Stiles seemed to draw himself up, for a moment he was the same boy who had looked at Peter's alpha shift and told him he wasn't scared. He'd been lying but Peter loved his tenacity.
"I need your help." he said, and for some reason there was absolute certainty that Peter would help him.
Either he was just that desperate or he needed help with something that he knew Peter would enjoy doing. Or maybe he had a tantalizing offer to exchange for Peter's help.
Stiles knows that it’s annoying to hear the tapping, or to watch him fidgeting, or to be distracted by the way he moves his hands around as he talks and rambles and the way his voice gets gradually louder and faster the more excited he gets about a subject— he knows.
He tries not to, he really does. He just can’t help it.
(or: five times isaac helps stiles with his anxiety, and one time stiles gladly returns the favour)
The treaty is signed while Stiles is being laced into his wedding corset. Ink splatters parchment as a maid pulls the ribbons, tighter and tighter. Stiles’ breath and future are taken away, all to save a village. He is a sacrifice more than a bride. The maid assists in fixing a choker around Stiles throat. Her hands are cold despite the roaring fire in the grate. The choker is a string of blood red rubies, they reflect the firelight with a wet shine like an open wound.
Prince Derek and Crown Prince Stiles have been betrothed since Stiles was a year old.
Unfortunately, Prince Derek has been living in the woods, as a wolf, for nine years.
Bookmarked by silvination
21 Feb 2019