For the made up title - Barkley's Band of Marauders Goes Home
Ooooooh okay I know for this one.
Peter hightails it out of Beacon Hills right after being resurrected. Derek and Cora are the next to leave after Derek gives up the spark to heal her. Lastly, Lydia and Stiles both graduate early and gtfo, taking Malia with them because Malia has only marginally readjusted to human bullshit, and is absolutely Not Having It with traditional schooling.
For each and every one of them, leaving was a matter of survival. If they stayed in Beacon Hills, they were going to die, point blank. Either because of their own choices (Peter) or their past choices (Derek and Cora) or the choices of their loved ones (Stiles) or just because Beacon Hills is a goddamn hellmouth (Lydia and Malia).
In a series of events that could be called fate, but Stiles just calls “His Fucking Luck,” they all randomly meet up in New York.
Stiles, Lydia and Malia are all living together as Stiles and Lydia do their undergrad and Malia gleefully gets a job with Central Park animal control. Derek brought Cora back to New York because he had werewolf contacts there, and knew he could go back to working as an editor. And Peter just recently drifted there after working in fashion in Italy and France.
They all converge in the cleaning products aisle of a bodega.
No one fucking believes it.
“This is fake right? This has to be fake. Someone is fucking with us. This is a dream or something,” Stiles says.
“Why Stiles, if I’d known I feature in your dreams so often-” Peter doesn’t get a chance to finish because Lydia already her taser out.
Eventually they all decide to stop camping out next to the Clorox and go to Peter’s apartment to talk things out. No one has any clues, so they reluctantly exchange numbers and agree to contact each other if anything happens that might explain why they’re all in the same place.
That never happens. Other weird stuff happens, because their lives are just Like That™, but in the end it turns out that they were all pulled to the same place because... it’s New York. Eight and half millions other people live there too.
Eventually, they just kind of fall together in a pack, like a gravitational pull. No one else can really understand the background radiation of having a past rooted in Beacon Hills unless they’re living it themselves. Occasionally Stiles and Lydia wonder what they’re doing in a pack that’s 2/3rds Hales, but whatever. Stiles can’t really complain when Malia brings home a dog that she found wandering the park, and lets him name is Barkley.
Everything fine, for a given definition of “fine”, until one day Stiles gets a call from McCall. Not Scott. Scott had burned every bridge and salted the water under it too by the time everyone left.
Melissa on the other hand, didn’t. And she needs help.
So they all call in various family emergencies, load Barkley in the car, and start driving back. It’s where the story ends, and begins.
jilrene replied to your post: High fucking fashion lol (I know fabric mask don't...
Aawww. Your sister is a talented seamstress and that was sweet of her. The fabric is cute, too.
Thanks!
She made some to other family members who need to go out too :D She sewed in some of those wire things that close bread bags to the nose part, so the fit can be adjusted :D
This is the first @fandomcares auction piece for @jilrene who wanted fae!Stiles and was kind enough to let me split the 5k+ into two smaller fics. Yes I did reuse the same fae edit I used for my fae!peter fic
Ao3 link
Enjoy!
The first time Peter met one of the Fair Folk he was four. Having a family as old as the Hales meant growing up with stories of the old world and the creatures that resided in it. Every Saturday night the entire Hale clan would meet in the main family’s mansion and listen to the tales of days long since past, and his aunts and uncles bickering over the details of those stories. Cautionary tales of the dangers that lurk in the deep dark woods. Tales that Peter had always enjoyed and lived by, even when the other children mocked him about it. His grandmother was Peter’s most favorite person in the world and her favorite thing had always been the little bouquets of wildflowers the children brought her. Peter was a competitive child, who prided himself on always giving her the biggest brightest bouquets, which is how he found himself further out into the forest than the others. Each day he ventured farther and farther into the beckoning woods with the goal of bringing back brighter, more beautiful flowers for his darling grandmother.
The forest was always a loud symphony of life, but it grew quieter as Peter followed a trail of blooming Bolander’s Lilies. His grandmother had shown him Bolander’s Lily the night before as she read from their book of flowers until he fell asleep. Peter had been so excited to see the rare and beautiful flower and his small feet carried him deep into the whispering trees. With his arms full of lillies Peter started hearing soft humming; he was immediately nervous and yet he also felt himself drawn to the sweet melody.
He soon found himself standing outside a circle of candles and flowers he’d never seen before, not even in his books. Peter had been so focused on the wonderful new flowers he could give his grandmother he hadn’t realized the source of the soothing melody was watching him.
“Hello little one.”
Peter flinched. He hadn’t meant to get so distracted by the wonderful flowers in front of him, good boys always paid attention to their surroundings. He looked up at the speaker shyly, scared he was about to be reprimanded.
“What brings you out here, precious?” The man speaking to him had pale skin and bright burning amber eyes.
“My Abuelita likes flowers. Yours are pretty.” Peter replied nervously, still waiting for the punishment he knew was coming.
“We all enjoy the delights of flora don’t we? Would you care to give me your name darling boy?” The man now wore a smirk Peter had only seen on his Uncle Michael right before he did something bad.
The question sent up a flag of warning though. His grandmother had always told him to never give someone his name. All those nights sitting on the floor at her feet as she told the family the warning signs of a trickster fae and it still took Peter a while to recognize the slightly pointed ears, the too sharp teeth, the slight glow about him, the ring of plants he was in. Peter was going to get in so much trouble.
He shook his head to signal that no, he was not going to give this fae his name.
“Ah yes, ‘Stranger Danger’ as the humans these days call it. If you give me your name we won’t be strangers. Here, I’ll start. You can call me Stiles.” The fae gave him a wide smile.
Peter shook his head again and mumbled a quiet, “I know what you are mister.”
The fae’s eyes flashed a bright gold as he squatted to eye level with Peter, “You know what I am? How peculiar. Was it your Abuelita that told you about me and mine?”
Peter made the motion of putting a key in his mouth, locking it, and throwing it over his shoulder.
The fae laughed a bright happy laugh that made Peter think about the warm summer days he’d swing on the porch with his grandmother.
“Fair enough little one. If I cannot have your name I will think of one to call you instead. Come here and let me get a look at you.” The fae’s smile was welcoming and Peter felt himself take a step forward before his brain caught up and reminded him that once inside a faerie ring they will never let you out.
Peter shook his head again.
The fae laughed once more and looked at Peter with something like fondness in his burning eyes.
“Clever boy. You can stay there then.”
The fae’s eyes flashed again as he looked over Peter, who was feeling like he should’ve ran away a long time ago.
“Ah that’s unfortunate.” The fae tapped his index finger over his lips as he hummed.
“It seems your new name will be Ash Prince.” Something in the man’s voice seemed both sad and yet also pleased.
Peter opened his mouth to ask why that was his name, but between one blink and the next he found himself sitting in his bed surrounded by a small ring of beautiful and unique flowers, that definitely didn’t belong in this realm.
If he kept them for himself, no one had to know.
-
Peter continued to see Stiles throughout the years. He tried to stay away, to not purposefully seek the fae out, yet he always found himself just outside that ring of luminescent flowers. Stiles’ humming floating around on the breeze until it wound its way around Peter no matter where the boy was.
“Where are you going, mi corazón?” Peter’s grandmother’s soft voice found him from her place on the porch swing.
“Hello Abuelita.” Peter smiled at her as he altered his path to take him to his grandmother.
He settled in to swing quietly with her and watch the sunset, but unfortunately she was looking at him with a glint in her eyes that spelled trouble.
Peter knew better than to speak first and give her an opening, so he got more comfortable and let himself enjoy the gentle swinging as she stared at him.
“I know where you go when you think we aren’t watching.”
Peter smiled softly at her and continued to wait her out, he knew his grandmother and there was no way she was finished.
“I know they don’t see, but you should know that I do. And I hear mi corazon.” She lifted an eyebrow at him as if daring him to argue.
He would not.
“What do you hear Abuelita?” Peter asked quietly.
“I hear the death knell that rings each time you step into that forest. I hear the dirges that play each time you go beyond our reach. I hear our family’s lament each time you meet with that fae in the woods.” She gently held his face between her hands, “And I hear the love songs he sends you each time you feel alone.”
Peter didn’t know what to say. She was right. He knew meeting Stiles was wrong. He knew that with each visit he got closer and closer to that ring, to telling the fae his true name. Stiles was slippery yet dazzling, devilish yet charming, doom yet peace. Stiles was enchanting and Peter was lost in his spell.
His grandmother must have seen the turmoil on his face, because she ran a soothing hand down his arm and sighed, “I know my darling boy. You are only fifteen, and he has had you for nearly ten years already. Be strong mi amor.”
Peter nodded, tears welling in his eyes, and words stuck in his throat.
“He will come for you one day.” she leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead before continuing as if she could speak directly into his mind, past the melody still calling him into the woods, “Remember your family. Remember my teachings. Remember who you are.”
Each sentence ended with a kiss until finally she sighed and leaned back into her space.
“Go to him mi corazón. He is waiting.”
Peter took her dismissal for what it was and kissed her head before he headed into the ever darkening forest.
-
“Stay with me awhile longer my beautiful Ash Prince.” Stiles was looking at him with earnest amber eyes.
“I cannot. You know I cannot.” Peter sighed.
Stiles huffed once before turning a sad little pout Peter’s direction, “What if I gave you more flowers?”
Suddenly Peter was surrounded by his favorite of the flowers Stiles had shown him.
“What if I gave you books?”
The flowers disappeared, only to quickly be replaced by great big chests filled with every book Peter could ever wish to read.
“What if I gave you nothing at all other then all of my attention for the rest of your life?”
The chests disappeared and all that was left was Stiles, hovering above the ring of flora so that he could lay on his stomach and yet still be eye level with Peter.
The human rolled his eyes fondly.
“You are sly and quick Stiles. I can never let my guard down with you. One wrong word and I’m just another brainless human slave.” Stiles opened his mouth to protest but Peter continued, “The fun is in the fact that I will not submit. I am too smart to fall into your beautiful deadly traps and you like a challenge.”
Stiles righted himself so that he could stomp his foot while he crossed his arms and frowned like child.
Fourteen years they’d played this game. Fourteen years of Stiles trying to swindle Peter’s name out of him. Fourteen years of almost stepping past the ring of flora when he relaxed too much around the trickster.
Peter was turning eighteen soon which meant college was on the horizon. College, a job, a life of his own was waiting for Peter outside of these comforting woods,and of the loving home he’d grown up in. He could not keep Stiles. He could not continue the wonderful back and forth banter they had together. It was time for Peter to grow up.
“I leave tonight and I will not return.” the finality in his voice was a shock to both human and fae.
Stiles tried to call for Peter as the man walked away, but he would not return.
-
Peter returned to Beacon Hills the summer after his freshman year of college. He felt like a new man. He felt changed in a way that made him embarrassed to talk about. Somehow he felt both more mature and incredibly immature all at once. It had only been a year and yet for better or for worse, Peter was different.
All summer he heard Stiles’ songs. All summer he ignored them. He was done playing games with the fae and he would not let himself act on the temptation. As the weeks passed the melodies became increasingly chaotic, like he was trying to tell Peter something with his songs because the man would not go to him.
Peter ignored the warnings.
As he laid burning, listening to the screams of his family around him Peter wished more than anything in the world that Stiles would come save them.
“I’m here my sweet Ash Prince. What do you ask of me?” Stiles voice washed over Peter’s burning body, making the dying boy smile.
“Save them. Please Stiles.” The words were a croak on the ash filled air.
“If you’ll give me your name darling boy. I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” Stiles words brought him back to that warm summer day when he was surrounded by his favorite flower and meeting an interesting stranger for the first time.
“My name is Peter Lobo Hale. Save my family Stiles.”
-
Peter woke up in a beautiful green forest in a country he did not know.
“Where are we today my love?”
Stiles smiled brightly at him and gestured to the trees around, “Welcome to the Black Forest!”
“And why are we here?” Peter asked, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk that showed a bit of fang.
“All apart of your introduction to the wonderful world around you darling!” Stiles’ joy made the male glow like a small star.
Peter would never tire of basking in the warmth Stiles spread with each grin, cheer, and exaltation of ecstasy.
Ooohhhh. Halloween prompts! I like both the ghost hunting in the graveyard and the corn maze prompts. Either is awesome! Steter. Because we can never have enough Steter. 😍 THANK YOU!
I didn’t expect anyone would actually send me requests, so this was a lovely little surprise! Thank you! <3
person a and person b go try to navigate their way through a corn maze
“We could be eating at a very fine restaurant right now, or having drinks together as we look out over the city.” Peter complains mildly.
Stiles smiles and rolls his eyes, swinging the flashlight in his hand to find the next bend in the maze. “Stop complaining. It’s Halloween, and this is fun.”
“Halloween is a single day, not the entire month, Stiles.” He sighs. “What is fun about paying someone to let you get lost in the middle of a farm? I’m not even allowed to use my senses to help get this over with.”
“Aw, poor big bad wolf.” Stiles stops walking, backtracking to where Peter has been trudging behind him. He smiles and hooks an arm around the back of Peter’s neck. The beam of light from his flashlight bounces around as he backs Peter up against dried out stalks of corn.
His breath puffs out in a little cloud between them. “I promise, you do this? And I’ll make it worth your while when we get home.” Stiles presses his cold nose along the underside of Peter’s jaw.
Groaning in defeat, Peter pulls Stiles closer to help warm him up a little. “I suppose I can agree to those terms.” He kisses Stiles slowly, then adds, “I’m looking forward to making you beg for me.”
“Me too.” Stiles makes a little pleased sound and rests his free hand on Peter’s waist.
The corn stalks behind Peter are prickly and rough, but Stiles is warm and pliant against him. Then Stiles is stepping away and walking away. They’ve been in this maze for fifteen minutes already, but Peter is sure they’ll find their way to the center very, very soon. He’ll make sure of it.
Oh my god they’re all horrible, we watched the third episode last night and my spouse and I spent like an hour talking about how Carole might have gotten rid of her second husband. He believes the sceptic tank theory and I think she got someone in Costa Rica to bump him.
Also I’m still LOOOOOSING MY SHIT over the wedding pictures with her third husband
On the one hand j e s u s but on the other like. She Knows How To Commit To A Bit.
Hi! Salty Ask List - is there an OTP you just don't get?
Hmmmm
Most of the Scott/guy ships? Like, it doesn’t really make sense, cause shipping is not about canon at all, but he is just such a straight guy? And I have a hard time imagining him with a guy?
(And this is despite the fact that I actually wrote Stiles/Scott twice lol)
