. (I wouldn’t be surprised if Derek/Scott’s issues early on are the source of this bewilderment.)

I genuinely can’t tell if/when Scott might have realized that their bond was more than platonic. Like he has so much “right in front of my salad?” energy that he must have noticed Stiles’s attraction at the very least, right? Was it Derek’s leaving in the s4 finale that made Scott realize that Stiles’s feelings were actually romantic? He seems very aware in s5 that Derek is a Sore Spot for Stiles.

Jeffrey-boy seems to have taken the whole “show, don’t tell” thing a little too literally here.

the thing about scott is he's really, really good at denial. especially self-denial. combining his world class levels of denial he also has multiple hang up about derek that he has a hard time letting go of and he has a specific way he perceives stiles (which is part of the mess in s5).

like he sees but he's also stuffing his fingers in his ears about it because derek and stiles being derek-n-stiles doesn't line up with what he expects from either of them.

scott also has the dubious privilege of being there from the beginning. it was just the three of them at the start of this whole fiasco.

there's hints but scott doesn't really get to see the big stiles and derek development in season 1so while he seems to kind of pick up on stiles possibly being attracted to derek because i mean look at this.

he's mostly seeing stiles being annoyed and angry but he isn't necessarily reading the deeper reasons for it because he's not privy to it.

than season 3 happens.

things shift in s3 when he realizes that he and stiles are not at all on the same page about derek. stiles has been spending time with derek outside of his knowledge for months and they're friendly.

Top 10 Anime Betrayals in Tattoo.

and than his reaction to derek and stiles messing around in the next episode. peter's entirely unsurprised and amused by this which just hints at stiles getting derek to be playful isn't new to him but for scott this is Huge. This is world altering for scott.

stiles becoming friendly with derek is one of the reasons scott's perception and trust of derek begins to shift into moving past his anger and resentment that was present in s1 and 2.

i know people say scott doesn't trust stiles and that's a whole thing to unpack and i'd have to rewatch 5a to parse it entirely but scott does trust stiles. while stiles is often right he also as often doesn't have the proof to back up his intuition in the moment.

scott is also way more scared that stiles isn't himself after the nogitune. he can see stiles spiraling and after derek leaves stiles becomes even more paranoid and irritable. almost as if stiles lost an anchor. which scott just went through himself with allison's death.

at the end of s4 this look is layered

he's terrified of losing stiles the same way stiles is afraid of losing him. it creates a weird feedback loop where that very thing happens because of their fears are exploited by theo. stiles and scott are so scared to lose each other and depend on seeing each other a particular way because of the roles they've assigned themselves they don't communicate properly.

stiles and scott are incredibly dysfunctional kids from different kinds of broken homes. it's important to remember that when dissecting their friendship.

the benefit of a doubt scene in season 5 says scott fucking noticed because his starting overture at trying to convince stiles about giving theo the benefit of a doubt is derek.

(theo is a hybrid peter-derek which is funny but he's also a dark mirror of stiles in a lot of ways. it's partly why scott is drawn to him.)

it's a calculated move on scott's part to bring up derek to appeal to stiles's emotions over his logic but he also is aware that he needs to tread fucking lightly here. the subject of derek is a double edged sword.

also scott witnessed derek's whole ass everything in 3B even if he was distracted. he knew derek would help look for stiles and protect him without a question.

i think scott figured out there was something going on in 3A and by 5A he knew it was something stiles was incredibly fucked up over but he wasn't the one that could fix it.

[jazziwritesthings]

We Were - Derek Hale

Inspired by We Were by Keith Urban

Lyrics in Bold

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 2082

Warnings: Cancer, Death, maybe swears

A/N: I’m Sorry.

*******

We were just a couple years short of the age By my name on a fake ID And still 'bout a hundred away from the day Your daddy said you could run with me We were a couple of line steppers Who just couldn't wait to step over the line

Derek met you when you were both 17. You tried so hard to try to get him to trust you. He wasn’t about to let himself get invested in someone again. Not after Paige. It had only been a few years and Derek was still broken about it, but that was something that would never leave him. He knew he couldn’t make that mistake again. No, he wouldn’t, or so he thought. After almost a year you had worn him down and got him to open up a bit. He liked being around you. You made him feel like a normal teenager. Then the fire happened. You got a call from an unknown number, it was Derek at the sheriff station. He asked if you could pick him up. You borrowed your dad’s car and definitely went over the speed limit trying to reach him as fast as possible. You ran into the sheriff's station and saw him just sitting on a bench. You walked over and stood in front of him. Without warning he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head into your stomach. You could feel his shaking and eventually you heard his sobs. You just stood there playing with his hair telling him you loved him, all while trying to keep the sound of your sobbing controlled.

We were gonna make it, weren't we, baby? Had it all laid out in our mind By the time we knew time was runnin' out We done run out of time

He had to leave Beacon Hills. He had no choice, he was a minor and now Laura was his guardian, and she couldn’t stay here. You understood why but you didn’t want to be separated from your best friend. The day they left was one of the toughest days of your life. You and Derek had spent the night in your room. Your dad wasn’t around much since your mom passed, so it was always just you and him. That night was the night when you both admitted you loved each other, more than just friends. That was the night you gave him everything and he gave everything to you. The next morning was rough. The car was already packed and Laura was just waiting for Derek. You stood in front of the garage with your hands on his chest and his on your waist with your foreheads touching. “I love you so much. Promise you won’t forget me?” He let out a slight laugh/sigh and pressed one last kiss to your lips, “ I promise.”

And we were leather jackets hangin' onto a Harley Two heartbeats in the moonlight

The first year he was gone he had tried to keep in contact with you. It wasn’t easy, he didn’t have a phone and could only reach you by pay phone. Laura said it wasn’t a good idea to keep that kind of stuff because it meant that hunters could track them easier. Derek would never tell you that part. As far as you knew, he was normal. His whole family was normal and the fire was an accident. Eventually it got hard for him to keep contacting you. Every time he heard your voice or you told him things that were happening around Beacon Hills he became so homesick and it reminded him too much of his family. It hurt too much for him to continue. He didn’t mean for it to happen how it did. He just quit calling and writing and before he knew it, six years had gone by. Laura had told him she had some business to attend to and that she would be back in a few weeks. When she didn’t call Derek at all the first week he started to worry. He finally went through Laura’s things and found where she had gone and why. She had gone home. He packed what little they had and raced back to Beacon Hills.

He arrived and it seemed like nothing had changed. Everything looked the same and honestly he felt homesick all over again. He didn’t know where to go so he went to the only place he knew he could. Walking up the front steps of his childhood home brought up a lot of pleasant memories. Most of them were his mom sitting on those stairs giving some of the best advice she could offer. He looked around the porch and noticed there were bouquets everywhere. Some were very dead and others looked semi-fresh. He’d been there about a day when he heard someone pull up in a car. He secretly watched out of the upstairs window. As soon as she got out of the car Derek knew who it was immediately. He could smell her all the way up the stairs and she still smelled the same. He got brave and quietly went down the stairs. He watched as she turned and walked back to her car. He walked out onto the porch, “ Y/n?” You froze at the sound of your name. In all the years you were coming here no one had even stepped foot on the property. You turned around and were surprised to see a man standing there staring at you, “ I’m sorry. Do I know you?” He walked off the porch and when the sunlight lit up his features she took a step back, “ Derek?” He looked at you with a huge smile on his face, “Yeah.” You looked at him for only a moment before your mind was made up. You walked over to him and grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss. The butterflies and the fire were still there. You had had other boyfriends before, but none of them ever measured up to Derek. No matter how hard you tried nobody could compare to him. It wasn’t that long before he disappeared on you again. You shouldn’t have been surprised but you were, and it still hurt just as much as the first time.

At least there's a little bit of sweet in the bitter Though a part of me is always gonna miss her I am who I am, I just miss who I was when we were

You had always remembered your time with Derek fondly. He was your first, for just about everything. You had tried to get into contact with him through the teenagers he had here. They periodically checked up on you and you assumed they reported back to him. Eventually they stopped coming around. So when you got sick, there was no way to tell Derek. Your doctors told you it wasn't a great chance. The surgery could work or it could make it worse, you may not even make it out. You had done what felt like hundreds of rounds of chemo and nothing was working to get the tumor to shrink. It was in a place that was very hard to operate. It was in your brain. There was a chance that if they were able to get it that the cancer wouldn’t return. You knew the risk of surgery was dying, but if you didn’t try you were going to die anyway. Before you went in for surgery you wrote a letter and mailed it to the McCall house, addressed to Derek.

Friends say, "Oh well, let that ship sail" "You gotta let go of her" "Just wasn't meant to be" But somewhere down deep I still believe That we were

When Derek finally returned to Beacon Hills he went to Scott’s house first. The boy had said he had something important for Derek. Derek knocked and waited before Scott opened the door. “Hey man! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for like a year!” Derek nodded, “ Yeah I was busy, what do you have for me?” Scott picked an envelope off the coffee table and handed it to him. He read the return address and when he saw your name he froze a bit. “Okay.” He left Scott’s house without another word. He walked to your old house and saw that there was a different family living there. He decided to just walk while he read.

Dear Derek,

Hey. You know I was never any good at this sort of thing, but I figured this would get to you eventually. I want you to know that you are my best friend. I can tell you that I would not have survived my teenage years if it wasn’t for you. I know I wouldn’t have made it through the time after my mom died without you. I need you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Even though you did ignore me for most of our 20s. You need to know that no matter what I love you. Always. I don’t care how many bad things happen, you are and forever will be my person. I couldn’t have lived this life without you. So thank you.

Derek quit walking and chose to sit down on the sidewalk. This felt like a goodbye.

I know I know. I’m getting all sappy and you hate that sorta stuff. Deal with it. What I’m about to say is going to make you angry. I kept a secret from you. I got sick. I know we all thought it wasn’t a genetic thing and that I would be okay, but I’m not. I’m sick and I’m going to die. I’ve had so many rounds of chemo that I can’t even tell you how many. So many failed attempts at remission. The tumor is in my brain. I’m opting to have a surgery to try and remove it. If the surgery works then I should be cancer free. If the surgery doesn’t work, well that would mean I would die. So either way I’m pretty screwed, the chances of survival with the surgery are about 5%. So either way I guess. I don’t want you to be angry. I know you're not mad at me, you’re going to be so angry at yourself for leaving me but Derek it’s what had to happen. I’m glad you haven’t seen me lately. I don’t feel or even look like myself. Remember me how I was that night. You know the one. So I guess this is a goodbye. I never thought we would have to do this. I’m sorry Derek. Please keep living for me. I love you. Y/n

By the time he finished reading he felt completely numb. You were gone. He would never hear your voice again. He would never kiss you or hold you again. He stood up and ran. He ended up at a spot that you and him had been so many times. He walked over and his gut was right. Where there had been one stone for so many years, there were now two. He walked over and sat down in front of it. He ran his hand over the words, Y/n L/n The light of everyone’s life. The date was from over a year before. You had been gone a year and he didn’t even know it. The love of his life was gone and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. He all of a sudden couldn’t breathe. He was a mess of tears and sobs. He put his head in his hands. If he would’ve known he could’ve done something. He could’ve gotten you turned. As soon as that thought crossed his mind he got angry. He couldn’t have saved you. If you had known about him and the supernatural, you wouldn’t have wanted the bite. You wouldn’t want it because it would’ve changed everything. He was pacing now. His anger and grief got the best of him as he let out a very loud roar. He knew all of Beacon Hills probably heard it, but at the moment he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was gone and never coming back. He looked down at the head stone before kissing his fingers and placing them gently on the top, “ I love you too.”

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (5/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: Once again, I am just absolutely blown away by the positive feedback i’ve received. I struggled a bit with the last chapter, but I felt more like myself writing this one so I hope you all enjoy it!! I can’t wait to delve deeper into this series!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 01x08 and 01x09

Tag List: @potterheadbbc - @sunsetblake - @mythicalamphitrite - @loverofwaytoomanythings618 - @creamychickenuggets - @mnk - @gazebros- @colie87 - @quilliamfears - @quellum - @pessimisticbullshite - @desired-love-@thinkwritexpress-official - @kaylinfayezink - @maiabiovillage - @tr1chst3r - @arkcangel - @quirkytwinkles - @thegirlwhoimagined - @noones-girl1980 - @illumminated - @fairchild345 - @all-will-be-well-love - @animemes-trash - @starryrevelations - @literallyhelpme - @theskytraveler - @jinandtion1c - @ilovemymoose - @bibliophilesquared - @stilessarcasmqueen - @mersuperwholocked-lowlife - @newtsshelbys - @wyattgoleft - @pancakefancake - @saturno-in-the-night - @pizzamelon7384 - @riskregretting - @mdgrdians - @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia - @franchisefan14 - @lovingpeterparker  If you’d like to be tagged, just let me know! Any in italics are those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

“Are you sure?”

Sighing, you continue to pull your shirt over your head, turning to your mother once it’s on. “Yup,” you exaggerate, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

Melissa frowns in response, shaking her head with her arms across her chest. You feel slightly guilty at being lippy with her, considering she was just concerned for you. So quickly, you walk across your room, grabbing your backpack and jacket, pulling the latter over your shoulders. “Honestly, mom,” you smile, “i’ll be okay.”

“It’s just... after everything that’s happened to you and your brother, for the past few days.” She lets out a huff, pausing. “I can’t help but worry.”

“I know,” you smile softly, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Stepping forward, you set your hands on her shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. “But i’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve already missed enough school.”

She nods, and once you’re sure she’s content, you let go of her shoulders, stepping back to brush your hair into a high ponytail.

“You’re, uh, still not talking to your brother?”

Her words cause you to frown, body pausing. You hadn’t spoken to, or even really looked at your brother, since that night at the school. After the first few days of you ignoring him, Scott had given up trying to talk to you. But that didn’t mean he didn’t constantly send you glances, hoping that if he did it enough, you’d finally reply to him.

It never worked.

“Nope.”

“But, you guys are siblings. Twins...” Melissa stresses, and you can practically feel the desperation radiating off of her. She sounds so hopeless, voice laced with concern and confusion. You don’t blame her. You feel the same.

Not to mention, since this all begun, you’ve never really stopped to think about what it’s doing to Melissa. How worried she must be. Things are obviously different, anyone with eyes can see that, but you and Scott have always been close. It must be so weird and strange for her for the two of you to not be talking.

“How long?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to shove things into your backpack. “Depends.”

“On what?” She huffs, “I still don’t even know why you won’t talk to him.”

Zipping your bag up, you shake your head, turning around and walking past your mother. You stop halfway though, pressing a kiss against her cheek, before opening up your door and heading out. “See you tomorrow.”

You know your words have done nothing to ease your mother. And you wish you could say more. But she wouldn’t understand it. Any of it. And if anyone should tell Melissa what has happened to Scott, it should be him.

“See you tomorrow.”

-

“It’s just weird.”

Picking up your head, you turn your attention on Allison, stepping past a few people to fall next to her side. Lydia is on the other side of her, and the both of you are intently listening to what the girl has to say. “Everybody’s talking about what happened the other night, and nobody knows it was us.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you comment, pulling their gazes on you. “I mean, i’d liked to not to be the center of attention.”

Lydia scoffs, “thank you, for the protection of minors.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at Lydia’s snark, shaking your head with a soft smile. Your smile, though, fades when you hear Allison sigh loudly, throwing her head back; “do you guys think I made the wrong decision?”

Before you can reply yourself, you notice Lydia eye Allison; “about that jacket with that dress?” She teases, “absolutely.”

“With Scott,” you smile her way, raising a brow. Lydia only rolls her eyes in response, shrugging her shoulders. Though, you and her both know you’re only teasing one another.

“Y/N?” Allison calls, causing you to blink. “Do you think I made a mistake?”

You want to say no. You should say no. It’s obvious, plain as day, that Scott is really hurting because of Allison’s decision, and it seems she’s not even sure if she made the right decision herself. They’re both not happy, clearly. But you can’t just erase all he’s done. You can’t just agree for the sake that he’s your brother.

He hasn’t really been acting like a brother after all...

With a frown, you glance down at your feet; “no,” you say, voice small. It takes you a moment, but eventually you gather the courage, raising your head and meeting Allison’s eyes without a doubt of uncertainty. “No, I don’t think you made the wrong decision.”

Allison still seems unsure, and maybe even a little stunned that you’d say that, before she turns to Lydia. “Lydia?”

“Hello?” Lydia sighs, “Scott locked us in a classroom and left us for dead. He’s lucky we’re not pressing charges or making him pay our therapy bills.”

-

Circling another answer on your test, you try to stay focused on the task at hand. It’s a little more harder than it seems, given that you’re surrounded by the exact people who keep distracting you.

You need to do this test. You need to pretend that for once, everything’s still normal. That werewolf’s don’t exist, and your brother isn’t one. You need to pretend like you hadn’t just been hunted by an alpha werewolf a few nights ago, in this very school. You need to pretend that your life is normal. That you’re just a teenage girl, trying to get good grades and maybe a boyfriend. Who knows?

You need to at least try.

But of course, things don’t go the way you planned. A few minutes after starting the test, Scott suddenly stands up, practically bolting out of the classroom. It catches the attention of everyone, of course, including you. You raise your head, eyes wide with concern as he ignores the teacher calling after him and just continues to run.

Stiles follows after him a moment later. “Mr. Stilinski!”

You hesitate, unsure. Then, before you know it, you’re on your feet, racing out of the classroom. “Ms. McCall!”

You halt to a stop though once you’re outside of the classroom, nearly running into Stiles. He turns to you with wide eyes, gasping; “what are you doing, Y/N?”

Shrugging, you gesture forwards; “same thing as you.”

You turn to look in the direction Scott had run, finding his backpack laying in the middle of the hallway, Scott nowhere to be seen. You send a confused glance Stiles’s way, both seemingly agreeing to step forward. The moment you reach the backpack, Stiles crouches down, picking up Scott’s backpack. “Scott?”

“Here,” you say, “i’ll call him.”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull your phone out, swiping it on and going to your contacts. You press Scott’s name, pressing your phone up against your ear, only to hear his ringtone echo out in the hallway. It seems to be coming from somewhere near, in front of you and Stiles.

Nodding at the boy, you both follow after the noise, turning the corner once you reach the boys locker room. You had picked up your pace, but quickly pause in front of the entrance of the boys locker room, unsure. You can hear the faint sound of the shower running and that is something you definitely don’t need to see.

“Y/N,” Stiles calls, turning to look at you. “Come on.”

“Stiles,” you snap, “I can’t go in there!”

“Y/N-”

“It sounds like he’s showering. I can’t-”

You’re interrupted by Stiles reaching forward, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the phone, and tugging you forward. You stumble forward slightly, quickly catching your footing and glancing around the room, biting your lip.

The sound of the shower grows louder, and you and Stiles both pause when there’s only a set of lockers blocking you from sight of Scott. You meet Stiles eyes, turning your phone off and shoving it back into your pocket. You shuffle behind Stiles slightly, both scared of what you’ll find and not really needing to see that part of your brother.

It isn’t until your past the set of lockers, do you find yourself relieved. Scott looks perfectly normal, and he’s wearing a pair of pants.

“Scott?”

He turns slightly, wet hair in his eyes as he breathes rapidly. “I can’t...”

“What happening?” You ask, eyes wide.

“Are you changing?” Stiles adds, holding his hands out before him, bracing himself.

“No,” Scott pants, “I can’t.... I can’t breathe.” He wheezes after he finishes speaking, and quickly, you turn to Stiles, helping him pull Scott’s backpack forward to search for Scott’s inhaler.

He’s having an panic attack. You’ve seen it before.

Reaching forward, you open the smallest pocket, allowing Stiles to reach in and grab the inhaler you knew was in there. He extends it towards Scott, who only stares back at it in confusion. “Here. Use this.”

Scott only continues to stare at it.

“Scott,” you snap, “do it.”

Taking it, Scott hesitates a moment longer before pressing it against his lips, and pressing the button. The moment he does, Scott sets his hands on his thighs, taking a few deep breaths before catching his breath. The moment he’s okay, he shakes his head; “I was having an asthma attack?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, “you were having a panic attack. But thinking you were having an asthma attack actually stopped the panic attack. Irony.”

Breathing heavily, Scott stares back at Stiles in confusion. “How’d you know how to do that?”

“I used to get them after my mom died,” Stiles explains, “not fun, huh?”

Huffing, Stiles shakes his head; “I looked at her, and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer.”

Sighing, you glance down at your feet. Seeing Scott now, and how hurt he is by Allison breaking up with him... you can’t believe you told Allison earlier she hadn’t made a mistake. What was wrong with you? What kind of sister does that?

“Yeah,” you sighs, “it’s called heartbreak. About two billion songs written about it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Well, you could think about this,” Stiles offers, “her dad’s a werewolf hunter, and you’re a werewolf, so it was bound to become an issue.”

“Stiles,” you snapped, sending the boy a glare.

“That wasn’t helpful,” Stiles mumbles, “okay, dude, yeah, you got dumped, it’s supposed to suck.”

“No,” Scott denies, shaking his head. “That’s not it. It was like I could feel everything in the room, everyone else’s emotions.”

“It’s got to be the full moon,” Stiles shrugs. “so we’ll lock you up in your room later just like we planned. That way the alpha, who is your boss, can’t get to your, either.”

“I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room.”

“Because if you get out, you’d be caught by hunters?” You ask, confused.

“No,” Scott breathes, stepping forward towards the both of you. “Because if I get out... I think I might kill someone.”

-

Running in behind Lydia, you feel your eyes widen at the sight of Danny on the ground, his nose all bloody.

“Is he okay?” You question, looking up to glance at Jackson.

“Yeah,” he nods, slowly turning his head to look at you and Lydia. “It looks like he just has a bloody nose--.” He meets your eyes first, before slowly drifting off to meet Lydia’s. You would’ve turned your attention back on Danny, if you hadn’t noticed the way Jackson suddenly halted in his speech, attention caught by something from Lydia.

“What?” She questions, not oblivious to Jackson staring.

“Your lipstick,” Jackson explains, and you tilt your head around, noticing the smudged lipstick on her lower lip.

Pulling a compact mirror out of her purse, Lydia opens it, eyes widening when she realizes what Jackson was referring to. “Oh,” she laughs lightly, raising her hand to wipe away the lipstick. “Oh, wonder how that happened.”

“Yeah. I wonder.”

Furrowing your brows, you look away from the two of them, obviously realizing it wasn’t any of your business. But as you look forwards, you catch sight of Stiles who’s staring at the two of them, lips parted in bafflement. He slowly turns, and following his direction, your eyes widen when they land on Scott.

It takes you a moment, glancing back and forth between Lydia, Stiles and Scott before putting the pieces together.

Stepping forward, you bite your lip; “Stiles,” you call, unsure. He keeps his back to you, and with a frown, you set your hand on his shoulder. “Stiles.”

Normally, you would’ve been hurt. Not that you had any real reason to. But it always seemed like Lydia was the only thing on Stiles mind, instead of you. Yet, in the moment, if your suspicions are correct, you don’t necessarily blame Stiles for being upset.

What your brother did... or what you think he did...

“I’m sorry...”

-

“He just doesn’t talk to me anymore... not as much as he use to... neither of them do.”

You halt to a stop, just barely halfway down the stairs as your mothers words register in your mind. It’s obvious she’s talking to Stiles, given that he’s the only one that would come here this late at night, and it’s also clear you missed a large chunk of this conversation but you can’t help the guilt that floods through you.

All of this. All that’s happened. You’ve never stopped to think about what kind of affect it’s having on your mom.

“Well,” you hear Stiles reply, “he’s had a bit of a rough week. And Y/N. Y/N too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Melissa stammers, “yeah, um... okay, uh... Be careful tonight.”

“You, too.”

“Full moon.”

You pause, head jerking back in surprise, causing you to lose your footing. You end up slipping, just barely managing to catch yourself before you fall on your ass just as Stiles blurts out; “what?”

“There’s a full moon tonight,” you hear Melissa mumble, and you feel your entire body tense. Please, don’t let her have heard you. Please- “Y/N, is that you?”

Godamnit.

You take a step, slowly, hesitantly, peeking your head around the corner of the wall blocking you from view. “Uh, yeah,” you laugh, raising your hand in a wave. “Just... uh, thought i’d come and say goodbye.”

“Oh, well, goodbye,” she smiles, and you nod before she turns back to Stiles. “Speaking of that full moon, you should see what it does to the E.R. Brings out all the nut jobs.”

You laugh weakly, so does Stiles; “yeah.”

“You know,” your mother continues, heading towards the front door. “It’s, um, actually where they came up with the word ‘lunatic’.” She steps forward, opening the door as you call one final goodbye. You wait until the door is completely shut behind her before turning to Stiles, wide-eyed.

“What was that?” You screech, walking until you’re before him.

“I don’t know! It just... happened!”

-

“Oh, my god!”

Jumping, you whip around, looking at the back of Stiles’s head with narrowed eyes, prepared to yell at him for scaring you to death like that. But then you catch sight of Scott, and the way he’s positioned on the chair in front of you both, and you don’t really blame Stiles all that much anymore.

“Dude,” Stiles sighs, “you scared the hell out of me.”

“And me,” you grumble, stepping out past Stiles. “What the hell are you doing, Scott? Mom said you weren’t home yet.”

“I came in through the window.”

“Okay,” Stiles says slowly, a little on nerve, and you don’t blame him. Scott has yet to move, at all, and he’s looking at the two of you with lidded eyes. It creeps you out. A lot. “Uh, well, let’s get this set up. I want you to see what I bought.”

Crouching down next to Stiles, you peek into the bag; “how do you guys do this anyway?”

“Oh, well-”

“I’m fine.”

You blink, glancing up at Scott in confusion.

“I’m just gonna lock the door,” he clarifies. “And go to bed early tonight.”

Meeting Stiles’s eyes, something tells you that that is not the best course of action.

“You sure about that?” Stiles questions, “cause you’ve got this kind of serial killer look going on in your eyes, and i’m hoping it’s the full moon taking effect, cause it’s really starting to freak me out.”

“I second that,” you mumble, looking up at your brother worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Scott repeats, voice emotionless. “You should go now. The both of you.”

“Okay, well,” you start, “I live here, so that’s not happening.”

“Nope, nope,” Stiles shakes his head, grabbing your wrist. “We’re leaving.”

You reel to him, “Stiles-”

“Would you just at least look in the bag and see what I bought?” Stiles interrupts you, raising his voice a little. “You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t. Sound good?”

You narrow your eyes, baffled. What is Stiles doing? You can’t just leave Scott alone. He said it himself, he’ll kill someone.

A moment passes, and you can’t help but practically feel your heart plummet when Scott suddenly leans forward, slowly pushing himself out of his seat and standing tall before the two of you. You shuffle back slightly, Stiles guiding you as Scott nears the both of you. For a moment, you’re not sure what he’s gonna do, but then he’s crouching down before the both of you, looking through the bag, chains jiggling in response.

He picks up a hand full of said chains, looking at Stiles through narrowed eyes. “You think i’m gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?” Setting the chains back down, Scott scoffs.

“Actually, no,” Stiles says, and you blink. Then, he’s lunging forward, pulling a pair of cuffs out of the bag, tightening it around Scott’s wrist before connect the other end to the heater in his room. Your eyes widen, stunned, and then Stiles spinning around, grabbing your wrist in the process and practically dragging you up to your feet, pausing by the door.

“What the hell are you doing!”

You glance back at Scott, eyes wide. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. This angry. You’ve seen it almost happen countless of times, but you didn’t know it could get this bad, and you’re guessing worse.

“Protecting you from yourself,” Stiles answers, straightening his shoulders. “And giving you some payback... for making out with Lydia.”

- 

Leaning against Scott’s bedroom wall, making sure to stay as far away from him as possible, you bite your lip. You can’t help but stare down at him with narrow eyes.

After Stiles had finished explaining why he was doing this to Scott, he’d gone off to get him water, leaving you on watch. You didn’t mind. It meant you could glare at him longer without an audience. Because not only were you mad at him for being a dick to you, you were also mad at him for being a complete asshat to Stiles. Whether you were jealous of Lydia or not, it was clear how much Stiles liked her. For your brother to kiss her...

The sound of Stiles’s footsteps pulls you from your thoughts, causing you to peer over the wall slightly, meeting Stiles eyes just as he walks into the room. He only glances at you for a moment before looking down at Scott. “I brought you some water.” He calls, holding up the water bottle.

You managed to catch sight of pet dish in his other hand before he raises it, a chuckle leaving your lips before you can stop yourself. Holding your hand against your mouth, you try not to burst out in laughter as Stiles raises the food dish meant for dogs, the name Scott on the front of it.

Even though Stiles’s back is turned to you, you can already tell he’s enjoying this as he pours the water into the dish, setting it down before Scott.

Just as Stiles turned to walk out of the room, you moving to follow him, the bowl meant for Scott clatters, water splashing. “I’m gonna kill you!”

Whipping around to face Scott, you glare down at him. “Scott!”

“No, i’m gonna kill him!”

“You kissed her, Scott, okay?” Stiles suddenly bellows before you have the chance to say anything, whipping around to face your brother. “You kissed Lydia. That’s, like, the one girl that I ev-”

Frowning, you glance down at your feet. You shouldn’t be getting jealous. Shouldn’t be upset. This isn’t about you. But you can’t help but hear those three words; the one girl... over and over again.

“And, you know,” Stiles continues, voice still raised in frustration and hurt. “The past three hours, I've been thinking, it’s probably just the full moon, you know, he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, and tomorrow, he’ll be totally back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been.”

Stiles pauses, and you can’t help but look at him in pity, your feelings pushed aside.

“A son of a bitch, a freaking unbelievable piece of crap friend.” Stiles pauses once more, and you step forward, hoping to dissipate the tension, but he continues. “And brother. Terrible, terrible brother.”

You gasp, eyes wide. Stiles doesn’t glance back at you, and you’re not sure why, but you would’ve never... You never knew he cared enough to notice.

A moment of silence passes, before Scott speaks. “She kissed me.”

It almost felt like your jaw could fall off in disbelief. He did not just say that.

“What?”

“I didn’t kiss her,” Scott clarifies, shifting slightly so he can look at Stiles better. The son of a bitch is actually smirking. “She kissed me.”

“Stiles,” you call, putting your hand on his shoulder, pulling him towards yourself. “Let’s just go. You don’t need to hear this-”

“She would have done a lot more, too.”

“Okay,” you huff, glaring at your brother. “That’s enough. Just stop-”

“You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me. She would have done anything I wanted.”

“Scott!”

“And you,” Scott suddenly says, turning his eyes on you. “What kind of sister are you?”

You pause, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t help. You can’t do anything to help. You’re useless.”

“Scott-”

Stiles grabs your hand, pulling your gaze on him. He only shakes his head, pulling you out of the room. You easily follow him, but not without glancing back at your brother once more in disbelief.

“Useless!”

-

Laying your head back against the wall, you keep your arms crossed over your chest, trying your best to ignore the cries and grunts of your brother as he tries to escape his confines.

“Stiles,” he cries, “Y/N, please let me out.”

Shaking your head, you keep your gaze on the ceiling above, trying to ignore him. Part of you is still angry, still hurt. Mainly angry, though. But a part of you, no matter how small, feels pity for your brother. Wants to help him.

“It’s the full moon,” he continues, voice pleading. “I swear. You know I wouldn’t do any of this on purpose.” There’s a moment of silence, the only thing that can be heard is the slight noise of Scott’s handcuffs jangling and his heavy breathing. Then, “please, let me out. It’s starting to hurt.”

Biting your lip, you try to block out Scott’s voice.

“Y/N, please,” he pleads, and inhale deeply. “Stiles, it’s not like the first time. It’s the full moon. It’s Allison breaking up with me. I know... that it’s not just taking a break. She broke up with me.”

You finally look down, watching as Stiles rolls his head to the side, face tense with struggle.

“And it’s killing me,” Scott adds, and you huff. “I feel completely hopeless. Just, please, let me out.”

You don’t say anything. Maybe it’s selfish of you, and this may be your brother, but it’s Stiles who’s been hurt by him. You have too, but in a different way. This is something Stiles has to do, no matter how badly you want to let him out. Or at least help Scott.

“I can’t,” Stiles sighs, voice small.

A few moments of silence pass, and the wrong part of you relishes in it. When Scott isn’t begging to be let out, it’s a lot easier. But it only lasts a certain amount of time before you hear Scott crying out; “no, no, no! Aah! No! No!” The jangling of his cuffs grow louder, and you straighten out in alert. “No! No! No!”

The screaming grows louder, almost inhumane. You feel your heart pounding madly against your chest, wondering if you should go in there and help, but one look at Stiles, and you’re bewildered. He only presses his hands against his ears, shutting his eyes, and leans his head back.

Your lips part, Scott’s screaming piercing your ears.

Then, suddenly, the screaming stops.

“Scott, you okay?”

“Stiles,” you call, “what’s happening?”

He only shakes his head at you, calling out Scott’s name once more before standing up. He opens the door, and you inch forwards until you’re behind him. You tense your entire body, afraid of what you’ll find, but then, he isn’t there. His handcuffs, broken, lay on the floor with splatters of blood.

Scott’s nowhere to be found.

-

“Oh, my God...”

The words slip past your lips before you can stop them, the red and blue lights of police and ambulance sirens reflecting in your eyes. You don’t have to glance at Stiles to know he’s seen the same thing, and is just as panicked about it as you.

He pulls up to the police scene, and just as Stiles’s presses down on the breaks, a body is being wheeled into the ambulance. You climb out of the passengers seat, walking around the front of Stiles jeep until you’re beside him. “Dad!” Stiles calls, voice filled with panic.

He breaks into a run, running towards one of the police men, grabbing his shoulder and whipping him around. “Dad?” He calls, stumbling back when he realizes that person isn’t his father. “Has anyone seen my dad?”

You bite your lip, glancing around the crime scene with fear.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Stiles walking up to the dead body, and almost immediately you run up beside him. “Stiles, don-”

“Stiles!”

You turn your head around, eyes widening with relief when you see Stiles’s father step forward, eyes narrowed in confusion at the sight of you two. “And Y/N. What are you two doing here?”

Stiles only steps forward, wrapping his arms around his father in a tight hug. You step back in respect, glancing down at your feet with a small, pitiful smile.

You have no idea where Scott is, but for some reason, in that moment, you’re not too worried. You know how much Stiles’s dad means to Stiles, just like Melissa means the world to you.

-

“Get in!”

Moving over to the right side of the back seat, you give Stiles some room, watching Derek crawls into the passenger seat behind him. Almost immediately Scott starts driving again.

“What point of laying low do you not understand?” Scott bellows, keeping his eyes before him on the road.

Derek only slams his hand against the car, “damn it, I had him!”

“Who, the alpha?” Stiles questions, popping his head up to the front. You scoff, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him back so you can see as well. He only rolls his eyes at you as you shift forward yourself, the both of you hitting each others shoulders as you squish forwards.

“Yes!” Derek snaps at Stiles, “he was right in front of me, and the friggin’ police showed up.”

“Woah,” Stiles argues, “they’re just doing their jobs...”

At the look Derek sends Stiles, you don’t necessarily blame the boy from backing up lightly, face scrunched up in mild fear. You’re just glad it’s not directed at you.

“Honestly,” you speak, pulling the attention on you. “It’s technically your guys fault that the police are even after Derek. I mean, it was Scott who decided to make him the most wanted fugitive in the entire state.”

“Thank you!” Derek huffs.

“Can we seriously get past that?” Scott pleads, voice rough with shame. “I made a dumbass mistake. I get it.”

“Alright!” Stiles cuts off, unnecessarily loud. You press your palm against your ear, sending the boy a glare. “How did you find him?”

Derek looks back at Stiles for a moment, before scoffing. Clearly, he doesn’t want to tell you three.

“Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?”

“Yeah, all of us.”

“If there’s anyone I trust in this car besides myself, it’s her.” Your eyes widen when he points at you. “She’s only the one here who hasn’t turned the police on me.”

“Really?” You question, surprised, as a small smile falls on your lips. “Thanks.”

Scott huffs, pulling your attention back on him as he narrows his eyes. “Derek,” he calls, voice stern.

Derek sighs, shaking his head; “look, the last time I talked to my sister, she was close to figuring something out. She found two things. The first was a guy named Harris.”

Once again, Stiles shoves his way to the front; “our chemistry teacher?”

“Why him?”

“I don’t know yet,” Derek snaps.

“Well,” you speak up, once again shoving Stiles back to give yourself room. “What’s the second?”

Pulling a small folded piece of paper out of his pocket, Derek unfolds it, revealing some sort of picture. “Some kind of symbol,” he concludes, before Scott suddenly flinches, as if he recognizes the symbol causing your attention to fall on him. “What? You know what this is?”

“I’ve seen it on a necklace,” Scott sighs, shaking his head and instantly you know who he’s referring to.

“Allison’s...” You mumble, eyes wide.

-

Gasping, you stumble back the moment you feel yourself slam into a chest. It takes a moment to realize just who you’ve stumbled into, and you feel your eyes widen when you find Jackson staring down at you, a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Oh, Jackson,” you mumble, unsure. You haven’t really talked to him since everything that happened that night in the school, and if you’re being honest, you have no idea what to say to him. “I-I’m sorry,” you smile softly, cheeks a little red. “I didn’t see you-”

“No,” Jackson smiles, cutting you off. “It’s all good. It’s my fault.”

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Agree to mutual faults?”

Jackson laughs but nonetheless nods his head, pulling his backpack higher on his shoulder as he smirks down at you. A smirk on Jackson’s lip isn’t an odd thing, the guy practically oozes cockiness, but there’s something about the way he’s smirking down at you. Like he knows everything. But of what, you don’t know.

“Hey,” Jackson suddenly cause, pulling you from your thoughts. “Why don’t I walk you to class?”

“Oh, you... you don’t have to-”

“It’s no problem, your class is on the way to mine anyway.”

...How does he know that?

“Well, I was actually about to meet up with Scott and Stiles,” you explain, coming up with an excuse. “You’re welcome to-”

Jackson shakes his head, offering you a small smile. “Best I don’t,” he laughs, you mimicking him, albeit a little more feigned, “but i’ll see you around?”

“For sure,” you mumble, nodding slowly. Jackson sends you one more smirk and a wave before walking off past you. You mean to move, really, but you find yourself stuck in the hallway, head turned past your shoulder, watching his back grow farther and farther away from you.

“Y/N.”

Flinching, you spin around, wide eyes falling on Stiles. Almost immediately, you let out a breath of relief, holding your hand against your chest.

“Everything okay?” Stiles questions, obviously noticing your odd behavior and frazzled attitude.

You hesitate before answering, glancing behind yourself once more. “Yeah,” you whisper, “the weirdest thing just happened though. Jackson-”

“Jackson knows i’m a werewolf.”

Blinking, you turn your head to the side, finding Scott before you. He seems more frazzled and shaken up than you did a moment ago, cheeks flushed, signalling he’d ran over here to find the both of you.

“What?” You blurt, confused.

“Jackson,” Scott repeats, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Knows i’m a werewolf.”

You take a step forward, Scott and Stiles following your step as the latter speaks up; “how the hell did he find out?”

“I have no idea,” Scott breathes.

“Did he say it out loud-- the word?”

“What word?”

Scoffing, you shake your head at your brother, “werewolf,” you clarify. “Did he say, ‘I know you’re a werewolf’?” If he did, if he does know, could that be the explanation to his odd behavior before?

“No,” Scott answers, “but he implied it pretty freaking clearly.”

Taking a deep breath, Stiles tries to think optimistically. “Okay, maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“How?” You deadpan.

“I mean,” Stiles continues, sending you a glare that read: not helping. “He doesn’t have any proof, right?” Scott shrugs in response. “And if he wanted to tell someone, who’s gonna believe him anyway?”

“How about Allison’s father?”

“Okay, it’s bad.”

“Who’s not being helpful now,” you mumble under your breath.

“I need a cure,” Scott says before Stiles can retaliate, “right now.”

“Does he know about Allison’s father?”

Sighing, Scott throws his hands up in the air; “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you continue, trying not to panic. “Where’s Derek?”

“Hiding,” Scott answers, “like we told him to. Why?”

“Well, I have another idea,” Stiles answers for you, and you let out a breath of relief. You had no idea what to do. “But it’s gonna take a little time to finesse, though.”

“We have that game tonight,” Scott reminds, stammering and turns to Scott. “It’s quarterfinals. And it’s your first game.”

“Wait,” you call, holding up your hands and meeting Stiles’s eyes. “I didn’t know you were playing tonight.”

“Oh,” Stiles mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, it is.”

You nod, unable to stop the small smile that falls on you lips.

“Guys!” Scott whines, returning the attention on him and his current situation.

“Okay, I know,” Stiles nods, “do you have a plan for Allison yet?”

Shrugging, Scott nods hesitantly, “she’s in my next class.”

“Get the necklace.”

“Wait,” you call once more, “shouldn’t I just get the necklace from Allison? No offence Scott, but you two aren’t really friends right now...”

“No,” Scott shakes his head, “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”

Sending him a skeptical look, you shrug your shoulders. Maybe he just wants an excuse to talk to her. “Okay.”

-

You drift off from the conversation between Allison and Lydia, the bright smile on your lips dissipating slightly when you see Jackson turned towards your brother and Stiles.

It’s clear by the expressions on Stiles’s and Scott’s faces what Jackson is doing, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes slightly at the side of his head.

“Don’t you agree, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You blink, turning your head back towards Lydia and Allison. They’re both smiling at you, but you watch as their smiles fade much like yours did a few moments ago the moment they realize you weren’t listening. “Sorry,” you smile slightly, “my mind fell on other things.”

“Oh, I see,” Lydia smirks, “you were looking at Stiles.”

You blink again, cheeks inflaming almost instantly in embarrassment. “What?” You blurt, trying not to overreact. Stay calm, you told yourself, stay calm. “I wasn’t-... no, I, I wasn’t.”

Allison smiles slightly, giggling at you as you stutter as Lydia nods. “Yes, you were!” She continues to grin, smiling madly. “You totally were looking at him.”

“No,” you repeat, “I was not.”

“Do you like him?” Allison grins over at you, eyes wide with excitement.

You shake your head, repeatedly, trying to figure out a way how to get out of this conversation without further embarrassing yourself. What Lydia and Allison are saying may be true, but there’s no way you’d tell them that. Especially Lydia. Knowing her, she’d try to set the two of you up and that would just end... horribly.

As you’re trying to come up with excuses, quickly, you notice Jackson gone from the corner of your eye, causing you to stand up in panic.

“Y/N?”

Glancing around, you notice Stiles and Scott from afar, looking just as tensed up and panicked as before, but you can’t seem to find Jackson anywhere. Turning to Lydia and Allison, you shake your head; “did you guys see where Jackson went?”

Allison purses her lips, looking around; “no...”

“Who cares?” Lydia shrugs, grinning up at you; “stop trying to change the subject!”

Before you can reply, there’s a loud snap and suddenly everyone’s eyes are on Scott. His lunch tray having been cracked in half, and his face is read. With anger.

You quickly look around, the lunchroom now silent, finally able to spot Jackson. He’s over by the vending machines, so, quickly excusing yourself from Lydia and Allison’s sides, them barely paying attention now after the display Scott just gave them, you rush over to Jackson. Reaching forward, you grab his wrist, smiling sweetly up at him.

“Can I take you up on that walk now?”

His eyes slowly slide from your brother to you, the smirk on his lips only faltering for a moment before it brightens. It’s clear he hopes he can anger Scott more by messing with you, if his smirk is anything to go by, but as Jackson slides his hand in yours, leading you off to class, you turn your head in Scott and Stiles’s direction, sending them a nod, letting them know what you’re trying to do.

-

“Where’s Stiles?” 

Sighing, Scott shakes his head; “he says he’ll be here soon.”

Clasping your hands before yourself, you nod, glancing around the field nervously. It may be pathetic, but you can’t help but worry about Stiles. This is his first game, and you don’t want him to miss it.

It takes you a moment to remember you’re still awkwardly standing in front of your brother. Said brother who you haven't really had a normal conversation with in a very long time. Glancing up at the bleachers, you see Lydia sitting there by herself, looking both angry and hurt.

“Well, I should-”

“Y/N,” Scott interrupts, causing you to blink up at him. “I want to apologize-”

“Not now,” you cut off, shaking your head with a small smile. “Just, I should get back to Lydia.” Leaning forward, you lower your voice to a whisper; “don’t let Jackson get to you,” before pulling back, smiling brightly at him. “Good luck, okay?”

Scott nods, and you move to step away, before a shadow falls next to you, blocking your path.

It’s Jackson.

“No good luck for me?” He smirks down at you, glancing over at Scott before meeting your eyes.

Swallowing thickly, you plaster a smile on your lips, a tight, very feigned smile, trying your best to ignore Scott. You can feel his anger practically oozing from him as Jackson grins down at you, barely an inch away from you. 

Biting your lip, you clench your fist; “good luck, Jackson.”

You know arguing will only make it worse, and it’s best to just leave before Jackson tries to make Scott more angry, knowing he’ll be doing plenty of that on his own during the game. Sending the two of them a final smile, you head up the bleachers, taking the empty seat next to Lydia.

“I don’t know why you dragged me here,” she grumbles, hugging herself. “There’s no way I wanna support that asshole.”

“You’re doing it for me,” you remind, smiling reassuring her way. “And to prove to him you’re better than him. Because you are.”

Lydia’s frown softens slightly, and she sends you a smile in return, bumping her shoulder into yours lightly. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Anything for you, Lydia.”

Silence falls over the two of you, and as you wait for the game to start, you can’t but glance back, hoping to see Stiles appear. He never does.

“Looking for Stiles?”

“Hmm?” You mumble, turning your attention back on Lydia. “Oh, uh, no... Just noticed he wasn’t here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here,” she smiles, “after all, he’s got you to impress.”

“Lydia!”

-

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[thisdiscontentedwinter]

submission:

I just want to get this off my chest:

Sometimes I feel some uber “woke” SJW (not using it in a pejorative manner, I just don’t know what other terms to use) are very overly aggressive/defensive.

I know I can be very “ignorant” as in uninformed about other minorities issues, and that’s why I ask around internet. I’m asking, truly because I’m curious & want to know more, not because I’m mocking/loving my ignorance/playing dumb. And I ask around internet because in real life, people are less open / care less about issues like this.

I was talking about ATLA reboot with another tumblr user. She was really a passionate person when it comes to social justice, I really want to know her opinions about the ATLA reboot & how the original producers of the animation promised that the series will be culturally appropriate & without a whitewashed cast.

We agreed that the first movie was horrible & we were both skeptical of their promises. She was a Canadian (I am a Malaysian), so she knows more about the indigenous American races. She said she doubted that they would really cast an Inuit actor for the Water tribe. Until this point, we were very civil.

And then I asked:

“Does it count as racial erasure if they, let’s say, also cast other indigenous people of America (Inuit, Eskimo, Native Americans, etc), instead of all Inuit?”

I thought it was not a big deal, because I’ve seen Cumberbatch played Strange (British playing American), or Hugh Jackman playing Wolverine (Australian playing Canadian), Armie Hammer playing Illya Kuryakin (American playing Russian), Don Cheadle playing Basher Tarr (American playing British), or Arden Cho playing Kira Yukimura (Korean playing Japanese).

And here where she started to be “aggressive”, she answered:

E*kimo is actually just a more offensive way of referring to the Inuit and Yupik people, though I know most people aren’t aware of that.

What do you think, nonny? Is it erasure when a role is written for a Korean character, and someone Chinese is cast instead, because it’s ‘close enough’? Please, don’t ask me questions you can very easily parse the answer to yourself with a little thought and common sense.

She also added tags:

#like it’s a step in the right direction when compared to hollywood whitewashing #but in a very #one step forward two steps back way

I seriously didn’t know that it was a pejorative way to call Inuit and Yupik people. The term is used in children’s books in here and I thought that was a term for a group of people who lives in Northern America (along with Inuit people). And I really didn’t know that it is that wrong to cast people from different nation and even after asking, I still don’t know. And tbh, I definitely don’t think that it’s worse than whitewashing (one steps forward, two steps back way).

And then I told her that I thought it’s okay since there are British actors playing American roles, etc, and she replied:

“I hope for your own sake you’re just an ass, and not that dumb”

Maybe I just had a really bad day, but I felt really sad, like I want to cry? I really didn’t mean to offend anyone. I really wanted to learn and when you want to learn because you don’t know something, and someone calls you dumb / an ass because you don’t know, it’s just disheartening for me and I feel really stupid.

I ask a lot of things to you and you’ve never been angry / replied in a condescending manner. I don’t know. I just had a bad day probably and wanted to get things off my chest. Sorry.

DW: You an always feel free to vent here! 

And look, I’ve talked before about how social media isn’t just largely western--it’s largely American. I think we all remember that time I was told my “Scott McCall deals ketamine because he has motives, means, and opportunity, and if you say Stiles does it then Ic and ay Scott does it” was racist because that’s apparently a stereotype in the US. Well, guess what, Americans? It’s not a stereotype everywhere. Sometimes people actually just don’t know. 

And honestly, why would I know every American stereotype? Do they know all the ways Australians stereotype people? Fucking doubtful. And why would you know that a certain (common) word for the Inuit people is considered pejorative? Do they know anything at all about Malaysia? Fucking doubtful. 

I will say that in the case of your Native American casting hypothetical that race is very different to nationality -- like Hugh Jackman is always gonna be a white guy, you know, so it doesn’t matter if he plays an Aussie or an American in that respect, but that if you cast him as a different race then there would be issues! 

But also, I don’t know enough about the racial politics between Native American peoples. Like, I can see why casting a Navajo actor as an Inuit character might be an issue, but what about casting a Navajo actor as an Apache character? Would that be okay? 

And I don’t know. I don’t know where the line gets drawn there. I don’t know who gets to even draw the line. 

Also, the Water Tribe aren’t Inuit anyway, are they? I know that their design is based very much on Inuit culture, but they’re not canonically Inuit. Inuit people don’t exist in that universe, just like Japanese people don’t, or British people don't. So to me it seems odd to claim that the part must go to an Inuit actor, because the Water Tribe are the Water Tribe, not Inuit. 

I would love it if they cast Inuit actors, but there are no Inuit characters int hat universe. 

And you should never feel dumb for asking questions you legitimately don’t know the answer to. You only mistake here was getting between someone standing on a soapbox and their purity wank. 

[symphonyofmars]

Redemption Part 10

(This is an AU that starts after season 4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15 , Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

MASTERLIST

Smut and feelings.

Word count: 5,251

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Characters: Deucalion, OC (Woman), OC (Man), OC (Woman), OCs (background), Scot McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Kira Yukimura, Malia Tate, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Sheriff Stilinski, Alan Deaton

Pairings: Deucalion/Original Woman Character, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Mason Hewitt/Corey Bryant

Warnings/other: Season 5 AU, goofiness, fluff, smut (of Deuc/OC), violence, some gore, (the sex is more graphic than the violence though)

Deucalion felt the mattress shift under him and woke to Val climbing out of the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, I was trying not to wake you."

"You did a terrible job," he said and chuckled softly.

She smiled, "I was just going to take a shower. Would you like to join me?"

Deucalion stretched languidly as he thought about the prospect, pushing most of the covers off of his nude, muscular frame as he did so. He glanced over to Val to see if she was enjoying the view and laughed at her expression; arms folded and smiling at him wryly with a brow raised.

"Mmm, we could soak in the tub instead."

"You actually use it as a tub?"

"Not really. Not when there's no one to soak with, certainly. But I'm sure it works just fine."

"I do have a thing for claw foot tubs..." she said, impersonating someone who was undecided.

He responded by rolling over to her and pulling her back onto the bed, letting her fall against his body. He peppered her neck with kisses as she laughed.

After some minor scrubbing, the tub was ready and filled with piping hot water. Deucalion went to climb in first, but was stopped by Val. She climbed in and leaned back, motioning for him to lean against her. Once in the tub, Deucalion was amused by his knees sticking out of the water but found himself quite comfortable leaning against her chest.

"I could fall back to sleep like this," he said as he closed his eyes.

"Don't, I'll never be able to get out."

Deucalion smiled.

Val traced the contours of the muscles in his arm with her fingers, provoking a contented sigh.

"That's nice."

Val smiled.

"Val, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"When do you plan on leaving?"

"Why?"

"I'm just wondering. Are you staying here for weeks? Months? Are you just never going to go back?"

"It's nothing I've made any real decisions about. Are you asking because of last night?"

"Partially. I like having you around, we have a lot of fun together. And..." Deucalion trailed off as he tried to think of the right words.

"And?"

"I have very strong feelings for you."

"Oh, so you 'like' like me."

He laughed loudly, "I was trying for something more romantic and less... 'American high schooler' but sure, I 'like' like you."

"Well, we must keep up with the times so as to blend in more easily."

"If you ask me to wear a snapback, I'm getting out of this tub."

Val laughed a short laugh, but then her expression became serious. "You seem to have fallen quite quickly for me."

"Have I?"

"The Freudian slip, the book, now… it sure seems that way."

"Maybe I am," he conceded as he popped some bubbles. "I knew you were stunning even when I first saw you, in that hole you dug for yourself, covered in earth."

"Liar."

"I swear I'm not."

"I was absolutely covered in dirt, how could I have possibly looked pretty?"

"Excuse me? I believe I said 'stunning'."

Val laughed, "Even more unbelievable."

Deucalion turned around to face her.

"You're getting water everywhere," she protested.

"Why is that so unbelievable?"

"I don't know. I was covered in dirt? I had a worm just hanging out on my leg?"

"That doesn't mean I couldn't see you for what you really were."

"What's that?"

"Beautiful. Then later I learned that you were also intelligent, strong, willing to accept help, funny, amazingly sexy--"

'That's why you 'like' like me?"

"Stop saying it like that, you sound like a kid."

"I like it, it's silly."

Deucalion closed the distance between them, sloshing even more water onto the floor. He pressed his body into hers as he kissed her, pulling away so he could look into her eyes

“That was such a serious kiss,” Val said with a laugh.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

Val averted her eyes for a moment. "That's such a strange thing to say. 'In love with you' implies both people are in love."

"Are you not?"

Her jaw flapped uselessly and she sighed. "I'm not sure."

Deucalion leaned back in the other side of the tub and viewed her with a concerned look.

Val returned the look. "I like you a great deal, you're interesting, you show that you can change, you want to make yourself better, you're fun to spend time with--"

"Nothing physical?"

Val sighed, "You're on the mind-numbingly attractive side, yes. I realized it when I first saw you too. There, you've dragged it out of me."

Deucalion chuckled, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Well I'm not used to saying it. I've found it best to not let others know what's going on inside my head."

Deucalion sat up, "You can let me know. I want to be the person that you can tell anything to."

"I've told you basically everything about me in the two weeks we've known each other."

"But not everything?"

Val looked away, "There are some things that... even after so many years, I'm still not ready to tell anyone."

Deucalion watched the soapy water as it washed over Val's breasts and splashed up against the craggy scar that covered her heart. He had a feeling he knew what she was referring to. "I'm fine with that."

Val looked at him incredulously.

"Tell me or don't tell me anything you want, as long as you don't lie to me I'm fine."

Val smiled, "Where do you get off being so understanding?"

"How do you think I've held packs together over the years?"

Val smiled again.

"So why are you not sure?"

"... I don't know. Maybe it's just because we haven't known each other very long."

They were both quiet. Val was almost certain this was going to lead to him no longer being in love with her. She swished her hand through the water as she waited for him to say something.

Deucalion caught her hand. "That's understandable."

"It is?"

"Yes. When you've been around as long as we have, and you're more than twice my age, knowing someone for a few days... it's nothing compared to how long you really can know someone. And knowing someone for a long time brings a kind of natural trust and affection that you just feel from being around that person for so long. I understand." He leaned back again and rested his arms on the sides of the tub.

"You've put it into better words than I could have."

"You're welcome."

"Eloquence. That's another thing I like about you."

"Oh, so you can think of things that you like about me."

"I never said I couldn't."

"What else do you like?"

"Don't push it, buddy."

Deucalion chuckled and slid down into the tub, splashing water out again.

"You better hope you don't rot this floor through."

"Should be fine. This place doesn't have a basement so it's not like we'll fall through into anything." He stood, water cascading down his body.

Fuck, Val thought as the water dripped off his muscular frame.

"What say we dry off, hmm?"

It had been almost a month and a half since Deucalion invited her into his home, and almost a month since they had sex the first time. Val wondered if there was something to be said for the lost finding each other, but as soon as she had the thought she tried to purge it from her mind.

She had no idea what could happen in the days or weeks to come, but she knew she couldn't hide there forever.

She still refused to go outside the cabin, however. As much as part of her wanted to see her band – who she figured must collectively be mad at her at this point – she also didn't want to chance running into Scott, who  she was sure hated her. She wasn't sure if Scott and his friends blamed themselves or if they blamed her, but she didn't care either way. She wanted to be alone. Or rather, alone with one other person. She would have already left the state or the country if it weren't for Deucalion who, as much as he didn't want her to leave, still tried to convince her that Scott would be forgiving.

Deucalion, who did the shopping and didn't mind that she never went with him, even though he told her multiple times that he went to a different town and that the odds of running into Scott were low. Deucalion, who had resolved - after a particularly long conversation in which he finally got Val to admit she was bored of her self-imposed hermitage and that she just might be beginning to get cabin fever - to attempt to bring things into the cabin in order to give them more things to do.

The first time it was hot chocolate, and at night they set a fire in the fireplace and curled up next to it in a blanket. That led to sex.

The second time it was art supplies, in which they took turns posing for each other and decided who was the better artist. The winner was never decreed because that also led to sex.

The third time he looked up the rules for poker and challenged Val to a game of strip poker. And if he tried to convince anyone that sex wasn't his primary motive, he would have failed miserably.

Most things he thought of to occupy their time and give them a change of scenery inevitably led to sex, which gave him cause to wonder if they would become bored of that too if they kept relying on it as a fun thing to do.

One night, as they lounged in bed after a tiring afternoon of lovemaking, he decided to ask what hobbies she had prior to her time with him.

"Hobbies?" Val asked, confused.

"Yeah. What did you do with your free time?"

"Nothing much different than now. Although there is much more sex involved now."

Deucalion laughed quietly. "So what, you just sat there?"

"No... You're going to think it's stupid."

"Why would I think it's stupid?"

"Most people think it's stupid."

"In case you haven't noticed, I am not most people. So, tell me what it is, I won't laugh."

"I didn't say you'd laugh, I said you'd think it's stupid."

"Val, I won't think it's stupid, just tell me!"

Val laughed at his persistence. "I used to knit."

"What?"

"Kniting. And crochet. Like, hats and scarves and gloves and stuff. Also weaving and embroidery. Basically, all the soft crafts.”

"Why would I think that's stupid? I mean, it seems a little out of character, but that doesn't make it stupid."

"Most people call me a grandma when they find out. And then I have to stop from saying, 'No, I've never had kids, but yes, I am old enough to have birthed a bloodline several times over!'" Val gestured as she used a mocking voice to impersonate people who annoyed her.

Deucalion sighed, "That's so silly. So you like to knit, so what?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Trying to find things for us to do."

The next day he bought some yarn and needles at a craft store close to where he always bought food, having to ask an employee for help because he had no idea what he was looking for. When he brought everything back Val roared with delighted laughter and offered to show him how to make something. And – after several hours – all he made was a huge, tangled knot.

Dejected by his own lack of skills, he immediately moved to throw it out, but Val stopped him. She surveyed the woolen mass he accidentally birthed into existence, taking a crochet hook she took new yarn and wove it into a sphere. In the span of an hour, her deft hands had turned it into something with four limbs, and after another half hour, it had a head. Deucalion was amazed by how quickly she worked and how little effort it took her to turn his mess into something with purpose and form.

"What is it?" He asked.

"It's a little wolf," She said and held it aloft. "Well, if a wolf were bipedal."

"So it's me?" He joked, taking it in his hands and turning it over.

Val's face took on the appearance of a giddy child who was, in fact, too excited. "Oh my god! It is! It's a tiny you!" She laughed uproariously but suddenly stopped. "Wait!" She dug into the bag of yarn, "Didn't you buy blue? I'm giving it eyes!"

Deucalion held his eyeless, miniature self and laughed boisterously at her reaction.

Val seized the wolf from his hands and quickly stitched blue eyes onto its face, and a wry smile to accompany it.

"I don't smile like that."

"You always smile like that, shush."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, when you're amused by something you smile sort of... crooked. It's cute."

Deucalion smiled the same smile to himself genuinely, but also to secretly check if he really did smile as she described it.

He looked at the toy again. Tiny stitches, made from a mistake he made and corrected by her. So different from their relationship, but he wouldn't have wanted to be fixed by her, he was glad he could save himself. He wouldn't have wanted to meet her as an incomplete person that she couldn't help. He was glad they met when they did. He was confused, though, as to why she made something for him when he bought the yarn for her. But when he looked into her smiling eyes, he knew that the thing itself wasn't important, it was the gesture. To him, the tiny, complex stitches and the wordless dedication and focus that created them felt like... Love? he thought to himself. Is this her Freudian slip? Or is it just the moment? Maybe she does love me, somewhere in there. Maybe this gift is betraying her need to not say it, because she thinks that if she does, something bad will happen to me... I'm keeping it for forever.

The wolf found a home on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

But now he had this nagging feeling deep in the back of his brain like they were uneven. She had given him this small piece of her, but what did he have to give in return? He ruminated on the subject for a few days and came up with nothing. He had some old objects from his younger days, but those weren't anything he collected with her in mind. He wasn't even sure he could make anything. Knitting was clearly a bust, and he hadn't done any woodworking in a long time. He didn't have anything to give her that was just for her, from him. He didn't know what he should do.

"Duke, I think it's time I went back to my apartment," Val said abruptly over breakfast one morning.

"What? Why?"

"I'm sure the band is mad at me at this point, and I need to at least check on the place. I am paying for it."

"Will you come back?"

"I don't know. I'll probably end up running into Scott and his pals and I don't know how they feel about me at the moment."

It hit Deucalion now that he didn't want her to leave. He had always known he didn't, but back then it was like a sickening undercurrent to the entirety of their time together, the background radiation of a budding relationship. Now it felt like his organs were being pulled out. "Does this mean we're over?"

"Do... you want us to be over?"

"Not at all," he was hoping he didn't sound too needy but he was sure his voice betrayed him. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away, but he desperately didn't want her to leave.

Val laughed, "I'm not going to do a film noir 'see you in the funny papers' and never see you again."

Deucalion was sure he was blushing like a schoolboy.

Val stood and walked to his side of the table.

Confused, Deucalion stood, his expression was pained as he waited to see what she would do.

Val kissed him, hugging him tightly as she did so, and pulled away to look at his now relaxed

features.

"Why don't you walk me back? Then you'll know where it is."

"I could do that."

"You could."

"And then..." he enrobed her in his arms. "Maybe I could visit you?"

"You could," she responded coyly.

Deucalion's voice lowered as he stepped closer. "And you can show me around your place."

Val giggled, "And what would I show you?"

Deucalion lifted his head away and feigned deep thought. "Oh... I don't know. The kitchen?"

"It's there when you walk in."

"The living room?"

"Can also be seen from the foyer."

"Oh, so you have a foyer?"

She laughed, "Not really."

"Hmm," Deucalion mused. "The bedroom?"

"I had a feeling that was the place you wanted to see."

"Oh, did you?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure why, I must have ESP or something. I seem to just have predicted it out of thin air." Val's voice dripped with sarcasm as Deucalion was already trying to rid her of her pants. Val sprung free of his grasp and effected the accent of a southern belle. "I said, 'You know, he's probably one of those no-good ruffians, one of those guttersnipe, jackanape types who might try to find his way into my chambers and have his way with me!'"

Deucalion laughed at her impression but stalked her across the room just the same. Val backed up when he got closer.

"'And here I am, just a young woman from Georgia, trying to find my way in this big wide, world, and find me a husband before all the men go off to war!'" She rested the back of her hand against her forehead dramatically.

"Alright right, Scarlett O'Hara, you're about to get ravished!"

And with that Deucalion lunged at her, closing the distance between them in an instant, sending Val scurrying and laughing into the room she used to sleep in.

"'You'll never have me, you highwayman!'" She yelled in delight as she closed the door on him.

Deucalion tried to open the door but Val held it shut.

"Val, I am not breaking this door in and ruining the frame," he said in his sternest voice.

"'Rhett! What should I do?! Where shall I go?!'" Val yelled from the other side.

Deucalion stopped trying to force the door and thought for a moment. He sighed. "Frankly, my dear, I just don't give a damn?" He asked and the knob of the door turned and the door swung open.

"'Oh, Rhett!'" Val exclaimed as she flung her arms around Deucalion's neck. "'One of those awful highwaymen was after me!'"

Deucalion raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" Her faux-accent was beginning to grate on him.

"'And you know what I heard they really were?'"

"What?"

Val dropped the accent, "Werewolves."

"Werewolves." Deucalion repeated, unsure of where she was going.

"Mhm. I heard they'll charm the pants off you with their steel blue eyes and deep voices and English accents, and then-- you know what I heard?"

"What did you hear, my dear?" He asked, deepening the pitch of his voice and pulling his arms up around her.

"I heard they'll take you from behind..." she stood on her toes so she could whisper into his ear, "and fuck your brains out."

Deucalion pulled away so he could look at her face. "Is that so?"

Val nodded, "Mhm."

"Well then," he said as he slipped his hands into her pants and slipped her pants off her, "I'd hate to disappoint."

Val giggled as he locked lips with her, hoisted her up and carried her to the bed. He lay her down and undid his own pants, sliding them off as Val helped by pushing at them with her feet.

"I thought you were all afraid of the 'highwayman' now you're kicking his pants off?" He asked as he stood up.

"Well, it has been so very lonely at the estate lately," Val said with false innocence.

"My dear," Deucalion said as he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, "what will the neighbors think when they hear you're in such a state?"

"Who'll tell them?"

Deucalion chuckled as he kissed her. "If I could make you moan and scream, they'd find out."

"And just how would you do that?"

He stood again and pulled her underwear off of her, "I was thinking this." He pulled her by the hips to the side of the bed and buried his face between her legs causing her to giggle with delight. He balanced on the balls of his feet and closed his mouth around her clit drawing little circles on it with his tongue. Val inhaled deeply and shoved her fingers into his hair, grabbing it in fistfulls as she gasped and sighed. As much as Deucalion wanted to watch her as her breasts heaved, he dipped his head back down. He flattened his tongue against her labia and dragged it back up to her clit and sucked on the bud, the bundle of ultra-sensitive nerves sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Deucalion chuckled to himself against her thighs.

"What?" Val asked as she pushed herself up and looked at him.

"Nothing." He said with a smile.

"No, what is it?"

"If I had known you would be this easy, I would have visited this estate a long time ago!"

Val opened her mouth in false shock, reached for a pillow, and hit Deucalion over the head with it.

Deucalion laughed, toppling over from the force of the pillow. "Oh, my lady, what will everyone think of your violent tendencies?"

Val sat up and grabbed him under his jaw and helped him back up. "Don't make me give you a whipping, you no good ruffian."

Deucalion laughed.

"Now get back down there," Val said as she shoved his head back between her thighs and wrapped her legs around his ears, muffling his laugh as he once again licked her clitoris. At this, Val's legs relaxed and fell away from his ears and rested on his shoulders. Deucalion took this as an opportunity to slide one, and then two fingers into her, angling them up as his teased her clit with his tongue. Val's eyes closed tightly as she exhaled in a noteless moan, pulling the sheets into her balled up fists. As her hips bucked erratically, Deucalion forced them down with his other hand, forcing her to stay still and accept what he was doing to her. She exhaled harder, wishing she could make noise but not wanting to subject him to the dehumanizing effects of her powers. Instead, she shoved her hands into hair again and pinned him against her. As Deucalion's tongue and fingers became more vigorous, Val's breathing became more shallow and ragged. Finally, she gasped and her body became motionless, except the part of her that was now pulsating violently around his fingers. Deucalion smiled as he thrust his fingers into her one last time, causing her to inhale deeply and clamp her legs around his head.

When her legs fell away again she could hear him chuckle.

"Shut up," Val breathed. "I hate you and the things you do to me."

"No you don't," Deucalion sang to her as he wiped his face in one motion and licked her juices off his fingers.

Val watched and smiled, "You're a dirty old man, you know that?"

"No, I'm a werewolf, and you know what I heard?" He asked as he helped her roll onto her stomach and pulled her toward him so her legs were off the bed and her feet were on the floor.

"Oh no," Val giggled quietly.

Deucalion positioned his cock, hard from all the excitement of toying with her, at the entrance of her dripping wetness. He wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder and pulled up, her spine curved, and brought her ear to his lips "I heard they take you from behind and fuck your brains out."

With that, Deucalion thrust into her. Val held onto his arm and tried not to moan though she very much wanted to. It wasn't just how much he filled her and so quickly, it was that he flipped her own words back at her in the most suave and charismatic way.

"I guess they were right about werewolves being charming," Val said huskily as Deucalion let her go and placed his hands on her hips.

"You're damn right," he agreed, and brought one hand down hard onto her asscheek.

"Oh my god!" Val gasped, equal parts surprise and pleased.

Deucalion froze for a moment, unsure of her reaction.

She turned her head, "If you don't keep doing that I will be very upset."

Deucalion smiled and brought his other hand down onto her other cheek.

"Fuck!" Val said and slid forward, breasts pressed up against the bed.

Deucalion correctly read that as his cue to keep going and was amazed as how much she changed from being so cold and distant to now letting him spank her with no worries.

As the flesh of her ass stung and reddened, Val was happy to let her anxieties go and put herself into the strong, capable hands of the only person she felt she could trust. Not that he needed to know that.

Deucalion stopped spanking her when the red outline of his hand finally appeared on her asscheek. He turned his attention to her posture, pressed up against the bed and biting into the palm of her hand. He scooped her up again, the fullness of her rump almost making it difficult for him to stay in her as he thrust, and held her against him. He palmed one breast in his hand, pinching her nipple between his fingers, and stuck the fingers of his other hand in her mouth. Val sucked on them reflexively, gasping from his continued thrusts. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and touched them to her clit almost making her jump from surprise. She could feel him grin next to her ear as he rubbed it slow at first and then more vigorously, making her shift her weight on her feet as she stood on her toes. Her feet ached from trying to make herself tall enough for him, and her body ached from the pleasure he had already given her. She exhaled deeply as she felt the pressure begin to build up again between her legs. Her entire body screamed at his touch and how thoroughly he had fused their beings as his cock plunged into her and slammed up against her cervix. She wrested herself from the grip of his arm and, bending back as far as she could, grabbed him with one hand and pulled his mouth to hers. He grabbed her hip to steady himself with his free hand, his fingers furiously working her clit. Her other hand was the only thing they were balanced on. She breathed into his mouth in erratic breaths as he felt her convulse around him, the hand they were balanced on now gripping at the bedsheets. He bit her lip to stop her from pulling away and held her hips to his as she came. Feeling himself about to reach his limit, he let go of her lip, pushed her body away from his, and shot his warm seed all over her back.

Val turned to look at him. "I hope you plan on cleaning that up."

Deucalion laughed as he stood, one hand on the edge of the bed, the other on his lower stomach. He grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and began to clean her.

"Val?"

"Yes, highwayman?"

He stopped, "If you start with that accent again I'll leave you to clean yourself."

Val laughed, "What?"

"Where did you get these tattoos from?"

She rested her head in her hands. "Which?"

"These lines next to your spine on your lower back," he began and he traced them with his fingers. "You have some dots on the other side here higher up. This one that... looks like an elaborate wolf, maybe? I noticed the lines on your wrist as well, and the runes on your right forearm earlier, but I had never seen you from this angle before."

"Enjoying it?" Val asked huskily.

Deucalion smiled. "Of course."

"Well, the lines and dots are the oldest, they're paleolithic. The wolf was done by a woman I knew when I was traveling through an ancient Norse fishing village, it's Fenrir. The runes were done when I was in Upsalla for a festival shortly after, am I clean?"

Deucalion wiped the last bit of himself from her skin. "All clean."

She rolled over and pointed to her right shin, "This fish was done when I was hanging out with some Sarmatian shamans after a battle I helped them with. And this," she pointed to an anchor on her left rib, "was done by a tattoo artist I knew when I lived in New York in 1936."

"Quite the collection."

"I try."

"I noticed you have a number of scars too, aside from the ones on your chest... and the one I saw on your back." He figured that the scars were both around her heart, One on the front and one on the back...

"Yeah, it would seem that huldras don't heal the way werewolves do.

"I like them."

"Thank you, but I didn't ask."

Deucalion looked at the tissues in his hands and put them down on the nightstand. He sat next to her, quiet for a moment as he collected his thoughts.

"I mean, I like you. All the parts of you. The parts I know and the parts you may never tell me. Each of these marks is something that happened to you that I wasn't there for. I didn't mean to imply that you needed my approval for them, you don't."

"That's normally the case when those words happen in that order."

"I realized it after it came out of my mouth, I'm sorry."

Val waved it off, "Nah, don't be. I know what you mean. I shouldn't bristle at everything." She sighed, "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"You know you can let your guard down around me."

"I'm trying. I’m so used to living with it up and fully armed that I slipped. Sorry."

Deucalion touched his head to hers and smiled, "Let's both agree that we messed up, and we'll accept each other's apology."

Val returned the smile, "Sure."

They sat there, their foreheads touching as Deucalion gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

"And hey," Val said as she pulled away, "I thought I was going to give you the whipping."

Deucalion laughed heartily, the muscles in his abdomen tensing with mirth. "I gave you a spanking, not a whipping."

"So I get the spanking and you get the whipping? I can deal with that."

Val smiled as Deucalion laughed.

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The College Years - Freshman Year (Chapter 13) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles​

Title: “The Parents Weekend”

Characters: Stiles & Noah Stilinski, Derek & Cora Hale, Scott & Melissa McCall, Malia Tate, Ethan, Isaac Lahey & Chris Argent, Reader’s Father, Tom Y/L/N & Reader/OFC

Warnings: None, maybe language, who knows...

A.N.: This is pretty short but I just like the idea of Stiles getting grilled by your Dad while you get grilled by Noah. Plus it’s a major set-up for the next chapter........

Summary: Parent's Weekend has come and the mothers, fathers, and surrogate parents of Berkeley's underclassmen have descended upon campus. The pack has a large family dinner. Sheriff Stilinski questions Y/N, and Scott, Stiles, Mr. Argent and Y/N’s dad, Tom Y/L/N, finally have a discussion.

Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen

"So why is your Dad coming and not your Mom?" Scott, who was on the other side of Stiles, asked you.

"My Mom couldn't get out of work and he kept saying 'if he's paying for Berkeley, he wants to see me there.'" You rolled your eyes.

"Maybe your dad will have some information about the vampires that he'd be more willing to share in person.." Scott reasoned.

"Maybe your dad will be able to convince you to take the martial arts class with Scott and I so that I don't have to worry about you." Stiles said, frustrated, flailing his arms.

"Hmm... nah." You replied, snarkily.

Stiles opened his mouth, shocked and frustrated by your sass. "Why won't you just take it. Y/N, come on." Stiles whined.

"I was forced to take tae kwon do in high school and I hated every minute of it.... I'm not saying that I got knee surgery to get out of tae kwon do, but I'm also not saying that I didn't milk it for way longer than was real..." You said facetiously, a smug grin spreading across your face.

"I hate you, you know that, right?" Stiles glared at you, as you all walked home from campus.

"Mhmm." You smiled as you glanced down to see your hand intertwined with his. You squeezed his hand, and he glanced down at you, a smile turning up his lips. "Maybe, like boxing or krav maga or something, I just don't want to do martial arts."

"Krav maga would be cool, you could see if Cora and Malia want to do it with you?" Scott suggested.

"That's a good idea."

"Now I hate the both of you." Stiles said as he closed the front door of their apartment behind him, watching you walk through his bedroom door and drop your backpack on the floor. He followed after you, seeing a trail of your backpack, coat, one shoe, the other shoe.

"So you hate me, huh?" You said with a grin, standing on Stiles' bed, pulling your shirt over your head, and tossing it to the ground. Stiles stepped back, cocked his head to the side, and then closed his bedroom door behind him.

"I definitely... definitely don't hate you." Stiles said as he rushed to the bed, watching you drop down to your knees.

He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you close to him. You placed your hands in his hair and began kissing him. You sucked on his bottom lip and he moved down to your neck. He kissed across your collarbones and your shoulders, pulling the straps of your bra down as he moved along your body. You moaned quietly at his touch. He moved back up to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you moved your fingers to unbutton his purple flannel shirt. Stiles heard your phone vibrate against his hardwood floors.

"Y/N, that was the third time your phone went off, maybe it's important..." Stiles said, holding your arm as you reached to pull his t-shirt off.

"It's fine, just leave it." You brushed it off, as you went to kiss his neck, pulling his shirt off over his head.

The phone went off again.

Stiles dropped to the bed beside you. "Damnit." He sat up and looked for your jacket. "Here, just see who it is."

"I have six missed calls from Hanna and Sarah.." You said as you hit play on a voicemail left by one of your roommates.

"Hey, so I just let your dad into the building but you're not here... sooooo Lamb and I are just going to keep trying to call you... or try to get Scott or Stiles' number from Simon since you're probably with one of them. Okay call me back." Hanna spoke frantically over the voicemail.

"Oh my god.. I completely lost track of time... I have to go." You said as you searched the floor for your shirt. "I'll see you at dinner later tonight?" You said as you ran out his bedroom door.

"Yea, see you later." Stiles yelled out the front door of his apartment, as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head.

You opened the door to your apartment and saw Scott and Melissa McCall, Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski, and Derek and Cora Hale waiting to be let in. You stepped out of the way, gesturing for everyone to step inside. Malia and Ethan were already sitting at the table with Isaac and Mr. Argent, and your dad, Tom.

You grabbed Stiles' arm and yanked him into the kitchen. "Just to warn you, my dad is pissed because it's really obvious that I have not been sleeping here for most of the semester and he's probably going to talk to you at some point."

"Okay, well this is horrible. I haven't even met your dad and he hates me." Stiles said, his eyes widening with anxiety and fear.

"Did your dad bring his gun? Actually it doesn't matter, Scott can probably just protect you."

"What?!" He whisper-yelled. "Are you serious?"

"It'll be fine, just let him yell at you and then talk about wanting to be like your Dad or talk about the Mets."

"Is that even going to work?" Stiles asked. You shrugged.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could help." Sheriff Stilinski said, halting the conversation.

"Dad, did you bring your gun tonight?" Stiles asked, as he checked his dad's belt.

"...No, and get off me. I'm in a room full of magical creatures and we're having dinner, I thought I could leave the badge at home for one night." Noah retorted, shaking his head at his son.

"I can't count on you for anything, can I?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at his dad, before catching you motioning your head for Stiles to go back out to the party. "Ugh, if you hear a loud thud, I've literally died of terror." Stiles complained as he left the kitchen.

"I wanted to see if you wanted some help, thought it was a shame that I didn't get to spend much time with you when you were in Beacon Hills but you know, as far as excuses go.." Noah rambled.

"Uh, yea, I mean, I'm almost done but if you could watch the peppers for me, I can finish the pasta." You handed him a wooden spoon, and then went to work cooking.

"So where did you learn to cook?" Noah asked.

"My mom, and my dad, I guess. They're both really excellent cooks. Do you cook much, Sheriff?" You asked, nervous about where the conversation was going.

"No, no, not too much. Probably for the best too, I was never as good of a cook as Stiles' mom. Uh, Stiles tells me that you're a history and political science major with a minor in Arabic? Did I get that right?"

"Yes, actually you did. It's a lot of work but I really like my classes, and Stiles and I even signed up for a few poly sci classes together for the Fall. It should be fun." You replied, smiling, happy that the conversation was going well.

"And you're from New York? You a Mets fan?"

"Yankees..." You answered reluctantly, wanting to make a good impression on the Sheriff.

"Oh that's too bad, we are definitely Mets fans in the Stilinski house... Uh, Stiles also tells me that you're a witch..." Noah stated, nervously.

You stirred your vodka sauce for a few moments before answering. "I am."

"Do your roommates know about all of this?"

"No, not yet. That's why they're not here tonight. They're out with their own parents right now." You explained.

Sheriff Stilinski put his spoon down on the counter and turned to you. "I hate to ask this but I need to know, are you the kind of witch who can cast spells or make potions or anything like that?"

"No.. in that respect, I am no different from Dr. Deaton. My real power lies in my telekinesis and energy fields and invisibility and the occasional card trick." You joked, trying to lighten to conversation.

"So you can't make a love potion or something like that?" He asked.

"......No, nothing like that.... Why do you ask, Sheriff?"

"I didn't mean to intrude or imply anything, I just thought my son would never get over Lydia Martin, especially after what she did to him. Hell, I haven't even forgiven Parrish yet and I work with the guy... But the last few months, since Stiles met you, he has been so happy and so.... normal with you, I just, I had to make sure that you didn't spike his lemonade or something." Noah explained. "I just haven't seen my son this happy since his mother died, and I had to make sure it was real. I hope you didn't take offense."

You shook your head, lightly smiling as you stirred your sauce more. "No offense taken, Sheriff, I get it. I'm glad that I have made Stiles so happy. He makes me very happy too. You raised.... the best son." You said, your smile widening.

"Is dinner ready yet? I am dying out there with your dad, Y/N." Stiles burst through the kitchen door.

You nodded and pointed to the plates on the counter, prompting Stiles to set the table.

Everyone sat down at dinner and discussed school, work, the wendigos in Beacon Hills and the vampires in Berkeley. When dinner was over, and most people were helping to clear the table and get dessert set out, Scott, Chris Argent, Stiles and Tom Y/L/N sat at the table on your terrace.

After an hour, when dessert finally made its way onto the table, you went out to retrieve the men from the balcony. Your dad and Mr. Argent walked back inside to join the others.

"So what'd he say?" You asked, half closing the door behind you, blocking their exit.

"The irony of all of this is going to be astounding." Stiles remarked.

"Mr. Argent is going to head back to Beacon Hills with Isaac tonight to talk to Gerard."

"So he'll do it?" You asked, excited.

"Your dad agreed to it. He's going to set up the meeting for Easter weekend, when we're on Spring Break." Scott told you.

"We've gotta book tickets to New Orleans then, Allison is going to be the new Jesus." Stiles said jokingly, placing a hand on yours and Scott's shoulder, as you all walked back into the apartment.

Twelve <- -> Fourteen

Get fucking stoked for the next chapter coming at you tomorrow, and get your requests to be tagged in it now because it’s posting early and with all the premiere madness, you might just miss it.

@alexhmak @dontstopxx @iloveteenwolf24 @chivesoup @vampirepinary @parislight @surpeme-bean @snek-shit @mayahart02 @fuxkdean @teenage-dirtbagbaby

[amorremanet]

Sorry if this is a weird question but Is Sebastian the only one of your OCs you have a fancast(?) for or are there more 👀

Well, he’s the one whose fancast is the most set in my mind, but that’s mostly a function of: 1. him being around the longest (since… this whole thing got started, originally, as me writing background for him when he was an RP character, so my DM could have more ammunition for future plots and/or character torture);

and 2. me going, “Kassie, no, do not imagine him looking like Hayden Christensen, istg” — which clearly worked out about as well as telling a goat to do your calculus homework, since going, “don’t do this thing” only made me continue thinking about it so much that it stuck

But some other fancast thoughts I’ve had are:

Todd initially looked like Aidan Turner, but that’s currently in a state of, “ehhhhh, not quite so much” — they still have a few things in common but not enough that I like the fancast anymore

I’m annoyed that Margot, in my head, looks basically like Scar*Jo in Ghost World, if she were about 4’11”, less skinny (like, Margot is in that irritating, “in-betweenie” body type where you’re not really thin, but you’re not fat, but your weight isn’t distributed in the right way for people to mean it in a nice way when they call you, “curvy”), and had black hair and glasses

I’m annoyed with this because I’m annoyed with Scar*Jo in general — but I’m mostly letting it go and hoping that someone else comes to mind, because the last time I fought myself too hard on fancasting these losers, I went, “No, stop it, no Hayden Christensen”…… and now Seb looks like Hayden Christensen, so?

Maybe if I don’t argue with myself too hard, Margot won’t look like Scar*Jo forever.

Lucy changes between Kat McNamara and Sophie Turner, because I really do like both of them for her.

That said, I wish I knew what either of them looks like with short hair, because the long hair works for a little while, but eventually, she’s going to cut it short (because if you’re going to run headlong into things where fights could ensue, then giving your hypothetical opponents something they can easily grab onto, like long hair, is a really bad idea)

(also because I personally find the idea of an eager beaver go-getting young autistic hemokinetic with short, bright red hair and no chill…… super cute)

For Sara Grace, I really love Asha Bromfield, who’s currently playing Melody Valentine on Riverdale

I am perpetually cranky that I don’t have a fancast for Pete, because I love him more than GRRM loves Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister — and I initially thought of Karl “Manila Luzon” Westerberg, because Manila and Pete are both white/Filipinx biracial (and as I just found out, they are apparently the same height)…… but Manila’s skin is a few shades lighter than I see Pete’s, and their respective tones are pretty different, too

Convenient points of comparison: I see Pete’s skin tones and shades being closer to Bianca “Jiggly Caliente” Castro’s or Ryan “Ongina” Ong Palao’s (who are both also Filipinx, though not biracial afaik) than to Manila’s

Pete’s older brother Jimmy is closer to Manila in terms of shading, though their skin-tones are still different

I do know that Emerson, one of Pete’s cousins from his Dad’s side of the family, looks like Eddie Redmayne, but that’s just because Emerson used to be in a different project, and I moved him to this one, and he’s looked like Eddie Redmayne since, like, 2009.

He’s also a really secondary/tertiary character, so it’s kind of a cheap consolation prize to not having a fancast for Pete that makes me happy

Like, Emerson is not quite to, “I could replace him with an interesting lamp and have the same effect” levels, but he’s not a big deal.

I mean?? He’s Pete’s cousin. Both of them are the gay cousin, but Emerson is a gay Libertarian who works for the FBI and Pete is completely certain that he’s making up his alleged boyfriend because why would someone who sounds so cool and nice want to date Emerson

He’s not making up his boyfriend. But Pete’s enjoying himself in trying to prove that Emerson is making Asa up, just like how he made up two separate girlfriends before he accepted that he’s gay, and Pete’s had a pretty rough time of things in the past few years, and he really is Em’s favorite cousin, so Emerson figures he can let Pete enjoy the, “prove that Emerson’s boyfriend is a big conspiracy theory” thing until about Thanksgiving

But that’s beside the point, and seriously, about the most relevance that Emerson has is being Pete’s cousin and being employed by the FBI’s department of mutant shenanigans

Josie, once upon a time, looked like this goth model who I’ve never seen anywhere else but the face-claim suggestions/resources blog where I found the banner and icons that I used for Josie, back when they were a character in an all-dudeslash RPG because in those days, all-slash games were one of the only ways you could play any characters who weren’t 100% hetero without it being hella mocked and/or hella policed

—unfortunately, said goth model’s name is, “Aaron Gilmore” which makes him impossible to Google because there are a ton of people named, “Aaron Gilmore” and none of them has ever been the one I want, excepting the one of whom very few pictures actually exist

He’s also only good for Josie c. high school and undergrad, and?? idk, I kinda like Ben Whishaw, but I also have reasons why I don’t entirely like him for Josie

Another minor character whose face I know: Nick, who is Seb and Pete’s sponsor and Stephen’s boss, looks like Nathan Lane, and pretty much wandered into my head looking like Nathan Lane as soon as I decided that Seb and Pete’s sponsor existed, his name was Nick, and he has an art gallery

I’m kind of annoyed that I have no freaking clue where to start looking for Stephen’s fancast, but I’m also not surprised because he’s tall, and chubby, and a dork whose favorite colors are hot pink and acid green, and who laughs at his own jokes so much that he cannot finish telling the damn joke, and his Dad is black/white biracial while his Mom is Puerto Rican mestizx, and here we are

There is, to the surprise of absolutely no one, a side-character who looks like Tyler Posey. He… needs to be renamed, because I named him at like three in the morning and only just realized why I felt weird about him being named, “Rafael Delgado” (…because Melissa McCall’s maiden name is Delgado, and Scott’s blobfish-shaped gene donor was named Rafael, oh jeez)

—but anyway, he’s a member of the Wardens, who are “totally not” a middle finger to a lot of my issues with how Marvel has handled the X-Men over the years, and he teaches music at their attached school for “the gifted”

This wasn’t the first time that I did something like this, either.

For example: Pete has an ex-boyfriend, who is very much an, “I could replace him with an interesting lamp and it would be essentially the same”-level character. I named him Wade, first as a placeholder, and then I liked it so it stuck but something felt a little off about it

It took me about a month to remember that Spidey*pool is a Thing, and their civvies names are Peter and Wade, respectively, and ohhhhh, that’s why it felt weird…… well, shit. (Interesting Lamp Ex-Boyfriend has since been renamed Blake)

I also have “fancasts” for all of Sebastian’s dogs (Lola, Achilles, Angel, Oscar, Renly, Chewie, Toby, Biscuit, and Cat) and for Nick’s cat (Ms. Dorothy), but that literally just means, “I decided what breed I wanted Ms. Dorothy and Seb’s dogs to be, I went on Google Image Search, and I found the ones I liked the best, yay cute animals”