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Derek met a mysterious girl after a negotiation for the pack.
Synopsis: And from the heights of the firmament, where the stars watch over the world of mortals, the Moon Goddess saw her.Blessed by Selene, Helena Stilinski carries the echo of an ancient myth—a flame reborn under the watchful eyes of the gods. With her, the legend of the Red Ladies rose from the ashes, rekindled in her blood and soul. Yet, her very existence defies the Order of Selene, a millennia-old institution that upholds the traditions of the Ladies and safeguards the secrets of the Moon itself.But when Derek Hale crosses her path, something happens—something that should not exist. A forbidden love is born, a flame dancing on the edge of a precipice. He loved her the way fire loves the wind, in a dance impossible to control. He is the shadow the flame instinctively recognizes, the wolf who should never dare to touch her.And she loved him back. Fiercely. Unruly.But Helena’s flames do not burn only the present; they illuminate a past that refuses to stay buried.Because this is not just Helena’s story. It is a legend that has been told before—and, like all legends, it is destined to repeat itself.The question remains: will she allow herself to be consumed by the fire, or will she defy the heavens for the man she loves?
Word count: 2.046
Warnings: Translated from portuguese using AI
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SILVER BLAZE - A TALE OF FIRE AND LEGEND MASTERLIST
TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST
Beacon Hills, Present Day
The bar was bustling. The music blended with the conversations of those present. The smell of cheap cigarettes and brandy invaded Derek’s nostrils, reminding him why he didn’t like places like this at all. The numerous new faces under the warm and relatively dim light of the bar were carefully analyzed by Derek, as he was looking for someone specific: a man with a dark bun, a beard, and a scar cutting across his face. Those negotiation moments were always tense for him, after all, besides potentially walking into a trap, there was always the possibility that the item being traded was fake.
The bartender placed a glass in front of Derek, giving him a friendly smile. Hale simply thanked him with a discreet nod and, taking the glass in his hand, sipped a small portion of the drink. Then he finally saw the man enter the bar. He was wearing a dark overcoat, had a stern expression, and carried a combination-lock briefcase. He had entered without looking at anyone and sat next to Derek, eyeing him up and down. He raised his eyebrows in a sign of disdain.
— I thought Talia would send her heir for the negotiation, not her middle son.
—Laura died in the fire, Nico. I’m the pack’s heir now. Did you bring what I asked for?
Nico Laskaris wasn’t just any hunter; he was also a renowned thief. That meant one thing: Derek had to be twice as careful with him. Laskaris was cunning and, somehow, always got what he wanted.
The hunter placed the briefcase on the counter. He typed the code into the lock, and a dry click sounded as the latches opened.
—And how’s your mother after the fire? It’s been years since I last saw her.
Derek crossed his arms, limiting his answer to what everyone already knew.
—She didn’t end up as bad as Peter, but it took her a good few years to recover. She’s still weakened, but strong enough to defend herself and continue leading the pack.
Laskaris didn’t need much to understand the veiled threat from Talia’s son. In fact, attacking the Hales wouldn’t be in his interest—at least not at that moment. He enjoyed negotiating with the Hales and intended to keep them as his trump card. In the great European monarchies, there was a well-established fact: kings and queens came and went, leaving only their legacy in the end. The dynamics of power were mutable and volatile, and time, the master of all, determined who would prosper and who would perish in the end. This was no different with the Hales, even with all the influence of the family’s matriarch.
It was a known fact that the Hales no longer had the same power and influence as before, and that not only made them easy targets but also meant they had to be twice as careful. Since the fire, Derek had learned the hard way how to keep his pack united. His survival—and that of his family—depended on it.
With that, Nico turned the briefcase and showed Derek its contents: an old book with a black leather cover, visibly worn, with the marks of time clearly present.
The smell of something ancient invaded Hale’s nostrils.
Nico gestured for Derek to take it, and after hesitating for a second, Derek pulled a pair of cotton gloves from his pocket to avoid damaging such an old material. He put them on and then took the book. Carefully, he opened it, and on the yellowed, thin pages that seemed like they would disintegrate at the slightest impact of Derek’s breath, he saw inscribed in red letters: "Elias Van Aken."
Derek wasn’t a historian, but from dealing with so many historical archives and documents, he somehow knew how to recognize whether something was authentic or not. That book—or rather, diary—dated back to the 18th century, and its appearance matched its age. If that diary was fake, it was a very good forgery.
The Hale heir looked up at Nico. Derek’s surprise was evident.
— Where did you get the diary of Alpha Elias?
Nico gave Derek a triumphant smile, his arrogance shining in all its glory. He crossed his arms.
— Sorry, man, I can’t reveal anything about my heists.
The Hale heir moved the diary’s pages with extreme care, as if holding something made of porcelain.
Nico put on his own gloves, which he had in his pocket. With them, he carefully turned a few pages and stopped at a specific one. There was a drawing of a woman.
— Here, consider this page as proof of authenticity. Well, you’ll have a bit of work translating this page from 18th-century Greek, but it’ll be worth it.
Derek raised his eyebrows.
— And what’s so important about this page?
"This page, my dear Hale, is nothing more than Alpha Elias’s record of a woman he met. He was at some bar in his pack’s territory, and he reports that he felt something different coming from her."
Hale still didn’t seem convinced. What was so fascinating about Alpha Elias meeting a pretty girl at a bar?
— I still don’t get it.
Nico adjusted himself in his chair. Then, the thief looked at him and, like someone sharing a secret, leaned toward Derek. Instinctively, Derek mirrored the movement—not that it was necessary, since his lupine hearing made the gesture pointless. But the anticipation of what Nico would say spoke louder.
— They say she was a Red Lady. He only saw her that one time, they spent the night together, and she never showed up again. Left the guy fascinated. Since then, Alpha Elias started traveling around Europe in search of information about her.
— Oh…— Now Derek understood.
According to the Brasa da Aurora poem, dated back to Ancient Greece, the First Ladies were women blessed by Selene, the Moon Goddess, tasked with guiding and protecting werewolves from any threat, ranging from hunters to other supernatural creatures.
Now he was more interested.
—And what did he find out?
— About her? Nothing. Not even the Selene Council has information about the Lady Alpha Elias met. As far as I know, while Selene’s Priestesses believe he actually found a Red Lady, the other Ladies leading the Council think he was just mistaken.— Nico let out a dry laugh, full of scorn. — Which is kind of obvious, if you think about it. Even the legends about Red Ladies have always been frowned upon, especially when they involve lycanthropes. The thing with this diary is simple: it has a lot of other information.
— Like what?
—Well…— Nico resumed his relaxed posture on the stool, leaning back. — There’s the basic stuff, like the fact that the Ladies are protectors and advisors to werewolves and, therefore, should remain neutral to avoid favoring any pack, information about the rarity of each Lady, with Air Ladies being the rarest and Fire Ladies being legends, and even information he discovered from within the Order’s Library. There’s stuff here that not even Selene’s Priestesses or the First Ladies know.
Derek stared at him, searching for any sign of lies because, even though he understood ancient artifacts, he wasn’t an expert. His ears, besides focusing on his words, also focused for a minute on his heartbeat, looking for the slightest sign of deception. He noticed nothing unusual.
Nico Laskaris was telling the truth, as crazy as it might sound to him.
The Hale heir nodded and, from the inner pocket of his jacket, removed a small cloth bag. The thief’s eyes lit up when he saw what Derek brought to the table. Nico gave a wide smile, eager for what Derek had brought.
— And speaking of Red Ladies…— Derek began, placing the bag on the counter. "I have these."
— Are these…
— Moonstones? Yes. They were used in Selene’s Priestesses’ rituals. I’m sure they’re worth a good amount on the black market.
Nico took the bag and quickly inspected its contents: several small silver stones that, strangely, seemed to emit their own light.
—Great, great!— The thief was in a sudden good mood. — What do you say, Hale? A fair trade?
— Yes. Fair.
Nico removed his gloves and gave Derek a firm handshake, sealing the deal.
—It’s always great doing business with a Hale. Make good use of the diary.
Nico stood up, leaving the counter and Derek alone. The older Hale removed a small velvet bag and a piece of paper from his inner pocket. As he was about to start packing the book, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Subtle enough that someone inattentive wouldn’t notice, but he wasn’t inattentive.
Hale looked to his left. Sitting at the opposite end of the counter was a young woman. She looked about his age, with long, wavy black hair and olive-toned skin that suggested she might have Latin roots. However, it was her eyes that caught his attention for a moment: they were a distinct shade of brown that, depending on the angle of the light, seemed slightly red. From her eyes, Derek’s gaze descended to her full lips, and then further down to her cleavage.
The Hale heir couldn’t control his own eyes, and he hadn’t even realized he’d lost control over them. The woman’s gaze was sharp and, at the same time, possessed a magnetism that Derek couldn’t pull away from.
She smiled at him.
—You know, if you try to look even more out of place, the bartender might kick you out for ruining the vibe of the place.
Derek raised his eyebrows but couldn’t help a half-smile, amused. So much audacity!
—Is it that obvious?
—Well, I mean…— She glanced at her own glass, running her index finger along the rim before reconnecting her gaze with his. Her tone was playful. —Usually people have fun in bars, you know. And they usually don’t bring books. Kind of a weird place to try reading a book, don’t you think?
Derek took the glass of his drink, finishing what was left. Then he wrapped the book in paper and placed it inside the small velvet bag. All while, of course, wearing a smile.
—Are you going to keep watching me like this?
—Oh, I wasn’t watching you. I was, uh…— She looked into the void, her expression thoughtful. The woman took her glass, sipping the contents before looking back at Hale. —Observing the furniture.
She smiled, clearly making no effort to hide that, yes, she had indeed been watching him. The conversation was, at the very least, interesting. The negotiations might have ended, but the hunt had just begun. Derek put away the gloves, took the velvet bag with the book, and, in a completely involuntary movement he hadn’t even felt himself make, took the stool next to her as his spot.
—’m sure you were.
—Hey, in my defense— She narrowed her eyes. —You were watching me too.
Derek’s eyes widened slightly, trying to disguise the obvious. Yes, he had been watching her. Every detail, for that matter.
—Me?
—Yes, you.
Most people hesitated when talking to him. He knew how they looked at him, as if they always needed to measure their words before responding. But she didn’t hesitate. Her analytical eyes studied him; he could feel it. Not just feel it, but recognize in her something he himself did. Derek did it for survival. She did it purely for the game.
He had to admit: he was intrigued.
Now that she was closer, Derek noticed that she not only had a slight Latin accent but also carried a familiar scent. It was faint, as if it hadn’t fully settled into her skin or clothes. But it was definitely there. But… whose or what scent was it? He couldn’t quite place it.
But one thing was certain: That girl wasn’t from around here.
—Well…— He leaned on the counter. —Maybe it’s mutual, then.
She let out a soft laugh, one that sent shivers down his spine. And not the bad kind. The woman tossed her long hair to the side, exposing her neck. Her smile made Derek’s heart skip a beat.
—I agree.— Her eyes moved to the velvet bag. —Are you a collector?
This was the part where Derek needed to be cautious. His muscles tensed. The woman seemed ordinary, and he didn’t sense any supernatural traces from her. Still, he couldn’t trust her. What if she was a hunter?
—Technically,— he said, glancing at the book. Derek was quick to come up with excuses. —I inherited a family collection of antiques, so I like to add to it from time to time. Are you into that kind of thing?
When he looked back at her, he noticed her expression had changed. She gave him a wide smile.
—Well… Actually, I’m an archaeologist. I specialize in Greco-Roman mythology at the University of Athens. I’m not an expert in artifact preservation, but I know a thing or two. If you keep that little thing there—She pointed to the velvet bag—wrapped in paper, it’ll last a while. But you need to climate-control the place where you’ll keep it and be careful with the humidity level, so the paper doesn’t weaken.
Derek pulled one corner of his mouth into a soft smile, looking at the woman. She smiled back at him.
—Looks like it’s my lucky day.
Something in her eyes changed. Something almost primal, causing the air in Derek’s lungs to escape for a millisecond.
—Well, it looks like you now have the perfect excuse to ask for my number.
Derek let out a soft, amused laugh. Yes, he did.
—Actually, it’s the perfect excuse to take you to my place. You know, I’ll need help with this.
Derek gestured to the wrapped book with his head. The woman laughed back.
—Of course, of course.— Then she looked him deep in the eyes, her gaze like burning embers. Her look was full of implications. Derek, of course, was quick to understand. —It’ll be a pleasure to help you with the book.
And with that, the two knew the obvious: The night would be interesting. And eventful.
Dila Erdem summons her granddaughter, the apprentice Priestess Bonnie Ierophanis, to entrust her with an important mission.
Synopsis: And from the heights of the firmament, where the stars watch over the world of mortals, the Moon Goddess saw her.
Blessed by Selene, Helena Stilinski carries the echo of an ancient myth—a flame reborn under the watchful eyes of the gods. With her, the legend of the Red Ladies rose from the ashes, rekindled in her blood and soul. Yet, her very existence defies the Order of Selene, a millennia-old institution that upholds the traditions of the Ladies and safeguards the secrets of the Moon itself.
But when Derek Hale crosses her path, something happens—something that should not exist. A forbidden love is born, a flame dancing on the edge of a precipice. He loved her the way fire loves the wind, in a dance impossible to control. He is the shadow the flame instinctively recognizes, the wolf who should never dare to touch her.
And she loved him back. Fiercely. Unruly.
But Helena’s flames do not burn only the present; they illuminate a past that refuses to stay buried.
Because this is not just Helena’s story. It is a legend that has been told before—and, like all legends, it is destined to repeat itself.
The question remains: will she allow herself to be consumed by the fire, or will she defy the heavens for the man she loves?
Word count: 2.027
Warnings: Translated from portuguese using AI; This is the only chapter written in a poetic way <3
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
NEXT CHAPTER
SILVER BLAZE - A TALE OF FIRE AND LEGEND MASTERLIST
TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST
— Have you seen Isolde? But who is she?
Dila walked briskly toward the ruins of the Temple of Artemis, having just parked her car. Beside her was a girl with voluminous curly hair that, left loose, gave her the grace of the most beautiful of angels. She was confused, and in the throes of adolescence, still had much to learn—both about life and the supernatural world. Her feet moved hurriedly behind Dila.
Bonnie Ierofanis could be proud. Dila Erdem was her grandmother, and, it must be said, an extremely wise and respected priestess. Although her Greek-descended family lived in California, Bonnie’s mother had grown up right there, in Selçuk. Just as Bonnie was doing now, her mother had joined the Order to become a priestess—after all, they came from a millennia-long lineage of women who had always passed down this tradition. With Bonnie, it would be no different, and she would serve this purpose with honor. She was determined to make her family and ancestors proud.
Dila and Bonnie crossed a green area filled with columns twisted by the passage of time. The parking lot was beginning to fill up, which meant more tourists were arriving to take photos with the temple ruins.
— Isolde lived in Celtic Ireland. I know that the records we have about the red ones are usually archives translated by other priestesses, but with Isolde, we have even less historical documentation than usual. Fire didn’t manifest in her as a destructive force, but rather as a force of life. Legends say her flames never burned without reason. She eventually became a kind of healer and spiritual guide for the werewolves in her region, and her importance was such that they saw her as an envoy of Selene herself.
The two climbed the ancient temple stairs, walking hurriedly between the columns and heading toward a restricted area. There, Dila and Bonnie descended another small staircase and walked to the side of the stone foundation. Dila pushed a small rocky plate on the foundation, and a passage opened, revealing a staircase leading underground, illuminated only by the light of torches and fire. The two began to descend as the secret passage closed behind them. Bonnie listened attentively to her grandmother’s words. She loved the moments when Dila shared ancient stories with her, just as she had done when Bonnie spent her summer vacations in Turkey with her.
— Things started to get complicated when Isolde fell in love with a werewolf—and not just any werewolf. His lineage traced back to the times of the first werewolf, Lycaon, who had been cursed by Zeus. Because of his lineage, even the other werewolves didn’t see him in a good light. To Isolde, he was just a man without a choice.
At the bottom of the staircase, a grand stone hall rose, with ancient columns reaching up to the ceiling. It was tall, majestic, and clearly very old. On the opposite side of the stairs, there were three wooden doors with carvings reminiscent of the moon, and a grand iron gate. Dila exchanged smiles with the few priestesses present, pausing her storytelling for a moment. Then, she guided her granddaughter to the third wooden door on the right. Upon opening it, they entered a large library with various sections of papyri and ancient books, alongside newer ones. As she listened to her grandmother tell the story, Bonnie looked around at the grand library. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how many centuries of history those shelves held. It was fascinating, and entering that place never lost its charm for her.
— And you know, the Ladies cannot get involved in that way with any werewolf. The Order had discovered the two of them, and so they offered Isolde a choice: either she renounced the love of her life, or she would face the consequences in a tribunal. Isolde, of course, refused. The two fled to the far north of Ireland in an attempt to escape the Order. They say that on the winter solstice, the sky lit up in scarlet flames, and the moon disappeared for three nights. Some say they were hunted down and burned by the Order itself, which I honestly wouldn’t doubt could have happened. Others say Selene took pity on them and turned them into a constellation, so they could be together for eternity.
The two sat at a wooden table, facing each other, separated only by the table. Bonnie’s eyes sparkled with the story.
— Ah, wow! — she sighed, a silly smile on her lips, her youthful innocence shining through —How beautiful, and how tragic. But I don’t understand what this story has to do with your dream.
Dila looked at her granddaughter and leaned slightly toward her, arms resting on the table.
— Over the centuries, some travelers have reported something: on certain nights, atop some Irish cliffs, they say you can see a woman dancing under the full moon, surrounded by flames. They say it’s Isolde waiting for her lover. The thing is, I saw her in my dream. Yesterday was the winter solstice. I saw the sky in flames. I saw First Ladies dancing around the fire, and I saw Isolde on top of a cliff. And it doesn’t end there. — She straightened up on the bench, preparing to speak as Bonnie grew increasingly apprehensive —I saw a red one. She was turned away. The other First Ladies stopped dancing to look at her.
Bonnie swallowed hard. She might have been a novice in the Order, but she knew what the red ones were.
— Do you think Selene showed you the coming of a red one?
A brief silence filled the room. Dila’s eyes wandered aimlessly, as if deep in thought. Finally, she looked at her granddaughter and concluded,
— Yes. Yes, I do. But I don’t think that was the only message. On one side of the bonfire were the Ladies of air, earth, and water. They all stared at the red one, who stood on the other side of the fire. But the red one didn’t look back. She was turned away. That means something: it means this red one won’t be with the Order. Perhaps she’ll oppose us. I think the position of the other Ladies suggests they’ll be keeping an eye on the red one, but the red one won’t know—or at least, she won’t care. And as for Isolde… well, perhaps her figure says something about this particular red Lady.
To Dila, her interpretation made sense. The positioning of the Ladies in the dream, the symbolism… everything told her that chaos would soon descend upon the Order. The question that remained at that moment was: Should Dila tell the others and warn them about what was to come? Should she wait for the right moment to share this kind of concern? Or should she tell everything, including her interpretation of the dream?
Despite all her years of experience in the Order, Dila had never encountered anything even remotely similar to that dream or the current situation she found herself in. She was certain that something monumental had fallen into her hands, and she needed to think carefully. Her granddaughter, though she had only been in the Order for a short time, also understood the weight of that vision.
The library fell into silence, as if both were pondering what to do. Bonnie’s gaze wandered around the room, restless, much like her thoughts. Then, she looked at her grandmother.
— Listen: I know it’s your duty to report every vision you have to the Order. But do you really need to share this one?
Dila looked at her granddaughter with a distinct glint in her eyes. In that moment, she was certain that Bonnie was truly her blood.
— Ah, my love… — She gave a slight smile to the younger girl — I don’t always share. That’s why our role requires so much trust. I understand your concern.
— Bringing this information to the Order without the slightest clue about the location or identity of this Lady will cause widespread chaos. And maybe this Lady isn’t a threat. We can’t put a target on someone’s head when we don’t even know them. Maybe she’ll just choose a different path.
Dila nodded. That was exactly why she had called her granddaughter before anyone else in the Order. Bonnie might have been young, but her mind was sharp and quick. She knew her granddaughter wouldn’t bend to every command of the Order and would act in the shadows if necessary to do what was right and just. This ability to discern, however, wasn’t common among all priestesses. Being part of the Order blinded many of them, and Dila was certain her granddaughter wouldn’t be one of those girls.
— I think our thoughts are aligned, — Dila said in a lower tone as she saw the library door open. A young group of priestesses had entered, but they weren’t paying attention to the two. Still, caution was necessary — You’ll be the only one who knows about my vision. But I’ll need your help as my primary agent. I can’t investigate as much as you can, Bonnie. I’m old, and my face is known here. I need you to go where I can’t, and I need you to always be alert to every new Lady who joins the Order, especially those who haven’t yet discovered their element. And most importantly: don’t tell anyone, not even your mother.
Bonnie swallowed hard and nodded. She was the granddaughter Dila had the most contact and connection with, and Bonnie loved her grandmother with all her heart. However, when it came to the Order, family ties had to stay outside the temple gates. It was the best way to keep things separate between family and duty, even though her family was the embodiment of duty and honor to the goddess herself. Precisely for this reason, the news that Dila would keep this secret with Bonnie hit the younger girl like a bombshell.
It had only been a few months since Bonnie had moved to Turkey to be trained and follow in her family’s footsteps. She wasn’t just young—she was still learning so much, especially now. And despite her short time in the Order, the fact that Dila trusted her with a secret of such magnitude was also a burden to bear. Dila wasn’t just her grandmother; she was an important figure within the Order. Because of this, everyone looked at Bonnie’s mother—and now at her—with great curiosity. Would they live up to Dila’s legacy? Would they be as capable as her mother and grandmother?
It was a great honor to be entrusted with the secret and mission to investigate the red one. But it was also a great weight and responsibility.
— But when we find out her identity?
— Then we’ll tell. But not before we know if she’ll truly be like Isolde or if she’ll become corrupted.
Bonnie nodded again, now determined. She was willing to see this through, make her family proud, and also follow her grandmother’s legacy: to be a just priestess.
The Goddess has a message for Dila Erdem, her devoted priestess in the Order of Selene: a vision of what’s to come. Something immense looms on the horizon, and the thought of it fills her with dread.
Synopsis: And from the heights of the firmament, where the stars watch over the world of mortals, the Moon Goddess saw her.
Blessed by Selene, Helena Stilinski carries the echo of an ancient myth—a flame reborn under the watchful eyes of the gods. With her, the legend of the Red Ladies rose from the ashes, rekindled in her blood and soul. Yet, her very existence defies the Order of Selene, a millennia-old institution that upholds the traditions of the Ladies and safeguards the secrets of the Moon itself.
But when Derek Hale crosses her path, something happens—something that should not exist. A forbidden love is born, a flame dancing on the edge of a precipice. He loved her the way fire loves the wind, in a dance impossible to control. He is the shadow the flame instinctively recognizes, the wolf who should never dare to touch her.
And she loved him back. Fiercely. Unruly.
But Helena’s flames do not burn only the present; they illuminate a past that refuses to stay buried.
Because this is not just Helena’s story. It is a legend that has been told before—and, like all legends, it is destined to repeat itself.
The question remains: will she allow herself to be consumed by the fire, or will she defy the heavens for the man she loves?
Word count: 634
Warnings: Translated from portuguese using AI; This is the only chapter written in a poetic way <3
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
NEXT CHAPTER
SILVER BLAZE - A TALE OF FIRE AND LEGEND MASTERLIST
TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST
Selçuk, Turkey - Winter Solstice, 2005
The icy wind cut through Dila Erdem’s skin like sharp blades, and the loud creak of a door forced her eyes open. The warmth of her blankets was gone. The sky was a deep black—no moon, no stars. The world around her was shadow and silence, yet somehow, she could still see… as if an invisible light followed her. The ground was covered in shallow water that soaked her cloth slippers. Darkness surrounded her, yet she could see herself clearly. Were the stars illuminating her, perhaps?
Dila adjusted her robe, took a deep breath, and smoothed her white hair with her aged, wrinkled fingers. Her hands trembled, and a nervous knot tightened in her chest. She had been in this game long enough to know: Selene, the moon goddess to whom she had pledged loyalty in her youth, had a message. And whenever the goddess spoke, something monumental was on the horizon.
The Priestess of Selene looked around and saw only an old, gray door floating in the air. She hated the door. Every time she opened it, she encountered something bizarre. Why would this time be any different?
Hesitant, Dila walked to the door, reached out with a shaky hand, and opened it. To her surprise, she found herself in a dense forest at night. The distant beat of a drum echoed, and the scent of damp earth filled the air. She stepped through the door and followed the sound, ignoring the rustling of nocturnal animals. Facing such visions—strange, often terrifying—was the burden of her role. As the Voice of Selene, it was her duty to relay the goddess’s messages—or conceal them if necessary.
As she neared the drumming, her stomach grew colder. The icy wind pierced her robe, and the full moon above shone brighter and larger than ever, as if Selene herself were watching. The drumbeats grew louder, accompanied by the chants of women. She recognized the hymn—a worship ritual for the goddess. In the distance, she saw a flickering light and a group of women singing with conviction and passion.
When Dila finally approached, she saw three girls in flowing, ceremonial peplos, each adorned with a golden belt. They wore green, blue, and white. Dila knew what they were and whispered under her breath:
— Selene's Ladies.
They danced in coordinated movements, their steps precise and graceful. Dila circled them unnoticed, searching for clues. Then she saw it: they stood on a cliff. Below, a raging sea crashed against rocks. Across from them, a higher cliff loomed, and the moon positioned itself perfectly behind it, revealing a sight that took Dila’s breath away.
Just as the legends described, the sky erupted in flames. The moon seemed to vanish, and within the fire, a figure danced, commanding the flames as they swirled around her like a child dancing with its mother.
— Isolde.
Dila turned back to the dancing Ladies, her heart pounding, hands trembling in awe. When she looked again, they had stopped, standing side by side. Across the fire, a new figure appeared—a Lady in red, her back turned. She wore a tall, pointed golden crown, her crimson robes flowing in the breeze. Her ebony hair cascaded down like a waterfall.
Dila gasped: a Red Lady.
This couldn’t be real. Red Ladies were myths! There had been no sightings for centuries, and the few records were unreliable—translations of translations from a time when myth and reality were deeply intertwined. Why was she dreaming of one now? Was Selene warning her of a Red Lady’s return after so many centuries?
As Dila stepped closer, hoping—and dreading—to see the Lady’s face, a chill swept over her. A force pulled her back.
She opened her eyes.
She was back in her room, lying in bed. It was 8 a.m. on a Saturday. She didn’t need to go to the Temple of Artemis until the evening, when the Order would gather to discuss politics, as always. But Dila didn’t care.
She needed to go to the library. And she needed to go now.
Silver Blaze – A Tale of Fire and Legend Masterlist
And from the heights of the firmament, where the stars watch over the world of mortals, the Moon Goddess saw her.
Blessed by Selene, Helena Stilinski carries the echo of an ancient myth—a flame reborn under the watchful eyes of the gods. With her, the legend of the Red Ladies rose from the ashes, rekindled in her blood and soul. Yet, her very existence defies the Order of Selene, a millennia-old institution that upholds the traditions of the Ladies and safeguards the secrets of the Moon itself.
But when Derek Hale crosses her path, something happens—something that should not exist. A forbidden love is born, a flame dancing on the edge of a precipice. He loved her the way fire loves the wind, in a dance impossible to control. He is the shadow the flame instinctively recognizes, the wolf who should never dare to touch her.
And she loved him back. Fiercely. Unruly.
But Helena’s flames do not burn only the present; they illuminate a past that refuses to stay buried.
Because this is not just Helena’s story. It is a legend that has been told before—and, like all legends, it is destined to repeat itself.
The question remains: will she allow herself to be consumed by the fire, or will she defy the heavens for the man she loves?
Pairings: Stilinski! original character x Derek
Warnings: English translation made by AI; The prologue is the only one written this way!; TALIA HALE IS ALIVE IN HERE <3
0. PROLOGUE: EMBER OF DAWN
1. SPARK
2. HERITAGE
3. ASHES
4. FORBIDDEN (COMING SOON)
Here lies the beginning of everything. Witness the story of Calista, Ember of the Dawn, the first before all other Ladies of Selene.
Word count: 1.073
Warnings: Translated from portuguese using AI; This is the only chapter written in a poetic way <3
NEXT CHAPTER
SILVER BLAZE - A TALE OF FIRE AND LEGEND MASTERLIST
TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST
Oh, Lady of the Moon! Oh, Selene, who makes the night your dwelling!
You, oh Merciful Mother of the Night, who crowned us with a gift,
Receive from your daughter the message meant for your other daughters;
Your will inscribed! Your voice and your sorrow made eternal here!
May your voice travel through the ages, may your will be made immortal,
For your daughters and your servants; and may it be vital to them.
Oh, mighty Goddess! May the lament of your firstborn be eternalized
And may it be an ember; may it be light! May your bloodied heart be soothed
From the barbarity that was done to you, from the pain that consumed you.
Oh, Callista! First of your name, your sorrow echoed throughout Olympus!
In the heart of the Daughter of Athena, the forbidden was born,
And to her, all honor and grace!
But reject it, my sister! Reject it!
Free yourself from this love that condemns!
Free yourself from this impure one! Cursed one!
You, who for the condemned Aristaeus of Lycaon was undone,
He, who by the brilliance of a thousand stars in your eyes was remade
From your ruins, your solitude, and your lament.
You, daughter of Athena, once strong as the columns of the Temple,
Were shaken, and your soul burned like fire
For the man and the beast entwined in a single flesh!
For the Heir of Lycaon!
But fate was relentless and cruel,
And Death, with its iron hand, descended upon Aristaeus.
Your executioner was the blood of Callista, your brother in a fatal blow!
The Condemned Blood ran through the sacred ground in a deadly loss.
Your eyes sought Callista’s one last time
And in pure love, they were undone one last time.
"Understand, my sister, understand!" the assassin pleaded.
"The creature of the night is incapable of love!
You, in your infinite benevolence,
Gave the beast what it can never have!
Within the cursed one, there is only decay!
You, oh beloved sister, in your youthful innocence,
Shall be cursed by Zeus!
Today the Gods weep in abysmal lament
For their lost daughter, defiled by a trivial love!"
The divine daughter of the sacred city, oh Callista, lost her love,
In her eyes, tears of fire.
Her heart yielded space to overwhelming pain.
Longing took hold—immortal, implacable!
Her soul now condemned to eternal suffering!
Her lament shook Olympus, invading the ether!
Cursed be Eros, who with his arrow sentenced you
To the Son of Ruin! To the descendant of the wrath of the Gods!
As the wind loves the fire, he loved you, sorrowful sister,
You found Aristaeus in terrifying darkness,
And yet, as one, you chose to burn
Between the shadows and the moonlight.
Callista, oh poor sister, condemned by the flame that should not burn,
Ran to the heavens, pleading! For your pain, you surrendered.
"Oh endless night! Indifferent stars, shining in the firmament,
Hear my lament! Hear my voice in piercing sorrow!
Listen, oh witnesses of those who suffer,
To the wail that rips through the wind, and please do not delay!
Oh spirits! Oh any force that hears me!
Any force beyond the darkness!
Spare me, spare me! Do not blame me!
For if loving him is a crime, then punish me!
But rip from me this sorrow
That tears my soul apart, that devastates me with such rigor!"
And when the sky trembled and the muses wept,
And the stars looked upon Callista,
The world bowed and held its breath
For from the heights of infinity, Selene descended in answer.
And she took Callista, rare jewel of Athens, as her daughter,
And embraced her with her mantle woven of night, in all her glory,
With a whispering, gentle voice, speaking to her suffering child,
Oh Mother of the Night and Moonlight, with your infinite grace.
"My child, you who cry to the heavens,
To all Olympus and to my dames,
You, my child, who loved without fear, who lost without mercy.
You, in endless courage, though you suffer in lament,
I hear you, young child! Rise! Stand and be reborn from your ashes!
From the embers, make light; embrace your fire!
You, who defy your fate with your flame,
Then burn, oh Daughter of Sorrow, take the virtue of divine fire!
For your pain becomes your gift!
Become light, become a guide, and weep no more!
Bring light where there is darkness;
Be the flame that warms, that swallows the shadows!
For the divine fire now burns within you, oh Bearer of the Sacred Flame!
The Slaves of the Moon, bound by it,
Shall become mine! And you shall guide them, you and your sisters, oh Daughter of Fire!
My voice is heard, and so I command.
The Condemnation is eternal, but I shall grant my children
An anchor in the moon, to bind the beast within.
Upon the moon, they shall weep! Weep in honor of their Mother of the Night!
Weep in the name of she who places the stars in the darkness,
For your burden is eased, your suffering softened.
And my Dames shall walk the earth with blessings and virtues,
Each different, and may they never judge you,
For they shall guide your paths and spread my word."
Within her, the warmth expanded,
Ran through her veins, and Aphrodite watched from the heavens
The birth of the First whom fire could not consume.
She shone without fear; she burned without pain,
And from her ember, an inferno arose without the slightest sting!
"To the Ember of Dawn, my sweet daughter Callista,
I say: you shall have more sisters!
For others will come, carrying my spark,
And to the Condemned, they shall give counsel!
Where storms rage, a breath of Air shall come,
And in furious rivers, the Water shall embrace.
There shall be fertility in barren Earth,
And Fire shall illuminate the darkness!
My condemned ones!
Cover yourself with my mantle, sweet cursed child,
And adore my silver light! Grieve no more!"
Reborn from chaos and pain, she walked, with her gift and all her fervor.
Olympus, in reverence to the Silver Goddess, fell silent.
The hunters trembled; the Sons of Lycaon found solace,
And the world bowed to The First of All.
The Flame of Dawn had been born,
And with it, her priestesses.
The Slave of the Moon was no longer banished,
For the stars now illuminated them with their silver light.
Things The Avengers Are NOT Allowed To Do - part one
a/n: hey guys!! my best friend (@hazydespair / @pitifulidiot) and I have teamed up together to bring you Things The Avengers Are Not Allowed To Do. We write these for our own entertainment and hope that you find some hilarity in them, too. Please follow Hazy’s account, as the second part will be published on her Tumblr! Thanks everyone! Enjoy!
• • • •
The Avengers Initiative states,
Upon becoming an Avenger, each party shall read over these guidelines and sign their name, stating that they hereby agree to the terms and conditions of the DO NOT's of being an Avenger. Shall a party break any of these rules, punishment is certain.
1. Bucky and Sam are not allowed to bully Peter while on missions, any other time is free game
2. No calling Bruce Shrek
3. No calling Loki Elsa
4. Scott and Phil are not allowed to sit and gush over Steve Rogers
5. Tony isn’t allowed to draw fake mustaches on Fury's photos
6. You can’t send T’Challa cat toys
7. Don’t ask Fury how many fingers you are putting up
8. Thor isn’t allowed to put his hammer in front of anyone's door
9. No cosplaying each other
10. Thor isn’t allowed to put his hammer in the elevator
11. No using Steves shield as a turtle shell
12. No putting Bucky and Sam in the get along shirt
13. Don’t ask Bucky for a hand
14. Helping Steve cross the road is not helping the elderly
15. Don’t ask Thor how high he can count
16. Don’t steal Peter’s lunch money
17. Don’t let Bucky use Steve's shield as a sled
18. Bucky and Bruce aren’t allowed to listen to heavy metal
19. No telling Thor that Jane dumped him, it makes him ‘salty’
20. Please don’t show up at Peter Parker's place of work or school
21. Don’t call Natasha momma spider and Peter baby spider
22. No more calling Tony, Tony Stank
23. Scott isn’t allowed to have insect fights with Peter
24. No asking Vision how his vision is
25. Stop asking Nick what is in his wallet
26. Don’t put a metal detector against Bucky's arm
27. Sam and Clint aren’t allowed to make bird noises at each other
28. Please stop putting googly eyes on pictures of Nick Fury
29. Please don’t take Thor to Halloween horror nights
30. Tony isn’t allowed to move the furniture slightly to the left so Pietro will run into it
This is it, everybody! Everything created for Hale Week will be linked in this post, so if you don’t see your work, please let us know so we can fix that. If at some point, you end up posting something you planned to create for this week or a companion piece to something you already posted and would like us to reblog it, be sure to tag us!
If you haven’t already, please fill out our End of Week Survey to tell us what you liked and didn’t like about this past week (themes, the time of year the fest runs, mod interactions, etc). It only takes a few minutes. This is for everyone to fill out, even if you didn’t create anything. You can find that survey here.
Thank you all so, so, *so* much for all of the amazing, awesome creations. We truly appreciate all the hard work that went into them. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next round!
Day One - Werewolf Traditions
Midnight Moon (Peter/Stiles, Derek) by @midmorning-bomb
Hale Appreciation Week: Werewolf Traditions (Derek, Laura) by @akinasky
The Matching - Lupercalia 1/3 (Laura/Lydia) by @jacyevans
DAY ONE (June 21) (Peter, Derek, Talia, Papa Hale, Laura [Explicit - See Warnings]) by @polemonium-writes
Day Two - Family, Found Family, and Brotps
All found family shows have: Hale Pack Edition by @msmischief101
DAY TWO (June 22) (Derek, Stiles) by @polemonium-writes
Oh Very Young (Peter/Stiles, Derek) by @midmorning-bomb
The Hale Pack + Pack Dynamics by @scerek
Hale Appreciation Week (Derek/Stiles, Hale Pack) by @akinasky
Peter, Noah, Claudia, Chris and Melissa went to school together by @for-the-love-of-wolves
Day Three - Rarepairs and Poly Ships
DAY THREE (June 23) (Cora/Stiles, Peter, Derek) by @polemonium-writes
The Mercenary, The Emissary, The Were-Coyote (Braeden/Malia/Marin) by @letskzuniversescreations
The Fox’s Game (Cora/Stiles, Peter) by @tarvera
I know I’m cheap but I’m sold (Chris/Derek [Explicit]) by @wolfflock
The Head, The Heart, The Hands (Boyd/Erica/Cora) by @letskzuniversescreations
Day Three (Derek/Peter/Stiles) by @mylittleangelxxx
It Really Is That Simple (Malia/Kira, Stiles) by @stacinadia
Hale Appreciation Week (Cora/Erica/Boyd) by @akinasky
Day Four - Full Moon
if the moon walks out (the sky will understand) (Derek/Stiles) by @iminsatiable
Sometimes I look at the moon and I think of you. (Derek/Stiles) by @spaceprincessem
Rather Stay (Peter/Stiles) by @midmorning-bomb
DAY FOUR (June 24) (Peter/Stiles) by @polemonium-writes
When the moon… (Derek/Stiles [Explicit]) by @wolfflock
Traditions (Derek/Stiles, Chris/Peter) by @for-the-love-of-wolves
Day Five - Hale Headcanons
I Don’t Hold A Grudge (Peter/Stiles, Derek) by @midmorning-bomb
DAY FIVE (June 25) (Peter, Talia) by @polemonium-writes
LGBTQA+ Series by @letskzuniversescreations
- Peter Hale - Pan + Polyam Flags
- Malia Tate - Aro Flag
- Derek Hale - AroAce Flag
- Post Fire AU - Derek and Laura run into Cora in NY
Derek Hale is related to soap star and sensate, Lito Rodriguez. by @wolfflock
Headcanons for Derek and Peter by @spaceprincessem
Hale Headcanons by @coline7373
- The Hales don’t celebrate Christmas. They celebrate Derek’s birthday. (Derek, Cora, Laura)
- What’s so special about the Camaro anyway? (Derek, Papa Hale)
Day Six - “I’ve waited three years. I could wait another hour.”
DAY SIX (June 26) (Peter/Stiles) by @polemonium-writes
Post Fire AU (Talia) by @letskzuniversescreations
Day Seven - Free Day
Play Out (Peter/Stiles, Derek) by @midmorning-bomb
DAY SEVEN (June 27) (Derek/Stiles, Twilight crossover) by @polemonium-writes
Sunset on beach vacation + texting (Derek/Stiles) by @coline7373
The Killer in Me is the Killer in You, a Derek Hale fanmix by @jacyevans
How’s that target on your back? by @letskzuniversescreations
teen wolf sorting meme » KATE ARGENT, alumna and inmate at azkaban
↳ “SLYTHERIN!”
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends
note bene 1: Declared guilty by the Wizengamot of arson and seven counts of murder after setting Hale Manor ablaze, Kate Argent is one of the saner prisoners at Azkaban. The Daily Prophet did an expose on the femme fatale, and though they didn’t get much out of her, they did manage to snag the quote, “You don’t have to be psychotic to be a killer.” She never explained her actions, and thus far, the Hales have feigned ignorance as to why the sister of such a prominent wizard, Chris Argent himself, would go after another high caliber wizarding family.
note bene 2: Allison Argent, Kate’s niece, still keeps in correspondance with her aunt. Chris, her brother, has cut all ties.
you're a new alpha conquering power at beacon hills
You were a legend. Your allies can be powerful with you. Your enemies? Well, the ones that have balls enough to defy you, have a death sentence. power is a thing that inebriates you. It's addictive. Now, your next step to be even more powerful is to have Beacon Hills under your high heels.
Being the main alpha in a city like that would give you all you want and a little bit more. However, you weren't counting on two factors: The Hale and the McCall pack.
Derek Hale and Scott McCall had heard a few stories about you. Terrifying ones. All those stories were all they needed to know about you: That you were dangerous and needed to be stopped.
This is the story of how you defeated both of the packs and turns your pack into the dominant one in Beacon Hills.
SPOTIFY LINK HERE
00:00 The beginning of your story
00:17 Everybody wants to rule the world by Lorde
02:44 Jungle by X Ambassadors and Jamie N Commons
05:51 Horns by Bryce Fox
09:25 The time is now by Atreyu
12:43 Supermassive Black Hole by Muse
16:11 Zitti e Buoni by Maneskin
19:23 Modo Turbo by Luísa Sonza, Pabllo Vittar, and Anitta
21:51 Feel the Fire by Pluko and Pronouncedyea
25:13 Play with Fire by Sam Tinnesz and Yacht Money
A couple of months ago, I asked my followers what kind of Avengers fan art they wanted to see from me and they voted at 81% for the “Medieval / Heroic Fantasy AU” option. Here’s the result, I hope you’ll enjoy it! A big thank you to @vegetamochi who came up with the title. (Nb: this is an art project, there’s no fic to go with it)
Only for fun.
Young Stiles meeting Derek, when he was a teenager, in a comic and book store. Derek is trying to act like a cool teen, helping Stiles to get a comic, wrong move Derek.
Sorry for my terrible english!
There is a greek proverb that people were created with two heads, four arms and four legs. And the gods, fearing their power, split them in two. Condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. And that’s where soulmates come from.
SYLKI WEEK
Day One - Soulmates
