May 7
Always a treat to see kudos or comments on a story when you’re currently working on the next chapter.
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Always a treat to see kudos or comments on a story when you’re currently working on the next chapter.
Claudia Stilinski didn’t intend to get stuck as a ghost. It was something that happened rather unexpectedly. Though for someone who dabbed in magic, it really shouldn’t had been all that surprising. The force of willpower for a spark was stronger than the natural passing of death it seemed. When she’d woken up and seen herself lying in that hospital bed, dead. She didn’t have long to adjust before she’d been yanked out of the room and down the hall, pulled by some invisible force that had bound her to her son as he ran from the room, ran from death. And he’d been running from it ever since that day.
As she’d tried to adjust to her new reality. She’d watched as Stiles had became a careful child, his anxiety spiking from everything he tried to do perfectly. Nine years old and already thinking about death, thinking about Noah and what would happen if his dad left him too. The Aderall wasn’t helping manage the darker symptoms of ADHD as he tried to control his little world by making sure that no one would die ever again.
When Stiles had learned about the supernatural, she’d been angry. Angry enough that several books had fallen out of the shelves in her son’s room. She’d done everything she could possible do to keep her son out of this life, away from danger. And here he was running straight into it because of Scott. Because he loved Scott. She couldn’t fault him for that.
But during that whole saga with the murdering alpha around the town, she’d become more than his mother. She’d become his protector. She’d been able to watch his back in a way that no one else could. Her son was clever, he was smart, and he was brave. And with her, nothing would be able to touch him that she didn’t want to touch him.
The first hint that she’d had that she wasn’t just a ghost was when Peter Hale revealed that he was the alpha, that he hadn’t been catatonic after all. She’d watched as his eyes flickered towards her as she hovered a few inches above the ground, slightly behind her son’s left shoulder. It was just a flicker, but enough to wonder if he could see her.
When Stiles had ran after Lydia, ran into the field, ran head-long into danger. She gone with him. Stiles had reached for Lydia only to get rebuffed by the alpha werewolf, growing, guarding his prey, or his beta, she didn’t know which at the moment.
“If you bite him, I will end you!” She’d screamed, every nerve in her body on fire.
And she’d known that he’d heard her. He raised his head, eyes blazing red, couched low over the girl’s body and looked at her. And there was fear in his eyes because she was burning with rage, literally flickering as fire danced over the haziness that was her non corporal body. She hadn’t known she could do that.
She watched as the two of them talked and once, only once, that she knew that he wasn’t going to hurt her son, she let the fire drop away. She didn’t know that she could control it either. She watched as her son wrestled with himself at the offer of the bite. She watched as he weighed it in his mind, realizing that he could keep himself safe, could finally have all the control he’d craved over death.
“Stiles, don’t.” She whispered, breaking her silence for the first time in years. But she’d didn’t have to say anything really as her son yanked his arm away at the same time she’d spoken. Peter Hale was right, her son did want. But again she was so proud of the man her son had become. The alpha had sent Stiles away and she followed, but not before Peter Hale had spoken to her, red eyes looking straight into her brown ones.
“How did such a clever boy get a shade bound to him? Hmm?”
“I will be your greatest nightmare if you touch him.” Claudia threatened, letting the orange flames start to catch in her chest, to spread out into her body. “I know what you’re afraid of, werewolf.”
“My greatest nightmare has already happened.” He told her with a sneer. “I’m not afraid of…”
“His mother?” She finished his sentence for him and watched his involuntary reactions as he realized what kind of shade she was. She’d suspected it for a while, that it wasn’t just her misuse of magic that had stuck her a ghost, but that she’d actually made herself a protector spirit, a vengeance spirit. She’d been torn from her son too soon and resisted the call of the natural order of things because it. Was. Too. Soon.
She didn’t hear if he responded to her threat as she was once again yanked back into touching distance of her son. But somehow, she knew that they’d reached an understanding. That Stiles was off limits.
She should have seen coming what happened next. Derek was too young, inexperienced at being an alpha. She should have known that he would be the one to tell Stiles the truth about what had been going on since she’d died.
Read all chapters on ao3: Teen Wolf: A Mothers Love
Not much is known about the Jedi outside of the Temple. Everyone you talk too has a different interoperation of the mystery that is the Jedi. Space monks, one person would say, while others see Jedi as diplomats, going hither and yon at the beck of Senete. Lacky’s.
So when the Kamenoians had given Cody and Rex reading material about their Jedi generals it was short and succinct to say the least. The only other exposure they had before being sent the field to meet their generals was catching a glimpse or hearing a pleasant, “Good morning” from General Ti.
There was nothing in that reading material that could have prepared them for generals Skywalker and Kenobi.
“Professionalism is to be expected at all times.” Their texts had pressed upon them. “The Jedi are diplomats, and decorum is to be upheld at all times, even when not on duty. Joking, even so called practical jokes will not be tolerated.”
Many of the vode had scoffed at that one. “We can’t even rib one another when we make a hash out of target practice?”
He didn’t know what to expect that day in the hanger bay. They were about the ship out, the 212th, but first they were going to meet their general. The Jedi. The first impression Cody had was of a soft spoken, quiet and polite ginger haired man with a cloak so large it could hide two or three of the younger cadets beneath it. There was dedication and poise there to be sure, the confidence of a warrior even. He could see it in the way he moved, the watchful gaze as he took in the soldiers in front of him.
Rex could see the fire that burned inside General Skywalker even before going into battle. He was young and possibly untrained even, but the speech he’d given told him that the general was loyal and that counted for something in his book.
The first time it happened, the room had gotten still. Rex and Cody looked at each other, helmets still on, unsure of what they were seeing. It had been a quick rub, a quirk of Kenobi’s eyebrow and a slight smirk on the older man’s face. Skywalker brushed it off as soon as it happened. Maybe… they had imagined it.
The two of them were often fighting together in the beginning of the campaigns, Skywalker and Kenobi. The two Jedi were often near each other, by accident or design they couldn’t tell in the beginning.
The soldiers later learned through careful observation that Kenobi and Skywalker once been what the Jedi called Master and Padawan, a close knit team. It showed when they fought together, but then again it could have just been a Jedi thing. Because Jedi are supposed to not have emotions as one of the texts had posited. No attachments.
The second time it happened, there was no mistaking the ribbing that they doled out to one another.
After their first campaign, the generals had taken a separate transport from the troopers, General Skywalker had insisted on flying. Cody had picked up a faint unease from General Kenobi regarding the flight, but he thought it possible that the general had an aversion to flying period, not matter who was at the controls. He wasn’t alarmed until they’d reached the system and the troopers flying the transport had called for him and Rex to join them in the bridge.
The ship was doing loop d loops, head over heels, nose over tail, spinning in mid-air.
Being older, Cody was the first to reach for the comm. “Transport to General Kenobi. Sir, is your vessel currently malfunctioning?”
“No, Commander.” The general’s voice sounded strained. “I’m just being…” There was a sound that suspiciously sounded like a gulp. “Subjecated to my Padawan’s rather unique translation of the word, flying.” The last sentence came out rather dryly.
“Not your Padawan anymore.” General Skywalker corrected in the background sounding practically giddy. “And flying is supposed to be fun!”
“Not when you’re alarming the troops, it isn’t Knight Skywalker.” Kenobi bit off the title like a curse. “You’re coming in too fast.”
“I’ve got it.”
“And upside down.”
“I’ve…”
“Don’t say you’ve got it when it’s clearly not… Anakin!”
Cody looked at Rex as Kenobi’s voice went up a slight octave. Two generals had obviously forgotten that the comm was still open. Neither of them knew how to remind them of that without letting them know they’d been listening in.
“You did that on purpose!” Kenobi accused over the comm system as few minutes later as the general’s ship had been docked.
General Skywalker laughed. “Maybe a little. But I told you I had it. Just like old times, huh?”
There was an exasperated sigh from Kenobi. “If you mean scaring me half to death while you attempt to learn what flying actually looks like then yes, it was just like old times.” His voice sounded suspiciously like their older vode during training missions.
“Admit it. I’ve gotten better then when I was a kid.” Skywalker said. They all could hear the grin in his voice even over the comm.
“Oh, there’s no doubt there, padawan mine.” Kenobi said. “If we’d been attempting this landing when you were a kid, I’d would have known we were going to crash instead of just warning you we were about the crash. I’d say that’s an improvement.” There was squeak of pilot’s chair. “Commander, we’ve landed. In one piece. This time.”
“Hey!” Came the protest from the background.
“I’ll check in with you later. Kenobi out.” The comm went dead.
Rex looked at Cody. Surprise written on his face. “Did they just… rib one another?” Rex asked Cody quietly. It was almost… brotherly the way that they’d talked to one another. There was warmth in their tones. They’d joked with one another like vode.
“Not another word.” Cody warned. He glanced at the troopers on the bridge who were doing a good job of pretending they hadn’t been listening as well. “One conversation doesn’t mean that the texts are wrong. Keep your eyes and ears open, vod.”
Rex recognized the concern Cody had. Spreading rumors about their commanding officers would be bad. Decomissioning bad. He nodded. “Understood.”
Slowly over the coming days, the more they were around the two men, their Jedi generals, Rex and Cody learned that it wasn’t a one time thing. The two men loved each other like brothers.
They may not say it with words, but their actions showed it clear as day to the troopers under them. It wasn’t just the two of them either. They showed it more then any other of the Jedi to be sure or maybe Cody and Rex were just biased. But the other command troopers, and even some of the lower ranks all shared reports when they were stationed together of their generals being just like family too.
It took a few months but the troopers learned to relax under their new generals. They were solider’s professionals to be sure, but the undercurrent was less of fear and more of comrades in arms, fighting together, eating together, and yes joking together. Baring their teeth in the face of death in laughter because that’s what you do when you might not survive to see another day.
It gave Cody hope for the future.
Star Wars: You Were My Brother
I've held a lot of hands during my tenor as medical officer on the USS Enterprise. It comes with the job. People are still people, and accidents still happened. Even on the Federation’s flagship.
Chief Engineer Scott’s have always been the worst. Calloused with cuts, scotches, burns, and the occasional unidentifiable fluid even though liquid based mechanics aren’t really a thing anymore. I once asked him how’d it happen. He just grinned and shrugged. “The Enterprise, she’s got a mind of her own lass. I’m nay her master anymore then the captain.”
Last week, it was Sulu’s thumb containing a thorn from some non-Earth roses he was attempting to cross pollinate. He normally wouldn’t have come in, but this one had slide a little too far under the skin for the basic first aid kit in the botany lab.
Captain Kirk’s were calloused from all the action he put himself through. Calloused and reassuring as he held my hand as I cleaned his wounds up from another escapade. I was shaking worse then the Enterprise was that day as either the Klingons or Romulans fired on the Enterprise.
“It’s going to be alright, Christine.” He told me. He raised his eyes towards the regenerator I was using on his forehead. “Don’t miss with that thing or there won’t be a captain left to get up to the bridge.”
I blushed, more with anger than anything. I released my hand from his, grabbed his jaw and went to work. I would shake later that day in my quarters, still not completely used to being on the front lines of the final frontier.
I never held Lt. Spock’s. As must as I wanted to. In addition to Vulcan’s being avoidant of touch, he never seemed to injure his hands in anyway. Were his hands cold, or warm? Calloused or not? He was a science officer, so probably not. Could Vulcan’s even get calluses? The closets I’d come was when our little fingers had brushed against one another’s when reaching for the same medical tricorder by accident.
He didn’t even notice. I snatched my hand back like it had been burned, frightened lest he realize how I felt.
But Dr. Mcoy’s hands were the first to surprise me.
“I’ll probably catch some age old virus and succumb slowly to gangrene.” He grumped as I looked over his hands one day after he’d been called down to Engineering and ended up cutting himself on some metal exposed by Lt. Scott working on engine room repairs.
“Hmm.” I snorted softly. I turned off the dermal regenerator and rubbed the spot gently.
I don’t know why I assumed they’d be rough and calloused. Maybe it was his age, maybe it was the way he used them for so many different things, to heal, to comfort, to restrain, to convince, and yes even to kill if the situation warranted it.
His hands were soft, softer then mine if I’m being honest. But it made sense, he is a surgeon and surgeons have to take care of their best assets. Hands.
“It looks alright to me, Doctor.” I smiled, meeting his blue eyes with my dark ones.
He grunted. “Of course. Thanks, Nurse Chapel.”
I smiled and let his hand go. I wondered what hands would enter sickbay tomorrow. I studied my own hands and wondered what stories they would tell to those whom held them.
Star Trek: The Original Series - Hands
Final word count is in! All of the words I have written on ao3 make up…. About 15 novels worths. (Averaging 50,000 words per novel)
And that doesn’t take into account my traditionally published other four novels which are longer than 50,000 words. Because. Fantasy.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 5/12 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski & Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Talia Hale, Rafael McCall, Melissa McCall Additional Tags: Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Angst and Tragedy, Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, post season 1 madness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Teenagers, Hiding Medical Issues, Family Secrets, Canon-Typical Behavior, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts Summary:
A mother’s love knows no bounds and when you’re a magic user, and a Spark, that apparently also includes your own death. Bound to her son, Claudia is forced to watch Stiles grow up without her. But when she travels back in time after the end of season 1, can she stop multiple tragedies with prior foreknowledge? Or will she fall victim to the schemes of time herself?
Chapters: 3/11 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Claudia Stilinski & Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale's Father/Talia Hale Characters: Claudia Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Talia Hale, Derek Hale's Father, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Cora Hale, Laura Hale, Chris Argent, Gerard Argent, Kate Argent, Alan Deaton, Isaac Lahey, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall, Talia Hale's Pack Members, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf), Jordan Parrish Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Torture, Druids, Nemeton (Teen Wolf), Occult, Ghosts, Magic, Magic-Users, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Spark, Throuples | Triad Relationships, Hunters & Hunting, Werewolf Bites, Full Shift Werewolves, Family Secrets, Fix-It of Sorts, Family Fluff, Spark Claudia Stilinski, Parent-Child Relationship, Weird Plot Shit, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Mind Manipulation, Eventual Happy Ending, Not a pregnancy story, does it count as rape if it's by a tree? Series: Part 3 of Light, Something We Carry as Armor Summary:
Four years later, Claudia, Noah and Peter have settled into a fairly normal rhythm. Until Claudia is kidnapped, and Peter and Noah have to race against the clock to find her. At the same time, a new family moves into Beacon Hills, the Argents. The web of lies and deception is about to come down, catching all of them in its grasp.
(recently updated)
Noah looked at the number of books, parchments, the open laptop, notepapers with hastily scribbled notes... and was that a potion bottle... that amount of magic stuff spread out on his dining room table.
He sighed. And said the only thing that came to his mind. "I wish your mother were here to help you with all this."
"Yeah, well." Stiles scrubbed at his face, eyes looking slightly red with the lack of sleep, dark circles making his eyes even darker. "She might even had an answer to all this." He gestured to the mess, letting his hands fall on top of his notes with a slap.
"You know. Deaton isn't any help. I can't even find Peter right now. And Derek... well books aren't exactly the big guy's strong suit. I mean Scott will understand the answer I give him, but he's also more a hulk smash kind of personality. I don't know. I just can't seem to find anything useful."
Noah watched Stiles lean back in his chair, looking utterly defeated, knowing that everyone was counting on him to come up with the answer. And he was just a kid himself. He remembered when Claudia..
"The basement." Noah said aloud, startling his son. He smacked the papers on the desk. "Stiles, the basement! Come on."
"Why, what's in the basement?" Stiles asked, but he was already out of his chair and following his dad.