#full shift wolves

[malicmalicwriter]

A pack of wolves

A pack of wolves by MalicMalic Rating: Teen and Up || Word count: 6.1k Pairing: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken

Summary:

There is a new threat on the horizon, one that nobody knows how to deal with. Fortunately, they get a little assistance from the future and in the process learn a few new things about each other.

Photo credit to the awesome @thiamsxbitch!! You ROCK!! 😘😘😘

Day 4 of @puppypackweek

[get-w-rec-ked]

Throw Me to the Wolves (13497 words) by skoosiepants Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey Additional Tags: Full Shift Werewolves, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Protective alpha Derek, Derek is a Good Alpha (Eventually), Everyone Is Alive, Scott is a good bro, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Consent Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, guilty pleasure fic, Hurt/Comfort, werewolf violence, Abuse, Alternate Universe Summary:

He feels the physical embodiment of devastated, his already too strung-out mind struggling to wall up all the hurt, the rejection—he takes a deep shuddering breath and looks down at the shredded skin on his arms, at the sluggish way they’re weakly healing.

There is nothing, nothing he wants more than to have Derek sweep in and make everything all better. He should have known, though, that something like that would never happen to him.

OR -

Stiles accidentally gets bitten, and everything goes to hell.

[satanxinxaxvneck]

The one who has guilt and the eyes of a good man wears black

The one who seeks revenge and has the eyes of Death wears white...

And yet... they are family despite being the polar opposites of the Phases of the Moon...

// image does not belong to me

[welshwoman1988]

Your Blood In My Veins - Just a taste...

Yay! A title!

The second part of @acollectionofsterek (aka @unelore aka Une!)‘s birthday gift! First part here!

Derek’s eyes narrowed at the pair in front of him, of the pain that he could practically taste in the air around them, Peter’s injury a faint undertone that he chooses to ignore for the time being…

The male’s offhand remark, complete with a smile that had barely any time to form before he was wincing in pain, had his companion shaking her head even as her body leaned closer to his and she barely flinched when Cora came up behind her on not-as-silent-as-they-could-be paws.

The man’s breath rattled in his lungs as he no doubt was going to launch into a long-winded explanation of why he and his companion were in their territory, but Derek interrupted him before he could get a word out with a brisk, “Do you need medical attention?”

Brown eyes blinked slowly at him before the man oh-so-eloquently muttered, “What?”

Derek frowns, not liking the time that elapsed between him asking the question and the answer he received. Yes, he could tell that the pair were supernatural, but not everything had the healing capacity that he and his kind did, and there were ways of keeping even their kind from healing fully.

Derek was well aware of the ways to draw out pain and the love of torture certain Hunters had, even though he was wary of whether these two would spell trouble for his pack later…

“You’re barely standing, even though there has been ample time for you to heal since we drove off the Hunters chasing you. Do you need any assistance purging your systems from whatever it was that is keeping you from healing?”

In response to his question, he gets a pair of incredulous stares pointed at him and uneasy rumblings from the rest of his pack. Granted, he is offering aid to unknown entities – one of which had already attacked one of them (then again, it was Peter, so she got a bit of a pass on that) – but something in his gut told him that these two needed his protection.

Needed him.

“No, we don’t need anything taken out… that’s part of the funny part…” The girl makes some sort of noise, a signal for her pair to stop stalling because the next thing Derek knows is that he’s now looking to a pair of red eyes – a slightly different shade than his own – and a pair of sharp fangs grinning at him.

“You’re vampires.”

His statement causes another rumble to travel through his pack, even as the woman glares at him and snaps, “Yes, and you’re all werewolves. Now that we’ve established our supernatural affiliations, can we get to the part where you tell us whether you’re going to rip our heads off or not?”

The male’s soft, “Lydia…” is almost lost to the answering snarls her demand stirs up, Cora being suspiciously silent behind her, and it takes Derek growling out a short, “Enough!” to get everyone to calm down.

“You have yet to tell me why you were being chased by Hunters. That will be the deciding factor on whether or not there will be any head ripping.”

There’s a snort behind him, probably from Erica, even as the male shakes his head and meets Derek’s gaze, teeth gone back to their human shape.

“It’s like you said, Alpha. We’re vampires. They didn’t need another reason.”

Derek frowns, eyes catching the way that the man in front of him seems to be swaying a little. “The Hunters in these parts have a Code-”

The female – Lydia – huffs at that, her white-knuckled grip on her companion the only thing that seems to be keeping her upright. “Yes, a Code that says to torture and maim all supernaturals, no matter if they haven’t done anything wrong, the disgusting, worthless-”

This time, it’s Scott that cuts her off, with an angry growl and a move like he’s going to attack her before Derek cuts him off with a harsh snap of his teeth. It doesn’t stop Lydia from crouching into a defensive stance, amber eyes glowing and fangs dropped as she snarls back, though.

Unfortunately, this has the side effect of her pair losing whatever it was that was keeping him upright, something that he makes known with a muttered, “Oh shit.” as he pitches forward.

“Stiles!”

Lydia makes to catch him, but her weakness makes itself known in the way that she stumbles and is too slow to halt her pair’s descent.

Derek, however, is not.

He isn’t even really thinking as he reaches out and catches Stiles – trying to ignore the part of him that is grateful the strange word that Lydia muttered when he showed up had been a name and not a curse - ending up with his arms around the man’s shoulders and Stiles’ face pressed into his neck.

There is a sudden inhalation from almost the entirety of those in the clearing and then a swift, shuddering silence.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice how tense it has become around him, or the fact that his fingers have clawed into Derek’s back almost as soon as he caught him. All he seems to be interested in rubbing his nose along the column of the neck in front of him and whispering, “You… you smell really good…”

Derek chances a quick look at Lydia, his grip reflexively tightening when he sees the despair in her eyes and the way she looks as if she wants to rip Stiles from Derek’s grasp. It’s a little surprising to also see that she has a hand gripped in Cora’s coat, but he doubts either of them are really in a state to notice right now…

“Stiles-”

“It’s been ages, hasn’t it, Lydia?” Stiles’ words are muffled, pressed into Derek’s skin with little licks and open-mouthed kisses, something that would be much more intimate in a different situation. “They used to tease us, offering an arm or a cut palm, just to see us writhe and scream…”

“This is another trick, Stiles.” Lydia’s voice is firm, and Derek would be pissed at what she’s insinuating if he couldn’t feel the graze of fangs against his neck at the next pass that Stiles takes. “You do this, and we’re both dead.”

“But he smells so good, Lyds. Like… like…”

“Please.” Derek startles a little when it becomes apparent that Lydia is talking to him now. “He was captured for longer than I was, he was protecting me, he doesn’t… please.”

It takes a moment to realize what she’s asking, but when he does, Derek has to fight off a shudder that he tells himself is revulsion, not anything else.

“I am not a meal to be handed out-”

“No, you don’t understand what this is at all!” Lydia’s gaze is furious, and it soothes something in Derek that this isn’t something to be taken lightly, or that Stiles was reacting like this because Derek just reminded him of a particularly juicy steak. “Think for a moment. Think if you had been cut off from the moon for days, months, even! Think of how you would feel to go from a darkened, bricked up dungeon room and then suddenly be thrown into a wide-open forest with a clear sky! What would you do?!?”

Derek swallows as Stiles’ actions are thrown into terrifying clarity for him, but he still pushes the man’s face away from his neck despite his protests.

That spot is too intimate, too much after a single meeting. He can’t allow that now, but he still needs to figure out who these two really are and what happened that drove them onto his land.

And if what they were saying about the Hunters was true, well…

It’s been a while since Derek himself really hunted anything.

Derek had pushed Stiles’ face away from him by pressing his hand against it, given how the other man had yet to release him, and he’s not sure which of them he surprises more when he says, “Bite me.” at the first tentative touch of Stiles’ tongue to his palm.

There is a sharp hiss somewhere as Stiles freezes, no doubt reminded of the times that he spoke of, of how this was a constant game with the Hunters that had them, but Derek hopes that it is different enough that he doesn’t refuse… although, a part of him is screaming that Stiles should refuse, that what he’s doing is crazy, that they don’t even know these people…

Derek mentally tells that part of himself to take a hike as Stiles finally releases him, only to grab ahold of Derek’s hand like he’s afraid Derek is going to rip it away from him and bring it up to his lips.

Just before he’s about to bite down, Stiles stops himself, body starting to tremble as he mutters, “Don’t hurt her. If... if this is a trick, it’s my fault. You- you can’t hurt her…”

Lydia makes a pained noise and tries to move forward again, only to completely lose her balance and practically collapse onto Cora’s form, his sister making a slight woof of discomfort before shifting her weight so that she’s completely supporting the other girl.

Taking a quick look around the clearing, Derek can see that most of his pack is still on the defensive, but not looking like they’re about to just up and attack the two of them anymore… Although Peter is managing to convey how he thinks that this is a stupid idea, even in wolf form.

Derek decides to just ignore him for now.

Shifting so that Stiles is practically cradled in his arms, Derek tries to ignore the conflicting feelings that this is evoking in him as he whispers, “No one is going to hurt either of you. This isn’t a trick. You’re safe, I promise.”

Stiles looks up at him at that, eyes a swirling mixture of gold and ember as he seems to search Derek’s face for something – a lie, the truth, something that could give him a clue one way or the other – and Derek tries to stay as still as he can as the minutes tick by.

Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, Stiles nods once and bites down hard.

[frosthexe]

The Boy and the Beast - Dira Sudis (dsudis) - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

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

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

[frosthexe]

I've Got A Sure Thing - skoosiepants - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

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

Stiles's water breaks ten miles outside of Beacon Hills.

[misfitmonarchy]

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

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Parrish, Sheriff Stilinski Additional Tags: Hale family fire, in the preserve, Wolf Derek, Wolf Derek Hale, Full Shift Werewolves, Photographer Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - College/University, the jeep breaks again, soft, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, anxiety attack, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Panic Attacks Series: Part 1 of Tumblr Drabbles Summary:

Stiles is a in the preserve taking pictures, a hobby he's been neglecting in favor of his studies; when he encounters a wolf.

[misfitmonarchy]

What Bright Eyes You Have, Mr. Wolf.

The accident wasn’t his fault. If there was anything he could stand by, it’s that he was a good driver. With Sheriff Stilinski for a father, Stiles had been drilled into being a conscientious driver since the moment he was allowed to sit behind the wheel. It didn’t hurt that the deputies got their kicks out of pulling him over almost every time they saw him out driving that first year.

Constantly thinking your dad’s deputies were going to catch you speeding or doing stupid stuff tended to make a guy paranoid. 

Therefore this? This? Was most definitely not his fault. The jeep was nestled against a tree where it had just brushed the trunk, luckily he hadn’t crashed the vehicle when the steering had given out and he’d had to use his e-break to stop from veering off the trail. Of course the one time she breaks down would be when he’s in the preserve. 

“Great. Just fucking great.” He wasn’t mad at the jeep, it wasn’t her fault. She was getting up there in age, it had been his mom’s car after all. Even when she had it the jeep had been a fixer upper. Then again, so was Stiles. They made a good pair. 

Stiles was a photographer, and had been thinking that the preserve would be a good spot for some shots, seeing as not many people came this far out. He’d entertained the idea of maybe even visiting the old Hale house, only a burnt out shell now unlike it had been when he’d been much younger. Stiles doesn’t really remember the family all too well but his dad told him once or twice about visiting them there for a cookout because Talia Hale used to be a lawyer. 

All he really knew about it was that it had burned down one day and that their teacher had told them Cora Hale was in a better place now. She had always sat at near the windows in his class. From what he remembered, which wasn’t much because this had been before he’d been diagnosed with ADHD; she had been nice. There had been many tears in class that day, but the funeral had been private and the only surviving members moved away immediately after. 

Stiles understood completely, when he’d lost his mom he’d tried to run away because he kept thinking every woman with dark hair coming around the corner was her. He couldn’t imagine magnifying that feeling to eleven. He turned off the jeep and climbed out to assess the damage.

He heaved a sigh as he got out, checking over the jeep as if that would magically fix it. Seeing as Stiles was already out here, so he grabbed his camera and decided he might as well get what he came out here for. Before leaving the jeep though, he called his dad. 

“Hey kiddo.” When he picked up, the Sheriff sounded surprised. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today, everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand over his face as he willed the jeep to fix itself with a long stare. 

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?” His dad knew him too well.

“That’d be because there is. I am fine, but the jeep’s steering went.”

“St-”

“I’m fine.” He reiterates because knowing his dad, the man won’t believe him until he can see for himself. 

“-iles.” Dad continues over him. “I told you to get it checked out before going out there. You’re lucky you aren’t wrapped around a tree.” And yeah, okay that was fair. 

“Did you miss the part where I told you I’m fine?” 

“Did you miss the part where you almost crashed your jeep in the preserve? Alone?” 

No, he hadn’t missed that part. But making it into a big deal wouldn’t make the bearings fix themselves. “I’m sorry.” Stiles says quietly, knowing that the anger in his dad’s voice is really just concern in disguise. Stilinski men didn’t really talk about feelings, they had more of a ‘ignore it until it goes away’ philosophy for the most part. 

“I’ll send someone out to pick you up. Where are you?” 

Stiles lets out a choked out laugh, which makes his dad sigh. But really, there aren’t any signs in the preserve- how would he know exactly where he was? “Listen, I’ll be fine for now, I know my way out and if I need to I’ll just walk home.” Not that he wanted to, it had been a thirty minute drive to get to where he was, it would be a bitch to walk home in the summer heat. 

“No no, I’m going to send Parrish to go pick you up, just keep to the main trail. You did stay on the main trail, didn’t you?” The suspicion in his tone, asking for confirmation that he actually followed the one request he’d been given this morning, would have been a bit offensive if not Stiles’ track record. He had a tendency of finding himself on the opposing end of his dad’s rules a few too many times to have a right to be offended when he was doubted at this point. 

He’d even been locked in the holding cells at the station a few times before his dad had realized he was using that as an excuse at school to not do his homework. 

“Yeah, Dad. Scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Only because they kicked me out.”

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised, most people don’t appreciate it when you burn down their tent.”

“Okay, but it was an accident!” 

His dad knows better than to try an argue, because its obvious that Stiles is right (it’s not like he threw a flaming a marshmallow on purpose okay?) so all he gets is a heaving sigh on the other end of the line. They end the call when Stiles is forced to promise that he really is going to stick to the main trail while taking his pictures and waits for Parrish to come rescue him and his Jeep.

The preserve is a gorgeous place, a canopy of green shelters out most of the sun, filtering through enough light that it’s not too dark to see but still provides shade. He should be grateful the Jeep didn’t give out in the middle of the street, the summer sun would have cooked him alive if he had to wait for someone to pick him up. A blessing in disguise then. 

Stiles takes his camera, placing the strap around his neck and holding it gently with one hand so it won’t swing as he walks. He’d started to really get into photography when he’d seen the crime scene photographers cataloging a robbery one time when he’d come with his dad to work. After his mom had died he’d done that for a while. 

He’d stuck to his dad like glue for those first few months until Melissa had coaxed him into staying at their place with Scott more often then not after that. And well- he still was a bit clingy to his best-friend. 

Scott- who he would have called to rescue him if he wasn’t busy with his schoolwork. Though they were both attending university, Scott had also signed onto a bunch of committees and had decided to just stay at the school dorms for the summer. Stiles on the other hand, had come home for the summer and planned on getting a summer job. Only- the job part hadn’t happened so here he was, the first week of July and focusing on his photography he’d been neglecting since September due to being busy with his studies. 

It felt good to have the camera in his hands again. It was a familiar and grounding weight around his neck that helped him express himself in a way he’d never expected to. When he’d first gotten into the hobby he hadn’t expected himself to have enough of an attention span for it to last, throughout most of his life Stiles had gone through several phases- none of them had lasted other than lacrosse and photography. 

Photography helped him say things he didn’t have the words to. Could force someone to see from his perspective when all else failed to show it from how he saw things. It was a soothing practice if nothing else. 

The ground is covered in leaves, forgotten pine needles and groupings of ferns that have been scoured away from the main path. It wasn’t quite what you’d call a road, for the most part it was still too over grown. But enough people had come and gone through it time and time again to the point that you could follow it well enough. The Jeep fit perfect for these roads, small enough and equipped for the rougher terrain- despite that, Stiles always cringes over every bump on the road. 

He gets a shot of Jeep, pulled up by the tree he’d nearly hit and dirt giving her a dusty look. He takes a few more before he’s satisfied and slowly wanders down the trail. 

It’s when he’s getting a shot of a crow perched on a branch farther up in the canopy that he hears the quick paced sounds of running. At first he assumes it’s a deer, but those tend to be rather quiet, due to being a prey species. The running is closer now, crashing through the brush without a care for whoever might hear it. 

Stiles can feel the moment his heart kicks up, because it lurches so hard it almost hurts him. “Hello?” He calls. 

No answers. 

Please be a rabbit. Please be a rabbit.

The crashing slows down, it’s closer now. Whatever it is, it’s aware it’s not alone anymore. In fact the silence that follows is almost jarring. Even when it’s quiet in the preserve, it’s never quiet in the preserve. There’s birds, squirrels and other small animals constantly chattering and tweeting. It’s never... It’s never like this. This kind of quiet is when there’s a predator nearby. 

“Shit...” He gulps, backing away from the noise. Leave it to Stiles to have his Jeep break down and get eaten by a bear. All in a days work, right? Are there even any bears in Beacon Hills?

He clutches his camera to his chest as if it’s going to protect him if whatever animal is stalking him chooses to pounce. With his heart in his throat and his nerves shuddering through him like electricity, he wonders if he runs fast enough he’ll be able to lock himself in the Jeep. 

It’s only now he realizes that he wandered off farther than he’d meant to. 

At this point he’s probably fairly close to the old Hale house actually- not that it will do him any good knowing that now. Stiles starts over thinking. 

What if no one finds him? What if he actually dies. His dad would- oh god his dad. 

The bushes shudder as a huge body lunges out at him. Stiles shrieks, throwing his arms up but it does nothing to stop the heavy weight knocks him down. 

“PLEASE DON’T EAT ME!” He yells even though as he hears it, he’s not stupid enough to think the animal will understand. Or care, for that matter. The ground is hard and digging into his back but the thought is lost when he both hears and feels a nose snuffling against his face and neck.

“Fuck fuck fuck-” He panics. Of course he does. Stiles can feel his breaths shortening and getting caught in his too tight throat. A familiar prickle at the back of his scalp of terror shoots through him. 

Against his will he opens his eyes and- 

A wolf.

Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15201896/chapters/35257895