"Hello," he says softly, setting his fiddle down in his lap, not bothering to stand.
"Hi," Derek replies, half-gruff, then, because he should, "that was- that was beautiful but... you know this is private property, right?"
The boy throws his head back and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. The sound of it is overwhelming in its childish joy, and his eyes positively sparkle when they land on Derek again.
"Yes," he says, unashamed "I knew." Then he's standing, fiddle and bow in one hand, the other stretched out toward Derek, friendly and welcoming, "My name is Stiles."
[Or: The one where there's a fiddler, and two werewolves whose eyes flash blue, and a whole fucking world to conquer.]
Bookmarked by EpicMonsterIsMe
19 Apr 2021
"Take me away," Stiles breathes when Peter opens his door.
He's soaked through, heavy rain drumming against the stiff line of his shoulders, mud cached up his pants, his arms, teeth-clacking, bone-clinking shivers wracking harshly through him. He feels cracked open, desperate, hollow, and there's a tight, blistering ache in the back of his throat begging him to cry, to spill out all his secrets, his terror, his misery.
"Alpha," he murmurs, crumbling, nearly whisked away by the harsh winds, and Peter's eyes go molten, from ice to lava in a split second, the liquid magma in those irises so entrancing that Stiles, roughly, helplessly, raggedly, repeats what can only be a benediction, "Alpha."
Peter growls, rough and low, and drags him inside, shutting the door behind him a little gentler than he'd expect, but then, Peter is always doing things gentler than he'd expect.
He fucking drowned him gentler than he would've expected, and isn't that just... his life in a nutshell.
[Or: Peter is protective and violent, Stiles is fucked up but surviving, and they elope to canada to see the northern lights.]
"You think Derek's Scott's dealer?"
"Yeah," Jackson scoffs. "It's the only thing that makes sense— and even then. I know Scott's hiding something, Stiles, he's—he's cheating somehow."
"Okay," Stiles says, easy, with that glittering honey-soothe he always used to coat his voice in, when Jackson needed that, and the other boy's shoulders ease, some. "And if you figure out what he's hiding, Jax? What're you going to do then?"
"I'm going to do it, too," Jackson mumbles fiercely. "I'm going to do it better."
"Really? That's your solution? Someone else on the team gives you actual competition, maybe beats you a little, scores more points than you, you figure they must be doing drugs to accomplish this, and your first thought is: Oh, I should get on that incredibly unhealthy train, because that's a good idea."
Jackson turns toward him, mutinous and mulish, backs him up against the lockers, seething, "And what do you want me to do? Go to a therapist and, what, get fixed? There's nothing wrong with me, it's your friend who's using, I just want to level the playing field."
An AU in which Chris Argent found out about Kate’s plans to kill the Hales.
The nogitsune’s power doesn’t leave Stiles after the spirit is defeated. No, it seems Stiles was changing and knowing what that darkness did to his friends he refuses to put them in danger again. He leaves without a word. Now in a new city with not quite new friends Stiles realizes no one can run forever. Because family doesn’t back down and also, yeah, that fuckin’ tree really is talking to him.
Bookmarked by EpicMonsterIsMe
16 Apr 2021