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perseephoneee · 2 years ago

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letters back and forth

ISAAC LAHEY X READER

requested by @gallifer

prompt: you’re a were-jaguar that left beacon hills after your parents got killed and you finally return to reconnect.

a/n: besties i’m back? mayhaps

Coming back to Beacon Hills was a bad idea, and it was even worse to be waiting outside the school for everyone to rush out as the bell rang. You felt your heartbeat thumping like an approaching army, and all you could do was wring your hands in nervousness. You haven’t seen Scott and everyone else in six years– would they even recognize you? Would they forgive you for leaving? You weren’t sure. You just had to hope.

You remember the day your family died like it was in perfect resolution. Watching the hunters shoot them down, hearing their hearts slow down until they stopped. Watching the warmth from their eyes fade until it was nothing. It’s why you left Beacon Hills in the first place, to get away from that past and that trauma.

You thought maybe it was the perfect time to finally return. You couldn’t keep running forever, though, you knew that much. It’s what caused you to come back after all these years away. That and the news that a new supposed Alpha had risen up in Beacon Hills. One by the name of Scott McCall.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and already students were filing out, desperate to get away from the hellscape that is high school. Your breath caught in your throat, waiting, and right as you thought you might just turn around to leave, the familiar lopsided grin of Scott came into your view. He was talking to Stiles Stilinski, and all you could think was how time had been kind to them. They looked so much older and more sure of themselves than when they were kids. You hated that you didn’t get to grow up with them.

“Y/N?” Scott asked, stopping in his tracks the second he made eye contact with you. So he did recognize me, you thought.

“Hi,” you gave a half-hearted wave, fear clutching your heart. You were ready for him to push you away. Instead, he came over and collapsed you to his chest, giving you the most bone-crushing hug in the world. Stiles joined in, welcoming you back, and if you weren’t in public, you might’ve started crying.

“Where have you been?” Scott inquired, pulling away from you.

“That’s a long story; think we can go somewhere so I can catch you up?” you asked, smiling shyly.

“Come back to my house; my Mom will want to see you anyway,” Scott grinned. You were happy to note that his smile hadn’t changed.

You drove back to Scott’s house with Stiles, and as Scott said, Mama McCall was relieved to see you happy and safe. Apparently, intense hugs were genetic, as you felt your breath leave you as she squeezed you tight. Not too soon, all three of you were sitting in Scott’s living room with snacks and drinks, catching up on the past six years.

“You’re bullshitting me,” Stiles said after you explained what you were. “A were-jaguar? That’s not real.”

“Considering I’m sitting right in front of you, I’d say it’s pretty real,” You bit into one of the EL Fudge cookies, catching the crumbs that fell from your lips.

“I’m sorry about your family,” Scott sighed, cutting off whatever sarcastic comment Stiles was about to say.

“It’s been a while; I just….” you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “I thought I shouldn’t be alone anymore; I should be with a pack. Supernaturals are better in packs anyway.”

“We’re barely a pack,” Stiles said. “More like an asthmatic werewolf, hunter, banshee, and whoever decides to tolerate us that day.”

“Dude, I told you I don’t have asthma anymore,” Scott groaned.

“I can’t hear you over all your wheezing,” Stiles retorted, earning a slap from Scott that devolved rather quickly. As you were about to break it up, the front door opened, and the last person you expected walked in.

You’ve had a crush on Isaac Lahey since you were seven. He lived close to your house, so sometimes, you would play in the backyard before dinner. You would make cardboard houses and decorate them with blankets from inside or have competitions in the cul de sac. You remember falling in love when he let you ride his bike. You never had a bike, and you were jealous of everyone who did. His bike was sleek and had a bell that he would always ring. He helped you figure out how to make it go and how to dismount. All you could think was how kind he was to you and how any other kid in the neighborhood would’ve been impatient. You loved him ever since, and you didn’t forget him when you had to leave Beacon Hills. In fact, you wrote him a letter that you intended to send, but you were too scared and never got the chance.

Now he stood in the foyer of Scott’s house, wearing Chuck Taylors and a sky-blue henley. He got tall, real tall. His jaw was sharp, and his cheekbones were perfectly defined. His golden curls didn’t seem so dorky anymore; they matched his ruggedly handsome attire. The only thing that hadn’t changed was his eyes; they still were gentle.

“Hi–” you waved, but Isaac just shrugged off his backpack and went upstairs, not allowing you to finish his sentence. “-- Isaac,” you sighed, dropping your hand.

“Isaac is living with me now,” Scott coughed, obviously sensing your disappointment. “You know Isaac, he’s uh–”

“I know,” you smiled, pretending it didn’t affect you that much. “I should probably get going; help my aunt unpack–”

“You should come to the lacrosse game tonight,” Stiles exclaimed. “Good way to reconnect.”

“Okay… I can come.”

To be honest, you didn’t remember what lacrosse even was. Sports were never your favorite, and you were surprised to find it involved catching balls with sticks. You were not surprised to find Stiles on the bench the entire time. That boy had never been coordinated with anything in his life. You got an excellent chance to get to know Lydia and Allison in the stands, the latter moving to Beacon Hills later. You were surprised to find out how much you liked Lydia, as you remember her being stuck up from growing up. Still, they warmed up to you, and you were happy to share your secret-were-jaguar-ness with people who understood. As the team filtered onto the field, you clapped with the rest of them. Scott shot you a thumbs up, earning a laugh from you. Your breath caught when you saw Isaac run onto the field. You wanted to talk to him, needed to. He just needed to notice you.

That’s why you screamed his name the loudest out of everyone during the game if Isaac had the ball or scored. By the third time of being the most obnoxious attendee in the stands, he finally made eye contact with you. You held his stare, daring him to look away, and he only did when it was required. By the time the game ended, Beacon Hills had won, and you were surprised to find you actually watched a sports game without being bored. You caught up with Scott and everyone at the end, giving big hugs and congratulations. You felt a stare burning into your head and turned around to see Isaac looking as awkward as ever.

“Hey,” you smiled, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets. You pulled an eyelash out of nervousness.

“You still do that,” Isaac said, his voice deeper than you remember.

“Do what?”

“Pull out your lashes when you get nervous,” Isaac grinned, and you thought it was the best smile in the world.

“Can we talk?” you asked.

“Yeah, let me just get changed.”

You waited for Isaac outside the locker room, waving Scott off when he asked what you were doing. Eventually, Isaac came out, and you found that even after all these years, you still felt butterflies deep in your core when he looked at you.

“So, where should we go?” Isaac inquired, scratching the back of his neck.

“There’s a lovely forest behind the field,” you answer.

“You want to take me to a forest?”

“Is that wrong?”

“Feels like you’re going to kill me.”

“I can’t kill you now, but maybe later,” you smiled, earning a grin from the boy across you. You both walked out of the school to the forest behind the field. You remember hiking through that forest with your family before you left Beacon Hills. It had the most sparkly sky during nighttime, and while some might think the quiet was unnerving, for you, it made you feel perfectly at peace. And right now, next to a boy with whom your heart was enamored, you needed peace more than ever.

“Good game, you played…nice,” You mumbled, not knowing how to fill the silence between the two of you.

“I aim to play…nice,” Isaac coughed, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

“So uh, how–”

“Why’d you leave?” Isaac pried, stopping you in your tracks. Why is he so tall? Was he always this tall?

“Isaac–”

“You were the only thing making that house bearable, and then you left, and I felt so alone,” Isaac choked. Your heart broke hearing his words.

“My family was being hunted because I’m a werejaguar,” you exclaimed. “That’s why I left. It was never because of you; it never could be because of you.”

“You’re a–”

“Were-jaguar, I know.”

“I’m a werewolf,” Isaac announced, looking like too many gears were turning in his head to catch up.

“I know.”

“You know?”

“The smell,” you explained. “You’re…musky.”

“Did you just call me musky?”

“Isaac, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving. I know your Dad sucked, and I know me leaving sucked–”

“Y/N–”

“I’m so sorry,” your voice broke.

“I missed you,” Isaac mumbled, looking at the ground.

“I missed you too,” you pulled out another eyelash, feeling the butterflies become angry fabric-eating moths in your stomach. Before you could contemplate your bad decisions, you wrestled a crumpled letter out of your jacket pocket and thrust it toward him. “I wrote this for you when I first left and never had the nerve to give it to you.”

“What changed?” Isaac inquired, taking the letter from your trembling fingers and tearing it open.

“I lost everything already; what else is going to happen?”

Isaac looked at you, a mixture of sadness and other unrecognizable emotions in his eyes as he pulled the letter out of the envelope and unfolded the slightly yellow paper. You held your breath as his eyes scanned the page. Isaac was almost always an open book, never being very sly. Somehow though, he managed not to reveal anything as he read the letter. He folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. You held your breath as he wrestled with something in his back pocket, pulling out a crumpled scrap of paper from his wallet and holding it out to you.

“What is that?” you questioned, your voice caught in her throat.

“You’re not the only one who wrote letters.”

You took the paper from his hands, your fingers shaking as you opened it. You had a small smile as you took in Isaac’s elementary school messy scrawl.

Hey Y/N,

You’re gone, and it makes me sad. I don’t know where you went, but things suck at home, and I miss riding my bike with you.

Girls are weird, but you never were. Talking to you was easy, and I always knew I could trust you. Call it an instinct, but everything with you felt natural. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, I don’t know if you’ll ever care, but I thought you should know that you are important to me. My mom talked about love at first sight, and I thought love was stupid. But with you, I think I understand what she means.

– Isaac

You wiped a tear and then ran down your cheek, looking up at Isaac. The moon highlighted him in a beautiful halo, and all you could think was life was cruel to damage this angel as so.

“One of us needs to say something before I have a heart attack,” you smile nervously, your eyes wide.

“Is your letter still true?” Isaac whispered. “Everything you wrote, is it still true?”

“Yes,” you breathed, looking at your hands. “I still love you,” you mumble.

“Fuck it,” Isaac mumbled before tilting your chin up and pressing his lips to yours. Your brain short circuits, your breath catches in your throat, and all you can think is, ohmygodheskissingme. The small voice in your head sends you a swift kick, though, and you kiss back, relishing the feeling of his lips on yours. It ends too soon, and Isaac pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his nose tickling yours and his breath ghosting your lips. “I love you, Y/N,” Isaac whispered, his thumb brushing your jaw and his other squeezing your waist. “Don’t leave again.”

“Never; I’m never leaving again.”

#isaac lahey x reaer #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #allison argent #writing #reader

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mastercherry · 2 years ago

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Okay so... Sterek. But like... Supernatural. You know what I mean?

Let me explain.

Demons in Supernatural right? You make a deal, you get 10 years, you get hunted down by hellhounds, you die.

Stiles in Teen Wolf right? Lost his mom as a boy? Maybe, let's say, he was 10 years old?

You see where I'm going with this?

Maybe you don't. There's a couple ways it could go I guess. But hear me out.

Claudia made a deal with a demon when she was in the hospital to give birth to her son. John/Noah wasn't there yet. He was on his way to the hospital after getting a call that there were complications. See, she wasn't due for another 2 weeks.

Anyways, Claudia prays for anyone that's listening to save their son. And one demon happens to be lurking around looking for a body to use. He hears her pleas.

There's something about this request that intrigues him. She doesn't even care what happens to her, she just wants their son to be okay. The problem is, his young soul is already gone. All that's left is a tiny body clinging to life.

Here's the deal they work out, the demon will take over the child's body and it be exactly like having a baby and raising a son. He'll even set it up so no one remembers anything until the 10 years are up. Within months of the 10 year mark, they'll both regain the memories and the knowledge of their deal.

So Claudia and John/Noah have a son. When they give him a bizarre first name, they're both convinced it's one of their relatives' old family names. He goes by a nickname, Stiles.

And then, 10 years pass. Stiles and Claudia both remember what happened and what's going to happen. But here's the thing... Claudia... She isn't scared. She doesn't regret it. In fact... She... She sees his true face, and she kisses his cheek. "I know you're not human, but you're still my son. I love you," and she uses his real name.

And here's the thing. He loves her too. And his da- John/Noah. He loves them both so much. He wants to spare them both the pain that this deal will cause, but he doesn't have that kind of power. He's strong, but he's not strong enough to take on the powers of hell, not even for Claudia.

What he CAN do is prevent the hellhounds from tearing her apart. And try to give them all more time.

They get a few extra months after his 10th birthday before she's entered the hospital one last time. The one bad thing is that she forgets who and what he is sometimes and she screams at him and calls him a monster. He could fix that, but he wants it to hurt. He wants to feel this pain. He wants to see that look in her eyes. He deserves it.

Anyways.... so yeah. That's the real story of how Claudia died and how Stiles got his first name.

And so Stiles is a demon. Who has stopped demoning to be the human son of the sheriff of a small town in California. He doesn't use his powers anymore, hasn't since Claudia. He doesn't want to be found. He wants to spend as much time with his dad as he can.

And then all the werewolf shits happens.

And yeah, so many possibilities. I could keep going on and on about it.

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #supernatural #derek hale #ao3 #archive of our own #prompt #sterek prompt #sterek is endgame #sterek is eternal #demon stiles #stiles is a demon

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siriuslymcfly · 7 months ago

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Back by popular demand (and very late because I forgot about this fic 😅) I only wrote one chapter I’m v sorry folks but here it is anyways 💙

Red, White and Royal Blue: Sterek Edition

“Stiles! Stiles!” A few voices scream his name as Stiles waves awkwardly at them before ducking into the car, narrowly missing the doorframe with his head (it wouldn’t be the first time he’d brained himself in front of a few dozen people, he’s proud of himself for avoiding it this time). The blacked out windows help with the flashing lights of the cameras but Stiles can still hear the yelling, can still see the expectant faces of the people who had been waiting for him outside.

Something throbs painfully behind his eyes and he sighs, resting his head back against the seat as the car pulls away. Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel the start of a migraine and he just wants to curl up in his bed and never leave again. The movement tugs at the tuxedo sleeve. Frustration rears and Stiles suddenly pitches forward in his seat so he can tear the restrictive jacket off and throw it into the space beside him where his bow tie soon follows. Even then, with his top two buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up, Stiles still feels confined, still feels the walls of the armored car closing in on him and he shuts his eyes. He takes three deep breaths and he tries to remember his grounding thoughts.

Being the President’s son isn’t exactly how Stiles saw his life turning out. He used to be a normal kid, happily living a completely mundane life in Northern California with his dad, the Sheriff of their small town. Their lives hadn’t exactly been easy; his mom passed away when he was 8 and his dad struggled with that for a long time - being a single parent (and single income) was hard, especially when your kid had ADHD and was prone to acting out as a way of dealing with his feelings. But they made it work.

Then his dad got into local politics. Stiles still can’t remember what the catalyst had been to make his dad run, but he was a popular Sheriff who the town respected, so he won. Then the suits came riding in and they said things like strong potential and man of the people and Stiles began to see less and less of his dad and more and more of the campaign advisors. They thought his dad could reach more of the American population because of his law enforcement background but left leanings in general, and Stiles could see that the promise to make a difference, to enact real change, was appealing for his dad. So he gave him his full support in whatever he chose, because what else was he supposed to do? Stiles hadn’t seen his dad that animated since before his mom died. How could he be the one to take that away?

After numerous state positions, his dad ran for the highest office of the United States. And he won. Which meant moving to Washington DC, and all that entailed.

Stiles still isn’t used to the security. After three years he should be, really, but it’s still strange to him that he can’t even go get a coffee after class without two men in black suits and freaking ear pieces following a few steps behind. Or that he has to attend fancy galas with every political bigwig in the country and he has to be charming and personable and he has to behave. Which is difficult for someone who never really developed those habits as a kid and has now found himself at 21 years old a household name. Everyone knows him. It’s weird.

But his dad is making a difference, and Stiles is living in basically a modern day castle, and he gets as many red vines as he wants, whenever he wants, so things aren’t all terrible.

“Stiles,” Lydia Martin fixes him with a stern glare, her green eyes narrowed as she reaches over and straightens his tie - Stiles had purposefully shifted it to see if the redhead would notice and he grins when she does. “This is Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace, Stiles.”

“Saying it twice doesn’t make it more impactful,” Stiles grumbles, under his breath of course because he’s not a madman, he knows what Lydia is capable of. She ignores his words.

“We need to make a good impression. You can’t say whatever you want, or do whatever you want. You can’t-”

“Be myself?” Stiles matches her glare and Lydia pulls the tie tighter than necessary before she smiles sweetly and settles back in her seat.

“Exactly,” she replies. “Just stand there and look pretty, and let me do the talking.”

Stiles snorts. “Aw, Lyds, you think I’m pretty?” He bats his eyelashes at her and she rolls her eyes, but he can see the laugh she wants to let out. Instead, Lydia pulls out her phone and checks something, her long, perfect nails clacking loudly against the screen, and Stiles rolls his head to the side so he can stare out the window.

The streets are lined with people waving British flags and cheering for the guests who are making their way to the palace for the wedding reception. Since his dad is busy with, you know, running an entire country and all that, Stiles was asked to attend the royal wedding of the Princess of Wales, alongside his dad’s Vice President’s daughter. He and Lydia are often lumped together for public events. At first, Stiles had been overjoyed - he instantly fell in love with the ruthless, calculating redhead - but the more time they spent together, the more Stiles realized they were never meant to be (and that Lydia was way out of his league). So they settled on allyship.

Afterall, they were the only people in the world who could truly understand what the other was going through. There was a kind of kinship that Stiles assumed was similar to that developed between soldiers in the trenches. And yes, Stiles was comparing his public schedule to actual warfare, and no, he wasn’t about to apologize for that. He’s 147 pounds of uncoordinated nerd who flails any time a camera is present and has zero brain to mouth filter. How do you think he’s handling public life? It certainly isn’t with the kind of natural grace that Lydia has, that’s for sure.

The Royal Family (capital R and F absolutely intended) are a bunch of antiquated snobs, in Stiles’ mind, and any interaction he was forced to have with them was always a waste of his valuable time. Instead of standing here in his uncomfortable suit and too-tight tie waiting to be greeted by Princess Laura and her new husband, Stiles could be out exploring the city, or back in his hotel room talking to Scott, or, hell, he’d even take studying over this right now. He shifts impatiently and the sigh he lets out is probably a little too loud going by the elbow to the ribs Lydia gives him, but Stiles does it again to make a point and ignores the hot glare he can feel burning holes into the side of his head.

Stiles rolls his shoulders and twists his neck against his collar and he wants to go back in time and strangle the guy who invented dress shirts. His fingers itch with the sudden urge to grab his phone so he can find out who exactly that was, but he’s fairly certain that would be frowned upon, especially since Princess Laura has finally arrived and is making her way down the long line of foreign dignitaries. He leans forward in the line so he can see how far away she is, and then his eyes find the one person he had been naively hoping to avoid today.

Prince Derek is the definition of tall, dark and brooding. He looks like he’s stepped out of a Brontë novel with his chiseled jaw and his hazel eyes and those freaking eyebrows that were more expressive than anything Stiles had ever seen before. There’s a calm, detached expression on Prince Derek’s face as the man greets each person cordially, nodding his head and just exuding superiority and Stiles hates him. He hates his perfectly styled hair and his annoyingly broad shoulders and those dumb bunny teeth that would peak out briefly when Derek smiled at someone - not at Stiles though, never at Stiles. Ever since that climate conference in Melbourne, Stiles has declared Prince Derek his mortal enemy, and he’s sure Derek thinks the same way.

The youngest of the royal children, Princess Cora, approaches them first and Stiles greets her politely, but he’s so focused on the man beside her that he totally misses what she says. Prince Derek is practically scowling at Stiles, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and all Stiles can think to do is grin widely because he knows it will make Derek’s face sour even more.

“Hey!” He greets him cheerily. He’s sure there are customs here, a stupid bow or something he’s supposed to do, but even if Stiles could remember what they are, he wouldn’t be doing them. “What’s up dude?” Stiles is a little shit and he’s proud of it, so when Derek basically turns his nose up at him and continues to walk without even a word, Stiles just chuckles to himself and shakes his head. He glances to his left and the Spanish ambassador is staring at him in shock, so Stiles shrugs at him before Lydia grabs his arm and begins marching them into the next room.

Stiles locates the first waiter with a tray of champagne and grabs two flutes. He downs the first before the guy can even move on and places the empty glass back on the tray as he flashes him a wide smile, then grabs another to take to Lydia. He dodges people with the glasses held up above his head to stop them spilling as he makes his way through the crowded room. Other guests seem to have noticed Stiles’ lack of coordination and start giving him a wide berth, so by the time he reaches Lydia he’s got half the eyes of the room on him but the champagne is safe.

He loses track of how many glasses he has. It’s not really his fault - the guests here are so dull and the wine is actually really good stuff, much better than what they serve at the White House (you would never hear him admit that aloud). At some point Stiles moves on to scotch, because, you know, when in Rome. He sips the sweet liquid happily as he follows Lydia around while his friend converses pleasantly with all the fancy people. Stiles cuts in when he feels like it, but mostly he lets Lydia do the schmoozing - she’s so much better at it really, and this way Stiles can keep his eye out for any royals he wants to avoid, particularly the Duke of York, Peter, who just creeps him out honestly.

Eventually though, Stiles gets bored of trailing after Lydia and he leaves her with some Viscount of Narnia or whatever and goes in search of more alcohol. Of course the Brits are too good for an actual bar, so Stiles has to pull aside one of their exceptionally dressed servers to get him a refill. They ask him what scotch he wants and Stiles kind of panics and blurts out “the oldest you’ve got” because he’s pretty sure older means better, or at least he’s heard that before. But he should have remembered where he is and who he’s talking to, because the server comes back with his glass full of a very dark liquid and tells him it’s some vintage reserve Macallan that Stiles immediately googles and realizes is basically priceless. It doesn’t stop him drinking it though. These guys can afford it, he thinks to himself.

Stiles wanders back towards the main room, his limbs light and his head a little heavy, but everything more relaxed. The room feels open now, and Stiles knows that’s just the alcohol talking but he doesn’t actually care at the moment. When he spots Derek standing near the cake - the absolutely ridiculous, six-tiered monstrosity of a cake - Stiles doesn’t hesitate to head over. He skips around someone on his way, slapping the person on the back as he does with his free hand and apologizing brightly and he sees Derek wince at the interaction which only makes Stiles grin at the other man.

“Hey dude,” Stiles greets him, knocking Derek’s arm with his own.

Derek sighs. “Stiles,” he glances around them like he’s worried people will see them talking. “Are you enjoying yourself?” The prince raises his eyebrows and pointedly looks at the glass Stiles is holding.

“Oh yeah,” Stiles takes a long sip. “This stuff is great. Did you know it’s like 50 years old? I mean,” he raises the glass so he can peer at it and doesn’t notice some of it splashing onto his fingers, “that’s crazy, right?”

Derek hums and those eyebrows are definitely judging him, Stiles can tell.

“Your eyebrows are very judgy,” Stiles tells the prince, because he believes in honesty. Derek rearranges his features into that familiar cool detachment.

“Oh, I do apologize,” Derek drawles. “Though in your company I think it’s rather inevitable.”

“Where do you even learn to speak like that?” Stiles gestures with his glass for emphasis and snorts when some of the scotch sloshes onto Derek’s red sash he’s got on under his jacket. Derek looks far less amused.

“Eton College,” the prince deadpans in answer to Stiles’ question as he wipes down his clothes with disdain.

Stiles rolls his eyes so hard he feels his whole head go with them. “Well I’m sorry,” he somehow manages to stumble over his own feet even though he’s sure he’d been standing still. Stiles doesn’t worry too much about it though - he’s clumsy, okay? - he’s more concerned about the cake frosting that’s now on his hand where he’d managed to catch his fall by clinging to the table beside them.

“For what?” Derek doesn’t seem to have noticed the mistake yet so Stiles hides his hand behind his back.

“That we can’t all be as privileged as you, your majesty.”

Derek looks to the ceiling like he’s asking for strength to resist rising to Stiles’ taunts. “It’s your royal highness,” he sighs. “Your majesty is reserved for the king.”

“Oh,” Stiles flails again, momentarily forgetting about his cake-covered hand and he manages to fling some at Derek, which lands exactly on the lapel of his stupid, perfectly-fitting jacket. The prince stares down at the food stain like it’s morally offended him, then his gaze lifts back up to Stiles and there’s a flash of anger in his blue-green eyes.

“Really?” He hisses, stepping closer to Stiles, and Stiles feels bad - he really does - so he tries to help by reaching out to brush the frosting off, except he’s somehow managed to get cake on his other hand too so he ends up just wiping more of it onto Derek, who’s looking increasingly furious.

“Oh man,” Stiles groans, “I’m sorry, I-“ He pauses when Derek suddenly catches his wrist in his hand and he glances up in shock. He only has a second to notice just how close they really are before he flinches back in surprise, expecting Derek to let go, but the prince somehow comes with him and then they’re both tripping backwards towards the table.

Time appears to slow down for a moment and Stiles watches in horror as his body falls without his permission, and then everything seems to blur - the table wobbles, the cake sways, the faces around them turn in their direction. And then it all happens at once. Stiles’ back hits the wooden floor hard and a jolt of pain shoots up his spine, then suddenly Derek is landing on top of him before rolling to the side just as the monstrous cake lurches forward and its momentum brings it toppling down onto them. Vanilla sponge and sugary icing splatter everything within a six foot radius as the flash of a camera goes off.

as a Brit American it’s my dual-national duty to do a red white and royal blue sterek fic right?

#sterek #sterek fics #red white and royal blue #rw&rb #stiles stilinski #derek hale #my loves #I really should continue this #if I get enough love on this maybe I will #👀

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the-cookie-of-doom · 3 years ago

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In estranged , what if claudia took Mitch with her? What would their dinamics be like? How would Mitch feel about Noah stilinski? What is his reaction when he finds out he's about to have a baby brother? I just need Mitch being ruthelssly protective of stiles. I need stiles being spoiled by Mitch and them having the cutest sibling pair ever. I need Claudia teaching Mitch how to control his powers and teaching him about ✨magic✨. I need Mitch being the most famous lacrosse player in school and little stiles, Noah and Claudia cheering for him across the field. I need Mitch taking over his father's company ( he's still the heir) fixing it up the same way , but this time he has actual support. I need Mitch having real friends and family 🥺💔

Oooh this is a Good Ask, I love talking about the What Ifs 👀 (Edit to add: Also, not many people realize, but Estranged really is a tragedy. And seeing it side by side with how things could've been just makes it worse.)

The central mystery of the AU is why Claudia didn't take him with her (and there was a reason! She didn't just abandon him like everyone assumes), so I can't tell you much about that without spoiling the whole thing! I promise I'm going to write the sequels some day. But let's just say that she was protecting him, and the Nogitsune is involved.

I can also say that had they actually been raised together, they would've been a platonic pair. They only end up together in Estranged because they're strangers to each other, and their respective abandonment issues react interestingly, shall we say xD

But aside from that, it would pretty much happen exactly as you think! Mitch has no love for his own father, so I think he would respect John bc he makes his mom happy, and that's all Mitch wants. But John would treat Mitch just like a son and before long, Mitch would love him like a father.

I think in this case, rather than casting Mitch aside, Robert (his father), would have sued for custody. He would see it as Claudia not only leaving him, but stealing his heir, and he can't have that. And Mitch knows it; his father only wanted a legacy, not a son. There's also the fact that a lot of men sue for custody as a way to hurt their partner, by taking away her children. Robert is spiteful enough to do that, given their divorce reflects badly on him and his reputation.

In the beginning Robert might be more active in Mitch's life than he was in Estranged. Might try to bribe him with materialistic things, giving him a lavish life to make Mitch choose him over Claudia, but it never works. Because on one hand, you have a rich life that's cold and hollow with a father who doesn't care; or you have a more modest life with a family that loves you. Mitch is the kind of person to choose family every time, at least in this AU.

When he's old enough (I think it's 15, but it could be younger), Mitch would choose to stay with Claudia full time. At that point Robert would likely fully cut him off, aside from what he's legally required to pay, and give up his parental rights. Maybe Mitch should be hurt that his father is throwing him away, but he's really just relieved that it's finally over. And it means John could adopt him and officially, legally become his father. But until then, Mitch would have to live with being jerked around between two parents, which only gets harder when Stiles is born, because he doesn't want to leave his little brother behind. (Maybe it's every other month, given the distance.)

Also at some point, Mitch definitely tries to create credit fraud, probably when he's like 13 lol. He's just a kid but the financial differences are obvious. Claudia thinks it was very sweet that he was trying to help, but makes him give everything back. (In "canon", Mitch does steal his dad's credit card and buys a plane ticket to California when he's I think 14? But he gets caught before he can make it.)

Mitch would probably be so excited to have a little brother, but also Worried bc his childhood was so emotionally Rough, so he promises to always make sure Stiles is loved and cared for ;_; I think there's the opportunity for jealousy bc Stiles has both of his parents to unconditionally love him, meanwhile his are divorced, but honestly? Claudia raised him better than that. Mitch just wants to be a Good Brother.

Since a lot of his problems with his powers come from Claudia locking them until she died, Mitch would have a way better time growing up with her. She would teach him how to properly use and control them, and keep them from overwhelming him. In Estranged, the telepathy is actively killing him, but she would be able to protect him from that. And then when Stiles gets his powers, Mitch would get to help teach him, too.

Mitch would likely also have a tie to the Hales, since he'd have gone to school with Derek and Laura. Given he's psychic, he would've been able to protect Derek from Kate, and the Hales never would've died. (And bc I can't help myself: Mitch would probably end up dating Laura, and Stiles would eventually become Derek's mate/the Hale emissary. I like what I like, okay!)

Mitch would absolutely be a lacrosse star. It's American Assassin canon, and it's one of my favorite things about Mitch. He would still get the scholarship to Syracuse, but where he turned it down in Estranged bc he didn't need it, this time he would actually accept it, and go on to have a great college sports career. Or maybe he takes a smaller partial scholarship to a school closer to home.

I just reread the ask and see you want him to still take over the company, but I was actually thinking that in this AU, it would take a different direction. Robert lives bc Mitch was never there to kill him; his company is run into the ground and he doesn't know he's been betrayed by his partners until it's too late. That legacy he worked so hard for, destroyed his family for, turns to ashes right in front of him. He lives, but for a man like him, it's worth than death.

Meanwhile he gets to see Mitch's success grow. He's making headlines in college, and Lacrosse is much bigger on the east coast so of course his father would hear about it. He's got offers to go pro, but Mitch has lived the high life before, and he doesn't want it. He chooses a modest life with his family, in a career he loves, over money and fame. Works in a few different restaurants in San Francisco until he has the experience to open one of his own. He names it Orion, as a final fuck you to his father. (And, on a more sappy note - Orion is one of the main constellations to navigate by. It's what guides him home; to his real family, and the life he's built, not the one his father wanted for him.)

Because Mitch is with Claudia, fully trained in his magic, she never dies. There are other conflicts and close calls, but they're able to protect each other, and a young Stiles. But she never gets FTD, bc in Estranged, that not even what she had in the first place, and they survive. Not unscathed, but it's not they can't get through together ;_;

And then, the day Mitch is finally able to open his own restaurant (Either the same age he is in Estranged, or a little older, but definitely still Young for the industry), his family are all there to support him. John and Claudia and Stiles, and it will be absolutely packed (haha) with the Hales opening night. It's one of the proudest days of his life.

#cookie writes #success is the best revenge amiright?#The Hales probably offered to bank roll the restaurant as an engagement gift lmao #Mitch: gave up his family money and ends up marrying into Laura's xD #(I kid)#but also: it's a good thing he married a Hale bc he likes to cook and werewolves like to Eat #eventually he'll have babies of his own and it's always a toss up if they'll be magic or werewolf and he loves them either way #(or maybe they have twins one emissary and one wolf)#the story would be COMPLETELY different if Mitch grew up with Claudia #and now I want to write it #just as an AU of Estranged

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blackmissfrizzle · 5 years ago

Text

Mate

Summary: Derek reveals the real reason he avoids the reader.

Pairing: Derek Hale x black!reader

Warnings: Mentions of smut & violence

A/N: My Derek fic is finally finished! Now I gotta work on Peter’s

Moving to Beacon Hills wasn’t your choice. Your mom told you she had a dream and that Beacon Hills is where you’ll find your destiny. She was right, well at least you think she was. It’s hard to tell when your destiny refuses to spend time with you.

The first day you got to town you bumped into him. You just walked out of the gas station when you saw a group of familiar hunters harass him and vandalized his car. Immediately, you knew he was a werewolf if the hunters were messing with him, but you weren’t gonna let them treat him like that.

Your family was probably the only group of hunters who didn’t have an immediate distaste for werewolves and thanks to that you were blessed. A long time ago, an ancestor of yours saved a werewolf, who was being framed for murders in his village. Grateful for his compassion, the werewolf’s witch lover casted a spell on your bloodline. It allowed your family to be enhanced: faster, stronger, faster healing, and better sight and smell. Basically, your family was like Buffy the Vampire Slayer for werewolves. Except, most of the time you spent protecting werewolves instead of hunting them. The only time you hunted them were when there was strong evidence that one was killing people, like the Alpha here in Beacon Hills.

So, when you saw hunters messing with him, knowing he couldn’t do anything about without putting himself at risk, you had to do something. Just a flash of your new deputy badge and an utterance of your renowned last name had them scattering. And you what did you get in a return? A gruff thank you and he drove off without giving you his name.

Derek Hale was his name. You learned it the next day, when Chris Argent came to your house. The only Argent you’ve ever met was Kate and you couldn’t stand her, but her brother didn’t seem too bad, just another judgmental hunter. Kate on the other hand seemed certifiable crazy.

He warned you there was an alpha werewolf running loose and killing people, and he would love to have a hunter of your caliber to help him hunt the thing down. You declined his offer in a heartbeat. After working with his sister once you vowed to never to work with an Argent again.

The next time you saw Derek Hale was when him looking half dead and your boss’s son showed up on your doorstep. He been shot by Kate and the poison was working through him.

While Stiles raided your kitchen for snacks, you inspected Derek’s wound. Being that close to him, you got a better smell of his scent and it was intoxicating despite the poison in his blood. As you inspected it, he leaned in closer to you and you could’ve sworn he growled, “Mine,” but you disregarded it.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have what you needed to cure him, so you had to wait for Scott to find it at the Argent’s household. And in true Scott fashion he showed up at the last minute with the cure.

The downfall of Derek Hale is he’s a grumpy and pushes people away. You noticed it when you first met him, you noticed it with his interactions with Stiles, and you noticed it after he got smart right after Scott just saved his life. His disposition didn’t make him the easiest to trust, so you understood why Scott would rather trust the Argents. But both you and Derek knew the truth about them. They were a dangerous group of hunters.

Surprisingly, Derek dragged you along with him to show Scott the truth about the Argents. The three of you, ended up in a hospital room that housed Derek’s injured uncle. After Chris Argent told you about Derek, you looked him up at work and found out about the fire that killed his family. You had no doubt the Argents had a hand in it.

Soon after that, Derek and you spent more time together. Most of the time, you two were trying to figure out who the alpha was, but it was still quality time. He even let you talk him into watching a movie with you once.

With you, Derek wasn’t his usual grumpy self. He was reserved, never really opening up to you, but he could be really kind. The only time he seemed to cop an attitude with you was when you talked about the lawyer, who was always flirting with you.

That’s how you ended up at the Hale house. Last night you got stood up by lawyer bae and when you bumped into him at the grocery store, he scurried off. There’s only one person you know that makes people run off like that and his name is Derek Hale.

The tirade you had planned died out as soon as you saw Derek’s bare back as he was doing pull-ups on the doorframe.

“Well,” he said as his only acknowledgment to you. He didn’t even turn back to look at you, when he jumped down to do some impressive one-armed push-ups.

You didn’t like being ignored, so you sat on his back hoping to mess up his push-ups. Did it work? No. But were you impressed? Hell yeah! You weren’t a light chick; you had a curvier body that most wouldn’t think could keep up in the hunter lifestyle.

“Well what?” You asked, getting tired of only hearing his grunts, which by the way gave you some very naughty thoughts but that’s beside the point.

“You gonna cuss me out or what? I can smell your anger,” he held his push-up as he thought if he should finish his sentence, “…and other things.”

“What other things?” Your voice went up an octave.

Abruptly, Derek stopped his push-ups, jumped to his feet, and caught you before you could tumble to the ground. For balance you had to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

This was the closest to his face you’ve ever been to his face. Derek was even more beautiful up close. Unconsciously, you ran your nose along the length of his neck, and he smelled amazing, but there was something underneath his natural scent. Taking another sniff, you knew what you were smelling. It was arousal. Derek was aroused and you think you had a hand in it.

Smiling down at you, he asked. “Like what you’re smelling?” Derek Hale should smile more because it was dazzling.

“No! You stink!” You tried to unwrap yourself from him, but he gripped you tighter and put you against the wall. There was no guessing if he was aroused, because you could feel it between your legs and boy was it big.

“Aren’t you tired of this little dance?” Derek’s face was getting dangerously close to yours and if he got any closer you wouldn’t be responsible for what you did next.

“What dance,” you asked, entranced by his lips.

Gripping your chin, so your eyes met his, Derek replied, “The one where we pretend, we’re not attracted to each other.”

Since, he was so closed off, you tried to ignore your feelings for him, but never in a million years did you think Derek felt the same. “When did you-,” abruptly Derek covered your mouth to silence you. It was a little faint to you, but to Derek you knew the sound of 3 hunters were crisp to him.

Quickly, he bounded up the stairs and stuffed you in a closet. “Stay here.”

Apparently, your face said that you weren’t gonna listen, because Derek had to repeat himself with his blue eyes glowing.

From what you heard, Derek took down the first two hunters with ease, but the third caught him off guard. Focusing your hearing, the hunter’s voice became clear. It was fucking Kate Argent. Now there was no way you were staying put.

“Put it down,” you ordered while drawing your gun.

“Wow, you really are here. I thought Chris was lying when he said you moved to town and working as a deputy. What a waste of talent. We could really use your help tracking down the Alpha.” The thing about Kate that irked you the most was that she always had that stupid smug smirk on her face and right now, you wanted to knock it off.

Ignoring her, you looked over her shoulder to Derek, “You ok?”

“I thought I told you to stay in the closet.” Derek’s ungrateful ass growled at you. That’s why you can never do him a favor.

Kate looked between you two. “Oh, am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel?”

At the same time, both of you said, “We’re not dating.”

Kate turned to you, ignoring the gun you had in your hand. “Just between us girls, me and him dated once.” Her little revelation left you stunned to the point where you didn’t notice her pull out the machine gun.

Derek threw you over his shoulder and ran to the woods. Once, he felt there was enough distance he stopped and set you down. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you answered, but it didn’t matter. Derek was inspecting your body making sure there were no wounds. Eventually, he was satisfied, and he hugged you like he never wanted to let go.

“I can’t believe I thought this could work,” Derek whispered to himself, letting you go.

His pacing made you feel bad. There was only one emotion you were truly used to see Derek have, which was anger. But to see him nervous made you nervous.

To qualm his and your nerves, you tried to hug him, but he shrugged out of it. “That can’t happen. We can’t happen!”

“Why not?” You shouted. This was the first time you acknowledged to Derek that you were indeed attracted to him.

“Because everything good in my life ends up dead! Most of my family, my sister, and if you keep hanging around me, it’ll be you too eventually. I can’t let my mate die because of me.”

Mate? A werewolf having a soulmate was just a myth. Derek had to be confused. “Excuse me, did you just say mate?”

Derek looked up at you from his spot on the ground. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re my mate.”

“Derek that’s impossible. There hasn’t been a mated bond in centuries and its only between two werewolves, not one,” you tried to reason with him.

Hopping to his feet, Derek stalked towards you until your back hit the tree and he trapped you. “When did you meet me?”

The heat coming off of him was too much, you had to look down at your feet to be comfortable to answer. “The first day I moved here.”

Firmly gripping your chin, Derek forced you to look at him. “And since that day, has there been a day you haven’t thought about me? Because I can tell you, I’ve thought about you every single fucking day since that day at the gas station. Do you know how much restraint it took me not to kill Dale? What kind of name is Dale and who would even name their kid that?” Derek rambled on.

Was Derek actually jealous? To test your theory, you decided to test his buttons. “I don’t know. I think Dale is a cute name and it fits him so perfectly. Like have you seen him smile? It’s a work of art. I’m really upset that I didn’t go on that date with him.”

Derek was sporting his signature scowl and you had to stop yourself from laughing. It was too easy to rile him up. “Mines,” he growled and this time there was no tricking yourself that you misheard him this time.

Your mom did tell you your destiny was in Beacon Hills and you believed it was Derek, but you didn’t think it would mean him being your mate. When you found out about Derek, you thought you were to help him find the Alpha that killed his sister and maybe break him out of that hard shell of his, but being his mate was something that never crossed your mind.

The mate bond hasn’t happened in so long most thought it was a myth. And it certainly didn’t occur between a werewolf and a human. The closest connection between a werewolf and a human was for the human to be an anchor.

The mate bond is just a much stronger version of an anchor. A werewolf could share a telepathic bond with their mate, but more importantly it made each wolf physically stronger. It had to do something about the two wolves becoming one and complimenting each other strengths and weaknesses.

Logically, it made no sense for you and Derek to be mates. What strengths did you have that he already didn’t?

“You make me a better person,” Derek interrupted your thoughts.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s no doubt I can be asshole, but you straighten me out. You mellow me out. I’m a lot more sympathetic than I used to be. It doesn’t matter if I can break a door down, you are by far the strongest of us two.”

Derek had you shook. How did he know what you were thinking? “Did you uh- did you um, read my mind?”

“Yeah, um, sorry. I didn’t mean to. Our connection can be so strong at times and it lets us share a telepathic bond.”

“So, you mean to tell me that we’re not even properly mated yet, but we’re already sharing the telepathic bond!? And you still want to keep me away!?” You shrieked. You were in disbelief because a telepathic bond between mates only occurred after they’re formally mated, and it happens only to the strongest of mates. Thus, Derek Hale was royally fucking up.

Gripping your chin tightly, Derek made you look at him. “It’s for your own good. Even being friends with me is risky and I don’t think I’ll survive if something happens.”

Pissed that Derek thought you were some fragile little being, you decided to give him no choice but to be with you. “I guess I’ll just have to call Dale and screw his brains out. At least he’ll appreciate me.”

Barely five steps to your car and Derek tackled you to the ground. He hovered over you fully wolfed out.

“Aww, is the big bad wolf mad,” you mocked him, making him wrap his hand around your throat and lifting you up to him. “Last time I’ll tell you this: you’re mines.”

Five simple five words sparked something in him. “Then prove it to me.” Derek flipped you over on your knees and pulled you flushed against him.

He trailed kisses down your neck until he abruptly stopped. “If I wasn’t so picky about our first time, I’d fuck you right here and show you who you belong to.” Derek claimed before lifting you to your feet.

Once he heard the hunters leave, he walked you back to your car silently. “How about this Friday we go to an early dinner and then go to Scott’s game?” Derek offered once you got back to your car.

You smiled up at him, happy he was finally coming to his senses. “And Stiles’,” you corrected him.

Immediately Derek’s face went sour at the mention of the goofy teen. “Admit it, you love him.”

“He’s annoying.”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s a pain in my ass.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Derek’s forehead crinkled at the insult. “Fine. We’ll go to dinner then to Scott’s and Stiles’ game.”

“Great and you’ll be nicer to both of the boys,” you negotiated.

“We’re not even together and you’re already bossing me around.” Derek groaned, rubbing his temple.

Punching him in the shoulder, you scoffed, “I’ve been bossing you around, I just had to be more manipulative before.”

“True.” Derek leaned down and kissed you. “Well, as part of my demands, you can’t talk to Dale anymore.”

“Fine. It was your fault I was talking to him anyway. If you would’ve told me sooner, then I wouldn’t have to worry about him.”

“Fair point,” Derek ushered you into your car. “Call me when you get home and if you see Kate in public please don’t say anything to her.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll just beat her ass instead.”

Derek smacked his forehead at your stubbornness. “Y/N,” he growled. “Aren’t we teaching Scott how to control himself?”

“Yeah, what’s that gotta do with me?” Your upper lip snarled like you smelled a dead animal.

“Then shouldn’t you be a good example by showing control?”

Nodding your head side to side, you thought about your answer. “Yeah, I’ll show control by not beating her ass in front of Scott and her niece. How about that?”

Giving up on the conversation, Derek gave you a kiss on the cheek through your window. “Remember to call me. I don’t trust them not to attack you since they know you’re on my side.”

“I will.” You secured yourself with the seatbelt and stared at Derek, pondering if you really wanted to say what was on your tongue. Making your decision, you went for it as you put your car in drive. “Bye, mate.”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue and he returned the same departing words with a smile. “Bye, mate.”

Tags: @twistedcharismaaa @titty-teetee @chaneajoyyy @chasingsunlight @black-is-beautiful18 @princessshanae14 @pananegra @missdforever

#black!reader #derek hale #derek hale x black!reader #derek x black!reader #derek hale x reader #derek x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf #teen wolf fandom #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic

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fandomrewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Season 3a; Episode 2: Chaos Rising

Hello all! This chapter is my longest yet! I hope you enjoy it and as always constructive criticism is appreciated. Make sure to let me know if you want to get added to the taglist!

Season 3a; Episode 2: Chaos Rising

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of fighting and death

Word Count: 4,662

Season 3a masterlist

I stood leaning against the wall in Derek's loft watching as a nervous Isaac paced the room. Derek sat patiently at a work table, also watching the nervous teenager.

"I'm starting to not like this idea. It sounds dangerous. I definitely don't like it. And I definitely don't like him." Isaac states.

I bite my lip as Derek tries to reassure his Beta, "You'll be fine."

"Why does it have to be him?"

"He knows how to do it. I don't. It'd be more dangerous if I tried it myself."

"You know Scott and (Y/N) don't trust him." I nodded in agreement with Isaac's statement, "And personally, I trust them."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah." He answers without hesitation, "But I still don't like him."

"No one likes him."

"Ain't that the truth." I speak up for the first time since the conversation started. I make my way over to Isaac to try and comfort him a little more as the steel door of Derek's loft opens revealing Peter.

"Boys, (Y/N). Just an FYI. Yes, coming back from the dead left my abilities somewhat impaired, but the hearing? Still works. So I hope you're comfortable saying whatever it is you're feeling straight to my face." He says.

"You're an ass." I state.

At the same time Derek says, "We don't like you." He briefly looks at me then continues, "Now shut up and help us."

"Fair enough." Peter says, pulling his lips into a thin line.

Peter snaps his hand open to reveal his claws. I give Isaac a quick kiss on the cheek and squeeze his hand, "You'll be alright."

He nods and sits in a chair, nervously gripping the arm rests. He flinches as Peter gently touches his neck with his claws. "Relax. I'll get more out of you if you're calm."

Isaac's eyes connect with mine, I nod as confidently as I can to try and reassure him that everything will be fine. He takes a deep breath, relaxing. Derek and I look on as Peter readjusts his claws, trying to find the right placement.

"How do you know how to do this?" Isaac asks.

"It's an old ritual. Used mostly by Alphas since it's a skill that requires quite a bit of practice. One little slip and you could paralyze someone. Or kill them."

"Have you had a lot of practice?"

"I never paralyzed anyone." Peter simply states.

"Wait does that mean-" Isaac's sentence is cut off as Peter jams his claws in his neck. My eyes widen slightly but I stay still, heart beating rapidly as I watch both werewolves eyes light up.

Isaac jerks up in his chair, Derek moves forward to intervene but Peter's voice stops him, "Wait. I see them."

A few moments later Peter yanks his hand free of Isaac's neck, staggering back and breathless. I rush to Isaac as he starts to dip forward as if he was going to pass out. I gently push him back in the seat and grab his face, pushing his hair off his forehead.

Derek glances at Isaac to make sure he's alright before he addresses his uncle, "What did you see?"

"Not much. It was confusing. Vague images, phrases-"

"But you saw something." Derek interrupts.

Peter nods, "Isaac found them."

"Erica and Boyd?"

"I barely saw them. Just glimpses."

"But you saw them?" Derek questions.

Peter nods once more, his clawed hand squeezing into a fist, "And worse."

"Deucalion."

"He was talking to them. Something about time running out."

"What does that mean?" Isaac asks, turning in his seat to look at Peter.

Derek is the one to answer though, looking at Peter for conformation, "He's going to kill them."

"He didn't say that. But he did make a promise. That by the full moon, they'd both be dead." Peter says.

"The next full moon?"

Peter nods. "But that's tomorrow night." I say from my crouched position beside Isaac.

Peter nods once more.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Later in the day Scott told Derek and I that he, Lydia, and Allison needed to show us something. So we met in an empty classroom at the school, Stiles with us too of course. Since Derek and I were the two that didn't know what this was about we stood in front of the other four.

Allison and Lydia hold out their arms placing them next to each other. They both have bruises that make an odd shape. Derek looks up making eye contact with Allison and glares. She glares back as Derek says, "I don't see anything."

"Look again." Scott insists.

"How is a bruise going to tell me where Erica and Boyd are?"

"It's the same on both arms. Exactly the same."

"It's nothing." Derek argues.

"Pareidolia. Seeing patterns that aren't there. It's a subset of apophenia." Lydia states.

"What she said." Derek nods towards Lydia.

"Take another look."

"Scott, just stop. Clearly he doesn't see anything." I say.

"They're trying to help."

"These two?" Derek questions raising his eyebrows, "This one who used me to resurrect my psychotic uncle.” He points to Lydia then turns to point at Allison, “And this one who shot about thirty arrows into me and my pack?"

"To be fair, Lydia using you wasn't really her fault." I say, shrugging.

"And no one died." Stiles states, "There might have been some maiming. A little mangling. But no death. I call that an important distinction."

"My mother died." Allison says.

"Your family's little honor code killed your mother. Not me." Derek snaps.

"He has a point." I mumble, earning a glare from the young hunter. I quickly avert my eyes and hold up my hands in an act of surrender.

"Okay, can everyone back off for a second?" Scott questions.

Allison looks back at Derek, "That girl was looking for Scott and (Y/N). I'm here to help them. Not you."

"You want to help? Find something real." The Alpha states.

He turns to leave being stopped by Scott who starts a whispered conversation that I can't help but listen in on. "Give her a chance. We're all on the same side now."

"Then maybe you should tell her what her mother was actually trying to do that night." I knit my eyebrows together at that statement as I watched Derek leave.

As soon as we disperse, I ask Scott, "What did Derek mean?" Scott raises an eyebrow, "What was Allison's mom trying to do that night?"

Scott sighs, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Scott." I warn.

"She tried to kill me. She found out that Allison and I were still seeing each other and she wasn't happy. Derek saved my life."

My eyes widen in shock and I nod, trying to process what Scott just told me. Stiles then speaks trying to change the topic, "What does a pack of Alphas want with Erica and Boyd?"

"I'm not sure it's them they want." Scott answers.

"What- Derek? Like they're recruiting?"

But Scott doesn't answer as something catches his eye. As Stiles and I walk ahead, we slow when we realize that Scott isn't with us anymore. "Scott?" I ask. At the sound of his name he shakes his head and catches up.

*_*_*_*_*_*

I sit behind Scott in Coach's class waiting for the lesson to begin. Coach slams a book down on his desk to get the class's attention. "The stock market is based on two principles. What are they?" he questions, looking out at the sea of students.

Scott raises his hand, "Yes, McCall, you can go to the bathroom."

I smile and shake my head as Scott answers, "Coach, I know the answer."

"You serious?"

"It's risk and reward." I lay my hand on Scott's shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze, showing that I'm proud of him.

"Who are you and what have you done with McCall? Don't answer that. I like you better." He then turns away from Scott to address the class, "Does anyone have a quarter?"

Stiles hastily reaches into his pocket to pull one out. But along with the quarter an XXL condom falls out. I watch Stiles horrified face quickly become red.

Coach picks the condom up, handing it to Stiles, "Stilinski, I believe you dropped this. And... congratulations."

I hold a hand to my mouth to try and stifle my giggles. I lean over to whisper, "Getting lucky, Stiles?" He sends me a glare as Scott's body starts to shake with a silent laugh.

I turn my attention back to Coach just as Danny asks, "What's the reward?"

"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."

"Coach, it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it."

"Danny, to be honest, I really expect more from you by now."

He yanks the quarter off of Danny's desk and places it on Scott’s, "The risk, McCall, is if you don't get the quarter in, you take the pop - you take the quiz - and you have to write an essay. Risk: More work. Reward: No work. Or: Choose not to play."

Scott picks up the quarter as he thinks, "But isn't this just chance?"

"No. You know your abilities. Coordination, focus, past experience. All affecting the outcome. So what's it going to be, McCall? More work? No work? Or choose not to play?"

Scott takes one last look at the quarter in his hand then sets it back down on his desk. Coach picks it up, "No play! Other McCall, what about you?"

He sets the quarter in front of me and I smirk. I reach for the quarter and stand up, flipping my hair over my shoulder as I make my way to the front of the room. "That's what I'm talking about (Y/N), show them how it's done." Coach says happily.

I bend down slightly, quarter held between my thumb and forefinger. I line up my shot and let the quarter go, bouncing it straight into the mug. I smile brightly retrieving the quarter from the mug and handing it off to Coach. "Good, no work for (Y/N). Who's next?"

Stiles jumps up ready for a turn, "There's a gambling man." Coach says as he hands Stiles the quarter.

As he's lining up his shot though, the door opens, Sheriff Stilinski standing in the doorway, "Stiles -" Coach starts to speak.

"Yeah, Coach, I got this." Stiles says.

"Stiles." His dad speaks, breaking the teenagers concentration.

He glances back and moves to step into the hall with his dad. Scott and I instantly use our heightened senses to hear what's going on, "I couldn't find her. I thought she'd just hooked up with her other friends. Has no one really seen her since last night?"

"We've put out an A-P-B. But, Stiles, all of her friends say you were the last person who saw her."

"Me?"

"We're hoping it's just some bad decisions brought on by too much to drink. But if you remember anything else, you call me. Okay?"

*_*_*_*_*_*

After Coach's class I make my way to the library with Lydia and Allison. Sitting down at a table to work on some homework I hear Lydia speak, breaking the silence, "I want one."

I look up and Allison and I follow her gaze to the twins, "Which one?" Allison asks.

"The straight one, obviously." Lydia answers.

I bite my lip as I watch Lydia stand up and make her way over towards the twins, not liking the idea of my best friend getting with a werewolf that I know nothing about.

"Hey, what if it's not a symbol? What if it's actually a logo?" Allison asks.

She looks up to see Lydia with one of the twins and Danny with the other. Then she looks at me, waiting for an answer, "It's not a logo I recognize, but it's possible."

*_*_*_*_*_*

After school Scott, Stiles, Derek, Isaac and I meet at the animal clinic to get Deaton's help with Isaac's memory. We filled a tub with ice water as Isaac tentatively reached a finger out to touch the water.

"Obviously, it's not going to be particularly comfortable. But if we can slow your heart rate down enough you'll slip into a trance - like state." Dr. Deaton says to Isaac.

"Like being hypnotized?" Isaac asks.

"Exactly. You'll be half transformed. It'll let us access your subconscious mind."

"How slow does his heart rate need to be?" Scott questions the vet.

"Very slow."

"And uh, how slow is very slow exactly?" I ask, starting to feel nervous.

"Nearly dead."

I gulp as Isaac asks, "But it's safe, right?"

"Do you want me to answer honestly?"

"Not really."

My eyes are locked on Isaac's worry evident on both of our faces, before either can say anything we hear a snapping sound. We break eye contact looking towards the sound. Stiles is pulling on latex gloves, "What?" he asks innocently when he realises everyone’s eyes are on him.

I shake my head, focusing my attention back on Isaac as he removes his shirt. "If it's too risky you don't have to do this." Derek says to his Beta.

Isaac answers by stepping into the tub and sitting down. I lean over to give him a quick peck on the lips. He shakily smiles at me, takes a couple of deep breaths, then nods to let us know that he's ready. Grabbing him by his arms, Scott and Derek plunge Isaac into the ice water.

Isaac bursts up from the icy water, gasping for breath. His eyes are glowing the Beta yellow and fangs are protruding from his mouth. "Get him back under." Deaton says.

Derek and Scott push Isaac back under as I watch nervously from the side. Stiles stands beside me, I can see from the corner of my eye that his eyes are more focused on me.

Isaac shoots up another time as Deaton says, "Hold him."

"We're trying." Gasps slip from Isaac's throat, I hold my hands up to my mouth, forgetting to breath as I watch. Finally, Isaac's body relaxes. He slips back into the ice and his breathing slows as his eyes close.

Deaton whispers, "Now remember, only I talk to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out."

We all nod so Deaton continues, this time addressing Isaac. "Isaac? Can you hear me?"

"Yes. I hear you."

"This is Dr. Deaton. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"

"Yes, it's all right." Isaac answers, teeth chattering from the cold.

"I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible. Like you were actually there again."

"No - No, I don't want to do that." He tenses and starts to rise up from the water. Scott and Derek gently push him back, but he begins to struggle against them.

"It's all right, Isaac. They're just memories. You can't be hurt by a memory."

At Deaton's words, Isaac relaxes once more. "So let's go back to that night. To the place you found Erica and Boyd. Can you tell me what you see? Is it some kind of building? A house?"

"Not a house. The walls are stone. Like marble."

"That's perfect. Can you give me any other descriptors?"

"It's dusty. Empty."

"Like an abandoned building? Isaac?"

"Someone's here." Isaac's hand wraps around Scott's wrist.

"Isaac, relax."

"They're here - they're coming." Isaac panics.

"They can't hurt you. It's just a memory. Your memories can't hurt you."

Isaac begins to breath hard, his grip around Scott loosens. "They can't hurt you. Just relax." Finally, he releases his grip on Scott who pulls back in relief. "Good. Now tell us what you see. Tell us everything."

"I hear him. He's talking about the full moon. About being out of control when the moon rises."

"Is he talking to Erica?"

"I think. I can't see her. I can't see either of them."

"What else is he saying?" Stiles asks. I elbow him as Deaton puts a finger to his lips, reminding him to be quiet.

"Can you hear anything else?" Deaton questions.

"They're worried about what they'll do. During the moon. Worried they'll hurt each other."

Derek whispers something to Scott that I can't bring myself to listen to as my worried gaze is still locked on Isaac in the tub. "Isaac, we need to know where they are. Can you see them?"

"No."

"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of marker? A number on a door? A sign?"

Isaac draws in a sudden breath, "They're here." He whispers.

He tenses in the water as Deaton tries to calm him, "It's alright. Just tell us--"

"No, they see me. They see me." Isaac cuts off Deaton.

"This isn't working." Derek states, leaning forward, "Isaac, where are you?"

"You're going to confuse him." Deaton says to the Alpha.

Isaac, now sounding terrified, speaks once more, "They're coming- They found me."

"Just tell us where you are." Derek says again.

"I don't know-- It's too dark." He struggles in the water, Derek grabs a hold of him.

"Where are you?"

Ice spills across the floor around Derek who tries to hold Isaac still. "His heart rate- he could go into shock." Deaton says.

I step forward, tears brimming my eyes, "Derek, stop."

"Let him go," Scott says.

But Derek ignores us both, "Where are you? What did you see?"

"A vault- it's a vault - a bank vault."

Water splashes as Isaac quickly sits up in the tub. He is now alert and excited as he climbs out of the tub with Scott and Derek's help.

"I know where they are. I saw it. I saw the name." Isaac says as I wrap a towel around him and pull him into a hug to try and warm him up. "Beacon Hills First National. It's an abandoned bank. They've been keeping them in a vault. Locked inside-"

He trails off when he looks at everyone's concerned faces. "What? What's wrong?"

"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it?" Stiles asks.

Isaac shakes his head, confused. "You said when they caught you, they dragged you into a room. And there was a body in it."

"What body?"

"Erica. You said it was Erica."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Isaac continues to shiver as I rub my hands up and down his arms, "She's not dead." Derek insists.

"He said 'There's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave much room for interpretation." Stiles says.

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?"

"Someone else, obviously. Maybe the Alphas are collecting strays."

Scott turns his attention to Isaac, "Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle? The one who saved you?"

Isaac shakes his head, leaning into me for warmth, "She wasn't like us. And whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."

"What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against each other during the full moon and see who survives. It's like Werewolf Thunderdome." Stiles says.

"A werewolf fight club? C'mon, that can't be a thing." I say, eyes narrowing at the thought. “Can it?”

"Then we get them out. Tonight." Derek says.

"Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in." Deaton speaks, trying to reason with the Alpha.

"If Isaac got inside, so can we."

"But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?"

"We need a plan." Scott states.

"How do we come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?" Derek asks.

"Someone already did." We all turn to Stiles, who raises his phone up indicating that he found a way to get into the vault. He starts reading, "Beacon Hills First National closes doors three months after vault robbery. Doesn't say how it was robbed, but probably won't take long to find out."

"How long?"

"It's the internet. Minutes."

*_*_*_*_*_*

The next day Allison picks Lydia and I up for school. As we get out of the car we start talking about what Allison found out. "So mystery girl leaves a bruise on our arms that turns out to be the logo for a bank. What's she trying to do? Give us investment advice?" Lydia asks.

"Not at this bank. It's been closed for years."

"Allison, please tell me you aren't thinking about investigating by yourself." I question the hunter.

"Seriously, why aren't you telling Scott?" Lydia adds.

"Because according to someone I need to find something real." Allison answers. "You can't tell Scott that I think I found something, (Y/N/N)."

She pauses for a second, opening her trunk and grabbing her school bag, "Which reminds me. I can't drive you home today. I've got an errand to run after school." She says to Lydia, knowing that I was already getting a ride from Stiles.

"Allison-" I try to argue again.

"(Y/N), I'm fine. I'll be fine." She doesn't give me a chance to tell her that it's not and she'll be put in danger if she goes to explore.

*_*_*_*_*_*

After school we head to Derek's to go over the plan. Stiles unrolls a blueprint of the bank as we all crowd around to look. "Okay, see this? This is how they got in. A rooftop air conditioning vent. It leads down inside the wall of the vault which is here..."

Stiles trails off as he circles the vault with a red marker. "One of the robbers was lowered down into this shaft. The space is so small, with so little room to move, it took him twelve hours to drill through the stone wall into the vault. Then, over the entire night, they siphoned all of the cash up through that one little shaft in the wall to the guys on the roof."

"Can we fit in there?" Scott asks.

"Barely. And they patched the wall. So I'm thinking the kind of drill we need is a diamond bit-"

Derek cuts him off, "Forget the drill. If I go in first, how much space would I have?"

"What do you think you're going to do? Punch through the wall?"

"Yes. I'm going to punch through the wall."

"Oh really, tough guy? Make a fist."

Derek holds out a clenched fist. Stiles puts one hand on Derek's elbow and the other a few inches from his fist, "See this? That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid-"

His sentence is cut off as Derek slams his fist against Stiles' palm. "Mother of God." He clutches his hand in agony.

"I'll get through the wall. Who's following me down?"

He looks towards the three wolves in the room. "Sorry, but not me." Peter speaks up, "You know I'm not up to fighting yet. And, honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at good odds for yourself."

"I'm supposed to just let them die?"

"One of them is already dead."

"You're not helping." I snap, glaring at Peter. "I'm coming with you."

Derek gives a quick nod then turns to Scott, "What about you?"

"I don't know about Erica. But if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something. We have to try." Scott answers.

"But?" Derek prompts.

"Who's the other girl? The one locked in with Boyd?"

"I guess we're going to find out."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Once at the bank, Scott, Derek, and I cautiously approach through the alley behind the building. We pause under a fire escape. Scott reaches for one of the rungs but notices something, "Now I kind of wish we'd let Stiles come."

"Why?" Derek and I ask in unison.

"Because he'd be able to come up with something better than I told you so." He points to the bank name and logo, the logo is the same symbol that was bruised on Allison and Lydia's arms.

"Shut up and climb." Derek scolds. The two werewolves miss the sound of my heart beat speeding up.

Grabbing a ladder rung, Scott pauses yet again. "What?" Derek asks.

"Something I can't get out of my head."

"The moon's rising, Scott. What is it?"

"Risk and reward."

"Coach's class? What are you talking about?" I question my twin.

"We're not measuring the risk with enough information. We don't know enough."

"We know time's running out." Derek states.

"But think about it. They put the triskele on your door four months ago. What have they been doing all that time? Why wait until now?"

"Yes, Scott. We get it. It doesn't make sense, much like how last year I would have laughed in your face if you told me werewolves were real. We don't have time for this." I say.

"But what if this detail- the reason they waited- what if it's the most important one?"

"Then we don't do anything. And Boyd and Erica are dead. I know what I'm risking. My life for theirs. And I won't blame you - either of you- if you don't follow me." Derek says.

Derek then grabs the steel ladder rung of the fire escape and begins to climb. Me following closely behind and Scott following not long after.

After about 10 agonizingly long minutes Derek bursts through the wall of the vault. Scott and I tumble through just after, "Boyd?" Derek asks, he holds a hand in front of Scott and I so we are behind him.

A hulking figure is on the other side of the vault, its breath harsh and ragged. "Boyd, it's me. It's Derek."

A buzzing noise catches mine and Scott's attention. Scott pulls out his phone, "Stiles, now is not a good time-" He gets cut off by whatever Stiles is saying. I'm too focused on the figure in front of us to listen in.

"Derek, (Y/N/N). We have a problem. Really big problem." Scott speaks from behind us.

I turn to look at Scott but Derek's voice causes me to look back at the figure's in front of us, "Cora?"

"Who?" Scott and I say together.

"Cora?" Derek asks once more.

"Derek, get out. Get out of here." The girl, Cora, says.

Scott calls out, "No- no, wait!" Just as Boyd lets out a loud snarl, eyes glowing yellow. Immediately Derek and I unsheathe our claws, ready to defend ourselves.

As Derek and Scott fight Boyd I fight the girl. "You know her?" I hear Scott ask the Alpha.

"My sister- younger sister."

"I thought everyone in your family was dead?" I bluntly ask.

"Yeah, me too."

Looking over my shoulder briefly I see Allison standing at the vault door. Derek sees her approach the mountain ash lining the room, "No, don't- don't break the seal!"

"Boyd!" Allison calls, gaining the werewolves attention. The hunter swipes her hand across the seal, breaking it. Boyd and Cora both take off running, racing for freedom they haven't had in months.

Allison steps out from behind the door and is grabbed by Derek. "Don't touch her." Scott says.

"What were you thinking?" Derek asks, angry.

"That I had to do something."

"She saved our lives."

"Yeah, and put a lot of other lives in danger." I state.

Allison looks at me in shock that I was taking Derek's side, when in reality I was just stating the truth. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly happy that she saved our lives, but now we just have a bigger problem on our hands.

"You want to blame me? I'm not the one who turns teenagers into killers." Allison says, glaring at Derek.

"No, that's the rest of your family." Derek says.

"I made mistakes. But Gerard wasn't my fault."

"What about your mother?"

"What? What do you mean?" The hunter asks, confused.

"Tell her, Scott."

Allison turns to Scott, "What does he mean? Scott?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe

#teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine #isaac lahey imagine

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my-random-ocs · 3 years ago

Text

Rise Up Chapter 1: Percy Blows Up Another Building

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x OC (eventual)

Warnings: Mentions of Percy accidentally blowing up a school, betrayal, angst

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"You know this isn't as bad as you think," I told Annabeth, walking down the street.

"Of course it is!" Annabeth insisted. "It's awful!"

"You're being dramatic. Having feelings for Percy... it's great." Annabeth opened her mouth to protest, but I interrupted. "Look, he's a great guy. And it's obvious he's been in love with you since you nursed him back to health and announced he drooled in his sleep. What's so bad about having feelings for him?"

Annabeth looked down at the ground, kicking a pebble along with her feet. "I just- I feel vulnerable."

"Perfectly natural when you have a crush," I assured her.

She sent me a look. "Says the girl who's never had a crush."

"There was this one boy," I said, casting my eyes downward. I shake my head. "I was also ten and he was one of, like, two friends." The boy I was talking about was one I haven't talked about at camp often- even to Annabeth, though she was my best friend. Doing well in school was fairly uncommon when you're a demigod, what with a large percentage having learning disabilities, and skipping a grade was almost unheard of. I was an exception. I skipped the fourth grade, despite having ADHD and dyslexia. It also didn’t help that I’m on the autism spectrum, and that I had gotten kicked out of two elementary schools before Beacon Hills Elementary. I didn't have very many friends before I got to Camp Half-Blood, but there was this boy who was my best friend, and he always defended me.

“Zia!” Annabeth called, waving a hand in front of my face, breaking me from my thoughts. “Help, please!”

“What do you need help with?” I asked, smiling. “Gods, you’re dramatic! You’re not going to die for having feelings- what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is- I just- what if he doesn’t-” Annabeth stammered.

“The last words out of your mouth better not be ‘what if he doesn’t like me?’ because I will be forced to kick your butt,” I said. “Annabeth, the guy is crazy about you- or was last winter not enough proof of that?” Last winter, Annabeth had gotten kidnapped by a monster and taken to Mount Tamalpais. Percy had just about gone crazy with worry. Annabeth looked at her feet. I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Look, you guys are…” I wave my hand around, looking for the right words. “Meant to be.”

Annabeth snorted. “Oh, yeah, you’re definitely Aphrodite’s daughter.”

“Shut up,” I grinned.

More serious now, Annabeth said, “This is the first time I’ve told anyone. It just- it makes it real.”

I smile softly at her. “Look, whatever happens… you’re going to be okay. Just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Annabeth widened her eyes. “He could hear me?”

I laughed, linking my arm through hers and walking faster down the sidewalk toward Percy’s school.

My friend Percy Jackson was recently accepted into Goode High School, the school his mom’s boyfriend teaches English at. I attended Abigail Adams Academy, a K-12 private school near my apartment that I managed to get a scholarship to. I tried to talk him up to the principal there, but they heard Percy’s reputation of getting expelled, and didn’t want to deal with that. Right now, he is at orientation. Why a school held freshman orientation in June, who knows, but he was getting let out in a few minutes. After that, he and Annabeth were going to go to a movie, and that would be my cue to head to Percy’s apartment to visit his mom, Sally. I was meeting my sister and niece there.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed and I pulled it out of the back pocket of my jeans to see a text from my friend Kira. While I was still in the city, I had decided not to wear my camp gear, opting for plain jeans, a long-sleeve gray t-shirt, black converse high tops, and my favorite dark pink hijab. In early June, it was too warm for a jacket.

Hey the text read. Do you want to hang out tonight? Just rented Star Wars

I smiled. Love to. Text you later?

See you

I turn my phone off and put it back in my bag.

“Who was that?” Annabeth asked.

“My friend Kira,” I answered. “We go to school together.”

Just as Annabeth and I arrived at Goode High School, I spotted Percy sprinting down the hill. “Hey, you’re out early!” Annabeth said, clearly excited. She grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. “Watch where you’re going, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy’s appearance was my cue to leave and head to Sally’s apartment. I was about to say goodbye to both of them when a redheaded girl came out. “Percy! Wait up!” She called.

I glanced behind Percy and gasped at the sight of the smoking school in the distance, fire alarms ringing out. “What did you do?” I demanded, my eyes still on the scene.

“And who is this?” Annabeth frowned.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” I realized, recognizing her from last winter.

“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name last year.”

Percy was flustered. “Oh, Rachel- Annabeth and Zia. Guys- Rachel. Um, she’s a friend. I guess.”

“Hi,” Rachel greeted us quickly, then turned back to Percy. “You are in so much trouble. And you still owe me an explanation.

Sirens wailed, getting louder as they made their way up the street.

“Percy,” Annabeth said coldly. “We should go.”

“I want to know more about half-bloods,” Rachel said as if she didn’t hear. I looked at Percy in surprise. He told a mortal about demigods? “And monsters. And then stuff about the gods.” She suddenly grabbed Percy’s arm, took out a marker, and wrote a phone number on his hand. “You’re going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that. Now get going.”

Percy shook his head. “But-”

“I’ll make up some story,” Rachel insisted. “I’ll tell them it wasn’t your fault. Just go!”

Before anyone could respond, she ran back toward the school, leaving Annabeth, Percy, and I standing on the street.

Annabeth stared at Percy for a moment, then turned and took off down the street without a word.

I offered Percy an encouraging smile, then followed Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy called, jogging after us. “There were these two empousai-”

My heart stopped. “Empousai?” I demanded. I immediately reached for my camp necklace, and to a locket charm that hung there. In the locket was a photo of me, Nisha, and our father before the attack.

Percy nodded reluctantly, knowing that my father was killed by an empousa. “They were cheerleaders, see, and they said camp was going to burn, and-”

“You told a mortal girl about half-bloods?” Annabeth demanded.

I flinched at her tone, suddenly wishing I was anywhere but here.

“She can see through the Mist,” Percy explained.

“She can?” I asked.

Percy nodded. “Yeah. She saw the monsters before I did.”

“So you told her the truth,” Annabeth said.

“She recognized me from Hoover Dam, so-”

“You’ve met her before?”

“We met last winter, when we were looking for you,” I explained. “Percy almost killed her, and she could see the monsters then, too.”

Annabeth’s expression softened only slightly at the mention of her kidnapping. “She’s kind of cute,” she observed.

I looked at Percy, who was slightly confused. Oh, gods, Percy answer faster, please.

“I never thought about it,” he said.

Answer better.

Annabeth just kept walking.

“I’ll deal with the school,” Percy promised. “Honest, it’ll be fine.”

Annabeth wouldn’t look at either of us. “I guess our afternoon is off. We should get you out of here, now that the police will be searching for you.”

I nodded in agreement, fingering my camp necklace nervously as I watched flames billow up from Goode High School. What had Percy said? Camp would burn.

“You’re right,” Percy said. “We have to get to Camp Half-Blood. Now.”

____________

Annabeth was angry the entire cab ride to Long Island.

All Percy managed to get out of her was that she had had a monster-infested spring in San Francisco, and had come back to camp twice. She wouldn’t tell Percy why, but I knew- I had gone to camp for the same reason. We told Percy that neither of us had heard anything about Nico di Angelo, this demigod son of Hades we found last winter. After his sister died, he ran away from Camp Half-Blood, and, despite our best efforts, we have no idea where he is.

“Any word on Luke?” Percy asked.

Annabeth shook her head. The subject of Luke was a pretty touchy topic for Annabeth. He had practically raised her since she was seven, and she always admired him. About two years ago, he had betrayed the camp and joined Kronos, the king of the titans. Last winter, we fought him on Mount Tamalpais, and he somehow survived a fifty-foot drop off a cliff. Annabeth refused to admit it, but I knew that she still believed in him, and wanted him to come home. Me? The jerk betrayed his girlfriend, two young girls he helped raise, and an infant daughter, though he hadn’t known he had a daughter then, not to mention an entire camp who loved and admired him. Annabeth might not have lost faith in him, but I certainly have.

“Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters,” Annabeth said. “I didn’t dare go close, but I don’t think Luke is up there. I think I would know if he was.”

“What about Grover?” I asked, because I hadn’t really heard from him either.

“He’s at camp. We’ll see him today.”

“Did he have any luck with the search for Pan?” Grover had been searching for Pan since he heard the god’s voice last winter, but hasn’t heard anything since.

Annabeth fingered her bead necklace nervously. “You’ll see,” she said vaguely. Percy and I exchanged worried glances.

As we headed through Brooklyn, Percy called his mom with Annabeth’s phone, and I used my own to call my sister to tell her what was happening. Demigods normally try not to use cell phones, since using one is like broadcasting a light up sign saying “EAT ME”, but I knew my sister would be concerned. As understanding as she is about how suddenly I need to go to camp sometimes, she has the tendency to worry.

After that, the rest of the ride was silent. I decided to text Kira quickly, and tell her I wouldn’t make our Star Wars marathon tonight. I turned my phone off without waiting for a reply. Sometimes I wished I was normal. I loved camp, and my friends, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but sometimes, like today, I just wanted to hang out and watch a movie without the fear of monsters attacking or having to ditch them to go to camp because another friend accidentally blew up their school.

Eventually, Annabeth had the cab driver pull over on Farm Road 3.141, the base of Half-Blood Hill.

“Ain’t nothing here, miss,” the driver frowned. “You sure you want out?”

“Yes, please,” Annabeth said, and handed him a wad of cash. The driver decided not to argue.

We hiked up the hill, where the young dragon Peleus was sleeping, coiled around the pine tree. He lifted his head as we approached, and allowed me to scratch under his chin.

“Hi, Peleus,” I said. “Keeping everything safe, baby?”

Last time I saw Peleus, he was about six feet long, and now he was at least twice that, and as thick as the tree. Hanging on a branch was the Golden Fleece, protecting the camp’s magic borders from unwanted visitors, like monsters. Peleus was relaxed, so I knew nothing was wrong.

Camp Half-Blood itself looked peaceful, normal even- as normal as you can get at a camp with monster-infested woods, a climbing wall oozing lava, and real swords.

Still, something felt off. You could feel the tension in the air, as if the whole place was holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.

“I need to talk to Clarisse,” Annabeth said as we walked through the valley.

“What for?” Percy asked in surprise. Normally, Annabeth and Clarisse never even got along, much less worked together. But this was important.

“We’ve been working on something. Zia, too,” she answered. “See you later.” She turned to me. “Z, stay with Percy.” I nodded.

“Workin on what?” Percy asked, looking between Annabeth and I.

“I’ll tell Chiron you guys are here,” Annabeth said instead of answering the question. “He’ll want to talk to you before the hearing.”

“What hearing?”

She didn’t answer, jogging toward the Big House without looking back. Percy looked at me.

“We’ll explain later,” I said vaguely.

“Does… does it have something to do with Luke?” He asked tentatively.

I nodded, fingering my camp necklace. “It has everything to do with Luke.”

____________

Eventually, we made our way to the sword arena to train. We walked into the amphitheater, and Percy threw an arm across my stomach, pushing me back. My eyes focused on what he spotted, and my heart stopped. Sitting in the middle of the room, chewing on a combat dummy, was a hellhound.

It hadn’t noticed Percy or I yet, but it would soon.

Percy took out his sword, and charged. “Yaaaaah!” He yelled, bringing the blade down toward the hellhound when someone came out of nowhere and blocked Percy’s strike with a clang.

The hellhound perked up. “WOOF!”

I drew my own sword, ready to jump in, but Percy seemed to be handling it fine.

“Whoa, there!” The man yelled. “Truce!”

“WOOF!” The hellhound barked again.

“That’s a hellhound!” Percy shouted.

“She’s harmless,” the man said. “That’s Mrs. O’Leary.”

“Mrs. O’Leary?” I asked.

At the sound of her name, Mrs. O’Leary barked again, and I realized she wasn’t angry, but excited. She nudged the soggy practice dummy toward the stranger, and he happily took it, saying, “Good girl.” He launched it across the room toward the bleachers. “Get the Greek! Get the Greek!”

Mrs. O’Leary bounded after the dummy and started chewing on its helmet.

The stranger smiled dryly. He looked to be in his fifties, with short gray hair and beard. He was in good shape for a man that age. He wore black pants and a bronze breastplate over a camp t-shirt. I noticed a weird-looking purple blotch on his neck, like a tattoo, but he covered it with his armor before I could ask what it was.

“Mrs. O’Leary is my pet,” he explained. “I couldn’t let you stick a sword in her rump, now, could I? That might have scared her.”

“Who are you, exactly?”

“Quintus,” he said, sticking out his hand. I didn’t shake it, and he pulled it back toward his side. I didn’t love physical contact with people that I am not comfortable around (for example, holding hands and hugging my friends is fine, but Quintus was a stranger). Plus, I was Muslim, and there were certain restrictions for physical contact between a man and a woman, though sometimes I ignored them when it came to my friends.

“Zia Banerjee,” I answered, giving a small wave.

“Percy Jackson,” Percy said, eyeing the hellhound. “Sorry about- How did you, um-”

“Get a hellhound for a pet?” Quintus asked. “Long story, involving many close calls with death and a few giant chew toys. I’m the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr. D. is away.”

“Mr. D. is away?” I asked. Why would Mr. D. leave camp?

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Percy whispered, making me snort.

“Yes, well… busy times,” Quintus answered. “Even Dionysus must help out. He’s gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they’re on the right side. I probably shouldn’t say more than that.”

I slowly stepped toward Mrs. O’Leary while Quintus spoke. Despite the hellhounds I’ve encountered in my life, this one didn’t seem dangerous. Or, she was, but not to me, at least.

She stayed calm as I walked over, happily nudging my hand, clearly wanting pets. I giggled softly as I scratched the top of her head. She sighed. It almost looked like she was smiling.

“Good girl,” I smiled. “You’re such a good girl.”

“She’s very gentle,” Quintus said. “She won’t hurt you.”

“I can tell,” I laughed. “She’s so sweet.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thump. Six very large wooden crates were stacked off to the side, and something was rattling inside. Mrs. O’Leary heard and started toward them.

“Whoa, girl!” Quintus called quickly. “Those aren’t for you.” To distract her, he tossed a large bronze shield for the hellhound like it was a frisbee.

The crates shook. They said something, but I was having a hard time reading the words due to my dyslexia.

“What’s Triple G Ranch?” Percy asked.

“A little surprise,” Quintus said. “Training activity for tomorrow night. You’ll love it.”

Along the bottom, I managed to make out a few sentences- a warning label, in all caps: OPEN WITH CARE. TRIPLE G RANCH IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR PROPERTY DAMAGE, MAIMING, OR EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL DEATHS.

“Sounds awesome,” I said.

Quintus threw the shield again, and Mrs. O’Leary bounded after it. “You young ones need more challenges. They didn’t have camps like this when I was a boy.”

“You- you’re a half-blood?” Percy asked in surprise. I was, too. I’ve never met an adult demigod before. I didn’t think my sister really counted.

Quintus just chuckled. “Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies.”

“You know about my prophecy?”

“I’ve heard a few things.”

I wanted to ask what few things, but then I heard a clip-clop, and I turned to see Chiron step into the arena. “Percy, Zia, there you are! I see you’ve met our new instructor.” Chiron sounded casual, but I could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “Quintus, do you mind if I borrow Zia and Percy?”

“Not at all, Master Chiron.”

“No need to call me ‘Master’,” Chiron said, though he sounded pleased. “Come, both of you. We have much to discuss.”

“Well, see you,” Percy said to Quintus.

“See you later,” I said. I turned to Mrs. O’Leary, smiling and using the same tone I used for my little niece. “And bye, baby girl.”

As we walked away, Percy said to me, “I love how you barely talked to the human at all, but talked to the hellhound like she was Amara.”

I shrugged. “She was adorable,” I countered simply.

He smiled, then turned to Chiron, his expression becoming more serious. “Quintus seems kind of-”

“Mysterious?” Chiron supplied. “Hard to read?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah.”

Chiron nodded. “A very qualified half-blood. Excellent swordsman. I just wish I understood…”

He trailed off, apparently thinking better of saying whatever he was about to say. “First things first, Percy. Annabeth told me you met some empousai.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. He told Chiron about the two empousai he fought at Goode, and how one of them, Kelli, had burst into flames.

“Mm,” Chiron said, considering everything Percy had told us. “The more powerful ones can do that. She did not die, Percy. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring.”

“What were they doing there?” Percy asked. “Waiting for me?”

You know, High School Musical really gave you unrealistic expectations about high school. Troy and Gabriella weren’t exactly fighting monsters in between musical numbers.

“Possibly,” Chiron frowned.

“It’s amazing you survived,” I said, thinking again of my father. “They’re wonderful at deception. Any male hero would’ve been devoured.”

“I would’ve been,” Percy admitted. “Except for Rachel.”

Chiron nodded. “Ironic to be saved by a mortal, yet we owe her a debt. What the empousa said about an attack on camp- we must speak of this further. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there.”

“Where?” I asked, gladly taking the change of subject.

“At his formal hearing,” Chiron said grimly. “The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting now to decide his fate.”

____________

Chiron said that we needed to hurry, so Percy and I rode on his back. I thought I knew the woods pretty well after living at camp for four years, but Chiron took us an unfamiliar way. We galloped through a tunnel of old willow trees, past a waterfall, and into a glade blanketed with wildflowers.

Three satyrs were seated on rose bush thrones in a circle, with Grover standing nervously in the middle, telling them a story. I figured that this must be the Council of Cloven Elders.

Standing off to the side was Clarisse and Annabeth, who had an arm around Juniper, a dryad, and Grover’s girlfriend. I had met her once when I came back to camp during the spring for the project me, Clarisse, and Annabeth were working on. I liked her a lot.

“It’s going terribly,” Juniper sniffled.

“No, no,” Annabeth reassured her. “He’ll be fine, Juniper.”

“Grover’s girlfriend,” I whispered in Percy’s ear, and he looked at me in surprise.

“Master Underwood!” One of the council members shouted, interrupting Grover. “Do you seriously expect us to believe this?”

“B-but Silenus,” Grover stammered. “It’s the truth!”

Silenus turned to his colleagues and muttered something. Chiron stepped up to them, and I remembered that he was an honorary member of the council.

“Master Underwood,” Silenus continued, “for six months- six months- we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak.”

“But I did!” Grover insisted.

“Impudence!” Exclaimed another elder.

“Now, Maron,” Chiron said in an attempt to calm the group. “Patience.”

“Patience, indeed!” Maron said. “I’ve had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to… to him.”

I raised my eyebrows, ready to go over there and knock the horns off their entitled heads, when Juniper bravely stepped forward, looking like she wanted to beat them up herself. Annabeth and Clarisse held her back.

“Wrong fight, girlie,” Clarisse muttered. “Wait.”

“For six months,” Silenus continued, “we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher’s license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?”

“I just need more time,” Grover pleaded.

“Nothing!” The third elder chimed. “You have found nothing.”

“But, Leneus-”

Silenus raised his hand, silencing him. Chiron leaned in and muttered something to the group. The council didn’t look happy, and argued amongst themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed and nodded reluctantly.

“Master Underwood,” Silenus said, “we will give you one more chance.”

Grover brightened, and I smiled. “Thank you!” He said.

“One more week.”

The smile dropped off my face. “What?” Grover exclaimed. “But sir! That’s impossible!”

“One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something suited to your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing.”

I narrowed my eyes in anger.

“But, sir, I- I can’t lose my searcher’s license,” Grover stammered. “My whole life-”

“This meeting of the council is adjourned,” Silenus interrupted, ignoring Grover. “And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!”

He clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs stepped out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other stuff satyrs liked. While the council ate, Grover walked toward us, dejected.

“Hey, guys,” he said sadly. “That went well, huh?”

“Want me to fight those guys for you?” I asked. “Because they seem to suck, and I will totally fight those guys for you.”

“Those old goats!” Juniper exclaimed. “Oh, Grover, they don’t know how hard you’ve tried!”

“There is another option,” Clarisse said darkly.

“No. No,” Juniper immediately protested, shaking her head. “Grover, I won’t let you.”

His face was ashen. “I- I’ll have to think about it. But we don’t even know where to look.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured him, knowing what Clarisse meant. “We’ll find something.”

“What are you talking about?” Percy asked, confused.

Before anyone could explain, the conch horn sounded.

“I’ll fill you in later, Percy,” Annabeth said. “We’d better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting.”

____________

I walked quickly toward the Aphrodite cabin, where I was senior counselor- well, half the time, anyway. Since I had been at camp longer than anyone in cabin ten, I was the official head counselor after my sister left. But since I lived away from camp during the school year, my older sister Silena Beauregard took over.

“Hi!” I called, grinning as soon as I saw her. She was straightening her bunk, and overseeing the rest of the cabin cleanup in preparation for cabin inspection in a few minutes.

“Hey!” Silena greeted happily, placing her inspection scroll and pen to the side to hug me. “I thought you weren’t getting here until tomorrow.”

“Little thing with Percy,” I said, pulling away. “It’s fine- I’m happy to be here.” I looked around the cabin. “The place looks great.”

It was true. My siblings were normally neat-freaks, and honestly, so was I, so our cabin always looked nice. I turned back to Silena. “You’re doing a good job.”

For a split second, she looked pained. But when I blinked, she was smiling brightly, so I must have imagined it. “Thanks. Hey, how’s Nisha? And Amara?”

“They’re doing great,” I said. “Amara’s growing like a weed.”

“Hey, Silena?” A timid voice called. I turned to see a young girl with braces and pigtails step hesitantly up to us. “Where are the trash bags kept?”

Silena reached out, grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her closer to us. “Oh, Lacy, I want you to meet Zia Banerjee, our sister, and senior counselor in the summers. Zia, this is Lacy. She got here a few weeks ago. Mitchell found her on his way to camp.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” I smiled, holding my hand out for Lacy to shake. She shook it, smiling shyly, then turned back to Silena.

“Trash bags are in the bathroom, under the sink,” Silena said. Lacy nodded and scampered off.

“Okay, she’s adorable,” I told my sister.

“I know, right?” She agreed. “Really shy, though. She’s practically imprinted on me, and Mitchell.” Mitchell was one of our half-brothers, and a year younger than me.

I laughed. “Well, we’ll get her out of her shell soon enough,” I said, and Silena laughed.

“I should go,” she said, picking up her scroll and pen. “Inspection is starting. I’ll see you in a little while, for dinner.”

I nodded, and Silena stepped toward the door. “Hey, Silena,” I called, turning to face her before she walked out.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“What do you know about Quintus?”

Her expression darkened. “I don’t know much,” she answered. “But I know his presence probably means something bad is going to happen.”

____________

After inspection was over- cabin ten did very well- I decided to head down to the strawberry fields with my guitar and song notebook. I was a few measures into the song I had been working on when a voice called out from behind me, “Writing a song about me?”

I jumped, stopping my music and turning to see Ethan Nakamura standing behind the bench. I grinned, leaping up and placing my guitar back in its case. “Hi!” I exclaimed happily.

Ethan was one of my best friends at camp besides Percy and Annabeth. He had gotten to camp a few weeks after I had, and I was tasked with showing him around. He was also from California, from San Francisco, and we hit it off immediately. He was a year older than me, and practically my big brother. He was claimed by Nemesis soon after getting to camp, but since Nemesis didn’t have a cabin, he stayed in the Hermes cabin.

We hugged quickly, then did a complicated handshake we came up with a few years ago. No one else knows it.

“How are you?” Ethan asked, both of us sitting down on the bench.

“I’m good, I just got here a few hours ago,” I answered. “I actually just went to Grover’s hearing.”

“How did it go?” At the look on my face, Ethan guessed, “Not good?”

“Not good,” I confirmed. “They gave him one more week before they take his searcher’s license away.”

“One more week?” Ethan asked. “To find a god that’s been missing for thousands of years?” I nodded, and Ethan whistled quietly. “Wow. What’s Grover going to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Annabeth has been trying to convince him to try something we’ve been working on with Clarisse all spring, but no luck. But if he only has a week, then this might be his only option.”

“What is it?”

I sighed. “I can’t say just yet. Chiron knows, and he asked me, Annabeth, and Clarisse not to share it with anyone.”

“Not even your best friend?” Ethan asked. His offense was probably a joke, but I couldn’t tell.

“No,” I said, nervously fingering my locket charm. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no, I’m just joking,” Ethan assured me quickly. “You don’t have to tell me if you can’t.”

I relaxed, moving my hand back down to my lap.

“Hey, so how’s Nisha and Amara?” Ethan asked, changing the subject.

“They’re good,” I smiled. “You wouldn’t believe how big Amara’s gotten.”

He must have noticed something in my expression, because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.” He gave me a look and I sighed. “I just- I’m worried about them. I mean, I know that Nisha is more than capable of protecting herself, and Amara, but- Luke is still out there. And he knows that Amara exists, and I’m just worried he’s going to use her to his advantage or something.”

Once, Luke had said he still had friends at camp, and I had realized he probably had spies here, people who had left camp to join his army. I didn’t think there were any spies at camp now. From them, he found out about Amara, his daughter with my sister. She hadn’t told him about her, worried he would try to use the toddler somehow in the war, but he found out anyway.

“They’ll be fine,” Ethan assured me. “Like you said, Nisha can protect herself, and her daughter. And if something does happen, they can come to camp, and we’ll protect them here. Luke is not going to hurt either of them.”

He shakes his head angrily.

“What?” I asked.

Ethan sighed. “It’s just- I hate that the gods won’t protect them. Amara’s a baby, and do you see Aphrodite or Hermes- her grandparents- coming to help? No. They’re gods; they should be doing something.”

“They can’t,” I said, confused at Ethan’s anger. I knew that sometimes he got annoyed with the gods, especially lately, with the war brewing, but I never knew him to be angry. “They can’t interfere. Besides, it’ll be fine. Like you said, Nisha can protect Amara just fine.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Yeah, I know.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Anyway, did you meet Quintus yet? What do you think is in those crates for tomorrow night?”

I let him change the subject to camp training sessions, happily talking about Mrs. O’Leary, and what would be served for dinner tonight, and anything else besides Luke and the gods and the war.

But, still, in the back of my mind, I wondered at his tone.

____________

That night, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I slept well. I entered the dream world pretty quickly.

See, most demigod dreams weren’t like dreams mortals typically had. We could see events happening in the present, in a different place. We could see events that are about to happen.

Or, sometimes, we could travel back into the past.

I was wandering the woods, not wanting to run into any monsters, but just to look for a quiet place to play my music. I was working on a song that I didn’t want anyone to hear just yet. I walked over rocks as stepping stones, balanced on fallen trees, and splashed through ponds. I was lost in thought. I hadn’t realized how far into the woods I had gone until I heard voices.

“… The heck with laurel wreaths,” a voice was saying. It was rough, and familiar- Luke. I slowed down, something telling me to stay quiet and out of sight.

“I’m not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic,” Luke continued.

“You make it sound like you’re leaving,” another voice said. Percy.

I quietly set down my guitar case, and peered around a tree to see Luke wearing a twisted smile. “Oh, I’m leaving all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say goodbye.”

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Percy’s feet, and out crawled a small creature. A scorpion. My eyes widened.

Percy immediately went for his pen, but Luke stopped him. “I wouldn’t,” he said. “Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds.”

Percy stared, incredulous. “Luke, what-” He paused. “You.”

What?

Luke stood calmly, brushing off his jeans. The scorpion ignored him. It kept its eyes on Percy as it crawled onto his shoe.

“I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy,” Luke said. “Didn’t you feel it- the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn’t you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics, being pawns of the gods. They should’ve been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they’ve hung on, thanks to us half-bloods.”

What was Luke doing?

“Luke…” Percy managed. “You’re talking about our parents.”

Luke laughed. “Is that supposed to make me love them?” He asked. “Their precious ‘Western Civilization’ is a disease, Percy. It’s killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest.”

“You’re as crazy as Ares.”

“Ares was a fool,” Luke spat. “He never realized the true master he was serving. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I’m afraid you won’t live that long.”

The scorpion crawled onto Percy’s leg.

“Kronos,” Percy said. “That’s who you serve.”

The air seemed to get colder when Percy said that name.

“You should be careful with names,” Luke said.

“Kronos got you to steal the master bolt and the helm,” Percy continued. “He spoke to you in your dreams.”

“He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should’ve listened.”

“He’s brainwashing you, Luke,” Percy insisted.

Luke shook his head. “You’re wrong. He showed me that my talents are being wasted. You know what my quest was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and return it to Olympus. After all the training I’d done, that was the best he could think up.”

“That’s not an easy quest. Hercules did it.”

“Exactly. What’s the glory in repeating what others have done? All the gods know how to do is replay their past. My heart wasn’t in it. The dragon in the garden gave me this-” he pointed angrily at his scar “-and when I came back, all I got was pity. Even from Nisha. I wanted to pull Olympus down stone by stone right then, but I bided my time. I began to dream of Kronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever had the courage to take. When we went on that winter-solstice field trip, while Nisha and the others were asleep, I snuck into the throne room and took Zeus’ master bolt right from his chair. Hades’ helm of darkness, too. You wouldn’t believe how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they’d discovered my theft.”

The scorpion was sitting on Percy’s knee now. I could barely breathe. All of this- it was too much.

“So why didn’t you bring the items to Kronos?” Percy asked, bringing me back.

“I… I got overconfident,” Luke admitted. “Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt- Artemis, Apollo, my father, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn’t careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Kronos’ voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares’ head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone had noticed my absence.” He drew his sword- but it wasn’t his sword. This one was different, one side celestial bronze, the other steel. Why did he get a new sword? “Afterward, the Lord of the Titans… h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way- from Ares down to Tartarus.”

“You summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest,” Percy realized.

“We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn’t safe for you, so he would start you on your quest,” Luke confirmed. “We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked.”

“The flying shoes were cursed,” Percy said. “They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus.”

“And they would have, if you’d been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn’t part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse.”

My mind was reeling, trying to process everything Luke was saying. What had happened to my big brother?

Luke looked down at the scorpion, which was now on Percy’s thigh. “You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don’t worry. I’ll leave you with my little friend to set things right.”

“Thalia gave her life to save you!” Percy said. “And this is how you repay her?”

“Don’t speak of Thalia!” Luke shouted. “The gods let her die! That’s one of the many things they will pay for. I remember seeing Nisha after that empousa killed her father. She was devastated, but she had to be strong. Zia… she was wrecked, and Nisha was forced to step up and raise her. The girls were destroyed, and Aphrodite, their mother, wasn't there for either one. She should have been.”

That was the breaking point. I drew my sword, stepping out from behind the trees. “What are you doing?” I demanded, drawing both Luke and Percy’s attention. My eyes were on Luke as I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “What- you made us go through- I- I trusted you!” I couldn’t stop stammering, my mind going a mile a minute. “I loved you- Nisha loved you. You were my hero!” I shook my head. “Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Zia,” Luke said. “You have enough trouble understanding the little details, let alone the big picture, of anything you encounter. I don’t expect you to understand my reasons.”

My eyes stung. Never- not once- has Luke ever spoken to me like that. He had been dating Nisha for two years before we met, and he immediately took me under his wing. With my autism, I always had to try hard to come across as socially competent. My jokes tended to land wrong, I had a difficult time registering social cues, and I info-dumped a lot. But Luke never cared about any of that. He helped Nisha raise me since the moment I got to camp. I couldn’t believe he would use that to insult me now.

“What has your mother ever done for you, Zia?” Luke continued. “Kronos will rise. You two have only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest- the ones who serve him.”

“You won’t get away with this,” I vowed, forcing my voice to be stronger.

Luke tilted his head, smirking. “Oh, Zia. I already have. Good-bye, both of you. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won’t be part of it. I would ask you to tell Nisha good-bye for me, but neither of you will be able to make it back to camp.”

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged at Percy. I jerked forward instinctively, and swatted it away from him with my hand. Percy uncapped his sword and swung at the scorpion as it jumped at me, cutting it in half in midair.

I thought that everything was fine until I looked down at my hand. The back of it, where I had hit the scorpion, had a huge red welt, oozing and smoking yellow. The thing had gotten me.

My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. I stumbled, almost collapsed. I barely registered arms around me, holding me up, someone calling my name.

My vision was getting dark.

‘Sixty seconds’ Luke had said.

I had to get to camp. Percy was holding me, shouting for help, dragging me toward camp.

I felt something wrap their hands around my arms, removing me from Percy’s, tugging me toward camp.

I made it to the clearing, where I recognized my sister’s face, her screaming, a centaur blowing a conch horn.

Then everything went black.

____________

I bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. I was sweaty. I felt something wet on my face, and I reached up and realized I was crying. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Four in the morning.

Everyone in the Aphrodite cabin was sleeping. The girl on the top bunk above me, Emily, was snoring lightly. The new girl, Lacy, turned over in her sleep.

I looked down at my hand. I couldn’t see it in the dark, but there was a scar there, from that scorpion. Even the ambrosia and nectar the Apollo cabin gave me couldn’t heal the scar, a vivid reminder of that horrible day.

I remembered how much I missed Luke in the days after his betrayal. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but I did. Before that day, I had a big brother. I was sure of my place in the world, I was happy.

Now, everything was so uncertain, and I didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

#rise up #zia banerjee #teen wolf #teen wolf oc #pjo #pjo ocs

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ellewritesathing · 5 years ago

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So Close - S.S. XI

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Prologue - S2E1 Part 1 - S2E2 + S2E3 Part 2 - S2E4 + S2E5 + S2E6 Part 3 - S2E7 +S2E8 Part 4 - S2E9 + S2E10 Part 5 - S2E11 + S2E12 Part 6 Part 7 - S3AE1 Part 8 - S3AE2 + S3AE3 Part 9 - S3AE4 Part 10 - S3AE5 + S3AE6 Part 11 - S3AE7 + S3AE8

Word-count: 4.6k+

A/N: Guess who’s been working on fics instead of doing their planning for preptober!! Anyway, hope you guys like it :) feedback is always appreciated

You got together with Scott and Stiles to have dinner and talk things over. Things had been a quiet type of different since getting back from the cross country meet, but it was difficult enough to talk about without all the other alpha-and-darach-related things going on as well.

“At least Derek’s alive,” you said after a while, cracking open your fortune cookie as you did.

“Yeah, well Derek’s never been a real help to us so forgive me if I’m not jumping for joy,” Stiles said. He reached out and snatched the fortune out of your hand. “‘Exciting times lie ahead.’ Hey, these really are accurate!”

You rolled your eyes and stood to clear the plates. Scott took Melissa’s food out of the fridge and then the three of you piled into the Jeep to take it to her at the hospital. You waited with Stiles in the car and the two of you talked about Scott. He seemed to be doing better, but it was no secret that he was still stressed.

You stopped mid-analysis when you saw Scott storming out of the hospital with Ethan right behind him. “Uh oh,” you hummed as you opened your door. “This isn’t gonna end well.”

Before you could get to them, a car crashed into one of the parked cars on your right. You looked at Scott for a second before the three of you ran over to see if the driver was okay - Stiles running a few feet behind because ‘the damn door wouldn’t open.’ When you got there, you found the car empty. Another sacrifice.

Ethan left before the cops got there, so you, Scott, Stiles, and Melissa tried to explain what happened to Noah - Dr. Hilyard was the one whose car crashed in the parking lot, and the ER Attending was the one that never even made it in - but he was having a hard time focusing with all of you speaking at once. Eventually, he just sighed and held up a hand in defeat.

“Let me just focus on getting your story first, alright?” Noah said to your mom. Melissa nodded. “Kids, give us a second.”

Stiles started complaining, but you and Scott each took an arm and walked a few feet away. You took a breath and crossed your arms over your chest before speaking. “So we all agree that these two are definitely sacrifices, right?” you asked. “I mean cars don’t just drive themselves.”

“Or crash themselves,” Scott said with a sigh. He put his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, it’s gotta be one that Deaton mentioned: Healers,” Stiles said.

“But what about Danny? He threw up mistletoe. That’s not a coincidence.” Scott shook his head. “And if he hadn’t been with Ethan, he probably would’ve died. Danny’s not a healer.”

“Yeah, Danny’s a lot of things but-”

“Can you hear that?” Stiles asked Scott, tilting his head in the direction of your parents. When he saw the look you were giving him for interrupting, he mumbled an apology and squeezed your arm.

“Well?” you asked, decidedly on Stiles’ side.

“They found a body,” Scott said looking more haunted with every word.

---

You stayed with Melissa until her shift ended, drove home with her, and didn’t leave her alone until it was time to say goodnight. You didn’t explain that your clinginess was because you thought some crazy ex-druid was going to kidnap her and ritually kill her, instead opting for an excuse that vaguely sounded like: ‘Scott didn’t want to share his room with Isaac and I don’t want to sleep next to him.’

You actually slept pretty well, given the circumstances, but Melissa’s sudden movement woke you up. You grabbed your knife as you asked what was wrong.

She shook her head. “Look at them.” She pointed to where Scott and Isaac laid (passed out on the chair and asleep on the floor, respectively). “Boys! What do you think you’re doing?”

The two of them jumped to their feet, but they were still clearly half-asleep and very surprised that Melissa got the drop on them. She raised an eyebrow while they stammered out their explanation and you laughed.

“Uh, we were watching over you,” Isaac explained, looking at Scott for backup.

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t the third sacrifice,” Scott agreed, nodding slightly.

You frowned, shifting closer to hug Melissa from behind. “But you were both asleep?”

Scott turned to Isaac and they argued over who was on watch last.

You rolled your eyes and kissed your mom’s cheek before rolling out of bed. By the time you were standing and stretching, they finally decided that Isaac was on watch last.

“My heroes,” Melissa laughed. “Wait, didn’t you say that they were all doctors? I mean, I haven’t had an MD recently attached to the end of my name so I think I’m in the clear.”

“A healer doesn’t have to be someone with a degree,” you yawned.

“And you were definitely a healer last night,” Scott said.

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna be anyone’s human sacrifice today, so all three of you need to get your butts to school.”

You gave your mom a mock salute on your way out, dragging Isaac and Scott behind you.

---

During the change of periods, you saw Scott and Stiles rushing towards the parking lot. You followed them and caught Stiles by the arm. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Deaton’s been taken. I’m going with Scott to-” The two of you watched as Scott sped past on the bike and Stiles sighed. “And clearly, we’re not carpooling anymore.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” you asked.

“Nah. Just do me a favor and tell the others?”

You nodded and watched him push open the doors to follow Scott and took a breath before going to find your friends. Isaac and Boyd were on their way out to help Derek, Allison was more worried about Scott than Deaton when she heard the news, and Lydia was nowhere to be seen. You saw Aiden when the fire alarm went off and you asked if he’d seen her. He told you to check Coach’s office.

When you got there, you found Lydia and Cora in the middle of an argument. Cora was gripping Lydia's forearm and Lydia was telling her to let go.

“Hey, you guys okay here?” you asked, closing the distance between you and then. You’d barely spoken to Cora since her mysterious arrival, but you thought that she respected you at the very least.

“We’re fine,” she told you, dropping Lydia’s arm.

Lydia rubbed her arm with a frown on her face before looking up to snap at her, ‘If that’s your definition of fine-”

“There you are!”

You heard Stiles before you saw him. The three of you stopped arguing to look at him.

“Well, don't just stare at me. Come on, we've got work to do.”

He didn’t elaborate on what he meant by having work to do, but the three of you followed him to the empty chemistry classroom nonetheless. When he was sure you were alone, he pulled out an ouija board.

“Seriously?” you asked.

“It’s worth a shot,” Stiles said, unpacking the board.

“A shot in the dark,” Lydia mumbled. She ignored the look Stiles gave her.

“Could you just try it, please? Okay? Let’s not forget who this is for: Scott’s boss, the guy who has saved our collective asses on more than one occasion,” he said.

Stiles was already frustrated, and combined with the mood Lydia was in and Cora’s general demeanor, this was going to be a fun little experiment.

“Oh, wait, should we all do this?” Cora asked.

Stiles thought you should, so you all placed your hands on the pointer and waited for something to happen. He asked where Deaton was, and when nothing happened you all looked over at Lydia carefully. She asked what you were staring at.

“It’s just… Lyd, aren’t you gonna do something?” you asked gently.

“Oh, I don’t know the answer,” she told you. She pulled away. “I thought we were asking some sort of spirit?”

“Well, do you know any spirits?” Cora asked.

Lydia paused, taking a moment to frown at both you and Stiles before asking, “Is she for real?”

Stiles was getting increasingly frustrated so you suggested a new method before someone started yelling. He dangled Deaton’s keys in the air and asked Lydia to try and feel out his location with them. To which Lydia argued that she wasn’t a psychic, and Stiles yelled that she was something. You groaned and rubbed your head, sensing Cora making similar annoyed movements on your left.

When psychometry didn’t yield results, you moved onto automatic writing. This was more of a psychological tool than a supernatural one, but it was another way of trying to find Deaton so you gave it a shot. You peered over Lydia’s shoulder and watched as she started drawing a tree.

“Lydia, you’re supposed to be writing words. Like in sentences. Something like a location.” Stiles was almost ready to start yelling again. “Something that would maybe tell us where he is!”

“Well, maybe you should’ve said that,” Lydia said defensively.

“Isn’t she supposed to be some kind of genius?” Cora asked you in a disbelieving tone.

“Lydia’s the smartest person I know,” you said carefully. “But there isn’t really a Divination For Dummies handbook that we can use, so maybe you guys could cut her some slack.”

“Some slack?” Stiles repeated. “Y/N, Deaton is missing. Taken. Morrell told us that Lydia’s our only chance at finding him and you want us to cut her some slack?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know why you’re bothering with me anyway,” Lydia said before you could argue with him. “I mean, especially since it’s obvious you should be talking to Danny.”

“What? Why Danny?” Stiles asked, immediately dropping his defensive attitude.

“Because-” Scott came in, holding his left shoulder “-Last night, he was a target, but it wasn’t a sacrifice.”

“Isn’t Danny still in the hospital?” Cora asked. The bell had rung so you were all following Scott into the hallway.

“Yeah, that’s where we’re going right now,” Stiles answered.

“I’ll meet you there,” Scott said.

You asked why and he showed you a text from Allison saying that she found something. You shrugged and walked with him to the parking lot before you, Cora, Lydia, and Stiles all crammed into his Jeep. Stiles insisted on going in alone so the three of you had some more painfully awkward bonding time in the car.

“I haven’t heard from Boyd and Isaac in a while,” you said eventually. “I hope their plan is working.”

“Derek won’t let anything happen to them,” Cora said. Maybe it was just the light but you could’ve sworn she smiled at you. Was she trying to comfort you?

“Yeah, I know.” You reached for her hand and she tensed, so you dropped it.

“Although this heart to heart is comforting,” Lydia said from the front. “Stiles is coming back and he’s on the phone. You mind putting those werewolf powers to use and telling me what he says?”

Cora told you that Danny was doing a project on telluric currents running through Beacon Hills. They wanted yo guys to meet up with Scott at the animal clinic to discuss it and then try to find Deaton.

“So telluric currents are geomagnetic fields that flow through the earth. They can even be affected by lunar phases,” Stiles recapped.

“They’re like ley lines,” you said. “You know, what druids used to organize pilgrimage and their sacred sites.”

“Yeah, but now look at this.” Stiles flipped open Danny’s homework and pointed to the words scribbled in red in the top right corner. “This is a note from Harris on Danny’s proposal.”

“I strongly advise you to choose another subject,” Lydia read, “The ideas here, while innovative and thoughtful, border on pseudoscience. Not suitable for class.”

“Harris wasn’t just a sacrifice. He knew something,” Scott said.

“Yeah, now check this out,” Stiles said, unfolding Danny’s map that he marked the currents on. You overlayed Chris’ map and Stiles copied the markings. The bodies were found directly on top of telluric currents.

“Stop.” Cora reached out for Stiles’ hand and moved it over to Beacon Hills First National Bank. “He’s in the vault. He’s in the same vault.”

Everyone started scrambling but Cora wasn’t moving. You yelled at them to wait but they weren’t listening. Cora looked up from her phone and she seemed scared.

“It’s Boyd,” she said. “The plan didn’t work. They cut the power.”

“It’s just like he said.” Scott’s voice was soft as he spoke, but then he was forceful. “Go. I can save Deaton myself.

“What? Scott, what about us?” Stiles asked.

“Derek needs all the help he can get,” you argued. “And Cora’s fast but she won’t make it there on foot.”

“Go! We can save both of them,” Scott said, turning to leave. The rest of you ran to and piled into the Jeep again.

---

When you got there, Stiles, Cora, and Lydia ran to the maintenance hallway but you darted to the elevator. Stiles tried to catch your arm but you were too fast for him. You slammed the buttons and looked over your shoulder. Stiles was still right behind you.

“Go switch the power on! They need me,” you told him.

“Y/N, you’re-”

“Tell Isaac when you switch the power on.”

Stiles was still arguing with you when the elevator doors closed. You felt like an idiot standing there, waiting to get to the right floor, but you knew you couldn’t run up all the stairs and make it there in time.

When you got there, Kali had impaled Boyd on Derek’s claws and the twins were holding Derek in place. They were killing him. You ran forward, needing to do something - anything - but stopped when Isaac gripped your wrist so tightly that you had to fight the urge to cry out. Kali and the twins walked out, and you made sure to make eye contact with all of them. They would pay for this.

Derek was trying his best to keep Boyd alive, but you knew you were watching him die. It felt like someone was ripping your heart out of your chest as you watched him slump down and fall to the ground. The sound of the water splashing around him was deafening. You ran forward, going to hold him, to make sure he wouldn’t be alone, but Cora made it there first.

She was sobbing as she leaned over him and cradled his body. You placed a hand on her back, trying to comfort her, but the gesture was hollow. So you sat in the water and wept with her. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did, but at least he was with Erica again, running through the stars and in the moonlight.

---

“Okay, so is two days like standard, then? Or are we thinking Derek’s on like some extended getaway?” Stiles asked.

Cora had just told the two of you a story about Derek and Peter when they were younger. They’d been ambushed by hunters and had to hide in a root cellar until they healed. You know, the normal response to being asked ‘where the hell is your brother? We need to talk.’

“Why do you care?” Cora asked, turning away from the window.

“Why do I care?” Stiles asked. “Hm. Let’s see: over the last few weeks, my best friend tried to kill himself, his boss nearly got ritually sacrificed, a girl that I’ve known since I was three was ritually sacrificed, Boyd was killed by alphas, I- do you want me to keep going? Because I can, alright? For like an hour.”

“Stiles, I think we get the point,” you said gently, trying to make him less hostile. He took a breath and you watched Cora walk closer to you.

“And you two think Derek can do anything about all that?” she asked.

“Well, since he’s the one everyone seems to be after, it’s more like he should do something about it,” Stiles clarified.

“Look, Derek’s not the strongest leader but he always comes through in the end. If we can find him, I really think he can fix this.” You sat down on the couch, looking to Stiles or Cora to say something.

“I don’t know,” she said eventually. “There’s something different about him now. He wasn’t like this when we knew him.”

“Then what was he like?” Stiles asked, sitting next to you.

“A lot like Scott, actually,” Peter said as he descended the staircase. “A lot like most teenagers: unbearably romantic, profoundly narcissistic, and tolerable really only to other teenagers.”

“So when you grew up, you decided to pick ‘profoundly narcissistic’ as your trait to develop?” you asked. Peter looked ready to snap at you but you shrugged as Stiles spoke.

“Wait, so what happened? What changed him?” he asked.

“Well, the same thing that changes a lot of young men… a girl.”

“You’re telling me some girl broke his little heart? That’s why Derek is the way he is?” Stiles was squirming next to you so you put an arm around him to keep still. This would go a lot smoother if one of the Hales didn’t punch him for annoying them.

“Do you remember Derek before he was an alpha, he had blue eyes?” Peter asked. “Do you know why some wolves have blue eyes.”

“Jackson had blue eyes when he turned,” you said, frowning. “But none of the others betas did. Cora doesn’t. But you- you have blue eyes.”

“I just always thought it was like a genetic thing,” Stiles said.

“If you want to know what changed Derek,” Cora ignored Stiles and looked at you as she spoke, “You need to know what changed the color of his eyes.”

---

At some point during Peter’s retelling of Derek and Paige’s epic teen romance, your group had changed positions. Stiles sat on the chair next to the table, you sat next to him on the tabletop, with your crossed leg touching Cora’s because she sat next to you on the table, and Peter was pacing or sitting or standing whenever the mood fit. You thought the story was sweet but Stiles and Cora didn’t look as enamored. Stiles just kept trying to hammer out the details and Cora looked like she was grieving for the person her brother used to be.

Peter told you about the night that the hunters ambushed them; they managed to get away but another beta wasn’t so lucky. Ennis’ beta. Ennis wanted revenge but Deucalion wanted peace … but Deucalion’s vision didn’t stop Ennis from marking the distillery wall with their symbol for vendetta.

“Man, you guys really take that ‘revenge’ thing to like a whole new level, don’t you?” Stiles asked.

“It’s not just revenge,” Cora explained. “Losing a member of your pack isn’t like losing family. It’s like you lose a limb.”

You looked down at your hands. Sometimes it still felt like Boyd’s blood was there, stuck between your fingers. You still felt Erica’s death, but at least with her you didn’t have Lady Macbeth syndrome with her.

“They wouldn’t even let him see the body.” You couldn’t tell if Peter was ignoring you, or using your emotions to bolster his story. “Said they weren’t related - Ennis didn’t have a claim to the body.”

“I don’t get it,” Cora interrupted. “What does this have to do with Derek?”

“Everything,” Peter said. “It’s never just a single moment. It’s a confluence of events. Personally, I looked at Ennis’ circumstances, and I saw a profound loss. Derek saw something different. He saw opportunity.”

You tried to hide the frown that spread across your face. “Opportunity to do what?”

“To always be with her,” Peter explained. “But the thing was, he had this constant fear. He was obsessing over it, thinking about it all night and all day, always on his mind. And I kept telling him not to do it, but every day the more he thought about turning her, the more convinced he became.” He looked up at you. “And you know teenagers. I bet he even blames me. He’s probably even convinced himself the whole thing was my idea.”

If Derek was anything like Scott, you knew he wouldn’t blame Peter for anything. He would blame himself. And Peter was the guy who killed his own niece for a shot at being an alpha, who’s to say he wouldn’t hurt an innocent girl to get Derek on his side?

---

Ennis had agreed to turn Paige as a favor for Derek and as a way to get on Talia’s good side, but he refused to back down when Derek changed his mind. It was too late anyway, Paige had already been bitten.

“So did she turn?” Cora asked.

“She should have,” Peter answered. “Most of the time, the bite takes. Most of the time.”

“When you offered it to me,�� Stiles started, “You said, ‘If it doesn’t kill you.’”

“If.” Peter’s voice was quiet and he paused for a few seconds, replaying some memory in his head, before continuing, “Some people just aren’t made for this.” He looked at you. “I remember taking her body from his arms to the woods, to a place where I knew that it would be found … Another in a long line of Beacon Hills animal attacks.”

“And what about Derek?” Cora asked. Maybe it was the light again, but you could have sworn there were tears in her eyes.

“Taking an innocent life takes something from you as well; a bit of your soul, darkening it, dimming the once brilliant, golden yellow to a cold, steel blue.” Peter looked up from where he sat and showed you all his werewolf eyes. A cold, steel blue. “Like mine.”

“Okay, so that was a lot,” Stiles said abruptly, standing up and holding a hand out to you. “Dinner?”

You blinked a few times in the moment it took you to understand what he meant. He wanted to talk about it somewhere Peter couldn’t hear. “Uh, yeah,” you said, sliding off the table to your feet. “Cora, you wanna join us?”

“Why would I-” Your back was to Peter, so you tried to mouth the words ‘to talk.’ It seemed like she got the gist because she straightened up. “Fine. But I’m not getting in that crappy Jeep again.”

“Hey, that crappy Jeep-”

“Deal,” you cut Stiles off. “We’ll meet you there?”

Cora nodded in response and you started walking away with Stiles, him mumbling about this not being a very fuel-efficient way of traveling as you left.

---

“What?” Cora asked, looking at Stiles. He’d barely touched his food since you sat down. “What’s this- this look on your face?”

“What look?” Stiles asked, seemingly recovered and shoving a handful of fries in his mouth.

“The kind of look that makes me want to punch you,” Cora said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh my god, you are so Derek’s sister.” Stiles took a slurp of his milkshake and you put a hand on Cora’s arm to keep her from lunging over the table to punch him.

“I think we just want to know what you think of Derek and Peter: The Golden Years,” you said.

“I don’t believe him,” Stiles said, setting down the shake. “It’s like … in Ms. Blake’s class we’re reading The Heart of Darkness, and it’s in first person, right? Narrated by Marlow. The thing is he’s an unreliable narrator. You know the details of it have changed just because of his perspective.”

“Well, then we heard the story from Peter’s perspective,” Cora said.

“I don’t particularly trust Peter’s perspective.” You twirled your straw around in your drink. “There’s a few things there that just don’t make sense.”

“Exactly! I don’t think we got the whole story,” Stiles said.

“So, what, are you guys just gonna ask Derek about the girl he fell in love with and then killed?” Cora asked.

“If I have to … Yeah.”

You sighed and finished your food. The story was muddled and complicated, and you needed time to think about it before any of you could make your moves - the only problem was that you didn’t have time. You looked over and saw Cora watching Stiles clear the trays so you nudged her lightly with your elbow. “Hey, how are you doing?” you asked gently.

“How am I doing?” Cora repeated slowly, sarcastically.

“Yeah, I mean you’ve been through a lot lately. Finding out you're not the only Hale, being kidnapped, Erica and Boyd…” You shrugged. “It’s a lot. How are you dealing with it?”

“Fine, I guess,” Cora mumbled.

Stiles came back and clapped his hands together to get your attention. “So, we ready to go? I gotta get you home before Melissa kills me.”

“Actually, I'm gonna take Y/N home,” Cora said, standing up. You were surprised but didn't fight it.

“Yeah, we just talked about it,” you lied. “Besides, I love you and all but I’ve really gotta spend more time with other girls.”

“And this is your top choice?” Stiles asked.

Cora glared at him and he rushed out an apology, which made you laugh. You walked around Cora and patted Stiles’ shoulder on your way out. “See you around, Stilinski.”

---

Derek’s Porsche was exactly how you remembered it: expensive and by far the nicest car you’d ever been in. You had to restrain yourself from fiddling with all the buttons and settings, but Cora’s voice drew you out of your concentration.

“I thought I was doing fine,” she said. “With the change. With everything.” She paused. “But when they killed Boyd …” She trailed off, not sure how to finish.

“It made you realize that nothing was fine,” you finished. You shook your head. “Stiles- he doesn’t get it. He’s lost a lot in his life, but he wasn’t close with them.”

“He wasn’t part of the pack like you were.” Cora’s words were simple, but you knew the weight they carried. She took a shaky breath and the car slowly picked up speed as she spoke, “That’s why he doesn’t understand the vendetta. It’s not revenge, it’s-”

“A promise that you won’t forget,” you said. “A promise to make them understand what it’s like living with an open wound.”

Cora looked at you for a second before turning back to the road. The car slowed. “Yeah.”

The rest of the drive home was quiet. You were too busy thinking about what you said and what Cora had said. You figured she was probably doing the same. And when she stopped the car in your driveway, she looked ready to say something about it. You pretended not to notice.

“You know, it drives me crazy that they’re not doing anything about it,” you said. “The sacrifices are because of the alphas. The alphas that killed Erica and just let her rot. That killed Boyd. I know we can’t kill them but-”

“I have an idea,” Cora cut you off. She looked excited but scared. “You don’t have to be a part of it but-”

“I’m in,” you said. “Whatever it is. I’m in.”

And that's how you and Cora came up with a plan to get even. It was messy and wouldn’t hurt all of them, but it was enough. Enough to quiet the rage that burned inside so that you could sleep that night.

Part 12

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles slow burn #stiles stilinksi imagine #mccall!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #so close

118 notes · View notes

josjournal · 6 years ago

Text

Sterek Valentine Week - Day 6 - Secret Admirer

Derek could smell Stiles’ mood long before he’d reached the door. A tinge of sadness, as well as his usual overthinking, was overlaid by something else he couldn’t identify. Pulling the door open before Stiles could knock, Derek barked out a laugh as the boy startled, arms pinwheeling. Derek managed to grab him and pull him upright before he fell backwards off the porch.

His laughter died when he got a good look at his friend’s face, a large bruise covered his cheekbone and a spot of blood dotted his lower lip. He realized the third emotion he’d smelled was identified as pain. Derek lifted a hand to Stiles’ chin. Under the guise of taking a better look, he pulled some of the pain, thankful he’d worn his thumbhole sweater that morning as it hid the black lines travelling up his arm. Stiles was aware of him being a werewolf, of his entire family being werewolves, but he hated when Derek used his powers on him without permission and Derek might have felt guilty about it if he wasn’t so worried.

“What happened?” he ground out. “Is this why you had to stay after school?” he continued, not letting stiles answered as he dropped his hand to his arm and dragged him inside. It was a sign of just how out of it Stiles was when he didn’t put up even a token protest.

Derek’s mother stood in the living room when he pulled Stiles over to the sofa and pushed him to sit. She held out an ice pack to Derek who took it and applied it to the side of Stiles’ face. He lowered his eyebrows, flaring his nostrils trying to discover who had done this damage.

When Stiles lifted his hand to take control of the ice pack, Derek noticed the bruising on his knuckles and felt a flare of pride. He wondered what the other guy looked like. He started to lift a hand to brush over the knuckles, but Stiles scooted away from him on the sofa, face flushing and eyes flashing dangerously.

“I’m fine,” he snapped but held the ice pack in place belying his statement. After a moment of Derek holding eye contact, Stiles looked away with a sigh. “Alright, I’m not fine, but I’ll live.” He let out an even louder sigh before throwing himself back against the sofa cushions. “I’ll live and I’ll die alone because I am unlovable!”

Derek could hear his mother laughing from where she’d escaped to the kitchen as he shook his head. “Don’t you think you’re being overdramatic?” Stiles glared at him. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“I asked Lydia to the Valentine’s Day Dance,” he said, running a hand over his mouth muffling the sound, but Derek heard it anyway.

“So did she do that or Jackson?” Derek asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Not that point,” Stiles said. “Why doesn’t anybody love me, Derek?” His friend’s voice was serious and slightly wet, the scent of salt filling the air and filling Derek’s throat.

“I love you,” Derek told him, keeping his voice light and thankful when it brought a quirk to Stiles’ lips and a low chuckle.

“I love you, too, but not what I meant,” Stiles told him.

Derek made a noise of agreement despite disagreeing because what Stiles didn’t know was that Derek did love Stiles in just the way that he had meant.

***

The next morning, Stiles was bouncing on his heels next to Derek’s Camaro when he’d opened the front door balancing two travel mugs of coffees in his hand and holding a paper bag of homemade cinnamon rolls between his teeth. “Man, Mama Hale is the best!” Stiles squealed, grabbing the bag and one of the mugs. “Thanks, Mama!” he shouted into the house and Derek heard his mother laughing again.

Once they were settled into the car and heading towards school, Derek had enough of Stiles’ fidgeting. “Who put extra sugar in your toothpaste this morning?”

“I think Lydia loves me,” Stiles said, his smile growing. “Or maybe Jackson.” He wrinkled his nose and Derek felt sick.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, hands tightening on his wheel until he felt it creak beneath his hands.

Digging into his bag, he pulled out a red gift bag, sparkling pink filler paper spilling out of the top. “I found this on the porch this morning!” He reached in and pulled out a can of Red Bull and a bottle of Motrin along with a heart shaped sucker with a piece of paper that said, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” He shook the Mortin at Derek, giving him an expectant look.

“What does that have to do with Lydia?” Derek asked.

“There’s only a few people who know that I got hurt yesterday. So, it’s either Lydia, Jackson, or the school principal.” Stiles tapped a finger as he named each person. “Lydia is really the most logical choice, but I suppose it could be Jackson.” He looked thoughtful.

“Or your father. Or my mom,” Derek suggested as he pulled into the school parking lot.

“Or you,” Stiles said, laughing and then protesting when Derek grabbed the Red Bull. “Hey!”

“You can have this or the coffee, not both,” Derek told him. “Remember the last time; you didn’t sleep for three days.”

Stiles conceded the point and chose the coffee, claiming it went better with the cinnamon rolls. “I’m going to thank Lydia,” he said as he got out of the car and smiling at Derek over the roof.

***

“She laughed in my face!” Stiles shouted as he arrived at the car at the end of the day.

Derek shook his head. “At least she didn’t punch you in the face,” he muttered. He’d seen Jackson earlier in the day, a slightly smaller bruise to match Stiles on his own face, so he’d been right in assuming that Stiles had fought back the day before.

Stiles climbed in the car, sulking and spent the ride to the house complaining again about his unlovability. By the time they said goodbye and Stiles had gone into his own house and slammed the door, Derek was reading to claw his own ears just so he could stop hearing until they’d healed.

***

Derek was surprised that Stiles wasn’t standing next to his car in the morning, as he had every morning since Derek had gotten his license. Unlocking the car, he threw his bag in the backseat while checking his phone to see if there were any messages about him not going to school, but there was nothing. Heading next door, he stepped onto the porch, but the door was pulled open before he could knock revealing the Sheriff already dressed for work.

“Morning, Derek,” he said. “Stiles is running a little late. You can wait in the kitchen if you like.”

“Have a good day, sir,” Derek called after him before going into the house and nearly running into Stiles or at least someone who looked like Stiles but muted. “You ready?”

The Stiles-like person just shrugged and grabbed his bag, following Derek out the door before locking it behind himself. They made their way to the car. Derek was climbing inside as Stiles opened his door and let out a shout. Glancing over, Derek spotted a bag similar to the one from the day before sitting on the passenger seat, a tag with Stiles’ name hanging off of it. “Did you leave your car unlocked, dude?”

“Don't’ call me ‘dude’,” Derek muttered as he watched Stiles dig through the bag out of the corner of his eye.

Stiles pulled out a heart-shaped sugar cookie on a stick. It was dipped in red chocolate and had, “You are loved,” scrawled messily on it.

“Wow,” Stiles said, smiling as he stared at the cookie before digging in the bag some more, but coming up empty. “Wish I knew who was doing this,” he said, voice sound happy despite the confused tones of his scent.

“Does it matter?” Derek asked. “Can’t you just enjoy knowing someone admires you without knowing who they are?”

Stiles gaped at him, spluttering and waving his arms before crossing them over his chest in a pout. “Just drive,” he finally said, the happiness of his tone lost in something else.

Derek listened, pulling away from the house and heading towards school, allowing Stiles to sulk in silence. It was the first time since he’d started driving them to school that the trip was completely silent the entire way, but when Derek went to get out of the car, Stiles stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What if it’s a joke?” he asked, voice quiet. “I mean, Lydia already laughed when I tried to thank her for yesterday's gift. What if Jackson or someone is waiting for me to make a fool of myself over this. I need to know who it is so I know it’s real.” His tone was pleading.

“I get it,” Derek said. “I’m pretty sure it’s not a joke, though,” he reassured him.

“Why? Can you smell who left it?” Stiles asked, eyes wide. “I was going to ask you to sniff the bag yesterday, but didn’t want to be rude.”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t smell anyone that shouldn’t have been in the car. Sorry,” he told him, climbing out of the car and ignoring Stiles’ pout.

***

The next morning was Saturday, so there was no need for Derek to get up early and yet he had risen with the sun and gone for a run. He was just returning when he spotted Stiles sitting on the Hale front porch, a familiar looking red bag in his hand, a smile on his face as he spotted Derek.

“Another one?” Stiles nodded. “What is it today?”

“Don’t know. I was waiting for you to open it,” Stiles told him as he followed Derek into his house, settling at the kitchen table as Derek tossed him a bottle of water, which he immediately dropped.

Derek drained one bottle before grabbing another and sitting across from Stiles at the table. He used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, stopping when Stiles’ scent took on a strong scent of arousal. When he dropped his shirt to check on him, he was digging in the bag and Derek wondered what in the bag could possibly have garnered that reaction.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he said, getting an embarrassed laugh from Stiles as he laid the items from the bag on the table between them.

There was a book about astronomy that Derek knew Stiles had on his Amazon wishlist, along with a box of glow-in-the-dark stars. A note taped to the top said, “If you be my stars, I’ll be your sky.” There was also a gift card for the coffee shop that he and Stiles frequented.

“Wow, your secret admirer really seems to know you,” Derek said, reaching out a finger to run over the edge of the book.

“If a person is ugly, they’re a stalker. If they’re good looking, they’re a secret admirer,” Stiles muttered as his scent turned metallic with anxiety.

Horror ran through Derek as he processed Stiles’ words. He fumbled the water he’d been sipping and it spilt across the table, thankfully Derek recovered in time to rescue Stiles’ gifts. “I’m sure it’s the latter, even if they aren’t terribly good-looking.”

Stiles studied Derek, eyes focused until they both began to squirm. “Der, do you know who my secret admirer is?”

“If I did, wouldn’t be much of a secret if I told you,” he responded, pushing to stand from the table. He tilted his head, ignoring Stiles’ dog comment from behind him. “Mom needs me to run to the store. I’ll talk to you later,” he said before disappearing out the front door, ignoring Stiles’ call of, “Dude, your mom isn’t even home!”

***

Derek didn’t talk to Stiles on Sunday, but he sat beneath his cracked bedroom window which was right across from Stiles and listened to him moving about his own bedroom. Stiles did a lot of pacing and he kept skipping songs on his iPod, never listening to any of them for more than thirty seconds before giving up and turning on his laptop.

It was around eleven o’clock at night and Derek was dozing off underneath the window when his mother came to check on him, bringing him something to eat. “You should just tell him how you feel.”

“I’ve tried and he doesn’t get it,” Derek told her, knowing he was whining but couldn’t bring himself to care enough to temper his tone. “He wants to be in love so bad and yet he believes he’s unloveable.”

“We know he’s not,” his mom responded. “Now you need to get him to see that.”

“I’m trying, but everything keeps backfiring,” Derek huffed.

“Use your words, son,” she told him before rising to her feet. “And get some sleep.”

She left the room, turning off the light she’d turned on when she’d entered. Derek was pushing himself to his feet, suddenly grateful that he’d kept the blinds closed all day when he heard Stiles’ voice. “Derek? Are you there?” He froze in place, voice caught in his throat, like the coward he was. It was a fortunate thing that Stiles as not a werewolf or he would be able to hear his heartbeat even across the yard.

The silence dragged on and just when Derek thought Stiles wasn’t going to speak again, he heard him. His voice was low, even by normal standards and Derek actually had to strain his ears to hear him. “...it were you,” was all that he heard, but before he could question, Stiles continued. “It’s so stupid, I know, but I wish it were you. I wish you were the person who loved me like that.”

Derek dropped quietly to his bed, burying his face into his pillow and allowing himself to cry as he ran Stiles’ words over and over in his head until he fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Derek didn’t want to get out of bed Monday morning, so he asked his mom to drive Stiles to school, which she did before returning home and telling Derek that Stiles had smelled sad and wouldn’t talk to her the entire ride other than a greeting and a thanks when he got out of the car. “Talk to him,” she encouraged Derek, although it sounded more like an Alpha order, so Derek got up and moving.

He arrived at school at lunchtime, checking the items he had sitting in the passenger seat. He walked to the cafeteria and spotted Stiles sitting at their usual table, stabbing his fork violently at whatever atrocity the cafeteria was serving that day. Smiling, he weaved through the crowd of students, returning greetings but never taking his eyes of Stiles.

Arriving at the table, he set down the bag and drink carrier from Stiles’ favourite diner, smiling when his head whipped up. “Curly fries?” he asked, excitedly as Derek sat down.

“Dig in,” Derek told him, waiting until his hands and face were buried in the bag before setting down the last item.

When Stiles looked up, he froze at the red bag sitting in the center of the table. As she continued to stare, Derek nudged the bag towards him. “What?”

“I heard you last night,” Derek whispered.

Stiles had been reaching for the bag but froze at Derek’s words and his gaze hardened. “If this is some kind of joke -”

Derek growled. “Never. I heard what you said and it was what I needed to hear to come forward,” he explained. “When I walk into a crowd, I’m always looking for you first. It’s been that way since my family first moved next door to you and you fell over the fence trying to get a look.”

“Derek-”

“Stop. Just please open the bag, I can’t keep talking,” he choked out.

Stiles reached into the bag, pulling out a book on werewolves that he’d seen at Deaton’s office that had gotten him a smack to the hands when he’d tried to touch it. The next item was a construction paper heart covered with glitter glue that was tacky enough to stick to his fingers and photo stuck to the center. The photo had been taken the day they’d met, the two of them covered in red kool-aid. Derek was looking at Stiles who had his head thrown back and laughing. “From this moment, I loved you,” was written beneath the photo in gel pen.

Stiles gaped at the words, his heart beating faster as his scent warmed and grew until it surrounded Derek in a feeling of safety and home and love. When their eyes met, they both broke into wide grins before Stiles was leaning over the table to press a kiss to the middle of Derek’s forehead and laughing at the way he scrunched up his nose.

“I love you, too,” Stiles responded. “Like really do.” There was no skip in his heartbeat, no lie on his lips. Just honest emotion and Derek had to get closer so he moved to sit next to Stiles instead of across from him. “And just so you know, you’re definitely not a stalker.”

Derek loved the feeling of the laughter that flowed between them as they shared their first real, yet still completely disastrous and perfectly them, kiss.

#sterekvalentineweek #sterek #sterek au #sterek fic #my writing #not a stalker

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moonlightobrien · 6 years ago

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The Worst Day - Stallison {THG}

Word Count; 4184

Warnings: swearing, semi violence (I guess.)

Characters: allison argent/stiles stilinski.

Authors Note: ohmygod! i finally finally finished the first chapter, it took me the entire day to finish this chapter. One day, and 9 hours to be exact haha. This chapter/series is dedicated to @obrjens, @mischiefandi, and every stallison stans that are out there. I’m beyond happy that this is finally written and planned out. More chapters are coming, I don’t know when the next chapter will be since I am busy with work, and editing. But, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and get some stallison feels while you are at it!

Allison’s POV

District 15.

The district of landscaping, where my people including my sister, my mom and I have to work our asses off to even get some food in our systems. Panem is divided into 15 districts, I’ve heard stories of District 13 being the ‘unknown district’ but I’ve never fully went in depth with these stories. Sometimes, I would cross over to District 14 to see different scenery instead of my own. But, today was a different day for me and the rest of the districts. It was hunger games day, the worst day of every year, where one tribute from each district is chosen to be in the hunger games until one is standing, hearing about the fallen tributes makes me sick to my stomach, my heart aches for the fallen tributes and their parents. No one deserves to be living like this, how can anyone live like this. Thinking about the hunger games, and how close the bell for the tributes to go to the Hall of Justice building terrifies me. Especially, for my family.

Caesar Fickerman, and the gamemaster himself Seneca Crane was doing a interview on how he was going to corrupt this year Hunger Games, and how this year is going to be different than the last games. “I think it’s our tradition, it comes out of a particularity painful part of our history,”

“Yes,” Caesar agreed. “But, it’s been a way we’ve been able to heal, at first it was a reminder of the rebellion, it was a price of the districts had to pay, but I think it has grown all from that, netting us all together.”

“This is your third year’s game, what defines your personal situation?”

“NO, NO,” Nicole screamed in horror, her body wrapped into my chest, and arms. “It’s okay, you were dreaming, you were dreaming,” I tried to calm her down, as I can feel her heart increase rapidly, “It was me,” Her soft cries breaks my heart, “I know, there are so many names in there, Nicole, they are not going to pick you.” Nicole whispers in my ear, which I already know what she wants me to do. Our father died in a mining accident, but when I was younger, he would sing me this song that stuck in my memory forever, I deeply deeply miss him. “Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass as soft green pillow.” Nicole and I both sang in unison.

“You remember that song, you finish it for me. I have to go.”

“Where?” Nicole curiously asked, “I just have to go, but I will be back. Love you.” I walked downstairs, wrapping my jacket around my shoulders as I can hear the cat hissing at me that Nicole found, “I still cook you,” Then, I left. My legs starts to pick up some speed, as my amber eyes starts looking around the scenery, the people, how we have to live like we are slaves. Other districts thinks this is a paradise since we are the district of landscaping, but this is definitely not paradise. My body went under the barbed wire as my feet took me to my favorite place; the woods. The woods is the most peaceful place where I can escape my thoughts about the horrifying hunger games.

I grab my bow and arrow, searching for something eatable for my family to have for dinner. I spot a deer five miles away from me, I began to pull my arrow towards my cheek, aiming correctly to shoot until the deer figured out what I was about to do, and sprint away. My feet started to follow his movements really quickly, I start to ravel some leaves in my palms crunching them letting the crumbled leaves flow in the wind, as well as grabbing a small rock popping it off my bow making the deer flee, I start to follow the deer again, this time, I got a really good aim on it; I start to pull my arrow back. “What are you going to do with that when you kill it?” Shit, I missed. “Damn you, Kira. It’s not funny.” Kira and I have been best friends since childhood, our mothers knew each other back when things in Panem was normal. “What are you going to do with a 100 pound deer, Alls.” Kira laughed. “I was going to sell it to a Peacemaker, and at least get some money out of it, since this place can’t even afford a dime to get some food in our stomachs.” The thought of food made her stomach growl begging for something to eat. “I wouldn’t sell anything to those assholes, especially since the games are coming up,” I roll my eyes, but at the same time Kira is right about those peacekeepers being assholes, our president is a evil, cruel son of a bitch. “Like, you don’t sell to any peacekeepers,” My eyes scan to Kira’s bag seeing that she had her kitsune sword, instead of her bow and arrow that gave her for her 16th birthday, I wish that Panem was back to the way it was before, yet I realized that it was never normal, it was always the same. “No, not today, did I mentioned that the hunger games were today.” I chuckled, “Well, it was the first deer I saw in a year, at least I would’ve had something for dinner, but someone had to ruin my plans.”

“You’re welcome,” A smirk slowly started to appear on her face, she grabbed a rock throwing it in the air, birds started to scatter flying upward, I start to pull my arrow near my cheek realising my arrow quickly hitting one of the birds, and laughed. “Let’s go to our favorite spot,” Kira spoked, giving me a smile. Kira and I start walking towards our favorite spot where it was a view of the mountains, Kira spotted it when we were eight years old, sometimes I would go there at night just to clear my head from everything, mostly my thoughts; how my thoughts can take over me, making me terrified of what the outcomes will be. “What if they stopped watching? It’s disgusting, watching and rooting for our favorite tributes; I can only imagine what their parents feel, seeing their kids in that area. Absolutely, cruel.”

“They won’t, Kira. You know how our president is. A absolute shithead. Sometimes, I wonder if or when our lives will be back to ours, instead of being in the hands of someone who doesn’t give a fuck about us,” Kira can hear the anger in my voice, she knows how much I hate the Capital, how much I want to destroy everyone, and everything in that place including the President. “We could do it, you know? Take off in the mountains, go somewhere else where we don’t have to deal with any of this.”

“They’re catch us, cut off our tongues, make us sit on electric chairs, or worse. I can’t even think of worse. We wouldn’t even make it five miles from here.” Kira ignored that comment, she was always the hopeful one, which I’m glad that I have as a best friend, I need some hope in my life. “No, we will get five miles, I will go that way.” She points near the mountains view, my brain actually started to put that into consideration, but it was a long shot, very impossible. “I have Nicole, and you have your sisters.”

“They can come with us,” Kira replied. “Nicole in the woods?” I replied back with sarcasm in my voice. “You’re probably right, oh my god. I almost forget,” She pulls out a little loaf of bread, my stomach instantly begged for it, “Oh my god, is this real?” My fingers immediately grabs it, I put it up to my nostrils smelling that delicious flavor of yeast and dough, it smelled so good. “It better be, it cost me a squirrel.” I ripped off a piece for her, so we can both savor it; most of the time, it’s either hunting or no food for the day which is usually the case, those are the worst days; even the littlest bits of food is worth it. “Happy Hunger Games,” Kira mocked, “And, may the odds be in your favor,” We love mocking the Capital, at least it will give us some laughter; Panem is very depressing, so a little bit of laughter makes me somewhat happier than I was before. “How many times is your name been drawn?” I asked, praying to god that it is none. “35, I guess the odds are not in my favor,” I look at her with saddened eyes, Kira is like a sister to me, and the thought of her entering the area makes my heart drop into my stomach, I can’t bear to lose another person in my life. Especially, her. “I better get going, Nicole is waiting on me, and I have to get ready for the Reaping, see you there.”

“See you there.”

The Reaping; where all the tributes from their districts all sign in, and get lined up in front of the Hall of Justice to see if their name was drawn to be forced into the Hunger Games. Some of the kids that I went to school with died in that area, and some survived. More died than others survived. It devastates me seeing little kids like Nicole’s age go into something so real, and so dangerous without proper skill training, the anger I feel everytime I see our president, it boils me to the core, makes me feel like I am on fire, and it’s scorching high nonstop. Before, I go home, I decided to go over to the Black Market to trade off something for a bag of marbles, we don’t really have that many toys or items to keep us occupied, “Here you go, girl.” My eyes scan over to this golden pin that is so beautiful, “What’s this?” I questioned. “It’s a mockingjay pin,”

“How much?”

“You keep it,” Usually, I have to buy or sometimes, beg for items for my family, which sucks but I have to do it in order to survive, “Thank you,” Then, I left heading back home.

“Mom?” Nicole always felt like our mom didn’t pay enough attention to her, it was only me. She turns around facing Nicole, “Oh, look at you. You look beautiful, better tuck in that tail, little duck.” Nicole smiled at my complaint, but I know she still feels like a outcast ever since Dad died. “I fix something for you too,” My mother spoked, her voice was breaking; she is still grieving my father, “Okay,” I replied back with a smile towards Nicole, going upstairs to take a quick bath.

I start scrubbing my toes feeling the hot water on my skin making me warm since there were months where we didn’t get any heat, and we rely on blankets to keep us from frostbite. I lift the bucket dumping the water on my face, making me wake up; focused on what is about to happen. Preparing me for the consequences and the fear of everything that is about to come. I step out of the bath bucket, walking over to my room seeing a light blue dress on my bed. My fingers eagerly grabs the dress pulling it over my body, looking at myself in the mirror until my mother comes in, putting my hair into a long braid, “Now, you look beautiful too.”

“I wish I looked like you,” Nicole said from behind, my mom had this hurt look on her face, she knows that it kills her seeing Nicole being very insecure, “Aw, no. I wish I was like you, little duck.” Then, the most terrifying sound that rattles my ears was the bell, Nicole knew what that meant. “Hey, do I want to see what I got you today?” I show her a golden pin with a bird on it, it was absolutely gorgeous in her eyes, and she smiled brightly. “It’s a mockingjay pin to protect you, as long as you hold on to it, nothing bad will ever happened to you.” I instantly pull her into a hug, our bodies colliding into each other, I can feel tears welling up into my eyes, this is the last time I’m going to see her, I have no idea what is going to happen, but I have to be strong, I have to be brave, even though right now I am scared to death.

It’s time, all of the families hug their children for the last time if they ever going to see them again; all the girls and boys hold hands with their sisters and brothers heading over to Hall of Justice, Nicole, my mother, and I started to head over there until my sister startled with fear as she sees peacekeepers, and a line of girls and boys being signed in. I tried to calm her down, “It’s okay, Nicole. It’s time to sign in, they are just going to take a little bit of blood,”

“You didn’t say-”

“I know, it doesn’t hurt much.” I put my hand on her cheeks as I see the tears flowing down her face, she was so scared, I hate it when she is in pain or scared out of her mind, it makes my heart crumble, she doesn’t deserve this; she is only a child. “Go over to the little kids section, and I will meet you there alright.”

“Next, next.” Nicole finally budge giving the peacekeeper her finger, she startled out of the shock, placing her fingerprint on the paper as the peacekeeper sees that it was actually her on the screen with green letters highlighted. It was my turn, but I was more concerned about Nicole, it did stung a little, and then the peacekeeper left me through. My amber honey eyes started to look around for Nicole, but I couldn’t find her until I see Josh who was my long time childhood friend, we haven’t seen each other in forever until now. “You okay?” He mouthed.

I nodded.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor, now before we began, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the Capital.” Yeah, what a wonderful special film, thanks Capital. “War, terrible war.” Josh mouthed, I chuckled. “War, terrible war, with those orphan and motherless child. This was the uprising that brought us our land, the country that fed them, protected them. Then came the peace, hard fought, soley won; the people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. The freedom has a cost, and the traitors were defeated. Peace, War as a nation, we would never know this treason again, and so it was decreed that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute. One young man and woman to fight to the death,” Anger raising up in my bones, it was a wildfire inside of me, a monster that wanted to be uncaged from hearing the President’s voice, my eyes looked all around to see all the kids looking up at the screen from this cruel so called special film, “And, it peg you to honor, courage and sacrifice- the lone victor will bathe in riches, will serve as our reminder of our generosity, and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past, this is how we safeguard our future.”

“I just love that,” She cheerly smiles, “Now, the time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 15 in the 78th Hunger Games, as usual, ladies first.” Effie goes over to the left bowl twirling her hand, grabbing the slip of paper, she starts unfolding it, “Nicole Argent,” She was so scared when she heard her name. No, no no. This is a nightmare, wake up, Allison. Wake up. “Where are you?” The kids start to make a pathway for her to come forward, she tucks in her little tail. “Well, come on up. Come on up.”

“Nicole, nicole.” The peacekeepers tried to hold me down, but I was fighting back; I’m not letting my sister enter the area, “No, I VOLUNTEER, I VOLUNTEER,” I pushed the peacekeepers away from me looking up straight at them, “I volunteer as tribute!” I shouted. I just couldn’t bear the thought of Nicole entering that area. “I believe we have a volunteer, um Mr.Mayor?” I immediately wrap my arms around Nicole’s body, “Nicole, you need to get out of here.”

“No! No! No!” She started shouting, “Go find Mom,” My voice was shaky, “No!”

“Nicole, go find Mom,” Tears started to flow down my eyes, “No!” She wouldn’t let go, but I had to do this, “I’m so sorry,” Josh came scooping Nicole into his arms, as I can hear the screams from Nicole, I wiped the tears away trying to be strong. “This isn’t me,” I spoked, confidently. The peacekeepers started to take me up to the stage, as my mind started to race, and my heart beating very fast as I realise that right now, my life is on my line, and if I die, it was for my district. “In mad of turn of events here on District 15, yes well, District 15 very first volunteer.”

I made it up towards the stage, I’m scared to death right now, my hands won’t stop shaking. My heart is beating really fast like I am having a panic attack, oxygen levels are increasing rapidly as the walls start to close in on me, like I can’t even breathe. I was drowning. “Come on, dear.”

“What’s your name?” She asked, pulling the microphone towards me, “Allison Argent.”

“I bet my hat that was your sister, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” My voice sounded crushed, my life is now in their hands, and that’s the most terrifying thing ever. “Let’s give a big hand to our first volunteer, Allison Argent.” It was only silence until hands with three fingers started to rise up, which means togetherness. A tear flowed down my cheek seeing how strong our district really is. “And, now for the boys.” Effie walks over to the right bowl instantly grabbing a slip of paper for the boys section, she starts unfolding it. Don’t call Josh, please don’t say his name. “Stiles Stilinski.” My eyes instantly lit up remembering that name, the peacekeepers start to bring him up to the stage, “Here we are, our tributes from District 15, well go on you two shake hands.” I look at his golden amber eyes like mine remembering that day where it was the first feeding in months.

[ FLASHBACK }

I was starving so much, there was no food in days; my body was giving up on me slowly, it was raining outside, my back against the tree as I look over at the bakery where Stiles and his mom owned, he comes out about to feed the pigs, until his mother comes out giving him a slap on the face for disobeying her; she leaves as Stiles throws a piece of bread to the pig, then he looks at me, seeing how I was on the verge of dying because of how incredibly hungry I was. He then looks back to make sure his mother doesn’t see, then throws the burned loaf of bread out into the rain.

Then, Stiles and I hands intertwined with eachother as I felt a little spark between us, I brushed it off, I can’t think about my feelings right now; all I can think about is how I’m going to survive this year’s hunger games. “Happy Hunger Games, and may be the odds be ever in your favor.” Then, the peacekeepers took Stiles and I inside of the building, my eyes started to look around seeing everything fastly, until one of the peacekeeper places me into a room, I look back at Stiles until the peacekeeper shuts the door, and I wait for my family. I look out at the window, trying to come up with a way to survive, but every obstacle or possible outcome is to kill people, the other districts, which I can’t be. I can’t be a killer. What would Nicole think of me then. I won’t be the same person I am to her. How am I going to survive this. I start pacing back and forth until I hear footsteps coming towards the door, “You have three minutes,” Nicole instantly hugged me, crying her eyes out. “Ssh, you are going to be okay, I don’t have enough time. Nicole, listen to me, don’t take any extra money for food. That doesn't worth putting your name more times. Nicole, listen to me, Josh will bring you game, he stuck cheese from your goat.”

“Just try to win as best as you can,” Her voice was shaky, as tears went down her cheeks making my heart break into pieces. “Maybe, I can. I am smart you know?”

“You can hunt.”

“Exactly,” It was hard seeing her like this, but I will protect her with my life even if I have to risk my own life, “To protect you.” She hands me the mockingjay pin, I tried to fight back the tears, I can’t be weak. I have to be strong for Nicole. “Thank you.” I tug her into one last hug giving her a kiss on her forehead, I then look over at my mother walking towards her. “You can’t shut off again.”

“I won’t.” As much as I want to believe her, I can’t risk it. She is the only person for Nicole, and when she shut down, it was frustrating yet devastating seeing her like that. “No, you can’t. I won’t be here for her, and no matter what, you have to be there for her, you understand?”

“Don’t cry,” I instantly wrapped my arms around her neck pulling her into a hug since this is the last time we are going to see each other.Tears started to form in my eyes, stop crying Allison; this isn’t you. “Don’t cry, don’t.” My voice sounded like I was going to break, but I just can’t. “It’s time,” The peacekeepers started to pull Nicole away from me, “It’s okay, Nicole.” She wouldn’t let go of my side, “No!” but the Peacekeepers pulled her off of me, “I promise, Nicole.” Then, the door was slammed shut, I slowly walked up to it, giving it a tug to open it then close. I tried to open it again, but it wouldn’t shut until Josh and Kira comes in. They both pull me in for a group hug, I can hear the soft cries from Kira, I pull away from them. “I’m fine,” In reality, I wasn’t. “I know, listen to me; you are stronger than this, you are. Get to a bow.”

“They might not one,” I was so scared, this is actually happening to me. I’ve never thought that this will happen to me, but it is. “It doesn’t matter, Allison. They just want a good show, that’s all they want; if they don’t have one, you make one.” Kira added. “They’re not animals, we are actually talking about actual humans,”

“They are no different, Allison.” How can Josh say that, I can’t do this. I can’t actually kill these human beings, I’m not like this. “There are only 24 of us, only one survives.” I started to shake filled with panic, and fear in my eyes. “It’s going to be you, Alls.” Kira hugged me really quick until the peacekeepers came in; I quickly hugged them both then the peacekeepers finally took them away from me, shutting the door in front of me. Couple of minutes, the peacekeepers takes Stiles and I towards the truck, Effie started to talk to both of us- neither of us weren’t paying attention as my thoughts started to come together on how I’m going to kill these people, and once again; survive. I shouldn’t be thinking about how to kill these people, because I don’t know if I can; my fingers started to shake again. “Allison, are you okay?” Stiles looked over seeing my shaky hands, very concerned, Effie looks over at them as well, “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine,” That’s what my outside is telling you, inside; I am absolutely terrified, and I don’t think I will ever stop being terrified. We got to the tributes train, as the door opens - my eyes were so shocked seeing all of these delicious foods in front of me. I’ve never seen so many delicious foods in front of me before. The three of us all walk in, and my eyes started to scan all around taking everything all at once. This is it.

It’s finally happening.

I’m in the hunger games.

#stallison #stiles stilinski #allison argent #stiles x allison #dylan o'brien #crystal reed #the hunger games #the hunger games series #the hunger games fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #thg imagine #teen wolf imagine

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eternalsterekrecs · 7 years ago

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can you recommend some soulmates au fics ?

Well, you should definitely start with our SOULMATES tag! After tag, check all these new recs we have for you (there are so many of them)!

SOULMATES

An Unpredictable Amount of Turtles by skoosiepants

Stiles says, “I have a five year plan. A five year plan to popularity that will tank the minute I meet this guy.”

“I feel like you’re exaggerating,” Scott says, but Scott has a katana-wielding badass waiting for him at the other end of the rainbow, and Stiles has terrariums.

Or—

A soulmate au with turtles and angst.

Honey, Can’t you See (The Bloodstains on my Teeth) by Loup_Aigre, TroubleIWant

“Mr Stilinski.” Deaton’s usually impassive face betrays a hint of surprise today, maybe even disappointment. “You haven’t changed your mind.”

Stiles tips his chin up, smiling against his irritation. “Nope,” he confirms, so cheerily it bites. They had arranged this weeks ago, yet Deaton was apparently betting Stiles wouldn’t go through with it in the end. Fuck that. He doesn’t know what it’s like out there, not really. He can afford to hold himself aloof and uninvolved, knowing his druid power is enough to keep him safe in this little office. Stiles can’t. Scott’s pack has got to protect this whole town, and Stiles’ spark isn’t enough to protect all of them while they do it.

The thing is, magic isn’t like the fairy tales. It’s blood and risk and sacrifice. Nothing comes without a price, and anyone who tries to say different is baiting a hook to gut you on. Stiles knows that, has known it since he was a kid and his mother started training him for the inevitable day when he’d need to fight for his life.

That day had come four years ago when she died, and it hasn’t stopped yet.

Of Soulmates, Pseudonyms and Misunderstandings by halcyon1993

Ever since he asked his mother one evening why she had his dad’s name tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, Derek has dreamed of finding his soulmate. There’s only one problem—the name that appears on his wrist on his eighteenth birthday is something he can’t even read.

Weave Soft Spells Over My Sight by AgnesBlue

Derek had blossomed steadily over the past year, growing into his ears and turning even more handsome, if that were possible. But instead of going out and melting the panties off the girls, suddenly he was coming to Stiles all bashed in, demanding that he patch him up like Stiles was some freelance nurse. It was a familiar pattern by now.

AU in which Stiles has been living with the Hales for a few years as their assistant and friend. He needs to deal with Derek, who keeps coming to Stiles with bruises and cuts to be treated, while trying to figure out what the elderly alpha of the Hale pack is up to.

Sometimes It Just Works by MellytheHun

“Fic where, in a fit of post-break-up, drunken depression, stiles throws together a truly pathetic love spell (really, Lydia would be so unimpressed she’d probably disband their weekly magic lessons) in an attempt to find the perfect partner.

But, like everything else in Stiles’ life (and as proof to how much joy the universe gets pulling one over on him) everything goes horribly wrong and instead of the feathery light, rose petal path he’d been expecting to appear and lead him to his true love, a half naked man with harlequin biceps and a beard that could rival most lumber jacks appears in his minimalist studio apartment looking grumpy and endearingly confused.

Cue Stiles’ imminent freak out that includes shoving the man in his hall closet because “Oh my god, I manifested a burly mountain man out of thin air!!”

When really, the spell had just transported Derek from whatever secluded cabin he’d been holed up in for the last few years right into Stiles’ life.”

all else perished by keskasi

There are only so many times a person can fall before the world becomes a vertical blur. Life, Stiles has found, is much the same way. There are only so many times a person can be born, live, and die before the epochs start to smear into one long, eternal day. Or night, as the case may be.

soulmates tbh series by bleep0bleep

Stiles is probably the world’s greatest cynic about soulmates. He couldn’t care less, except that he’s just found his.

Your Mark on my Skin by afullrevolution

Everyone had a mark scrawled somewhere across their body. A name, usually a signature to represent their soul mate, their one and only true love. Stiles has known who his mark belonged to since the third grade. He doesn’t understand how Derek can be so oblivious.

i feel you in every heartbeat by warlocks

Suddenly his entire body felt tingly and sensitive and he could swear gravity had failed on him just then; he couldn’t feel the chair he was sitting on, or where he’d planted his feet on the floor, or the clothes he was wearing, or the pen he was holding, and then his vision started blurring and morphing into a picture of some place that was not his classroom.

“Oh, shi—”

“—it,” he finished with a different voice.

Or, the AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they’re temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it’s his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

Soul-Mark by PaigeRhiann

His wolf purrs happily because it has taken eighteen years and getting his family killed to finally discover the name of his promised. The person he’s destined to be with. Or, as Werewolves call it – Mate.

“Genim S.” He repeats

“That’s a really fucking weird name” Laura snorts, turning back to the movie.

“Yeah, it is” he nods.

And I Never Thought I’d Ever Say Forever by suchfun

“That was stupid.” He bats the kid’s hands away and rearranges the items in the bag. He’s mixed canned goods and dairy, does this kid even know how to efficiently pack a bag? “The TiMER is a gift.” He says it automatically, because that’s what his mom says. That’s how he was brought up. That’s what he’s supposed to think.

He used to believe it, back when he was sixteen and idealistic, before he actually got his TiMER, back when he was so sure that his soulmate would be Paige. Back when he believed in the romcoms, in his mom’s books, in the elaborate advertisements for TiMERs—the ones with all the interviews with loving real life couples, with testimonials to their effectiveness and their ability to make you happy and fulfilled, with guarantees of an improved quality of life and even life expectancy. Back when he thought meeting his soulmate was an inevitability, not a slim possibility.

Colors by PencilTrash

Soulmates AU: When soulmates visit the same place on the same day, they can see color in the places where the other has been. It allowed you a world full of color for one single day. A day.The universe was cruel like that.It gave soulmates a single day to find each other and seal the bond between them permanently or the color would vanish forever… and so would the bond.

(im)Perfect System by theroguesgambit

Stiles has always felt pretty lucky about his soul mark. After all, how many conversations tend to start with “This is private property”?

(Apparently more than you’d think.)

Countdown by actingup

0000d 00h 00m 37s

He always imagined meeting his soul mate would take forever; that time would slow down and he would see them walking towards him, he would know without a doubt who it was. It might have been someone he’s seen before but never talked to, or it might be a complete stranger that he never would have guessed. He didn’t imagine it in front of about a hundred people, maybe two-hundred, at a Dolphin show.

Soulmate - Delayed Reaction by Verya

When a person turns eighteen their soulmates first words to them appear on the inside of their dominant wrist. Of course it had to be the week when Stiles broke his hand!

Mental Synchronization by kits_lightning

“All at once everything is different, now that I see you

Now that I see you.”

Stiles ended with jazz hands and Scott laughed and took the seat across from him.

“Keep laughing, buddy. I haven’t forgotten Isaac’s two month obsession with Taylor Swift before you two met.”

“We agreed never to bring that up again.”

~*~*~*~*~*~OR the Soulmate AU where you sing when you’re soulmate does.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) by yodasyoyo

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek’s voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don’t exist?

Second Chances by rootbeer

“A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. ‘Excuse me’; 'thank you’; 'hello’. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you’ or 'Wow you’re really pretty’. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world’ tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret.”

and i thought it only a dream by bleep0bleep

Derek only started getting the dreams a few years ago, and he knows what it means, his soulmate is younger than him. Laura teases him incessantly about it, but Derek doesn’t pay her any mind. The dreams are fuzzy at best, he only has a fleeting glimpse of plaid shirts and laughter and a pink mouth.

As Laura and he start on their roadtrip back to California from New York, the dreams start to get clearer. Every state they cross, Derek can see the outline of his soulmate get more defined, knows that he has brown eyes, a gorgeous smile and fluffy hair that looks soft to touch.

#sterek #eternalsterek #haleinski #fic rec #soulmates #asks #anonymous

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nightlight9 · 7 years ago

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Sterek Week Day One: Alpha and Emissary

Title: Marked by Fate

AO3

———

Scott gets bit by a werewolf, and Stiles drives two towns over to get his first official tattoo. When he gets back, a bandage wrapped around the upper part of his arm, his dad sighs a little like he knows what’s coming and pours his son a cup of tea. Stiles appreciates that he doesn’t ask any questions. He already has to deal with Scott ‘but-werewolves-aren’t-real’ McCall.

The thing is, Stiles already knows what’s going on with his best friend. As soon as Scott showed up at the school ranting on about being bit by a wolf, only for the mark to disappear underneath the bandage, Stiles knew what had really happened. He’s known about werewolves for a very long time. After all, his fate had been inexplicably tied to a pack of them when he was just a kid.

When he was six years old, Stiles received his emissary mark, a looping E worn like a brand on the inside of his wrist that matched his mother’s. He was younger than many emissaries are when their power awakens, younger than even his mother was when she was marked, but Claudia took it in stride, began his training, and introduced him officially to the Hales.

He knew them in passing of course, had seen Talia Hale around town and even sitting in his living room (after all, his mother had been Talia’s emissary). But he had never met her officially, emissary-in-training to alpha werewolf. And he had never really had the chance to meet her family.

Laura was introduced to him first. As the oldest Hale child, she would eventually take over as the Hale pack alpha. And while nothing had been set in stone at that point, and even though it never would have been required of him, it was expected that Stiles would become Laura’s emissary after their parents stepped down. He had liked the idea of working with the same pack as his mother, and he got along with Laura’s funny and mischievous personality. As the years wore on, Stiles spent more and more time at the Hale house in the preserve, learning about an emissary’s role in a pack, and bonding with Laura and her younger brother Derek (who he looked up to and followed around like a puppy most of the time).

But then his mother died, and the Hale family burned in a fire. Stiles pushed his training to one side to deal with his grief, Laura and Derek left Beacon Hills, and that was the end of it.

Until Scott gets bit while they’re out in the woods looking for a body.

Even though it’s been years since Stiles has even thought about emissaries and magick, years since he’s covered his mark with a red wrist band, he knows without a doubt that he’ll do anything he can to help Scott. That’s what the tattoo is for, a physical embodiment of the Spark within him. Permanently inking the phases of the moon on the inside of his upper arm feels like the first step to finally moving on. It makes him feel whole after years in a void.

And practicing magick again in the mornings before school feels so natural, like finally being able to breathe after being trapped underwater. It reminds him of his mother, but in the best of ways, and he feels ready to face anything.

What he doesn’t expect is to come face to face with Derek Hale again. He is nothing like Stiles remembers. Whereas he used to be a quiet kid with a big heart, who laughed with his head thrown back and blushed easily when teased, now Derek is all edge. There’s a sharpness to him that is unnerving, and he acts like he’s never met Stiles at all. What’s worse is that Laura doesn’t seem to be with him. Stiles doesn’t have to dig around for the body to guess that she’s gone too.

Scott doesn’t want to work with Derek to hunt down the alpha who bit him. Hell, he hardly wants to deal with being a werewolf at all. But Derek knows more than either than them about what they’re facing. And Stiles doesn’t want to leave him alone.

He starts hanging around Stiles’ house instead of staying at the burned out shell that was once his family’s home. At first he shows up under the pretense of doing research but soon enough the nights start ending with them sitting side by side on the couch or in Stiles’ bedroom, finding an unnamed comfort in each other’s presence. They don’t talk about their past, but more than once Stiles catches Derek staring at his emissary mark, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out and trace the letter in the same way he used to when they were kids. Stiles likes those nights, likes knowing that in spite of everything Derek still seems to trust him, maybe not enough to address everything that’s happened, but enough to relax around him. And to Stiles, that means something big.

The first time John comes home to see Derek sitting at his dining table, he sighs, fixes the werewolf a peanut butter sandwich, and leaves them alone with a pat on the back and a prayer to Claudia to give him strength. It’s the first time that Stiles sees Derek smile, small and genuine. It’s reckless and it doesn’t make any sense, but the next day he gets his second tattoo, keeping the mark a secret from everyone but his father. John’s eyes get sad when he sees the ink, but then he smiles like he’s so proud, and Stiles thinks that everything will be alright after all.

It’s not until after everything with Peter and Kate is finished, after Derek becomes the alpha he was never supposed to be, that he talks to Stiles about the history they share.

They’re sitting side by side on the floor of his new loft, tired from painting all day, and tired from trying to brainstorm ways to get Scott to trust Derek as his alpha.

Derek gets quietl suddenly. Stiles presses their shoulders together. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Without responding, Derek reaches out a shaking hand and pulls Stiles’ wrist into his lap. He traces his emissary mark with the tip of his finger in reverence before looking up to meet Stiles’ bewildered gaze.

“Laura always expected to come back here,” he says softly between them. “She said that Beacon Hills was our home in spite of everything that had happened. She said there were things here that were ours to care for.” He looks down again to where his finger is skating over Stiles’ skin. “I’m sorry. For acting like I didn’t remember you. I-. When I first saw you, I saw everything that we had lost, everything that I wanted to avoid thinking about. So I tried to ignore you. That wasn’t fair to you though, and I’m sorry.”

He wants to say that it’s okay, but both of them would know that would be a lie. Instead Stiles says, “I understand,” which he does. As much as he wanted Derek to recognize him, he understands why he closed himself off from everything. Especially after Laura was killed.

They sit in silence for a long moment before Derek speaks again. “I always liked this mark. I liked how it looked on your skin, liked what it stood for. One of the earliest lessons we were taught was about how special emissaries are. I remember how proud my mom was when she told us that you had been marked. Laura was excited about it too. She was excited about what it might mean for her and the pack.”

Stiles turns his hand so that his fingers tangle together with Derek’s. Resting his thumb against Derek’s wrist, Siles can feel how quickly his heart is beating. “It was what I always wanted,” he says, watching how their hands clench together. “Mom used to joke, say that that was why I received my mark so early. She said that I wished it into being.”

Derek smiles. It’s a little sad, but the small quirk of his lips is genuine. “That sounds like something you would do.”

“And I liked the idea of being Laura’s emissary.” Derek flinches a little at the statement, but Stiles barrels on. It needs to be said, especially now that Derek is the alpha, now that they’re moving forward instead of hiding away. “I wanted to be a part of the Hale pack the same way my mother was. Even though I didn’t understand everything then, I knew that that was what I wanted.”

Ducking his head, Derek sighs out an apology. “I’m sorry. For everything that happened. For leaving after the fire even though you were hurting too.”

Stiles turns into him, gently knocking their heads together until Derek looks up. “You had to go,” he says. Really, it’s always been that simple. “It wasn’t a good idea that you stayed in Beacon Hills after everything had happened. I understood that, and I was never upset at you for it.”

Derek seems to relax after Stiles says that. He ducks his head again to stare at their hands. Stiles lets the silence drag out for a moment. It’s not uncomfortable, and as much as he doesn’t want to break it, there is something else that needs to be said. “Derek. I-. There’s something I would like to show you.”

When the werewolf nods, Stiles stands up and pulls Derek to his feet. Dropping his hand, Stiles takes a step back and plays with the hem of his shirt. “I got this before we figured out that it was Peter who bit Scott. It was true then, and it’s true now.”

Before Derek can ask any questions, Stiles pulls his shirt over his head. He hears Derek gasp in surprise, then watches as he steps forward, reaching out a shaking hand to hover over the tattoo inked over Stiles’ heart.

The triskelion looks sharp against Stiles’ pale skin. Derek gives in to the urge to touch it, running his fingers over each spiral. “Stiles.” His name is breath.

“I didn’t know that you were going to end up being the alpha, but it didn’t matter. Eleven years ago I got my emissary mark and bound myself to you and Laura. I was always meant to be the Hale emissary. Even if you were only ever going to be a beta, I knew that I was bound to you all the same.”

Derek’s fingers clench uselessly against Stiles’ chest. “I was never supposed to be the alpha, Stiles. I’m not-. I don’t know how to do this.”

He shrugs, lifts his hand, and curls their fingers together again. “We’ll figure it out. Alpha, beta, omega, it’s all a cycle. At the heart of it though, the werewolf is the same.” He squeezes Derek’s fingers. “You’re the same.”

“Alpha, beta, omega.” He pauses, meets Stiles’ gaze, eyes glowing red. “Past, present, future.”

Stiles smiles, his own eyes flare purple in response. “Yes. Exactly. We’re going to figure this out, Derek. Together.”

Finally, Derek smiles, big and bright, no hesitation. There is so much between them, so much unsaid. But what matters is just this. “Together.”

It sounds like a promise.

#sterekweek2017 #sterekalphaemissary #spark stiles #emissary stiles #sterek #my writing #canon divergence/rewrite

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creativeashproductions · 7 years ago

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Ghostface Wannabe // Nolan Holloway

Summary: In your last year of high school you watch different things happen. The guidance counsellor at the beginning of the year tried to create war caused by her belief the supernatural was here. Struggling with the remaining months you take comfort in a new friend.

Characters: Nolan Holloway x Tate!Reader, Stiles Stilinski, Liam Dunbar. Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Malia Tate, Derek Hale (mentioned), Scott McCall (mentioned), and Lydia Martin (mentioned)

Words: 2251

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters that appear in this. This is an AU where the show is not supernatural but just fucked up a little. I also don’t own the gifs, images, or lyrics that may appear.

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, Monroe, angst, and fluff

Author: Caitsy.

A/N: Gotta give Nolan some love.

Master List

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

You leaned against the lockers watching the students milling around the hallways taking their time to talk to people. As a senior you were saddened that in just a few short months you would no longer be a student at Beacon Hills. You would just be another graduated Tate like your older sister Malia.

When you were a little girl Malia had been in the backseat after losing the straw game that your siblings would do. It was a trip you barely remembered at all other than Kylie angering both Malia and you. Kylie was five years old compared to you at eight years old and Malia at nine years old. It turned into a war that in turn had your mother, Evelyn, lose control at the wheel.

The car rolled into the woods down a hill sending all four of you into unconsciousness. You were the first to wake up to find your mother’s head turned back with her eyes wide open and her mouth opened in a scream. The force had been great on the old car and little five year old Kylie shouldn’t have been in the front. She was thrown out the windshield even with the seatbelt.

Malia and you were the sole survivors of the accident. You ended up making friends with a kind woman in the woods before you were tracked down. Eight years passed before the Sheriff had found a new lead. Eventually you were reunited with the man you thought was your biological father.

You weren’t biologically a Tate, in fact you were the offspring of an alcoholic man and a murderous mother. The story went that your father hooked up off and on with your biological mother thus procreating Malia and then you just a year later. Peter, your father, was arrested for manslaughter and acquitted a few years later. Your mother Corrine was the black sheep of her family and actually shot the car you were in that led to Kylie and your adoptive mom’s deaths. Your maternal biological grandparents had removed her name from their will and instead placed the children of her instead. She would inherit the money if her children died.

“Y/N. Hey!” Liam said coming up to you, “Did you get your classes?”

“I’m hesitant about meeting the guidance councillor.” You admitted, “After the psychotic bitch tried to kill everyone. Seriously what was that?”

“Apparently this guy on probation convinced her, once he tossed her medication, that the supernatural was real.”

“I heard she hallucinated in Eichen House that she had a mass of followers behind her.” You returned shaking your head.

“Liam, Gabe’s looking for you.” Mason said joining the group, “He’s still pissed you won’t step down as captain.”

 “Co-captain.” Corey corrected with an awkward smile.

“What?” You asked confused, “I thought you were captain?”  

“Some of the guys don’t agree that I should be captain because I’m not able to attend as many practices and a few games. I need to pass with all Bs and As to get into a good college. Nolan is the other captain.”  

“Why Nolan? I thought you hated him?” You questioned confused. You have never understood the reason why Liam was enemies with shy fly on the wall Nolan Holloway.

“We talked. Both agreed that we didn’t want Gabe to be the captain of the lacrosse team. Wouldn’t end well.”

“He’s a sadist.” You snorted with a roll of your eyes, “He literally almost stabbed Aaron last year, scarred him so bad he had to be homeschooled.”

“Whoa that’s why? I thought he switched schools.” Mason gawked.

“Gabe actually managed to cause him to mentally break down.” Corey said slipping his hand into Mason’s free one, “Dissociative identity disorder.”

“Damn.” You muttered shaking your head.

“Get to class.” Principal Martin said walking around the hallways that had began to get deserted.

You sent a small smile before continuing into your biology class where the new semester would give you a new partner. You wished it would be one of your friends but everyone knew that Mason and Corey would be together and Liam liked to talk to girls ever since his ex-girlfriend moved away.

“Each lab table with have an engraved plate with a name on it. Find your name and that’s your partner for the rest of the year.” Ms. Finch said taking her place at the front of the class, “A syllabus is also placed at the spot also.”

“I guess we’re partners.” Nolan said sitting at the remaining table with your name plate there. You were surprised Nolan wasn’t stuttering.

“I guess we are.” You chuckled putting your bag on the ground, “Congrats on making captain.”

 “Co-captain.” Nolan corrected you, “It’s just to appease the team.”

“But what about Gabe? Aren’t you best friends?” 

“Not really.” Nolan replied tugging on the cuff of his blue sweater in distress, “He…uh…he beat me up.”

 Your head snapped at his words before you caught sight of the faint bruise dusting his eyebrow and the tiny cut on his lip. You were surprised that Gabe didn’t leave any other bruises on the poor boy. You couldn’t believe that someone would harm such an innocent soul.

“What the hell? Did you tell a teacher?”  

“It happened at the hospital. I…uh…tried to tell a doctor that Gabe was there to harm a kid but he knew I was going to be there.”

“I can beat him up.” You grinned.

“Is that how you survived in the forest?”

“Malia cared for me.” You gently smiled thinking your older sister living the live in Paris for the time being. You knew that Scott was anxiously waiting for her to return ever since he pushed her to go traveling.

“Where is she?”  

“Paris.” You grinned, “She’d kill me if I said this but she’s a romantic at heart.”

  “Malia? The girl that was feral at times?” Nolan asked shocked. It wasn’t terribly hidden that both you and your sister and been found in more animalistic personalities.

“Yeah.” You awkwardly nodded before your attention was caught by Ms. Finch. With a glare she turned around to set out the rules of the classroom.

“Do you want to have lunch with me?” Nolan slowly asked, “Shit, never mind. Of course you wouldn’t want to.”

“Well you did stab Corey.” You bit your lip pondering if it would be a good idea to be with him.

“I apologized for that.” Nolan winced, “I was stressed about lacrosse and Corey made a stupid comment. I don’t know why I did it.”

“One lunch.” You stated, “We’ll see about any more.”

“Awesome!”  “Nolan and Y/N! Just because it’s the first day of this semester doesn’t mean your free to speak. Pay attention.” Ms. Finch snapped placing her hands on her hips. You bit your lip focusing on the paper in front of you instead of the delicious boy sitting next to you.

“Sorry.” You grumbled.

“I expect all assignments to be handed in on the due it’s due or earlier. I’ll give you three days past the due date only for excused reasons but you’ll fail if you take longer than that.” Ms. Finch said brushing her hands off.

The morning passed by rather fast with a few messages from the friends you had developed through Malia. Stiles had become your older brother even after Malia and him broke him up. It was an odd transition to not see them together and instead seeing them date other people in the group.

To: Y/N From: Stiles How’s everything in Beacon Hills? Are you safe? 

To: Stiles From: Y/N You’re annoying. Everything is okay, your Dad caught a few criminals. I don’t know why you’re concerned about this town.

You shook your head enough to make yourself dizzy which could be contributed with you being upside down the couch in the library. Out of your element you screamed when your legs were pushed over your head and you were on the ground.

 “Ow!” You exclaimed sitting up with strands of hair on your face. Liam stood there snickering to himself as he gracefully jumped over the back to sit down, “What the hell Liam?” 

“Prime opportunity Y/N.” Liam chuckled.

 “Stiles is spamming me.” You said picking up your pen that had fallen onto your open binder on the table. You started chewing on it when you saw Gabe pushing one of the boys in your grade with no provoking. You didn’t know what crawled up his ass to decide he could go around stabbing people in the hand.

“That’s not surprising and you know it.” Liam replied pulling out his textbook from his backpack, “Can you believe that Ms. Finch assigned homework?”  

“I can.” You and Liam looked up to see Nolan walking around to sit between the two you, “Are you studying?”

“Are you going to stab me with a pen now?” Liam barked close to shoving his books on the ground, “You almost caused irreparable damage. Mason and him have been very upset about that.”

“Because Corey can’t grip Mason.” You muttered underneath your breath.

 “Huh?” Nolan chimed in not getting your words.

 “Handjob.” You plainly replied flipping to the chapter that Ms. Finch had assigned.

“That’s my best friend Y/N.” Liam grimaced.

“And? I overheard Mason praising him when I was walking by the locker room. They left Coach’s office door opened.”

“You had oddly strong hearing.” Nolan supplied.

 “I depended on my senses in the woods.” You hummed highlighting a sentence in your book that pertained to the assignment sheet.

“Are we still having lunch together?” Nolan inquired with a nervous expression.

“You’re having lunch with him?” Liam barked with a glare towards the other male. Liam seriously still had a vendetta against the poor nervous boy.

“Yes.”

Taking advantage of the nice weather you quickly walked outside to sit on one of the picnic tables with your food. You just had a plain sandwich, an apple, some crackers and a bottle of juice. You didn’t like the school food, the food had gone down hill over the years.

 “There you are.” Nolan chirped collapsing down onto the table beside you. You hummed taking a bite from the sandwich with a cool expression, “Unless you don’t want to eat together. I-I can leave if you want.”

 “You’re fine Nolan.” You sighed, “It’s sad to think that we’re going to graduate without making an impact at this school. Our initials will forever be on the shelves but memories of us will fade away.”

“I won’t.” Nolan whispered.

 “Hm?”

“I won’t forget you.” Nolan whispered stealing a look at you, “You’re unforgettable.”

“You’re growing on me Holloway.” You chuckled pushing your bag of crackers between us, “Wanna a cracker?”

A bright blush grew on his face before he ducked his head down to stare at his feet. You found it absolutely adorable that he did that. The only problem was that when Malia found out she would insist on if you’ve fucked him yet. Stiles would go on a tangent on how if you even look at boy you should let him run a fun background check. Idiot.

“Do you…do you want to maybe watch a movie?” Nolan stuttered picking at the feeling paint on the table.

“I’d love to.” You giggled shifting your hand to be closer to his. Nolan eased his over until your pinkies were intertwined.

“Awesome!” He gushed racing to get his phone in order to gain your number, “What’s you number.”

“1-800-fuck-off.”

Nolan and you snapped your heads to see Stiles standing there disgruntled with the scene in front of him. You were shooting daggers while he ignored you to glare at Nolan.

“Stiles.” You hissed getting up to slap him.

“You’re actually going to go out with Ghostface wannabe.” Stiles snapped widening his stance to accommodate his hands on his nonexistent hips.

“H-how do you know that?” Nolan whispered pulling his frayed sweater cuffs down on his hands.

 “I know everything.” Stiles huffed, “I’m FBI.”

“You’re in the pre-FBI program hotshot.” You spat crossing your arms, “You only know because your dating the principles daughter.”

 “He doesn’t need to know that!” Stiles huffed copying your stance, “I for-“

“You finish that and I’m going to cause you bodily damage.”

“You wouldn’t.” Stiles smirked. You lunged close enough he flinched back almost falling on his ass. He was lucky because Nolan was trying to drag you away from your hips, “Okay I underestimated you!”

“You’re my friend. Not my Dad.” You pouted looking at the older male, “Why are you even here.”

“I felt something bad was going to happen to you.” Stiles admitted, “You’re like my little sister.”

“Let me go out with Nolan.” You whispered slowly walking over to Stiles, “I can fight my own battles Sti. I love you but you need to let me grow up.”

“Fine.” Stiles sighed turning his attention to Nolan, “You hurt her and I will get my good friend Derek to kill you. It will be painful and I’ll help cover the murder up.”

Nolan shuddered but agreed to the conditions with a small smile on his face. He’d do anything to make you happy.

“By the way Stiles! Derek isn’t your friend” You called out earning a middle finger, “I can always cut that off and reattach it your toeless foot!”

“Of fuck off!”

Forever Tag List

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 years ago

Note

Go wild. Who’s the werewolves? Why is Mitch missing? How are these related?

Yesss ilyyy <3

Alright so, it is angst time.

Stiles and Mitch are best friends, thick as thieves, right up to the point that Mitch goes missing. John does everything he can, the Sheriff’s Department investigating what could have happened while the town arranges search parties. The only thing they ever find of his, is the tattered remnants of bloodied clothes. They test the blood and it comes back a match, and Stiles is distraught. It crushes him. He’s about 14 so the grief over his mother’s death is still pretty fresh, and now this? It’s too much.

John doesn’t know what to do for Stiles. It’s awful seeing his baby so broken down and being able to do nothing. In the beginning, he promised Stiles he would do whatever it took to bring Mitch home, made that same promise to his family. And for a while, they all believed it. Because things like this aren’t supposed to happen in Beacon Hills. People move there because it’s a small, quiet town. It’s supposed to be safe. But it’s not. Days turn to weeks, and people stop searching. Weeks turn to months, and John feels like he’s failed.

They never find a body. There’s never any closure; just a pile of bloody clothes, and the most likely cause of death being a bear attack, and that’s just awful to think about.

Stiles tries not to give up hope. He wants to believe Mitch will come back to them someday. But at a certain point, hope hurts more than grief.

What none of them know is that Mitch was attacked by a feral werewolf while out for a run in the preserve one day. He used to run all the time, listening to music and counting down the miles, no big deal. Hunters were hot on the wolf’s trail when it attacked him; they killed it, and when they saw he was bitten, they decided not to let him go, just in case he turned. Sure enough he did, but rather than kill him, they decided to keep him. The hunters are of the sadistic Kate variety, ad figured they could get more fun out of him by keeping him alive.

It’s a year or so before Mitch finally escapes. Not through any means of his own; the hunters were killed by something or someone else, giving him the opportunity he needs. He’s weak, less than human, and all he can think about is getting away, somewhere they can’t hurt him anymore.

It takes Mitch weeks to find his way back to Beacon Hills in the form of a mangy, starved, barely alive wolf, guided by some instinct he can’t identify. But before he can get anywhere close to home, animal control is called. Luckily he’s misidentified as some kind of mutt, seeing as California isn’t supposed to have wolves. He’s skinny, small, and pitiful enough to pass off as a stray. So he’s taken to a vet to see to his many wounds and get him started on canine antibiotics, checked for a microchip which he doesn’t have, etc. As soon as hes somewhat healthy again he’s taken to the pound and left to rot.

Mitch isn’t very friendly, biting and snapping at anyone who comes close, because people aren’t safe. They poke and prod and burn and hurt, and he just wants to go home. None of the staff thinks he has much chance of getting adopted with his behavior, and so they leave him to rot in an out of the way cage in the back of the pound, to wait out his short period to get adopted before being euthanized.

And Mitch just... doesn’t have the strength to hope anymore. He escaped one cage onto to fall into another, and after everything he’s been through, he’s going to be killed by oblivious humans who have no idea they’re murdering a teenage boy in wolf’s clothing.

Then there’s Stiles, missing his best friend, lonely because his dad is gone at work all the time - it’s so hard to face Stiles when seeing his grief fills John with so much guilt - unable to stand the emptiness of the house because it doesn’t feel like a home anymore; he’s barely more than a host haunting it’s empty halls. He decided he wants a dog to keep him company. Someone to talk to, calm him down after yet another nightmare or panic attack.

He goes to the pound after school one day, wandering through the cages. He doesn’t really expect his dad to ever adopt a dog. Then he stumbles on one pitiful creature curled up on a filthy, thin blanket in the corner, looking like it’s already given up on life, and that’s exactly how Stiles feels, too. They’re a perfect match; two lonely, miserable creatures.

When Stiles crouches down in front of the cage and holds his hand out, the dog doesn’t come near. But it watches him, wary and curious, with its sad eyes that are just the right shade of brown to make Stiles want to cry.

Stiles asks an employee about the dog and gets brushed off, told that one’s dangerous and they can’t in good conscience give him away; he’s scheduled to be euthanized later that day.

Hearing that, Stiles is suddenly, irrationally, vehemently against letting them kill this poor dog. He has no idea what possesses him in that moment but he throws the biggest fit, absolutely willing to break the dog out if he has to. He calls his dad and says there’s an emergency and tells him to come to the pound, then begs John to adopt the dog.

It doesn’t take much to convince John. But then, Stiles doesn’t realize how he looks form John’s point of view; red-eyed and on the verge of tears, desperate, borderline manic to save this dog. The same way he looked when they found those bloody clothes in the woods. John can’t disappoint Stiles again. He can’t.

The shelter staff take more convincing. But John puts on the Stern Sheriff Face/Tone, makes them fold, and they get the dog. John drops them off at home since Stiles can’t drive yet, and Stiles gives him a bath.

At this point, Mitch isn’t really Mitch anymore. He’s a wolf, anything human that was left retreating to the recesses of his mind to escape everything the hunters did to him, letting the wolf take full control. He’s been ruled by instinct for so long, he couldn’t remember how to be human if he wanted to. And trust is a very human emotion, one that wolves aren’t prone to.

But Stiles is gentle and kind, and he smells familiar, and Mitch sticks to him all day. He smells like home, the closest to it Mitch has managed to get. Maybe this one, single human can be safe.

John comes home after his shift to find Stiles passed out on the couch clutching Mitch, who’s sleeping on top of him, and is grateful to have gotten the dog if it means Stiles will have someone with him again. He feels a pang of sympathy when Stiles tearfully says he’s named him Mitch; it hurts, but he responds, because the name is something else that sounds familiar even if he doesn’t know why, so it sticks. Stiles always sounds choked up the first few times he uses it. He can’t even remember the last time he said Mitch’s name.

Eventually, slowly, the longer Mitch is with Stiles, the more he feels safe with him, he starts to come back to himself. After a few weeks he’s not even close to okay. But Stiles has started opening up about his grief for the first time, telling Mitch all about his best friend who died last year. Telling him stories of the things they used to do together. Stiles doesn’t realize it, but he’s reminding Mitch of who he is. And he is so far from okay, but he’s okay enough to finally shift back to being human.

It hurts, the transformation is nothing graceful, his joints and bones popping and breaking and rearranging. The sudden sound and movement in the middle of the night wakes Stiles who, understandably, freaks out. There’s a small amount of screaming, quite a bit of crying, and a whole lot of hugging because Mitch is back. He’s alive.

The scream wakes John who comes in guns blazing, expecting something horrible, only to be met with a shell-shocked Mitch and sobbing Stiles, and none of them know what to do. But when Mitch realizes what happened, he kind of... crumples into Stiles, clutching him, not even caring that he’s naked, he’s just so relieved to finally be back to normal again. As close as he’ll ever get, anyway.

After a while Stiles calms down enough to give Mitch some space to get dressed; he doesn’t realize at first how much they’ve both changed when Stiles loans him some clothes, but they’re both taller than they were a year ago, and his limbs feel awkward and clumsy after spending so long as a wolf.

John can’t quite believe any of this is real, and the middle of the night isn’t the time to figure it out. Mitch and Stiles look like hell, and he needs a stiff drink, so they just... don’t talk about it, yet. They’re all too afraid that this isn’t real, so it can wait until morning.

(This is where I diverge from the original, because I had a better idea.)

When Mitch doesn’t disappear like some nightly apparition, John calls his mother. She comes rushing over, but it’s not the happy reunion she’d been hoping for. Mitch is there, but he’s not back, he’s not quite right. Some part of him recognizes his mom, but he can’t trust her, yet. It’s awful to have her baby so close, home after mourning him for so long, and have him reject her.

Mitch is practically glued to Stiles’ side the entire time, suspicious and wary. He doesn’t talk; Stiles doesn’t know if he can even remember how. Things get a little overwhelming and the last thing you want to do is back a wolf into a corner, so Mitch and Stiles retreat back to his room to calm down. That’s when Mitch’s mom finally breaks down, because she doesn’t know what to do. What happened to her boy?

John tries to comfort her, but he doesn’t have any of the answers, either. He doesn’t know what’s happened to Mitch in the past year, but he has noticed the suspiciously lack of Stiles’ dog in the house. It’s not something he wants to think about just yet. But eventually, they’re going to need to talk about it.

I’m not sure where they would go from there. Maybe John talks to Mitch’s mom and they agree to give him a few days to let him adjust; she comes over every day in hopes that he’ll get used to her again, and it slowly works. After a week or two, he has to go home; his room is exactly as he left it, slightly a mess with his homework half-done on the desk. The first night back home, he sneaks out after his mom goes to sleep, right back to Stiles. Stiles probably should be discouraging that, but he can’t; sue him, but he’s going to be clingy for a while, and Mitch feels exactly the same.

Maybe they work out a system where they just spend the weekends together; Stiles knows it’s not fair to Mitch’s family to take up all his time, even if that’s what Mitch seems to want. They love him too.

Mitch has to relearn how to human. Luckily it comes back pretty quick with all of them working on him. Stiles goes the professional route, doing all kinds of research into how to help Mitch recover (they probably try having him work with a couple psychologist, and he hates them all). Soon enough Mitch tells Stiles what happened to him. Not all of it, he doesn’t get into the nitty gritty details of how he was tortured for months on end. But the easier things, how he’s a werewolf, how he was captured by hunters, how he escaped and ended up in that shelter, he tells Stiles all of that.

And then it’s time for the full moon.

Disregard everything that happens after the parenthesis because I’m not sure how much I like it xD I am not wording very well today lol But yeah, that’s the whole thing! I was going to write a short summary, but I also really wanted to talk about it, so... “concise” is not a descriptor that would be applied to me lmao

I also just realized that this is kind of a bastardization of Malia’s storyline, which totally wasn’t my intention! But yeah. Mitch gets turned into a werewolf and goes missing, only to turn up a year later totally Fucked Up, and Stiles nurses him back to Health and Humanity. I LOVE the feral werewolf trope okay T_T

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thecitrinefox · 7 years ago

Text

Foundations

(8.4k fic for sterek week ‘17, day 1, alpha/emissary, warnings for brief language and violence)

“What the fuck.”

Derek thinks he’s probably seen this kid around town for years. He has vague recollections of seeing him at holiday parties or town events, fidgeting next to the Sheriff and his wife before she died. Maybe he got invited to one of Cora’s birthday parties at some point, since they’re in the same grade. Hell, the kid is a sophomore now like Cora and Derek is a senior, which means they’ve been going to the same school for over a year so chances are they’ve been somewhere in the school at the same time. But despite this, apparently they’ve never met because surely, surely if they’d ever spoken or touched, or looked into each other’s eyes, Derek would have noticed this.

This being the buzzing across his skin, the loud thump of his own heartbeat, in time with the rhythmic beating in the chest of the kid in front of him, each of their eyes wide with shock. Derek can’t quite get himself to drop the kid’s wrist where he’d grabbed it after bumping directly into him in the crowded hallway of the school’s math wing.

“What the fuck,” the kid hisses again, but doesn’t pull his arm away. Can’t seem to tear his eyes away either, and Derek thinks they have at least that in common. They’re crouched in the middle of the hallway, a textbook and notebook spilled haphazardly on the floor between them, and students awkwardly around them. Derek thinks a couple of people say something to them, telling them to move, but it sounds like it’s coming from miles away so he ignores it

“Are you okay?” Derek asks, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and the kid is staring at him like Derek is the one who’s done something wrong here.

“Am I okay?” the kid parrots, almost angrily. “Am I okay?? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, we just bumped into each other,” Derek points out.

“Then what the hell is…” the kid trails off, spastically waving his free hand between them instead of finishing his sentence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Derek says. He jumps the same time as the kid does, when someone puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder. It’s one of his friends, Derek thinks vaguely, although he doesn’t know his name.

“We’re gonna be late for chemistry,” the friend says, and the kid jerks his wrist almost violently out of Derek’s hand, finally. They both look down at their own hands, and Derek thinks that he must’ve thought that letting go would get rid of that weird feeling too, but it hasn’t stopped, has gotten worse maybe. Derek picks up the books on the floor and hands them over and they both stand, awkwardly.

“We’ll continue this later,” the kid hisses even as his friend drags him off, and Derek wants to say ‘what this’, but even if he doesn’t know what this is, as the buzzing of his body increases the further away he gets, he thinks that maybe the kid is right and it’s not something they can ignore.

He doesn’t see the kid for the rest of the day, although during lunch period he skips out on the cafeteria and instead tracks down last year’s yearbook in the library. Stiles Stilinski it says, and it’s weird, but could be weirder. His own parents gave his sisters rhyming names, so it’s not like the Hales are in a place to judge. The freshman year photo is goofy as all get out, and makes him kind of want to avoid him entirely, but clearly something happened, possibly of a supernatural nature and he thinks that these things tend to get worse, not better if ignored, so he should probably track this Stiles down and try to figure it out, or at least convince Stiles that there’s some kind of perfectly reasonable, not-supernatural reason for their electrifying first meeting.

“I’m thinking this is just some sort of freak atmospheric thing,” Derek says. “Static electricity maybe? You said this hasn’t happened with anyone else?”

“Static electricity, really, that’s what you’re going with,” Stiles says, crossing his arms and looking unimpressed when Derek manages to corner him behind the gym after school the next day. “If it was static electricity it would’ve been a brief shock, then we’d be done, but I’ve felt like I was crawling out of my skin for the past twenty-four hours in a way that’s extreme even for me. And if it was atmospheric I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have happened to just us in the middle of a crowded school hallway. Do better.”

“Look I don’t know what it is, maybe it’ll wear off,” Derek says.

“Just admit you did some kind of freaky werewolf thing to me, okay,” Stiles says, leaning in and lowering his voice. Derek forces himself to stay still and not jerk back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek says awkwardly. He’s usually pretty good at covering up any evidence of his being a werewolf, but then again he’s never been directly accused of it either.

“Look,” Stiles says. “Don’t you think we’re a little past the point of you playing dumb? Whatever this...thing is, it has something to do with your werewolf shit, okay. Everyone knows Beacon Hills is weird, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that the Hales are at the epicenter of it. At first I thought maybe you guys were mobsters or something, like some sort of organized crime family gone suburban...”

Derek scoffs.

“Don’t even,” Stiles warns. “You guys are crazy rich, super hot, and involved in everything. Your family is weirdly codependent and loyal, and even you have to admit that your uncle Peter is sketchy as shit.”

“Okay well you have a point there,” Derek admits, thinking about how Peter has been acting even more squirrelly than usual lately.

“So...werewolves,” Stiles prompts.

“Fine,” Derek says, feeling the situation spiraling desperately out of control. His heart rate is increasing, and even though Stiles looks calm he can hear it increase to match. “We’re werewolves, you got me.”

“Okay that’s great, but like I said I already knew that. Weirdo family that lives in the woods, reports of howling even though there are no wolves in California, years ago there were a bunch of suspicious animal attacks, it wasn’t that hard to narrow down once you knew what to look for,” Stiles says.

“Most people wouldn’t immediately jump to something that is widely known to be mythical like werewolves,” Derek says.

“Well I’m not most people,” Stiles says.

“I’m getting that,” Derek says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay what do you want to know.”

“What the hell is going on,” Stiles exclaims. “What was that, that...vibration or shock or whatever the hell you did to me when we collided. I’m pretty sure you can’t turn people into a werewolf just by touching, and besides I’m the same weak scrawny human I always was, but you did something.”

“That wasn’t me,” Derek says. He rolls his eyes when Stiles groans. “No really. I have no more idea what that was than you do. But I agree, something happened. Ever since we touched it’s like...”

“Like a constant buzzing that only goes away when we’re near?” Stiles says, looking away and blushing. “Like you can’t stop thinking about me? Like you can hear my heartbeat from across the school?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “So wait, you feel it too? You can hear my heartbeat? That shouldn’t be possible.”

“Werewolves shouldn’t be possible,” Stiles snarks. “Do better. C’mon, man. I only realized werewolves were real like a year ago. I’ve been researching as much as I can, but I’m pretty sure at least seventy-five percent of what I come across has been bullshit and it’s not like I have someone I can just ask. Hey, what about your mom. I mean, she’s the Alpha right, I got that much at least after sorting through a lot of really questionable internet content. If she’s the leader of your pack she has to know what this is.”

“No,” Derek says firmly. “Whatever this is, I want to know more about it before we even think about going to my mom. She can be pretty...intense about stuff. And also...”

“You don’t want her finding out about your secret human girlfriend?” Stiles asks. “Yeah I know about Paige. And I know you guys think you’re being sneaky, but if I noticed, odds are other people have too. Although people are pretty unobservant, so who knows, maybe not.”

“Shit,” Derek says. “Look, it’s not like we’re completely banned from dating or being friends with humans, but it always makes things more complicated. Keeping what we are a secret is the most important thing we learn. I’m not sure how my mom would react to you knowing, and I’m not sure how to talk to her about it without telling her you’re feeling this stuff too. Besides, I know I said I didn’t do anything, but you’re human and I can’t help but feel like maybe this is my fault.”

“Okay well having been to your house for some of your mom’s fancy Christmas shindigs I know you guys have a freaking library in it. There has to be something in there that can help us,” Stiles says. “Like maybe on the shelves that have locked screens over them?”

“If my mom catches me stealing books I’m not supposed to be looking at, she’ll kill me,” Derek says.

“Well I’ve seen the way you guys sniff everything, there is literally no way I’m going to be able to sneak in and steal something, I’m guessing one of the many many werewolves who live in your goddamn mansion will smell a human from a mile away,” Stiles says. “Dude, you gotta work with me here. Do you want to figure this out or not.”

“I do,” Derek says. Right now his whole being is humming with a weird combination of excitement and content, but he knows as soon as he and Stiles split up that the weird buzzing, the headache, the loud thump of Stiles’ heartbeat even from a distance will spark up again and he knows they can’t live this way indefinitely.

“Okay, so try to find some kind of books that might help us figure this out. You don’t even have to read them, just bring them to me, I’m good at research,” Stiles says.

“I’m not an idiot, I can help research,” Derek says defensively. “I do well at school, and I do know a lot about supernatural creatures, I just haven’t learned about this.”

“Fine, okay,” Stiles says, holding his hands out placatingly. “So I have lacrosse practice right after school, and you have basketball tomorrow evening right. There should be like an hour or two between them, we can meet in one of the French classrooms, they never lock those cause there’s nothing to steal in them. If you can get some books on, I don’t know, weird werewolf magic or whatever then we can try to figure this out, okay? Maybe your mom, or heaven forbid, my dad, never even need to know about any of this, we can get rid of it on our own.”

“Okay,” Derek agrees grudgingly. It’s not like he has a better idea.

“And try to be sneakier about it than you are when you’re meeting up with Paige,” Stiles says with a smirk. “Unless you want everyone to think you’ve got two secret lovers.”

“Please don’t ever say that word again,” Derek says, turning and leaving without saying goodbye. He can hear Stiles chuckling at his own joke behind him and rolls his eyes. Of all the people to get some weird link to, it has to be Stiles. What did he do to deserve this.

“Dude, you’re late,” Stiles grumps, his feet swinging and hitting the legs of the desk he’s sitting on.

“Sorry, I think Peter knows about Paige,” Derek says, dumping the heavy bag of books he’d managed to grab onto another desk. “He’s been creeping around the school and he keeps asking me weird questions. It took a while to shake him. I’m meeting her later tonight, but I think he thought I was going to meet her now, I don’t know he kept making vague insinuations about what I’m up to. He definitely knows something. I got the books though, and I don’t think anyone noticed.”

“Great, well hand ‘em over, we don’t have a lot of time,” Stiles says, hopping down and making gimme motions with his hands. Derek splits up the books, and they sit, beginning to flip through them. Stiles whips out a notebook and starts taking notes, which Derek ignores. He can’t imagine what his mom would say if she knew Derek was sharing this information with some random human, but somehow it feels right, the two of them sitting here and working together. The time flies by and before he knows it, his phone alarm is going off, letting him know he has to get to practice.

“I have to go,” Derek says. “I didn’t find anything useful. You?”

“Maybe,” Stiles says. Derek tries to take the books from him, but Stiles grabs one back, clutching it protectively to his chest.

“Stiles, my mom’s gonna notice if these books are missing,” Derek says, packing the others up.

“So put the others back,” Stiles says. “I think this one will be useful, just let me have it for the night and I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

Derek thinks for a moment. His mom really will kill him if she thinks he’s been stealing books from her library that he’s not supposed to touch in the first place, but he’s already running late for practice and he doesn’t have time to argue with Stiles. Plus they really do need to figure this out and between practice, family dinner and meeting up with Paige he won’t have time to read through the book himself.

“Fine,” Derek says. “But you have to give it back to me tomorrow, okay. And let me know if you find something.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Same Bat-time, same Bat-place,” Stiles says with a grin.

“Ugh,” Derek says, half-heartedly as he rushes out the door.

The next day when Derek gets to the classroom it’s empty. He sits on one of the desks, waiting, thinking about how he could be spending this time with Paige rather than waiting about for some random sophomore. She’s been patient with him, about his need to keep their relationship a secret. Sometimes he wonders if maybe she’s so patient about it because she’s embarrassed to be seen with him but he quickly squashes down that thought. She likes him, he knows she does. But he knows he doesn’t make it easy, and the more times he has to make excuses that he can’t see her the worse it’ll get, he thinks.

He’s just about to give up, and text her to see if maybe they can’t make out in his car for a while in the school parking lot before basketball practice when Stiles stumbles, wheezing into the room. Derek should’ve known Stiles was getting close when the tightness in his chest eased and his skin stopped crawling quite so much.

“Oh thank god, you’re here,” Stiles says, collapsing into one of the chairs. He fumbles at his bag and hands over the book, which Derek checks over and then puts in his own bag protectively. “Sorry, just took me a while to photocopy the whole thing. Lots of nickels, and man, those old texts just don’t copy well, lemme tell you.”

“Well?” Derek demands, feeling less and less patient by the second. “Did you find anything or didn’t you?”

“I mean, maybe?” Stiles hedges. “Okay, so I’ve only read the thing once, and it’s not like, super clear about everything, plus it’s kind of old timey so the language is strange....”

“Get on with it,” Derek grumbles.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles says. “So this book mostly focuses on Emissaries, you know what those are?”

“I’m a werewolf, not an idiot,” Derek says. It’s weirdly freeing to be able to say that kind of thing, and his chest loosens even further, despite himself. He tries to ignore the feeling. “Every pack or Alpha has their own Emissary, someone, generally a human, who can do magic and guide and help them when they need it. They keep the balance.”

“Right,” Stiles says, nodding. “Okay so this is like, totally crazy, and might be wrong, but so far the only time I’ve seen stuff in the books about some kind of weirdo meeting between a werewolf and a human is in the book about Emissaries. Apparently sometimes when an Alpha meets their Emissary they feel it physically. Because the Emissary’s spark doesn’t totally come online until they meet maybe? I don’t know it wasn’t totally clear, but it sounded kind of like what happened to us maybe?”

“I’m not an Alpha,” Derek points out. “And last I checked, you coudn’t do magic.”

“Look, I didn’t say it was definitely an Alpha-Emissary thing,” Stiles says. “Just that it was the closest thing I’d found and we should look into it more.”

“Fine,” Derek says, writing down his phone number and email address and handing it over. “Send me copies of the pages you copied. We’ll look into it. Anything else?”

“Other than your attitude problem? No,” Stiles says, although he smiles as he looks at the slip of paper, and immediately taking his phone out to add Derek’s number. Derek sighs, already regretting the decision. But it’s not like they can meet up every day, he knows it’ll be easier to just text. His phone buzzes, and he sighs heavily as he checks it.

HEY ALPHA

“I’m not an Alpha,” Derek says, walking out. “And you’re not an Emissary.”

Derek may not be an Alpha, but the more they research and the more Stiles learns, the less convinced Derek is that Stiles isn’t an Emissary. They maybe meet face to face once or twice a week, but Stiles texts Derek constantly, making him realize that Stiles probably doesn’t have too many friends outside of Scott, who he mentions occasionally, and who Derek sees him with in hallways occasionally. Derek would try to keep their meetings to just text and email, but if they go too long without standing close to each other, hands brushing as Stiles gestures while talking, then they both get too irritable, too on edge. So they meet a couple times a week between practices to check in and to exchange books. So far Stiles has been like a sponge when it comes to soaking in information about the supernatural world, but despite their continued research they still haven’t come up with anything more convincing than an Alpha-Emissary bond. Stiles has an uncanny knack for understanding how magic works though, and while he hasn’t done anything too impressive yet, at least to Derek’s eyes, occasionally he can make sparks just from snapping his fingers, and has almost encyclopedic knowledge of herbs, stones and other materials that an Emissary might use. Derek thinks he’ll almost be disappointed when they inevitably find out the truth of what’s going on, that this was just some sort of freak occurrence, and the bond is broken.

Paige is beginning to realize something is up as well, Derek thinks. How, he’s not sure, because he was already keeping the werewolf thing a secret from her, so what’s one more thing? But Paige is sharp, and observant and actually a lot like Stiles, when Derek thinks about it, which he tries not to. He wonders if they’d get along if they ever met, or if they’d be so similar that their clever sarcastic natures would clash too much and they’d hate each other. Derek isn’t sure which situation would be worse, so mostly he’s just grateful that he’s managed to keep these two parts of his life separate.

He does feel a little guilty that Stiles knows about Paige, when Paige doesn’t know about Stiles, especially since Paige is his girlfriend. He tries to justify it to himself that he didn’t tell Stiles about Paige, Stiles figured it out, and also technically, if Stiles really is an Emissary, that falls under the category of Werewolf Stuff, and so really the Stiles secret is just another part of the original big werewolf secret he’s been keeping all his life.

It’s maybe a shitty way of justifying it, but Derek doesn’t know what else to do.

The autumn months fly by, and Peter is getting stranger by the day, Paige is beginning to get impatient with him, and even Derek’s mom is beginning to look at him like she’s trying to figure out what’s going on. He’s been pulling away from his family a little, he knows, and he knows it’s probably raised questions but he can’t outright lie to any of them, they’d be on him in a heartbeat. Still, talking to them like nothing is going on is becoming harder by the day. He’s beginning to think that maybe he should just tell his mom what’s been going on, and accept the consequences, but the longer he goes without telling her the worse it feels.

And then suddenly it’s December and the winter holidays are upon them and everyone is busy busy busy with the end of semester and holiday stuff, and Derek thinks maybe this will give him a brief reprieve from everything he’s been hiding. He knows Paige will be busy with her family, and he shouldn’t feel relief about that, but he does. He needs to get her some kind of present but he thinks maybe he can give it to her in January, once things settle down. Stiles has been bugging him for more books to read as well, more stuff to learn, but Derek can’t risk taking more from his mother’s library. He thinks maybe after the holidays are over if they can find a day to sneak off, he’ll drive Stiles to a bookstore he knows carries supernatural tomes a couple hours away and buy him a couple volumes of his choosing, ones that Stiles will be able to keep, not just hastily make crappy photocopies of or hurriedly rush through before Derek has to put it back.

After the holidays, he thinks. And then he’ll think about telling his mom. About Paige, about Stiles, about all of it. She’ll be mad, but she’ll know what to do. He knew things didn’t just go away when you tried to ignore them, and this experience is definitive proof. Not that Stiles agrees, of course, the less his dad knows about his problems the better, according to Stiles. Sometimes he’ll make jokes about being a burden, either to his dad or to Derek, and Derek thinks maybe they aren’t really jokes but also he doesn’t know what to say to that, so usually he just rolls his eyes and changes the subject. He guesses that Stiles thinks he’s a burden to Derek because he makes Derek spend time with him and steal books, and makes his heart feel anxious and his muscles buzz when they’re apart, but then what will Derek do, he thinks sometimes, when they do manage to fix this and all that goes away? When he and Stiles no longer have a reason to see each other?

It hasn’t happened yet, so he puts it out of his mind. Between school and research and Paige and his family’s Christmas preparations he just doesn’t have the time to dwell on that.

The Hale’s Annual Holiday Party happens a couple days before Christmas this year. Winter break has started, and normally Derek loves these things, but Paige and Stiles are going to be there with their parents this year and Derek’s imagination has been going wild with all the ways that this could go wrong.

It’s fine at first. His family loves the holidays, so does the town and so as people filter in and the Hales get to let loose a little, and just be normal, everyone is in a good mood and it’s infectious. The tightness in Derek’s chest and the anxiety buzzing through his skin starts to ease, and he enjoys himself, right up until the Sheriff and his son show up and are re-introduced to everyone and Derek realizes just why that is. Paige, and her parents, show up less than ten minutes later, and even though Stiles’s presence has eased the physical tension he’d had, he can’t help but let the anxiety creep in as he tries not to watch either Paige or Stiles circulate the party.

Derek spends an hour ignoring both of them until all of a sudden he wonders if maybe his avoidance is suspicious in and of itself. He tracks down Stiles, idiotically finding him lingering by the punch bowl, underneath one of the plastic mistletoe’s that have been scattered about the place. To his relief he doesn’t even have to pick a fight, Stiles just launches into a rant about the poisonous qualities of mistletoe and the consent issues arising from from the kissing tradition associated with it which he’d apparently only really become aware of when he’d tried to kiss someone named Lydia under it a couple years ago and been slapped and had a drink thrown in his face. He’d only been trying to kiss her cheek, and they’d been about fourteen at the time, but still, it had left an impression. Derek is about halfway through his own rejoinder on how nobody has to kiss anybody they don’t want to, it’s just a decoration and since it’s plastic it’s unlikely to poison anyone, but then he sees Paige, trying to catch his eye from across the room, before disappearing out the back door. Derek looks around, but nobody seems to be paying them attention. Thankfully Stiles just rolls his eyes, then nods at the back door where Paige had disappeared before helping himself to more punch.

Derek goes.

Paige is waiting for him on one of the benches out in the garden. They don’t get much snow in California, even up north, but it’s cold, the ground hard and frozen, and Derek can see Paige’s breath as she shivers slightly.

“Sorry,” Derek says automatically as he sits down next to her. He thinks that this is the sort of situation where he should offer her his coat, but he’s only wearing a button-up shirt and he can’t give her that. Stupid, he thinks. He never plans stuff out like he should.

“Are you cheating on me?” Paige asks, bluntly.

“What?” Derek exclaims. He glances back at the house, but the party inside is slightly raucous at this point and he thinks nobody should be able to hear them out here, not even with werewolf hearing. “No, what?”

“Don’t act dumb, I know you’ve been sneaking around with the Sheriff’s son,” Paige says. She doesn’t even look that angry, but there’s a glint in her eye that defies Derek to contradict her. “I mean, if you’re having some kind of crisis here about Stiles being a boy, I get that, but I don’t understand why you’ve kept things going with me, it’s not like I’m a beard since nobody knows about us.”

“Oh god,” Derek says. “No, okay, I know how it looks, but I swear there’s nothing happening like that between me and Stiles. I would never cheat on you, you have to believe me. I’m not like that.”

“Okay so why are the two of you sneaking around?” Paige says, then pauses. “Is it a werewolf thing?”

Derek feels his jaw drop.

“What,” Paige says with a shrug. “You guys are really not as subtle about this stuff as you think you are.”

“Yeah but most people don’t see shifty behavior and immediately think werewolves,” Derek hisses, not even bothering to deny it. This is his life now, he thinks resigned. Hales have kept their secret for hundreds of years, and he’s been on this planet for less than eighteen years and yet Derek has already fucked it all up. God he’s the worst. Two humans figuring out his secret in less than six months, that’s gotta be some kind of record.

“Okay so what’s going on then? Stiles isn’t a werewolf, right? But he knows about you guys? Sometimes at school he stares at me, like he knows something I don’t, but I do know, so he has to know,” Paige says, grabbing Derek’s hand. “There’s always weird stuff going on in this town, are you guys like, detectives.”

“We’re not detectives, jeez,” Derek says, although he laces their fingers together, feeling a swell of relief to tell the truth, along with some kind of strange strange swell of something else, like he doesn’t quite want to tell her about Stiles, even though it’s not what she’d thought. “Something has been happening to Stiles. We’re trying to figure it out. It’s not a big deal, and it’s not really my story to tell.”

“Okay,” Paige agrees, although she seems disappointed. “But the werewolf thing is why you don’t want to tell your family about us, right.”

“Yeah,” Derek reassures her quickly. “I mean, that and they’re pretty nosy and overbearing, it’s the worst. Look, if you want me to, I’ll tell them about you. We can go in right now.”

“No, it’s okay,” Paige says, untangling their hands and standing up. “Let’s not rush into things. But you can talk to me about stuff, you know. I can keep your secrets.”

“Thanks,” Derek says, feeling unsure. Not about whether he can trust Paige, he thinks he can, but unsure about whether he wants to tell her about things. About Stiles. Whether he should tell his family about his girlfriend anyways, even if it complicates things. He thinks maybe he should want to, at least, but he doesn’t.

He stays outside while she goes back in to her parents. He can’t hear her voice once it’s swallowed up by the noise of the party, but he can track Stiles’ heartbeat as he moves about the house, then eventually leaves with his father. He’s feeling more and more tense as the distance between them increases that he almost misses it when Peter joins him in the garden.

“Interesting party,” Peter says. “Interesting guests.”

“Sure,” Derek says, although he isn’t sure about what Peter wants. He wonders how he could have ever hero-worshipped Peter as he’d done when he was younger. Too naive, maybe, to see the kinds of games his uncle was so fond of playing. Even now that he knows they’re there, he still can’t always evade their traps.

“Love is the most important thing in the world, most people think,” Peter says, gaze heavy on Derek’s face. “Most people would do anything for it, right.”

“I guess,” Derek agrees. “Excuse me.”

He walks inside, but feels Peter’s eyes on him for the rest of the night.

“I have to say, the school wouldn’t have been my choice of romantic rendez-vous spots for New Years, but I’ll take it,” Derek says. It’s a week later, and he’d finally managed to slip away from his family’s New Year’s Eve celebration to meet Paige in the hall outside the music room at the school. He’s not sure why she’d texted him to meet here of all places, but after their last awkward encounter he thinks he should make an effort regardless.

“What do you mean it wouldn’t be your choice, Derek, you chose it,” Paige says. She’s dressed comfortably, like she’d been planning on an early night and not like she was here on a romantic date with her boyfriend.

“I didn’t choose it,” Derek says slowly. “Wait, you didn’t text me?”

“You texted me,” Paige huffs. “Wait, if you didn’t…”

Paige breaks off as a distant growl rumbles through the halls.

“Please tell me that this is just a prank, and that was somebody in your family just having some fun welcoming me to knowing about werewolves,” Paige says, grabbing Derek’s hand. He pulls her closer, placing his body between her and the noise from down the hall. He can hear the distant screech of claws being run over the metal of lockers, and he herds her with his body further down the hall.

“I really wish I could,” Derek says. “Run!”

Paige, thankfully, doesn’t hesitate. Derek doesn’t usually think of Beacon Hills High as being exceptionally large, but right now the hallways seem endless as they run down them. He can hear the strange werewolf behind them, gaining on them. It sounds large, steady, and Derek thinks it must be an Alpha. He doesn’t know what it wants with them, but clearly no Alpha would confront the son of Talia Hale alone at night if they didn’t mean some sort of ill will.

Derek is so pumped up with adrenaline, his claws and fangs coming out unbidden as he prepares for fight even as they choose the flight option, that he almost doesn’t notice it when the usual buzzing starts to dim again. It’s only when he hears Stiles’ heartbeat twin with his own that he realizes that he’s here at the school too.

“No,” Derek grits out. He’s beginning to realize they can’t outrun the Alpha behind them so he’s started considering his options for hiding Paige or fighting, but then there are claws raking down his back, and he tries to push Paige forward, but she falls too, a couple feet ahead of him.

“Run,” Derek shouts at her, even as he tries to turn and swipes his claws across the Alpha’s chest. The Alpha is even larger than Derek had realized, and barely even flinches, digging his own claws into Derek’s soft exposed belly. Derek screams, can’t help it, but the Alpha seems less interested in him, gripping his throat and tossing Derek to the side. Derek tries to catch his breath, struggling to sit up and before he knows it Paige is by his side, helping him up.

“You need to run,” Derek rasps at her as the Alpha moves towards them.

“You must be the girl,” the Alpha growls, and Derek feebly tries to push her behind him. He thinks maybe if he attacks the Alpha with all he’s got, he can distract it enough that Paige can get away, only the steady beat in his ears is getting louder and before Derek can move, the door behind the Alpha is swinging open and there’s Stiles. Derek can only look on in horror as Stiles hits the Alpha across the head with baseball bat. The Alpha is temporarily stunned, long enough for Paige to haul Derek up and help him move down the hall slightly, but then the Alpha is turning behind him and grabbing Stiles, his claws digging mercilessly into Stiles’ shoulder before tossing him aside too.

“No,” Derek shouts before he can help it. The Alpha is once again heading towards them and Derek tries to shield Paige, but Stiles is forcing himself up and reaching out, tossing something into the air and Derek has one brief moment where he thinks maybe Stiles is trying to douse the Alpha in wolfsbane, only then Stiles claps his hands together, one pale but strong, the other dripping with blood from his injured shoulder. It doesn’t seem to make a difference though, because the ash he’d thought was wolfsbane is actually mountain ash, something that becomes apparent when it sails past the Alpha’s head and lands in a perfect circle around Derek and Paige, protecting them.

I didn’t know he could do that, Derek thinks dumbly.

“Paige, whatever happens, you guys stay in the circle,” Stiles shouts at them, collapsing onto his knees. The Alpha slams a fist towards Derek’s face, and Paige flinches behind him, but the circle holds strong, and the Alpha’s fist stops half a foot away from them, the barrier sparking slightly as it’s hit.

“Stiles,” Derek shouts helplessly, putting his own hand out and hitting the barrier. The Alpha in front of him smirks, like he just gave something away.

“I was promised a new beta, and I’m gonna get one,” the hulking Alpha says, turning back towards Stiles.

“Oh god,” Derek hears Paige gasp behind him, but his whole body feels like it’s on fire now. He pounds against the barrier keeping him in as the Alpha walks down the hall, grabbing Stiles roughly by the arm and dragging him back in front of where Derek is trapped.

“If you touch him, I’ll kill you,” Derek screams. It feels like he’s burning up from the inside out, but the barrier almost feels like it has some give to it. Like he’s moving in slow motion, but he’s moving.

The Alpha slams Stiles down on the ground in front of them, a loud crack resounding through the hall as Stiles’ arm snaps and Stiles screams. Paige is crying behind him and Derek thinks he’s going mad at this point, beating wildly against the barrier.

“He’ll make a good beta, a good pet,” the Alpha says with a smirk. “If he survives of course. These kinds of turns often don’t.”

“Stay in the circle, Derek,” Stiles says, and there’s blood on his mouth and he’s crying, probably despite himself. “It’s not your fault, please, just…”

The Alpha opens his mouth, fangs glistening, and Derek can’t watch Stiles be hurt by this Alpha, can’t watch him get turned against his will by someone else, can’t watch him die if he rejects the bite, as it happens when someone with a strong will or conflicted nature gets bitten when they don’t want to be.

Derek looks down and meets Stiles’ eyes. Stiles looks calm, staring back, like he wouldn’t rather be anywhere than here, protecting Derek.

The mountain ash barrier snaps, Derek can feel it bend to his will in an instant and then he’s through, tackling the Alpha to the ground, several feet away from both Stiles and Paige. The fight is fast and mean, and Derek thinks he doesn’t care what happens to him, as long as Stiles and Paige are safe. The Alpha has a grip on his throat that he just barely manages to break away from and he takes a couple steps back to catch his breath, feeling furious and more wolflike than he ever has before, his eyes glowing. The Alpha looks up and falters.

“What…” the Alpha says, staring at him. “Not possible.”

“If you touch them I’ll kill you,” Derek growls, and he feels powerful, more powerful than he ever has, and he wonders if that’s what all this with Stiles was. Some kind of power they’d both tapped into without being able to access it. Well he can feel it now. He wonders if Stiles can feel it too.

Derek lunges at the Alpha, feeling invincible and the Alpha must see that in his expression because he turns and runs. For a second it feels like victory, then it just feels confusing.

“Derek!” Paige shouts, and Derek turns and jogs back to where Paige has managed to haul Stiles into the ash circle. He’s bleeding, his eyes unfocused, and Paige only looks marginally better, her face bruised, hands bloody where they’re pressed against Stiles’ chest.

“Call your mom,” Stiles says, weakly. Derek nods, because yes, his Alpha needs to know about this other Alpha who was on Hale territory, attacking their Pack. He leans his head back and howls, the reverberations deeper and louder than he’s used to.

“I meant like, call her on your cell phone, but okay,” Stiles jokes.

“Break the circle,” Derek commands.

“You break it,” Stiles replies childishly. “You did before, and how the fuck did you do that dude, I thought werewolves were kept out by that shit.”

“I...don’t know,” Derek admits. “Add that to the list of things we don’t know.”

“Ugh, I hate not knowing things,” Stiles says.

“Yeah I know,” Derek says. He reaches out his hand though, and finds he can wave away the mountain ash, creating a hole he can lurch through in order to touch Paige’s face, making sure she’s okay, before putting his hands on Stiles, trying to take as much pain as possible. His arms are lined with black, and he feels guilt roiling through him. Neither Stiles nor Paige would be here tonight if it wasn’t for him, he thinks. He may not have been the one to call them here, but they never would have even known about werewolves otherwise.

“Derek, your eyes,” Paige says, reaching a hand out to his face, before pulling it back.

“What?” Derek asks, glancing down at Stiles, who is also staring at him in wonder.

“They’re red,” Stiles says.

In the distance Derek can hear his Pack getting closer, the uneven sirens of police and ambulances not far behind them. Their reckoning is here.

Derek ends up having to wear a bandage and a sling. He’d been covered in too much blood when the authorities had shown up, to reasonably pretend he hadn’t been injured, and while they’d managed to keep him from being seen by a doctor, thanks in part to an amiable nurse named Melissa, they’d still needed some visual representation that he’d been hurt and was healing like any other human, and so Derek had been convinced that wearing his arm in a sling for a while was the easiest way to do that.

Derek had thought that talking to the police (especially the Sheriff, Stiles’ father) would be the hardest part, but it turned out that other than omitting a couple salient details, telling the truth in their statements was the easiest way of this whole thing. Derek and Paige were secretly dating, yes. They had met up at the school to make out on New Years Eve, yes. They were violently attacked by some man, yes. They didn’t know him, no. They didn’t know why Stiles showed up, no, but Stiles was odd, wasn’t he. He turned up where he wasn’t wanted sometimes. They didn’t know what that man wanted from them, no. They thought he had a knife maybe, he was crazy, who knew why crazy people did things.

It was all pretty straight forward. Talia even said she thought maybe the Sheriff would be an asset, if he was in the know about werewolves, they’d have to think about it, and put it to a Pack vote.

Derek didn’t know how he felt about that.

Stiles had to spend some time in the hospital. He’d had a collapsed lung, and they’d had to put pins in to set some of the bones broken in his shoulder. While he was in surgery, after they’d made their statement to the police and they’d watched the Sheriff pace aimlessly and anxiously around the waiting room before being ushered out for coffee by Melissa, the nurse with knowing eyes, after Paige had been dragged out of the hospital by her parents who’d given Derek dark looks, that he thought he deserved, he finally turned towards his mother.

“This is all my fault,” Derek says, burying his face in his hands.

“Did you hurt Stiles?” Talia asks beside him. “Did you give Paige those bruises? Put that fear in her eyes?”

“No,” Derek says immediately. “I’d never hurt them. But I didn’t tell you I was dating Paige. I didn’t tell you something was going on with Stiles. If I’d told you this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe,” Talia says. “Derek show me your eyes.”

“No,” Derek says, covering them with his hands. But Talia reaches out, turning his chin so he can’t look away. He finally opens his eyes, letting their true color shine through.

“A True Alpha isn’t something to be ashamed of,” Talia says after a moment. “It’s something to be celebrated.”

“You aren’t mad?” Derek asks, feeling small despite everything that had happened that night.

“I’m not going to tell you that I’m not upset that you hid all of this from me,” Talia says, releasing him and sitting back. “But part of that is on me. You didn’t feel safe coming to me with this. Either with your relationship or your bond with your Emissary. I guess I wasn’t expecting these things from you, but that’s no excuse. You should have felt comfortable coming to me with these things, and you didn’t. Derek, you’re so responsible most of the time, sometimes I forget how young you still are. I’m sorry I made you think you had to hide these things.”

“I should have told you,” Derek says. “I don’t understand why I am an Alpha, I messed everything up. Stiles and Paige almost died. I never wanted to be an Alpha in the first place.”

“The best Alphas never do,” Talia says with a sigh. “I think that’s why you got this power. You were willing to give up your life to protect them. That meant something.”

“Is Stiles really my Emissary? And how come we formed that bond before I was even an Alpha?” Derek asks.

“I don’t have all the answers,” Talia says, putting her arm around his shoulders. Derek leans against her. He may be an Alpha now, but Talia is still his mom. “I just know that this was meant to be. We’ll take it one day at a time from now on. And I promise you, whoever set this up with this Alpha will pay.”

“Now that I do believe,” Derek chuckles. He can hear Stiles’ heartbeat, steady even in surgery and listens, grateful he has this proof even across the hospital that Stiles might be okay.

It’s two more days before Derek manages to talk to Stiles or Paige. Sheriff Stilinski has apparently been let in on their supernatural secret and taken it basically as well as they could have hoped for. Derek had thought maybe it would make the Sheriff hate him, but instead he finds the Sheriff slapping him on the shoulder and telling him he hopes that maybe he could use his supernatural powers to keep Stiles out of trouble.

“Honestly, of the two of you, I’m more worried about you in this whole magical partnership thing,” the Sheriff says, and Derek doesn’t really know what to say to that. For the first couple days Stiles is hopped up enough on pain medication that Derek can’t really talk to him. Instead he manages to sit down properly with Paige, now that everything is out in the open.

“Look, I like you, and I don’t even mind the werewolf thing,” Paige says, sitting on her living room couch with him, her parents lingering in the kitchen nearby. “But it seems like you have a lot of stuff to figure out now, and my parents will feel better if I’m somewhere safer than Beacon Hills. I can focus on my music, and you can learn to be an Alpha. Just not together. But I want to stay in touch, if that’s something you’d want. It’s okay if you don’t, but I figured, if you needed someone to talk to, who knows about werewolves but isn’t in your Pack, I could be that person.”

It’s well...it hurts. To put it bluntly. It’s Derek’s first real break-up and it hurts, but part of him thinks it should hurt more. But Paige is alive, and mostly unharmed, and Stiles is alive, and less unharmed but healing, and Derek thinks all things considered they got lucky. And if that means that Paige needs to go live her life, whole and healthy somewhere else, well, he can’t be too bitter about that. She kisses him on the cheek, and he flashes his eyes at her as he leaves and she just laughs, delightedly. She’s not afraid of him, not any part, and he thinks he’s glad to have her in his life, in whatever capacity he can have her.

It’s another day before the Sheriff lets Derek know that not only is Stiles finally properly awake, but he’s been complaining all day about Derek’s absence in his hospital room. It takes Derek most of the morning to convince himself to go visit, nervous even if he doesn’t quite know why.

“I cannot believe you,” Stiles complains as soon as Derek walks into the hospital room. “You guys told my fucking dad while I was too unconscious to argue with it?”

“Well telling the Sheriff that werewolves are real and that I’m the reason you got so hurt wasn’t my first choice,” Derek protests, dropping into the chair next to Stiles’ hospital bed. “But apparently becoming a True Alpha at seventeen doesn’t actually give you that many privileges. This is still my mom’s territory and it’s her choice I guess.”

“True Alpha, huh,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes as Derek flashes his red at him. “I’m sure that’s not going to go to your head at all. Whatever happened to that whole ‘Oh Stiles you can’t be an Emissary because I’m not an Alpha’ thing, huh.”

“Things changed,” Derek says, shrugging.

“Thanks, by the way,” Stiles says, looking away. “For, you know, uh, saving me.”

“I think you saved me first,” Derek points out. “And besides, who would do research for me, if you weren’t around anymore.”

“Oh is that why you’re keeping me around?” Stiles asks. “For research purposes? I thought maybe it was my badass mountain ash throwing skills.”

“Those weren’t too bad,” Derek admits, taking Stiles’ hand in his own. The unsettling buzzing from before is gone now, he thinks, now it’s more just a gentle hum of anticipation. “So does showing up and protecting me with mountain ash mean you’ll be my Emissary? It’s your choice.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure I made my choice back when I hounded you into stealing your mom’s books for me,” Stiles scoffs. “Like I’d let anyone else look after you. You’d get yourself killed. Dumbass.”

“Of all the people I could have developed an Emissary link to,” Derek says fondly, pressing his cheek to Stiles’ hand. “What did I do to deserve you.”

“Must’ve done something really good in a past life,” Stiles says. “Since you’re not that impressive in this one.”

“Yeah, must’ve. Well in that case, Emissary, if you’re fully on board, looks like we’re in it for the long haul,” Derek says, relief and anticipation pouring through his body, the link between them humming happily.

“Can’t wait,” Stiles says with a smirk. “Alpha.”

#sterek #derekstiles #my fic #sterekalphaemissary #sterekweek2017

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