Stiles tried to figure out if knowing that he had been drugged from the way his tongue felt was a good or bad thing. On one hand he could figure out exactly what happened, and how he was transported from the library of his college to being chained up in a dark, slightly damp, torture dungeon. On the other hand, he was all too familiar with the feeling of being drugged and waking up chained up in a dark, slightly damp, torture dungeon. He desperately hoped that one day the villain of the week might be a bit more inventive. Waking up on a couch in a sunlight room would definitely unsettle him significantly more than the rusty shackles and dripping wall that marked the corner of every single one of these rooms. He was also mildly concerned about the number of torture dungeons that apparently existed in Northern California, because really, he was kind of expecting to have run out of these by now.
How do they find them even, is there a villains’ Craiglist, allowing the latest henchman to pick abandoned warehouses and rent what appeared to be a full set of serrated knives laid out the table. Stiles hoped so, those knives were expensive. He also already had three sets from his last few kidnappings, really was more trouble than it was worth keeping them in his apartment. He really hoped that his roommate took his warnings seriously and didn’t enter his room, even if he had been missing for a bit.
Despite Stiles’ complete disdain for his captors design choices, here he was, seemingly trapped for the newest villain to come in and monologue. Stiles hoped they could get everything done quickly, he had really been planning to work on his mythology paper at least a bit before the weekend. But alas, instead he was going to be kept sitting here, on a musty cot, while whatever evil-wannabe left him to kick his heels before asking him a series of questions he really couldn’t answer. He wasn’t exactly sure where people were getting their information from. Stiles felt poor research skills were obviously pervasive in the hunter community. He was almost disappointed. He hadn’t stepped foot in Beacon Hills in three years, his phone derelict, void of any text messages and he never had visitors. He had been abandoned when his father lay in the hospital, and when the machines flat-lined Stiles kissed Melissa on the cheek and walked away. He hadn’t really looked back.
Hunters, however, seemed to be more inclined to believe he was lying to protect the pack. They figured if they held him long enough he would either break or the pack would come. In the face of completely incorrect stubbornness, Stiles maintained his right to defend himself. The list of deceased he sent to Chris grew every few weeks, but otherwise he lived his life like any other college kid. Though, he did clean up a few messes for the local selkie pack, and the vampire clan up north, and earned his own lodging for a few spell book translations for a witch. So, like any college kid with remarkably weird hobbies and the type of edge that only near-death experiences can provide.
But, Stiles was thinking more and more of opening up a little bookshop/ consulting gig when he graduated in two months. He didn’t think it would be easy, but he also felt that he had an expertise that others could benefit from. Perhaps he could prevent others from following down his path, or at least training them so they didn’t have to face their first Wendigo armed with a quick google search and a prayer. Stiles, particularly, had his eye on a cute little shop he had seen in Portland on his last visit up. He also felt Portland was just weird enough that his strange visitors would be able to fly under the radar, both literally and figuratively. His fascination with Portland had nothing to do with the rumors of a black wolf with blue eyes nor whispers of a bearded recluse. None at all.
But Stiles should know better than to think of good things, even briefly. When the door opened a bloodied mess was thrown in before the metal clanged shut, a bolt scrapping across to hold it shut. Stiles really hoped that the person was alive, because the fact that he, a measly human had been chained up, and the bloodied mess had not, really boded poorly.
The lump groaned and rolled over.
Time stopped.
Rage overtook everything.
All attempts at civility ceased.
How dare they.
They thought they could touch him.
Hurt him.
He had been free.
He had been off living in the woods of Portland.
He had been safe from this world, safe from the hunters, safe from villains of the week, safe from a pack who demanded too much. And safe from Stiles. Kept away to ensure he would stay safe and happy and whole.
Stiles magic had always been linked to emotion. At first it was the sharpness of fear, before the mellowing of sadness. Recently, he would say his magic had brightened with a hard-earned contentment. Now, though, he was an inferno.
He barely noticed the cuffs melting off as he stood. Nothing could pull his gaze from the man in the center of the room. He burned the wolfsbane from the wounds, bringing Derek back from whatever the hunters had done. Stiles didn’t notice the whirlwind in the room, he couldn’t hear the shouts coming from outside. He saw only fading bruises and shredded clothes.
Finally, he collapsed next to his old friend, caressing a healing face with a tenderness he couldn’t muster for anyone else. Electric blue eyes snapped open and Derek brought his hands up. He gasped Stiles’ name like a prayer and Stiles’ last shred of control snapped. They were kissing like their lives depended on it, like everything was suddenly falling into place.
And then Derek’s eyes drooped. The moment was gone. Fading like Derek’s heartbeat under Stiles’ hand.
There was no sound, no rushing wind, no warning at all. Just a burnt shell of a house with two men at the epicenter.
Derek’s eyes opened again as Stiles felt the last of his magic slip away. Drained. He didn’t care. That heartbeat was steady again, and the men responsible were gone. Skeletons in a house that smoldered.
Stiles dragged Derek up, off the ground and into his arms. They limped away from the scene of the crime towards the road, uncertain of an exact direction. Stiles would eventually have to figure out why they had been captured. Figure out how they found Derek, and ensure no one else could ever touch him again. He would have to collect names for Chris and make new threats.
But for now, he would get them home.
He would pray his roommate wasn’t home to see him drag Derek across the threshold. He would find out what happened. He would kiss Derek senseless again and again and again. He would keep working towards that little shop in Portland, with this man at his side. He couldn’t save everyone, the pack and his dad has proven that, but he could keep this one man safe.
He would protect Derek, because when he was really honest with himself, when he listened to the whispers in the back of his mind, Stiles knew that if he kept this one perfect thing safe, the rest of the world could burn.
Hi, just wondering if you can rec anything that explores the 5a schism between Stiles + Scott? Any canon aus that take it further and don't just skirt around what happened would be great. Sterek would be preferred. Again thank-you for all the work you put into this blog you deserve all the medals (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
Sure thing. We also have a Scott is A Bad Friend tag here. - Anastasia
Best Friends Ain't What They Used To Be by darkhavens
(1/1 I 195 I Teen)
Stiles can't believe that after everything, Scott thinks he's capable of cold-blooded murder. It's the last straw. He makes a call.
Camaro's keys are in the kitchen counter. by LuciaNuG
(1/1 I 358 I Not Rated)
Rosco can't be fix.Everything around Stiles is going down.Then, a text.Camaro's keys. Derek?
I'll Be Alright, Just Not Tonight by Lauraq18
(1/1 I 511 I Teen)
Freaking out over killing Donovan, Stiles calls the one person who always listens.
Or, How a bunch of text messages lead Derek home.
Everything Breaks by trianglesread96
(1/1 I 679 I Not Rated I No Pairing)
Just an in-between scene taking place during Lies of Omission in season 5. Basically, what happens after Scott leaves Stiles in the rain and what's going on in Stiles' head
I wanna make your heartbeat by malkinevgeni
(1/1 I 885 I General)
After a couple of seconds, Derek spoke again. “Can I ask you something... weird? I mean, I want you to do something but you’re going to find it weird.”
I Believe You by sterek_bitch
(1/1 I 4,770 I Teen)
Despite Derek's departure from Beacon Hills and his and Stiles' break up, Stiles still calls him after his encounter with Donovan in search of love and comfort. When Derek wakes up in the middle of the night and finds out Stiles is in trouble he doesn't hesitate to get in his car and drive back to Beacon Hills to help him.
Break Apart to Come Together by Revenant
(1/1 I 8.956 I Teen)
The truth is that everything Stiles really needs fits inside a single duffel bag.
Man I just applied to to join and realised that somewhere along the way tumblr unfollowed you guys 😒 Not sure when that happened because it wasn't me 😡
Tumblr has been known for doing that! But no worries, you don’t have to be a follower to apply. :)
thealphasspark replied to your photoset thealphasspark: Tyler Hoechlin: Beard Touching...
Your tags are hilarious. Just need to run my fingers through that beard. For scientific purposes of course ; D
Lol thank you! I need all the hot daddy professor!Sterek fics. Stiles’ notes are mostly just doodles of the beard at various angles daydreaming what it would feel like against his face, neck, between his thighs.....*drifts off into oblivion*
That beard definitely needs its daily dose of strokes! Let’s put on our lab coats and science the hell out of that beard.
I can imagine Hoech gently combing it through with a superman logo comb, giving it a pep talk in the mornings, and saying “Oh hello, new friend,” to new greys that pop up.
*returns to the corner of chaos*
PS. I love how you had the pics in zoom succession, like the beard is coming for you and resistance is futile. *Jaw theme accompaniment* That’s art right there. ;D <3
Hi just a quick question about Mindless Trinket. I really want to read it but I've always put it off because you have commented that you were working on a sequel. I'm guessing this is something that you may have left behind. I wonder if this can be read as a standalone or if it ends on a cliffhanger?
heyyyyy
uhh well i still intend to continue it, i’ve just been stuck in a hole and trying to figure out where to go from where it is and other things like that and then rl stuff constantly pulling me away from it
it ends on an open ending/cliffhanger, but there will probably be a four chapter interlude before the (eventual) sequel to kind of set up the fic?? i guess
Just wondering and this may have already been asked so, apologies in advance. Once the art is assigned to the writers will we then have contact with each other? It would be great if we could have the opportunity to contribute some art specifically for the fic that's being created. Thanks for all the work being put in : )
Hi!
Thanks for asking!
Yes, we’ll very much encourage (require, really, at the very least at the start of the matching process) that the matched authors and artists get in touch with each other.
One of the reasons is the one you mentioned - some artists might want to make adjustments or additional art, as it’s looking very likely that at least some art will have more than one author assigned.
The other reason is that we’d really like to avoid a situation where a fic written for an artwork has content that the artist is not comfortable with. So we’ll ask that at the minimum the artists and authors exchange that information at the start, and then at the end, they’ll need to talk about posting details.
