Scott and Stiles McCall-Stilinski

[mccallstilinski]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Scott and Stiles meet for the first time

[mccallstilinski]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Scott and Stiles attend the Spring Festival to watch their daughter’s recital.

[mccallstilinski]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Stiles always gets morose around the anniversary, despite Scott telling him for the last 5 years that he doesn’t blame him for anything. Yes, it had been his idea to go and look for a dead body and yes it had led to Scott being bitten but nobody could have seen that coming and so how could Scott blame Stiles?

[toastybugguy]

a sciles from a post-canon AU… GOD I LOVE THEM

[carryonwaywardangel]

“Your hair is getting long.” Scott says, twirling a strand of it around his finger absently.

Stiles looks up at him from where he’s laying with his head in the wolf’s lap, and raises an eyebrow. “You’re just noticing that now?”

“No, I was just saying.” Scott shrugs and continues playing with Stiles’ hair, making it messier than it already was.

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” Stiles has been growing it out for the last year. Scott thinks it makes him look both hotter and softer.

“So you do like it?” From this angle Stiles can watch the blush cover Scott’s cheeks and spread down his throat. “You do like it!” A smirk slides on to his face and he sits up, turning to face Scott as he kneels on the couch beside him. “You like me a little dishevelled and overgrown, hm?”

Scott sighs through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at Stiles. “I like you comfortable and soft.”

The smirk on Stiles’ face melts in to a fond look. “Sap.” He accuses gently, cupping Scott’s cheek and meeting his eyes to check that he’s reading this right.

“Yeah, but only for you.” Scott’s answering smile is soft and warm and he leans in to the gentle hand on his face. Stiles closes the distance between them, allowing his eyes to fall shut as Scott’s do.

They’re both smiling a bit too much for it to be much more than a press of their lips, but it’s perfect. Stiles’ thumb gently traces the stubble on Scott’s adorable uneven jaw. Scott’s hands settle on his hips. Stiles pulls back and opens his eyes so he can watch Scott do the same, blinking adorably as the flush returns to his cheeks. Stiles wants to keep him forever.

Spoiler alert: he does.

[scilesweek]

One Week to Sciles Week 2023

Are you guys ready???

Just one week until Sciles Week will start, and so I will do a friendly reminder!

Our prompts are just suggestions, so, if none of them gave you the ideas, it's fine. If you still want to participate, you can mention us on it and tag #scilesweek23. We are here to celebrate all love for our two babies, and we can't wait to see all the amazing stuff you guys have!

See you soon, Sciles Enthusiasts!

[carryonwaywardangel]

It’s not dark any more. It’s the first thing Scott notices, and now he’s thought about it the place - he would say room, but he isn’t sure that’s what it is - fills with a light so bright his eyes hurt. This makes him aware that he has eyes, and that he can screw them shut to block out the light.

In what feels like a second, but could be ten minutes, the light dims and he cautiously opens his eyes.

Scott isn’t at all surprised to find himself in the Reserve, staring at the Nemeton. It looks the same as it always has; the scarred trunk of what was once a massive tree, roots still spreading in all directions. He knows on some level that this isn’t real. He knows that he’s dead; that his body is lying in the school library bleeding still, but this feels real enough. When he stretches out his hand the surface of the wood is rough beneath his palm.

“It’s not real.” The voice comes from behind him. A voice so familiar his heart clenches painfully, even though it’s been years since he’s heard it. He doesn’t turn around for a moment, unsure if he wants to look.

“I know.” Scott turns slowly in place, a jumble of emotions rushing through him as his eyes take in Allison. She looks almost exactly the way she did when she died; brown hair loose and wavy, green jacket, pink dress and black tights leading down to her boots. There’s a bow and quiver slung over her back and archery gloves on her hands. She smiles sadly at him, Scott can see tears in her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Allison takes a step towards him, her hand twitching up as if to reach for him but falling before she can.

“Neither are you.” If he hadn’t known he was dead, this would’ve convinced him. Scott takes a step towards her, reaches his hand out to touch her cheek. She feels solid, warm. Alive. A tear spills over, he wipes it away with his thumb. “I’m so sorry.” He feels tears fill his own eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault.” A shake of her head causes another tear to spill over. She covers his hand with her own where it rests on her cheek. Closes her eyes for a moment. Pulls his hand away from her face, tugs him over to sit on the stump side by side. “You shouldn’t be here.” She says again. “It’s not your time.”

Scott doesn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t hers either. He looks around again, noting that the part of the Preserve they’re in disappears in to mist about ten feet away in every direction. “Have you been here all this time?” He asks. It makes sense, that the Nemeton would keep a part of them even after death. They gave their lives to it.

“No, I don’t think so.” She’s holding his hand in both of hers, staring down at it like she expects it to disappear. “I’m not sure if I was somewhere else, or nowhere at all. But I haven’t been here.”

Scott nods, like that makes sense to him. He’s not sure he ever really believed there was anything after life, but it’s a nice thought. “What happens now?”

“You have to go back.”

“How?” He doesn’t ask why. He knows why. There is more work to be done. He could rant and rave about how unfair it all is, how he’s only a teenager and shouldn’t have to deal with it all, but it isn’t his way. It would be nice to stay here, with Allison, but there are people back home who need him. Mom, Stiles…Kira.

“I don’t know. But you don’t belong here, can’t you feel it?” There’s a resigned sadness in Alison’s voice, like she too had thought about him staying but knows he can’t.

“I don’t-” he begins, but he’s interrupted by a whisper of his name that echoes through the trees. “Did you hear that?”

Allison nods, her fingers squeezing his briefly. “That’s your cue, I suppose.” Someone calls again, louder this time. It sounds like his mom.

“Scott!”

“I don’t want to go.” Scott feels like a weight is crushing his chest, forcing the breath out of him. There’s blood in his mouth, covering his chest and he chokes on a pained sob. “Allison!” She’s suddenly ten feet away, still sitting on the stump of the Nemeton. He reaches for her and she stands, runs over to him where he lies on the floor and drops to her knees beside him. Cradles his head on her knees, presses a kiss to his cheek. “You have to live, Scott.” Scott grips her hand, but she feels less real now, colder. “It’s ok.”

“Come on Scott, roar!”

Suddenly he’s back in his body and he does. The sound is full of pain and anguish, it feels like it’s being pulled from him rather than something he’s doing by choice. When it’s over he lies panting on the floor and his mom pulls him to her, cradling him in her arms. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Scott takes several deep breaths, hiding his tears against his mom’s neck. “But you brought me back.” There’s a little bitterness in his voice, but nobody mentions it. There’s no time for that, he still has work to do.

[mccallstilinski]

“This is a terrible idea.” Stiles tells him, pulling a face that shows just how much of a terrible idea he thinks it is. Scott offers him a grin in return, the sun behind him making it seem as if he has a halo. Stiles thinks he should have horns instead.

“It was your idea.” Scott replies. Cheeky bastard.

“That’s irrelevant. Not all of my ideas are good ones.” They’re standing right on the edge of the cliff, looking down into the crystal clear waters below. Stiles’ stomach gives a lurch and his toes curl against the rock he’s standing on as if the grip will stop him from falling.

“We’ll be fine. I’m right here.” Scott extends his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. “Do you trust me?”

Stiles doesn’t hesitate, just threads his pale fingers with Scott’s and holds on for dear life. “You know that I do.” It doesn’t make him want to leap off this damned cliff any more, though.

“Don’t look down. Look at me.” Scott’s face is doing that thing where he wants to smile but is trying not to, he wants to appear serious and reassuring. Stiles hates that it works. “On the count of three. Ready? One,” Stiles takes a deep breath, “Two,” Scott’s fingers tighten around his own as he tenses, ready to jump. Stiles’ heart is in his throat. He fights the urge to close his eyes.

“Three!” In sync, as they always are, they jump. The air whips around them, stealing the breath from Stiles’ lungs as they plunge towards the sea. Scott’s hand is tight in his, he doesn’t let go even as they hit the water and it rushes up his nose. Stiles makes the mistake of trying to open his eyes underwater, but everything is dark and the salt stings his eyes.

He feels something tugging at his hand, then water rushing past as he’s dragged upwards, and finally he surfaces, coughing and spluttering. Scott still has hold of his hand, he’s grinning madly and his hair is plastered over his forehead at strange angles. Stiles wants to smack him, but he feels an answering smile pull at his face. “We’re never doing that again.” He insists, treading water to remain afloat. Scott’s smile doesn’t even falter, like he knows Stiles would follow him off the edge of the Earth if he asked. He’s not wrong.

He’s still holding Stiles’ hand when they emerge from the water a few minutes later, and he doesn’t let go. Stiles thinks maybe leaping off the cliff was worth it.

[destielblamscilesinfinity]

Sciles song of the day.