#i just need allison to be happy again and then go on a long long long journey of self discovery and ethics lesson | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

messylustt · 1 year

Note

hii since u said you’d do something for stilinski can i request a fic where the alpha twins were just introduced and stiles and reader (best friends) like each other (everyone in the pack knows but them) and reader thinks stiles doesn’t like her so they start hanging out with the twins more and stiles gets jealous and it’s like a angry love confession and maybe smut?

++ thank u so much for taking the time to read & write this!! your writing is actually making me happy as sappy as that sounds💗💗

you’re my friend, not theirs — stiles stilinski + reader ( teen wolf ) : stiles getting jealous over the blooming friendship between you and the twins.

contents : jealous!stiles. kissing. sorry no actual p in v. i need to watch teen wolf again — that shit was gooood, and thank you so much ur actually so sweettt

"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.

You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.

Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.

"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.

You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.

Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"

"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.

"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.

"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.

Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."

"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.

"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.

"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.

"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.

"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.

"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."

Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."

Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"

"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.

Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"

You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.

You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.

"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.

One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"

He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.

You nod. "Nice to meet you."

He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.

Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."

"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.

Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."

Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."

"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.

You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.

Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.

What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.

When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.

A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.

Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.

At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.

But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.

You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"

"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.

"What?"

"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."

"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.

Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."

"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.

Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"

Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"

"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"

"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."

"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"

"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.

"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"

"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"

"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."

"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.

"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.

"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."

Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."

You scoff. "I'm not."

You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."

"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"

And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"

Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.

"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"

"You...like me?" You slowly ask.

Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.

Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."

"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.

He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.

Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.

But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.

"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.

"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.

"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."

You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.

He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.

"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.

Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.

"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."

Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."

Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."

#. ( archived )#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf stiles stilinski #smut #stiles smut #angry confession #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #jealous stiles #stiles x y/n #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fan fiction

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iheardarumorthings · 2 years

Note

holyfuck okay i don’t know if you would be okay with writing this but like the last requester, the wedding scene just did something to my feelings and what if,, five and reader broke up in 1963 texas and during the wedding scene they ended up sitting in the same table and the reader says “don’t look at me like that” and five asks what look and she says “like you still love me” and it’s just mutual pining since they still love each other and angst and deargod my heart

I HAVE MORE ANGST TODAYYYYYYY

warnings: long for me; five says fuck a lot; swearing; five breaking the reader's heart; angry confession; reader being set; reader denying anything and everything; reader being hurt (emotionally); female reader; reader is a fan of chocolate

tags: @mad-elia

SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE

He had wrecked you.

“I don’t think… I-” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes scrunched up. “We can’t do this anymore. You’re my wife, and I love you. But I’m not… in love with you. Do you know what I mean?”

He had wrecked you, but you stood taller, agreeing with the man child. So he didn’t love you after every piece of you was offered to him on a silver platter. He didn’t love you after you nursed him back to health in the apocalypse. He didn’t love you after you assured him that it wasn’t his fault all of you were separated, stuck in time.

He didn’t love you.

“No,” you laughed breathily, strained. “I get it. I totally get it. It’s no problem-”

“I’m glad,” he said, giving you a tired smile. “Now, I suggest we both go get some sleep. It’s been a hellish twenty days, hasn’t it?”

~*~

You had grabbed a tight-fitting sweater and overall shorts. It was much better than the uniform, you had to admit.

You hopped down the stairs of the hotel, greeting your brothers and sister in law.

Correction: Ex-in-laws.

“Good morning, peeps! How are we all doing?”

“Excellently, dear sister of mine,” Klaus responded. You stiffened; he didn’t notice. “And how are you this morning?”

You were crying all night.

“I’m amazing. Best sleep of my life.”

Allison’s shirt was soaked.

“Mimosa, (Y/N)?” Five called out from behind the bar. He was dressed in a t-shirt, a flannel and a vest…and a fedora. A plaid one.

“You look like you’re retiring and about to go on a fishing trip with the grandkids.”

“Oh ha ha,” he mocked, starting to pour you a drink. “You sleep well?”

“Best one yet. I don’t care if the mattress smells like sweat.”

His nose wrinkled. “Do you need me to run and grab you some new sheets?”

“I think I’ll take a trip today; I have nothing better to do anyway.”

He nodded. “Just be careful- there are a lot of alleyways that weird shit happens in.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel better.”

Before he could respond Klaus ran up to the both of you. “Okay, so I know that you’re retired Five, and I’m assuming your lovely wife-” You both winced; again, he didn’t notice…or he didn’t care. “-is also in retirement. What do you two say to a road trip? It’s what retired people do! You two, me, the countryside! What do you say?”

Five looked at you; you looked at Five and shrugged.

He won’t go. He would never.

“I got nothing better to do,” you said, smiling up at Klaus. He clapped his hands together in child-like joy, bouncing up and down slightly.

“Wonderful! And you, you old geezer?”

“I guess I’m in.”

Well, fuck me.

~*~

Five had pulled out a map of tourist locations in Pennsylvania, pointing things out to Klaus as he was driving. He ranted on and on about these things, just like an old man in retirement. He turned around and pointed them out to you, too, explaining things that may cater to your tastes.

“Okay, okay, listen to me, Five. Hold on.”

“Alright,” he said, smiling sarcastically. You felt bad; this was the first thing he was really enthusiastic about- the happy kind of enthusiastic. Not the obsessive, overbearing cloud of stopping the apocalypse. “I’m all ears.”

“So, I lied. We are going to Pennsylvania to find my birth mother!” he shouted, as if he were making an announcement. Your mouth dropped open. Well, now Five would be really pissed.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No! But if I told you, you wouldnt’ve come. (Y/N) would’ve because she’s just a sweetheart like that-”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome, (Y/N/N), you beautiful soul.” You made a face- something between confused and unsurprised. “You would not have come! I chose you two for emotional support?”

“Emotional support?” Five hissed. “You-”

“I did.”

You buried your head in your hands.

“BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE!” you heard Five shout. You shot up, only to see the sign presenting the words “WORLD’S BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE.”

“No, Five!”

“Come on-”

Five leaned over the seat quickly, gaining control of the wheel. You squeaked as the car made a sharp turn, almost running into two others. One nearly grazed your door.

“We’re going to die!” Klaus shouted.

You agreed.

~*~

Five was impressed with the ball of twine. It wasn’t a bad trip, you realized. You’d witnessed wonderful things there, including the validation Five had been craving from his siblings.

It was so nice, in fact, that Five had held your hand lightly as he was looking at it. Your eyes were wide and staring at your hands, but he was just looking at the twine.

He’d broken up with you in Dallas about fifty years before, technically. But to you, it was a few days.

You’d been crying every single night. You haven’t been eating as much.

So you pulled it back, crossing your arms, playing it off as if you were cold. He noticed. He noticed nearly everything, really. He quickly looked down at his empty hand, and then back at the ball of twine, something unreadable in his eyes.

So, here you were. One of Five’s favorites was playing, and he was singing along. You were sitting on top of the car, looking out upon the cows in the field.

He kicked the top of the car.

“Yes, Five?”

“What do you think about Hershey Park?”

“Won’t we need money for that?”

“Not if I can jump us in-”

“That’s illegal. And, along with that, I was making plans to move to New York. There’s a few jobs in my department; I can go to high school there, apply to a couple colleges. I can start over.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, the silence fragile.

“I see.”

“What are you going to be doing with your retirement, Five?”

“Go to Hershey Park.”

You cackled, throwing your head back. “Yes, because you love chocolate so much.”

“No, but you do. I thought you might want to go.”

Your heart stilled. “Thanks for the thought, Five. I appreciate it.”

The wave came through then; you could feel it rush through your system. And gone were the cows. Five clearly realized that too, stumbling out of the car, immediately looking at you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, but I don’t think the cows are,” you said, looking at the empty field.

“Can’t I get one fucking day off?” he whispered to himself.

~*~

It had been days since then. Five had gotten you new sheets; you had thanked him; he’d been looking at you; you’ve been looking away.

And on and on and on goes the cycle.

So here you were, watching the happy couple dance, nursing your drink. Maybe your last one.

But suddenly he was in front of you, his hand outstretched, beckoning you forward.

Wordlessly, you took that oh-so-familiar hand, and let him lead you to the dance floor.

He held you closely, a little too closely, your chests pressed together, his chin on top of your head.

“What are you doing, Five?”

“I’m dancing with my wife, what else do you think I’m doing?”

“Uh- Five…I thought we broke up. You aren’t in love with me, remember? You just…I don’t know. Love me? I’m not your wife anymore, Cinco.”

“We’re not divorced yet, Sweetheart.” He dipped you, you looked into his eyes. You looked into them and saw everything. You didn’t understand any of it.

He hadn’t called you “Sweetheart” in a long time, either.

“Don’t call me that, Five. And don’t look at me like that, either.”

“Like what?”

“Like you love me.”

“Darling,” he whispered, moving one of his hands to your head, threading his fingers through your hair. He moved his head lower, too, burying his face in your hair. He pressed his lips to your head. “I do. I was wrong. I don’t know what came over me- maybe it was…I don’t know. What I do know is that I am desperately and wholly in love with a woman that deserves so much more than me. But, by some miracle, that woman fell in love with the scum on the bottom of her shoe, and that little shit took it all for granted.”

You stiffened.

“I’m in love with you, (Y/N) Hargreeves.”

“Not a Hargreeves.”

He pulled you in a little closer.

“We’re not divorced yet.”

“Yet.”

“And it won’t happen.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I don’t think there are any lawyers around here to make it official. Just because the ring is off doesn’t make it legally undone. And-” He stopped himself, pulling away to look you dead in the eyes. You turned your head away; he gently turned it back, keeping it in place. “-I will not be stopping until I earn that love back, even if I’m still about as much as the dirt on the bottom of those heels.”

You pulled away for the final time, abandoning the dance floor, leaving him alone.

~*~

You two were stuck together again for the first time since the wedding. None of you spoke, you just stood there, wandering the hotel.

You decided to break the silence. “So is this the other shoe, or did it drop a while ago? Oh my god, do you think these monster guardian things have multiple pairs of legs?”

He wrinkled his eyebrows, but answered. “I hope they don’t. More work for us.”

A noise erupted from the silence, he pulled you to him by your waist.

“Five, really?”

“I told you. I’m earning love back.”

“Protecting me isn’t gonna-”

“Then what will? I don’t care that we may have minutes to live and that everything outside of this God-forsaken hotel is destroyed. I’ll find a way to make it happen. Here-” With sure, and oddly steady, hands he reached into his pocket, producing something you thought you left behind. “I have this. Do you remember the day I gave you this?”

Your ring. The silver band you’ve worn since what felt like forever.

“I remember.”

He slid it onto your finger; you let him.

“Then you remember what I said to you-”

“You don’t- Five, you meant it then. That doesn’t mean-”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he snarled, angry now. Your eyes widened at the change of tone. “You can’t honestly think my feelings have changed. I was a fool. I was being stupid. I don’t know what the hell was going through my head, but I broke you the fuck apart. I knew I was wrong the second I said it. I’ve been trying, (Y/N). I’ve been trying to work up again, but clearly you need for me to tell you because you are in such fucking denial that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. I am in love with you, Mrs. Hargreeves. And that’s not changing for shit, so you better get used to it, whether you want to stay together or not.”

You wanted to stay. You did.

But his mind could change just as easily as it did before.

“Five, your mind-”

“Is set. You’re it. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

And then you laughed. It was breathy, and marred by your tears, but he began to laugh too. He pulled you into his chest, breathing you in.

“Please. Just… stay. Please. If we do this, if we save the universe in the million to one chance we have, I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Starting with Hershey Park?”

“Most definitely.”

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #tua #tua x reader #tua x you #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader

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poppadom0912 · 2 months

Text

Her father's daughter

Warnings: Kidnapping, crying, canon-typical injuries, blood

Summary: When all is well, someone just has to barge in and ruin Will and Faith's lives.

A/N: Soo, I am back more than a month later. I didn't mean to disappear for so long... It will happen again i am sorry. This Ramadan has come with more work and I have exams in two weeks that i refuse to fail. I will most likely return at the end of april/beginning of May.

i've been thinking about writing this for a while because of how much I love Faith but I didn't want to hurt her but then I thought, no one can turn down some good old angst. Sorry again for being mia for nearly another month but randomly wrote this all in one sitting after doing some psychology and having an existential crisis soooo. This is going to be a little longer than usual, happy reading!!

Will was at work when it happened.

He was getting ready to assist Connor in a surgery when he got a call as they were scrubbing in.

The part-time nanny he hired was now basically considered family over the two years she'd been looking after Faith whenever she wasn't in school and Will was at work. So to have her calling him at work was odd but when he answered her call and was immediately met with tears and gasping and hyperventilating, Will felt his heart stop.

Will wasted no time. simply telling her he was on his way before hanging up.

Connor, without hesitation, encouraged Will to leave, saying he'd find Goodwin and tell her himself.

As soon as Will was in his car, the first person he called was a no brainer.

Whenever Will called, Jay would always come running, day or night for his older brother and niece, consequences be damned.

Will found himself struggling when Jay answered, grappling for words he couldn't muster.

"What's wrong Will?"

"Faith's gone Jay... Someone's taken her."

*****

The brothers met up at Faith's school, Will arriving before Jay.

The second Will got there, Allison, the nanny, found him instantly. She ran up to him in tears, hysterically crying as if it was her own child that was taken.

"Will I'm so sorry." She gasped, on the edge of a panic attack, eyes impossibly red as she hyperventilated, tears showing no sign of stopping any time soon.

"They- Reception said a woman picked her up in Maggie's name three hours ago-" She cut herself off with a sob. Poor women was a mess, seeing her so distraught made Will want to cry along with her.

"Allison, please listen." Will said sternly, holding her shoulder so she would pay attention to him. "None of this is your fault, okay? If it wasn't for you, it would've been another two hours before someone found out."

She exhaled shakily, nodding fervently when Will pressed her to stop apologising and accept she was at no fault, there was no reason for her to take any blame.

Before either could say anything more, the sound of sirens scared them, making both of them jump at the sudden loud sound.

At the sight of familiar cars, Will wasn't too sure if he felt relief or impending doom.

"Intelligence Will need to take a statement but after that you can go home." Will told Allison, squeezing her bicep with a timid smile for reassurance.

"As soon as they find Faith, you'll be the first to know, I promise."

*****

Jay was struggling to concentrate on the CCTV footage him and Adam were meant to be watching.

He could say with 100 percent confidence the he never thought he'd find himself in such a situation.

intelligence have been involved with numerous kidnappings. So many in fact that it was usually what they would be expecting to be called in for every day.

But, this was his niece's kidnapping. This wasn't the norm for him let alone the rest of them. A five year olds kidnapping was something they'd never want to deal with, especially someone who was family.

"Here it is." Adam said, clicking the mouse a few more times before settling on a frame, the scene being the reception of Faith's school.

Shaking any deprecating thoughts away, Jay pushed his chair forward, looking closely and minimising his blinks as to not miss a single second of valuable footage. Footage that would show the final moments of Faith being alive and safe.

The halls were empty for the most of it, bar the occasional janitor or teacher walking by. Two minutes passed when a woman in a black trench coat walked up to the desk. Her brown hair obscuring her face from the camera's view along with the thick scarf wrapped around her neck.

She spoke to the receptionist, signing a sheet of paper before a lady walked away, soon returning with a small familiar bundle.

Faith was in her little purple puffer jacket, bobble hat covering her ears and mitten on her little hands. She wore little winter boots, her my little pony backpack sat nicely on her shoulders and Will's old scarf held in her hands. Unconsciously, Jay thought about how she always complained about the itchiness of the scarf that Will would always wrap around her masterfully, his method luring out the most wonderful sound to mankind; Faith's laughter.

Faith looked perfect, just like her fathers carbon copy and even from the shitty camera footage, Jay could see the pep in her step and the twinkle that never extinguished from her eyes.

Jay's thoughts trailed back to earlier this morning when he was still fast asleep in bed but his brother had messaged him, sending him a picture of Faith in all her adorableness. Nothing had changed from that picture and it warmed his heart slightly.

Usually, whoever picked her up was met with the biggest hello, the widest smile and incessant talking and she retold the adventures of her day but this time, Faith's steps faltered at the sight of the stranger.

Jay struggled to watch the rest.

*****

All Will could hear was his baby girls cries echoing in his ears.

He'd heard her cry plentiful, he raised her since birth for goodness sakes but this cry was different. It was like he could hear just how scared she was and it felt like a literal stab in the heart.

Will forced Allison home twenty minutes ago after Hailey took her statement and was told everything. She was still very torn and upset, she refused to leave Will for several reasons but before she started blaming herself again, Will forced her to leave, promising once again to call her later.

Jay had shown Will the footage of the woman who never showed her face, maybe there was some chance Will could recognise the back of her. Somehow, she knew the exact school Faith went to as well as knowing the list of very few people that were allowed to pick her up. The list consisted of Will obviously, Jay, Allison and Maggie.

Somehow, whoever this person was, they knew who was on the emergency contact list, information that only the school and said people were privy to.

That small bit of information made Will want to be sick.

They had tried other means to try identify the woman but they were coming up with nothing. Another hour had passed, now being give hours since Faith had been taken and Will was slowly losing the plot.

"I've contacted a bunch on my CI's." Jay said, face set in stone as he finished presenting. "Still waiting to hear back."

"I have several CI's in that area." Antonio added, Kevin nodding to also confirm. "Waiting for a call any time now."

Voight hummed, giving no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. But not too long ago, he had taken Will aside and promised they would bring Faith back to him, no matter the cost.

No matter the cost. Ethically, Will wasn't too sure what to feel but emotionally, he felt relieved.

Will must've zoned out for a bit because the next thing he knew, only him, Jay and Antonio remained in the bullpen. Everyone else seemingly disappeared.

Wow, he really needed to fix up.

"Hey, how are you-"

Just as Jay opened his mouth, he was cut off by a phone ringing.

*****

Jay wasn't allowed to accompany Antonio to his CI, instead taking Kevin with him. The Latino was never once persuaded by Jay, even when he promised to stay in the car.

The sun was now starting to set and there was a clear shift in the atmosphere as the sky grew darker. To ease broth his own and his brothers fears, Jay sat with Will, sitting together in a silence neither could stand.

This was an uncommon occurrence since Will had returned from New York, the two brothers being alone together. Since coming back, it had always been the three of them. So to be in this moment, both Halstead's would rather die than to have to repeat this again.

"You want a coffee?" Jay asked, eyeing up the half empty coffee pot. At the rate this investigation was going, they'd be needing more than just coffee to help them stay up.

"Sure." Will hadn't meant for his answers to be monosyllabic, Jay had done nothing but right now, he had not much left in him to continue being so forth coming.

The silence enveloping their space, Will usually relished in any moments of silence he could get but this was just uncomfortable. Never did he ever want his little girl to be causing such a ruckus.

"Maggie called me back." Will said, watching Jays' back, following his actions as he made both their coffee's. "She doesn't recognise the woman nor has she told anyone outside the ED's staff about Faith - that's all people I know and none of them know that woman."

Jay hummed as he stirred the tiniest bit of sugar when his tasted a little too bitter for his liking. "That's good but it does mean we have even less of an idea as to who this is."

Will didn't reply, only mumbling a small thanks as he took the mug from Jay's outstretched hand and sipping the lukewarm drink.

"Have you butted heads with anyone at work recently?" Jay asked, knowing his brothers stubbornness very well.

"No." Will rolled his eyes. "I've been under Goodwin's strong scrutiny after the last stunt. Go ask anyone, I've been good."

And for a second, nothing felt as heavy but such a feeling didn't last.

"Antonio and Kevin are back." Trudy suddenly appeared in the doorway of the breakroom causing both of them to flinch. "Go see them downstairs."

*****

"My CI works in a restaurant. When I reached out, his story matched up with ours." Antonio started, standing tall besides the computer screen where Kevin was trying to connect it to the USB they were given.

"At the same time Will called us, a different woman came and ordered a takeaway with a kid he said looks a lot like Faith."

Will felt his heart rate picking up the more Antonio spoke. Hearing all of this felt like a fever dream, he didn't want to get his hopes up just in case they reached another dead end.

The camera footage started to play, Kevin skipping it when nothing was happening, only to abruptly replay it when someone walked in.

All they could see was the back of the woman, her black hair in a braid, scarf wrapped around her neck with a long jacket on. As Will's eyes studied the stranger, he followed her outstretched arm to-

Faith

Will's breath hitched at the sight of his little girl who hadn't seen since the early hours of the morning when he dropped her off to school. He held his breath, watching closely to see if a single hair was misplaced on her body or to try and see what she was feeling from either her scrunched up eyebrows or her quivering lips.

But he couldn't see anything.

The woman went to the counter, ordered her food and stood there for however long it took for the food to be made. Only when she was handed a carrier bag with several containers did she finally turn around and show her face.

Will's face paled in recognition instantly.

"What's wrong Will?" Jay noticed his change immediately, his question causing everyone in the room to turn and look at him. "Do you recognise her?"

Will swallowed harshly, blinking repeatedly to bring himself out of shock.

"Yeah, it's Faith's mum."

*****

With this newfound information, it didn't take Intelligence long to track her down.

Stephanie Brooks, 'Steph' was what she insisted everyone call her. For just over a year, she was Will's girlfriend and as of five years ago, she was Faiths absent mother.

Ever since that night five years ago, Will never thought he'd see his ex again but here he was, sitting in the back of his brothers truck as he waited for Intelligence to get his daughter back.

Once they had her name, they found the car she had under her name in Chicago and the place she was renting out as of three months ago. Three months of which she had been watching them under a microscope.

Will actually had to go be sick in the toilet when Kim turned around with all of Stephanie's activities since she arrived in Chicago, all of which suspiciously looked very familiar and aligned with everything he and Faith did recently.

That aside, all Will had to do now was wait.

Jay and Kevin stood in front, Kevin ready to kick the door down before Jay could go in first. All they were waiting for was for Voight's signal.

"Now!"

Within seconds, they were all entering the bungalow, guns out and pointed in any direction, covering all corners as they searched for Stephanie.

"Clear!"

They all went separate directions, covering every room in search of any life and soon enough, they found their culprit.

She screamed.

"Stephanie Brooks, your under arrest..." Adam went on, reciting the words they all had memorised for years now, his gun lowered slightly as Antonio went forward to handcuff her.

"What, no! You're crazy!" She shouted, struggling against Antonio's grip. Despite the cheap bungalow she rented, she was dressed as if ready for a night out. Her hair was curled, makeup perfect, heels and a tight fitted dress on.

"Kidnapping?" She scoffed, continuing to struggle as she was forced onto her feet. "She's my child, my daughter!"

"You can't take her from me." She told them, getting more riled up when she saw Adam rolling his eyes at her. "I want my lawyer, you have no right to take my daughter from me."

On the other side of the bungalow, Jay heard nothing but thundering in his ears as he frantically looked up and down for his niece. Nearly every room had been covered and they hadn't found her yet-

Jay felt his heart break the second Faith was in his sight.

He found her stuffed in the bathtub shivering. He had to kick down the door, finding her with zip ties around her wrists and ankles, sat in the bathtub with on her knickers and vest on.

Faith started crying.

Without another thought, Jay dropped his gun and rushed forward, kneeling at the edge of the bathtub before picking her up and dropping her into his lap.

"Oh Faith." Jay sighed, wrapping his arms around her as she curled into him. "It's okay, your safe, Jay Jay's got you now."

As sobs racked her little body, Jay took out his knife and carefully cut the zip ties off. As soon as the were chucked to the side, she wrapped her arms as far as they could around his torso.

Standing up, Jay took strides out the bathroom and made his way outside. Hailey found him on the way, taking her scarf off with Kim not too far behind taking her jacket off.

Both garments swaddled Faith, protecting her bare limbs from the torturous snow but she continued to shiver.

Jay felt himself breathing easier with her in his arms but Will was firmly on his mind.

Only a metre away from the premises did Jay find Will who was already bounding towards them.

"Faith, look." Jay gently poked her, watching her carefully pick her head up and turn in the direction Jay was pointing.

The cry she let out, it would forever haunt him.

"Faith."

Jay handed her over to his older brother who's arms encased her small body. Will dipped his face in her hair, inhaling the comforting smell that he never wanted to forget.

"Oh baby. It's okay, it's okay." Will repeated as she sobbed, showing no signs of stopping any time soon. "Daddy's got you."

Will pressed several kisses wherever he could: in her hair, her forehead, her ear poking out from her curls, her cheek anywhere. His arms tightened in their embrace and if it wasn't for Jay who was supporting him, he would fallen into the snow as soon as he lost all feeling in his legs.

Will could barely hear his own thoughts over Faith's gut wrenching cries. Somehow, her tears weren't running dry. To see her in such a state but to have her back and safe with him, Will finally let his emotions get the better of him.

He sniffled, hiding his face in her wild curls he always struggled to tame, his tears dropping like rain but his cries were muffled. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to even out his breathing, Jay's hand on his back comfortingly rubbing circles kept him somewhat sane.

"We're driving to Med." Jay told him, directing the father-daughter duo towards his truck.

Sitting in the back, the outside world no longer existed, his entire universe was sat in his lap. Will had lost track of time, she had been continuously crying but Faith was silent now as she was knocked out, crying herself to sleep, that's how tired she was. All he could hear was the occasional soft snore, but he could feel everything from her rising chest against his own, her curls that needed to be brushed, her skin that was slowly warming up from both his own body heat and the garments wrapped around her and the tears that were drying on his shirt.

Will felt like he could finally start to relax.

*****

Faith remained in Will's arms at Med, even when he woke her up, neither of them made any move of letting go.

As soon as they got to the hospital, Will was surrounded by all his colleagues, all riddled with stress that was slowly disappearing when they saw Faith.

Currently, Natalie was doing the standard tests, letting Will do all the convincing which wasn't a lot. As soon as he asked, Faith complied.

"I'll go grab some heating blankets." Natalie said, stepping back as she finished off. "I'll make sure to put a rush on these."

"Thanks Nat." Will said, letting Faith curl back into his embrace.

"It's no problem." She smiled, her eyes looking down at the little girl, the sight of father and daughter making her think of Owen. "We're all just glad she's safe and mostly unharmed."

Will tried not to think of the scrapes and clotting up scabs that littered her body. He hadn't seen any of them till they got to Med, his chest restricting to know she had been hurt and he wasn't there to relieve her of the pain.

"Thank Ethan for me." Will added when Natalie was about to leave. "Faith loves the my little pony band aids."

And with that, they were left alone for the first time surrounded by the muffled sounds of the bustling department and the occasional beeps of machinery and the faint drips of the iv.

Despite being a doctor for years, Will found it difficult to see the iv needle in Faith. To have two worlds collide, Will would never wish this upon any parent.

Small pokes to his collarbone caught his attention, Faith poking it ever so gently as she stared up at him imploringly with the widest eyes that still glistened, their colour identical to the woman who was going behind bars.

"Missed you." She whispered, voice breaking towards the end. It was the first time she had spoken since she found her and the two words made his eyes water.

"I missed you too. Missed you so much baby." Will replied, tucking her hair behind her ears so he could see her whole face. "I'm so sorry baby. Daddy loves you so much."

A smile appeared on her cherry lips, her dimples not too far behind. Seeing them made it feel like nothing was wrong with the world and only the two of them mattered.

"Home?" She asked, her voice filled with so much innocence and hope that Will has to give himself some time before replying.

"Not yet, I'm sorry bubbles." He apologised, rubbing circles into her back. "Jay Jay still needs to come back and Maggie needs to bring you some medicine. She might even ask you to sleepover."

For once, Will was glad she was so eager to stay at his workplace. She had such wonderment surrounding his job, the thought of sleeping over at his work was almost a dream come true.

To finally see her mood pick up, her eyes glistening now with newfound happiness at the prospect of a sleepover, unaware of the connotations it had, Will allowed himself to feel good.

For now, all that mattered was that his daughter was rightfully back with her father and surrounded by family that would do anything for her.

#one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #onechicago #chicago med #chicago pd #one chicago fanfiction #will halstead #jay halstead #will halstead fanfic #will halstead oneshot #jay halstead imagine #chicago x oc #will halstead x oc #original character

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moonlightazriel · 4 months

Text

Son of the Darkness Epilogue /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 625

Notes: It’s a bittersweet feeling as SOD is finished, this was my first multichapter series and I love it so much, it was a very nice journey.

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Y/N sighed, her hands resting on her desk as she sipped the warm tea, a soft knock sounded on the other side of the door, and as the door opened, a male stepped in.

“High Lady.” He bowed his head a little. “This appeared today, it’s for you.” He approached the table and left the letter on top of the papers that were scattered around.

“Thank you, Yur.” She said and the male just nodded, leaving her office. She reached for the letter, no name on it, but she opened the envelope, grabbing the paper inside.

“Dear Y/N!

It’s been a while since we saw each other, things have been great ever since our last encounter. Nyx is growing up so fast, it makes my heart ache with the change.

Nesta and Cassian are happily enjoying their mated life, training the priestesses and whoever wants to join them in combat.

Elain is out in Spring Court with Lucien, the two of them are doing a great job in rebuilding Spring alongside Tamlin, and slowly learning about their bond. Elain told me she plans to accept it soon.

We’ve been happy, and we miss you dearly, but I’m afraid things aren’t as good as we thought, as things with the Mortal Queens are still tense and a new threat looms in the dark.

Rhys doesn’t want to disturb, he says that you and Az need your peace, but I know he is distressed, that he hasn’t been sleeping, fearing that we’re forced to go to battle again.

From a High Lady to another, I beg for your help. We need to prepare for whatever is coming.

Love, Feyre!”

The words made her heart twist on her chest, what could it be now? She clenched her fists, the thought of another thing to disturb their well deserved peace made her blood boil.

She got up, going after her mate, the letter clutched in hands. She found him by the sparring ring, Eris was there, she had no idea they were even coming today. Eva quickly wrapped her from behind.

“I missed you baby.” She says and Y/N smiles at her.

“We missed you too.” She replies, still feeling tense. Azriel immediately turns to her, blocking Eris and striding towards his wife.

“Something wrong?” He asks, feeling her distress through the bond. His hand rested on her belly.

“They need us.” She said, letter in hand. Azriel quickly reads through it.

“I’m sorry but we can’t go.” He replies.

“Of course we can, I still can handle myself Az.” He rolled his eyes.

“You’re four months pregnant, woman.” He pointed and Y/N shrugged.

“I still beat your ass any time.” She argues. “I’m not dying Azriel, I can fight just as well as I could.” Azriel held his mate closer.

“Please, reconsider.” He pouted and she pinched his cheek.

“No! Now we need to get ready, all of us.” She looked around, Eva and Eris nodded but Azriel still didn’t want her risking her life.

“There’s nothing I can say to make you give up?” He begged.

“I never ran away from danger, and I certainly don’t plan to do it now.” She rubbed her belly.

“Okay, but if I feel like you’re in danger, no matter how small, I’m protecting you, and only you, you’re my priority.” He warned.

“Such a Mother Hen.” She joked, pulling her mate in for a kiss. “We will be safe Az, with you, we’re always safe.” She reassured him.

“I can’t say no to my mate.” He finally gave in. “I bet they will be quite shocked about you.” He pointed to the round belly forming.

“Let’s just say that I love to do a big entrance.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff @patdsinner33 @justdreamstars @dr4g0ngirl

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #son of the darkness #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar

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farfromharry · 8 days

Text

Let it be | Dating Stiles Stilinski

pov: you’re dating Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Between werewolf stuff and having to now babysit Jackson, you and Stiles didn’t get much alone time. So any opportunity to head out on a date was taken and savoured. But tonight was different, tonight you decided was the night you were going to tell Scott you were together.

Word count - 3472

Warnings - language

Based on: season one, episode ten

. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Let it be by The Beatles ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ .

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Chasing after Jackson’s dumbass on a Saturday was not your ideal way to spend your weekend. You’d tried to worm your way out of it with sly kisses and puppy dog eyes to your boyfriend, hoping to butter him up enough that he’d just let you sleep in instead. But it backfired completely, he still dragged you out of bed and out of the house with a simple statement that you had to go babysit Jackson from the Argents. This was all Peter’s fault and you were really cursing him right now.

“Don’t you think he can look after himself?” you tried for possibly the thousandth time from the backseat of your boyfriend’s jeep. Scott just sighed again. “No, and you know why. So please stop asking.”

When you pulled into the empty parking lot you could already see Chris Argent making conversation with the boy you were looking for, the one thing you really could’ve done without. It meant you actually had to engage with Jackson, rather than just watching him from afar.

The rock music from Stiles’ radio was blasting, that plus the screech of the car’s tires alerted the two males of your arrival. “Yo,” Scott greeted. Stiles nodded. “What’s up?”

You stayed silently, firmly placed in your seat, intent on not interacting with Jackson for the sake of your own sanity. You really didn’t like him, not that your friends did. He was just so unbelievably unbearable to talk to.

Scott pretended like you hadn’t just been watching them from a distance. “Is everything okay?”

Chris greeted the boy but you could sense the irritation even from where you were sitting. You'd obviously interrupted the start of his plan and he wasn’t happy about it, but that’s exactly what you were there for. “Your friend here was just having car trouble. I’m taking a look.”

There was so much tension between the older man and your bestfriend that it could literally have been cut with a blunt knife. Jackson was shuffling awkwardly, feeling like he’d been caught in the middle of two parents fighting, unsure what he was meant to do or say. He didn’t even know why Mr Argent was being so kind to him, nor why you, Scott and Stiles suddenly wanted to be best buds.

“There’s a shop right down the street, I’m sure they’ll have a tow truck.”

“Do you want a ride?” Stiles asked. Scott pushed open his door, making it obvious that he’d let him in if he agreed. You knew this was the plan but part of you was actually hoping he’d say no so you didn’t have to sit with his arrogant ass for however long.

“Come on Jackson. You’re way too pretty to be out here all by yourself.” You snorted in the back seat, muttering a ‘yeah right’ that earned you a light swat to your knee, a quick glare from your boyfriend having you holding your hands up in surrender.

Scott just stared at him, lowering his eyebrows slightly to try and emphasise the fact that he really needed to get in the car. Jackson just nodded, heading over to where the door to the passenger side was still open.

“Hey boys!” The roar of an engine had the four of your heads snapping back in the direction of Allison’s dad. “Told you I knew a few things about cars.”

The four of you watched him strut his way back over to his own car, abandoning whatever his plan for Jackson had originally intended to be. You all saw him drive away with just as much intention as Stiles had stopped here when you found the rich kid. It was silent for a few seconds between you all as you and Stiles clambered out of the car to stand around outside the vehicle with the other two teenage boys.

Jackson was the one to break the silence, rather aggressively you may add. “What, are you following me now?”

“Yes, you fucking idiot. You almost gave away everything right there,” Scott responded with a similar level of irritation in his tone.

“What are you talking about?” He looked confused, his head tilting slightly.

“He thinks you’re the second beta. He thinks you’re me!” In a burst of anger he hit his fist into the door of Stiles' jeep, the younger boy gasping slightly. “Dude my jeep.”

You just giggled, earning yourself another slight glare and a small push. When you gathered your footing again he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting your body lean slightly into him as you watched the two teens bicker.

“I can hear your heart beating from a mile away, literally! Now he thinks that there’s something wrong, and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn’t kill you too!” You truly believed the anger was unnecessary. The two were just yelling nonsense at each other at this point, and the other had no care for whatever came out of their mouth. Jackson’s mind was made up, and so was Scotts, neither willing to listen to anything but their thoughts; especially a certain Porsche driver, but that’s the way he’d always been.

Scott once again stepped to hit the door of Stiles’ car in his blind fury, this time it being you who stepped in to move him away from that area.

“Okay, okay. How about we just step away from Stiles’ jeep.” Your boyfriend sent you a grateful smile as you guided your friend forwards a little so he wasn’t within hitting distance of the car behind him. Stiles almost let out a verbal breath of relief at the gesture. Your attention was quickly drawn back to the two males who hadn’t been paying attention to anyone but each other, you and Stiles may as well not even be there, it’s not like they’d notice. Hell, Argent could come back and they probably wouldn’t notice.

“You know what, this is your problem, not mine, okay? I didn’t say anything, which means you’re the one that’s gonna get me killed, okay?” Jackson said. Apparently your idea hadn’t worked, especially not when the next thing the boy did was shove your friend right into the passenger door, increasing Stiles’ frustration. “This is your fault.”

“Can we stop hitting my jeep?”

You saw the two go for each other, taking the initiative to step in and place a hand on either of their chests. Trying to be the reasonable one. If Scott went wolf mode on Jackson, he wouldn’t survive that kind of attack. Although you’d love to see him prove he couldn’t protect himself from even the babiest of werewolves. “Just stop, all right?” you insisted.

“When they come after you, I won’t be able to protect you. I can’t protect anyone.” A chill ran up your spine when his eyes flickered over to you, your heart sinking in your chest slightly at what that was meant to imply. With a quick over to Stiles you confirmed that he was wondering too. “Why are you looking at us?”

You went unanswered as Scott turned his head back to face the boy in front of him, leaving you and Stiles to ponder what he meant silently.

Jackson broke yet another silence with his spite this time. “You know what? Now you have to do it. Get me what I want and I will be fine protecting myself.”

He was desperately trying to get him to see reason. “All it does is make things worse.”

He scoffed. “Oh really? You can hear anything you want and run faster than humanly possible. Sounds like a real hardship, McCall.”

“Yeah, I might be able to run faster, but I can also hear stuff like my girlfriend telling people she doesn’t trust me anymore, right before breaking up with me.” You could see him getting slightly emotional, the breakup was still very much a sore spot for him, especially with the way he was being taunted by Jackson through it all too. So you decided to speak up in hopes of doing what your friend couldn’t.

“Jackson,” his head turned towards you. “He’s not lying. I’ve witnessed all of it, first hand, this hasn’t been easy for him.” Your friend nodded along. “It ruins your life,” Stiles added.

He shook his head with a quiet chuckle, his eyes flickering to look Scott dead in the eye. “It ruined your life.”

With that statement he headed back to his car, climbing in his Porsche and taking off like Scott hadn’t just been trying to save his life, a muttered ‘asshole’ slipping out of your lips.

»»——⍟——««

Another date was what you and Stiles believed you deserved after being stuck basically babysitting the Whittemore kid for days on end. He’d told you to dress fancy, a difference from your usual dates but you didn’t mind, and then he’d surprised you by taking you to an exceptionally fancy restaurant for the only Stilinski child.

It’d been bliss, the entire night. He’d made you laugh, he’d complimented you more than you could possibly even begin to count and god you were so in love with that boy. The last thing you wanted to do was finally tell your best friend about the two of you, now felt like a good time, and that’d really complete your night.

“Hey, Sti,” you called. His attention had previously been focused on how much of his food he could fit in his mouth at once, so you found much amusement in watching him try to quickly swallow it all down so he could respond. You were patient with him, but you also found it quite funny so you were going to enjoy the sight as long as you could.

He nearly choked once or twice but eventually cleared his throat. Squeaking out a response. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we should tell Scott? I know we were waiting for the perfect moment but, everything just seems to keep getting worse so maybe now’s a good time. And it’s been so long and I-'' He shushed you calmly, taking your hand in his and resting them on the table, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m sure he’d understand if we waited. But we can tell him whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, biting back a grin. The only thing holding you back from loving on Stiles every minute of the day was that Scott didn’t know, so if you told him it’d just make everything easier.

“Stop by his house after dessert?” you suggested. He nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it gently. “Whatever you want, lover.”

You stuck to the plan, heading to the McCall house after you’d finished your desserts. You were positively stuffed and so full of love and joy in that very moment that you actually thought if Scott hated the idea of you being together as much as you feared he would that even that couldn’t dampen your mood.

Stiles was the one to actually knock on the door, something about you claiming you were much too nervous to do it, like heart nearly beating out of your chest nervous. Which only increased tenfold when Scott opened the door to you both.

“Hey guys..” He eyed you both in your nice outfits suspiciously, his hand lingering on his front door as he waited for you to tell him something insane. He knew you’d both done something, because you wouldn’t have those ‘I can’t wait to tell you what I did’ looks on your faces if not. An expression of Stiles’ that he was actually incredibly familiar with. “What are you doing here?”

“We have to tell you something,” Stiles announced. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh really?” His eyes trailed to the hand Stiles had slyly placed on your lower back, and he inhaled deeply as he realised this was probably going to be the moment you let the secret out. The same secret he’d known for weeks.

You couldn’t contain it anymore, your smile wide as the words finally blurted from your mouth. “Me and Stiles are dating!”

The boy beside you rolled his eyes, mentally cursing you for spoiling the secret when you were the one who insisted on breaking it to him easily. That certainly wasn’t easy, you’d basically just yelled the information in his face. He seemed rather unphased though, which slightly confused you both. Why was he not more shocked?

“I know.” Those were not the words you expected him to say, both your faces morphing into ones of similar confusion. “You know?” you simultaneously asked. It was actually kind of creepy if Scott said so. He nodded his head in confirmation, doing nothing to explain how he knew or how long he’d known. “For how long?”

He paused as he thought about it before a lightbulb went off in his head. “Remember that night at the animal clinic, when you went to get some air.”

Your jaw gaped, eyes widening slightly as you stared in disbelief. “That long, and you didn’t think to say anything?”

He shrugged, smiling at the two of you as he noticed how Stiles’ arm had wrapped around your waist and you were subconsciously leaning into his side. He would’ve noticed the little things like the small touches and looks even if he didn’t already know you were dating, and he would’ve pieced it together eventually. “I thought if you wanted me to know then you would’ve told me. I wanted you to tell me on your own terms.”

It was actually a rather sweet gesture, one that had your heart warming a little bit that he’d taken that extra care to let you get comfortable with it.

“So you aren’t mad we kept it from you for so long?” you asked. That was the one question that had worried you the most when you thought about telling him. You didn’t want to- You couldn’t deal with him being angry at you on top of everything else the three of you were suddenly going through this year. He shook his head, pulling you into a quick hug to reassure you. “I’m happy for you both. And I’m not angry, but I’m glad you finally told me, cause now I can stop pretending I didn’t already know.”

After visiting Scott you headed home with Stiles, planning on staying the night with him to make the rest of your night just as sweet as the beginning had been.

You entered the Stilinski household with a wider grin than Stiles had ever seen, the boy following in right behind you as the two of you headed towards the kitchen to put away the leftovers from the restaurant. Just for a moment everything felt impossibly perfect. You halted in your spot though when you found Noah sitting at the table adjacent to the kitchen, a bottle of some kind of alcohol beside him and multiple case files scattered in the space surrounding his exhausted figure.

“Hey Noah,” you greeted sweetly. He raised his head from his work, offering you a short wave and his son a small smile. “How was your date?”

Stiles made an overexaggerated groaning noise. “The food was to die for.”

“Not that you even tasted it with how quick you were eating,” you teased, poking at his stomach lightly to further your point. “Is that all you can remember from your night?”

He grinned, momentarily forgetting his dad was there as he pulled you into his chest, intending on leaning in to kiss you before the Sheriff cleared his throat. The boy nodded, suddenly remembering where he was. “My date was lovely too, very beautiful girl.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat that rushed to your cheeks as you dipped out of his arms so he wouldn’t sense your embarrassment.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun.” Stiles obviously knew his dad inside out, so just from the way he delivered that sentence he could tell there was something major bothering him, and he hated to see it. His dad deserved nothing but happiness, and it hurt his heart a little bit that he didn’t also feel that way.

“Why don’t you go up to my room? I’ll be there in a little bit.” You nodded, sensing it had something to do with him talking to Noah. You pecked his lips lightly before heading upstairs like he’d said, leaving him alone in the room with his father.

It was a good while before he came back, so you busied yourself with filing through some of his stuff while he was gone, after you’d changed into some comfier clothes that happened to be his. You shouldn’t have, but it was only little things like pictures or the little scribbles he’d made in various notebooks of his.

You were focused on a certain picture of the two of you when you were around seven, that’d been pinned on his wall when he came barging into the room, finding you sitting at his desk chair. You turned to face him, a nostalgic smile on your lips as you turned it so he could see, not that he was focused on it at all. “D’you remember this day? Scott was on vacation and you were missing him, so your mom took us both to get-” “I’m a horrible person.”

You frowned, setting the picture down on his desk before shuffling over to him. He barely even took note of the fact you were wearing his clothes, a sight that would usually bring a lovesick smile to his face. He was too far gone in his thoughts to even notice. His hands were frantically running over the short hairs on his head, snapping out of his daze when he felt your gentle touch on his forearms.

“What happened?” you asked quietly. He sighed, eyes welling up a little bit in a way that made your heart clench. “I-I asked if my dad needed help on the case, and he asked me to pour him an ounce of whiskey,” you nodded, eyebrows furrowing to ask if that was all. “I poured way too much because I thought it’d get him to talk about the Hale case with me, b-but he ended up just getting sad and talking about my mom.”

“Oh bub.” He obviously felt guilty about it, bringing a frown to your lips as you guided him into your arms. There was a barely there whimper emitting from his throat, but you heard it, holding him impossibly tighter as you tried to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

He wasn’t listening though, and it was getting fairly late, to the point where the best idea was probably to just head straight to bed rather than having a long winded discussion about how he shouldn’t feel guilty. Which would probably only end in him overthinking it anyway.

“Why don’t we just go to sleep? hm?” you whispered. “Then you don’t have to think about it.” He nodded, following you to his bed where the two of you crawled in together. The boy immediately clinged to you like a scared child, his arm slipping over your waist as the big spoon so he knew you were there in his arms. “Goodnight Stiles.” “G’night Y/N/N.”

You weren’t bothered until mere moments after you’d finally fell asleep, pulling a groan from your lips as you buried your face deeper into Stiles’ pillow. He huffed, rolling over to blindly grab his phone to stop the horrible blaring noise. He must’ve accepted the call because you were soon listening to Stiles’ sleepily mumbling something to whoever was on the other end of the phone. But his words eventually became much clearer when something unbelievable was said by the other person. “Okay, okay, I’m on my way.”

You protested when he tried to leave the bed, shaking your head to tell him you really didn’t want him to leave you, not when you were so comfortable how you were. “I have to go meet Scott, he needs my help with something.” His hand gently ran over your hair, the motion only managing to lull you back to sleep.

“Do I have to go?” you questioned. He confirmed that you didn’t and you took that as your sign to drift off back to sleep in what was Stiles’ ridiculously comfy bed. “I’ll come back later, you just get some more sleep.”

You hummed, happily accepting the kiss he planted on your head as he left to get dressed before he could go meet his friend. You didn’t know what kind of trouble they were planning on getting into, but you were too tired to care all that much. “Sleep tight, babe.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski x you #teen wolf #teen wolf fic

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lala1267 · 10 months

Text

Take me to Paris

Summary: dilf elvis takes his lil baby girl to Paris, they flirt and be cute.

Notes: Ally calls Elvis "daddy" is this story it's used in a non sexual way so dw. This is just a little piece of writing that has been rotting in my drafts for a few days. And btw I'm working on loads of pieces of writing currently, so it will take some time for me to upload your requests 🩷🩷

Allison (ally for short) had been dating Elvis Presley for a good 2 years. She went from just a young girl with daddy issues to a girl who calls Elvis her daddy. Her father was never there for her, so Elvis took that spot. He was 39, and she was only 18. Of course, the press had a blast, creating rumours:

Elvis is dating a child! Is Elvis a pedophile? Is she a victim?

These were only some of the many headlines that covered the magazines. But that didn't get in the way of their undenying love for eachover. Ally was his little baby girl, and he was her daddy. He would care for her as if she were his own. He would cradle her at her lows and dance with her at her highs. His pretty baby. He was protective of her. If another man would look her way, he would throw a fit. If she layed eyes on another man, God knows what would happen. She was his, and no one else's.

They were currently on a private jet on the way to Paris. Elvis had promised her a trip to Paris if she was a good girl. That meant not throwing tantrums and not being a crybaby. That was a hard task for Ally, but she miraculously did it. Ally sat in Elvis' lap as he read a book. She twirled her caramel hair around her fingers as her bug eyes scanned the lavish jet. One of Elvis' arms was around her waist as the other held his book that he was sucked into. Ally was filled with excitement and happiness. She needed to get it out. She looked at Elvis as a large smile plastered over her delicate face. She tugged onto Elvis' silk shirt with her small hand, aching for his attention.

"I'm so excited, aren't you?"

She said cheerfully as she bounced in his lap happily. His didn't even bother to pry his eyes from his book.

"Mhm"

Ally's smile faded slightly as she heard his blunt answer. It quickly reappeared before she began to speak again.

"Well I'm so happy that you are taking me to Paris!"

She said excitedly.

"Mhm"

He said. Ally's smile dropped as she heard him.

"What are we gonna do there?"

She asked in an upbeat manner. Elvis just shrugged his shoulders, not bothered to look up at her. She frowned.

"Daddy, why are you ignoring me!?"

She raised her voice as she spoke. Finally, Elvis' eyes shifted towards her. They had an underlying anger to them.

"For goodness sake, I ain't ignoring ya!"

He exclaimed.

"But you are! It's not nice!"

She said before looking at him with her bambi eyes. Elvis looked at her with anger before pointing to the empty seat next to him.

"Get off my lap."

"What, why?"

She asked, offended.

"I ain't gonna have a little drama queen on my lap, not until you fix your attitude. Now, off."

He grunted as his long finger was still pointing at the cream lever seat. Ally looked at him and huffed.

"No."

Elvis quickly gripped her hips and lifted her up with ease. He aggressively placed her in the seat before looking at her with fury. He picked up his book and began to read once more. Ally looked up at him as if she was going to say something, but she made the right decision to shut her mouth before she really got under Elvis' skin. She crossed her arms angrily before looking out of the window. She couldn't help but feel a bit scared. She was so high up in the sky, but she wasn't in Elvis' arms. She needed him to comfort her. Ally looked through the window before biting her nails and moving away from it slightly. The sound of the engines just added to her nerves. She brought her hands up to her ears, silencing any noise. She glued her doll eyes shut in hopes of easing her fear.

Elvis looked down at her, his brows furrowed, and a slight frown formed on his plush lips. He knew that she was scared. He could read her like an open book. He picked her up with his big hands and cradled her in his lap. His fingers ran through her long hair.

"Aww baby, don't be scared."

He whispered into her ear as he held her close to him. He could never stay mad at her, even if he tried.

At the Hotel

Ally jumped onto the king bed. Her long hair spralled out over the white sheets. She looked as fragile as the cotton sheets. Elvis followed behind. He was carrying all of the luggage. He placed it on the floor before he checked himself out in the mirror. He messed with her velvet black hair a bit before straightening out his clothes. Ally walked up behind him before hugging him like a teddy bear. Elvis chuckled before looking down at her. He stroked her head softly.

"Can we go and do something, like see the Eifill Tower?"

She asked in a high-pitched tone. Elvis pulled away from her hug before looking down at her.

"Baby, it's 10 pm, we haven't even got settled into the hotel."

Elvis said as he looked down at her. Ally looked up at him.

"So?"

Her large eyes looked into his.

"Baby, it's late."

"Pleaseeee?"

She pleaded as she put on her best puppy eyes. Her eyes shot diamonds into his.

"Fine. You make me do some crazy things."

He said before walking over to the luggage and grabbing the hotel room keys. A large grin played on Ally's face. She followed him out of the door like a lost puppy.

They finally arrived at the tower. It was illuminated by bright golden/white lights that twinkled and shined like the stars in the night sky. Elvis hugged Ally from behind as they both looked up at the tower. Ally's hair blew everywhere as the cold night wind hit her. Her cold cheeks were bright pink, and her lips were a cool purple. The moonlight played in the dark green branches as Elvis placed candy sweet kisses onto her neck and cheek. Elvis' large hands were wrapped around her as if she were a Christmas present. She felt as fragile and satiny as silk, and she smelt of fresh vanilla and roses. Elvis' precious hair messed in the wind.

"Do ya like it baby?"

Elvis asked. His warm breath hit her collarbones. She turned her head to look up at him.

"I love it!"

She said with the sweetest and most innocent smile. Elvis bent his head down to kiss her cold lips. He pulled away to speak.

"That's good to know baby."

Ally turned herself around so that she was directly facing Elvis. She looked up at him before lifting her delicate self on her tiptoes. She puckered up her lips before kissing Elvis. Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled.

"I love you, Daddy."

She said as she looked up into his deep blues.

"I love you too, baby."

Elvis picked her up with his big arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She buried her head in the crescent of his shoulder. His hands traced along her body. The smell of Elvis' woody cologne lingered I'm her nose. He smelt like heaven. Their little lovey dovey moment was interrupted by a round of loud bangs and cackles. Ally jumped. Elvis held onto Ally tighter as the bangs continued. They both looked up at the sky. It was fireworks. An array of rainbows and sparkles decorated the sky. The pale moonlight was no longer visible as the fireworks illuminated the sky. Elvis pointed up towards it.

"Look baby."

He said happily. Ally looked. She began to smile and giggle as the bangs kept on coming. Elvis joined her in her laughter. Their childish laughter could be heard from a mile away. They were truly in love. They were inseparable.

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 1 year

Note

Hello there! I don't know if anyone has asked for this, but do you happen to know any fic on which Stiles and Derek are colleague nurses or doctors, and they meet each other in that setting?

Hey @darkmind-ofmine! Here you go.

(^gpoy at work. true facts)

Pretty Eyes by Inell

(1/1 I 1,720 I Teen)

Stiles doesn’t intend to become a resident during a pandemic, but he’s learned to roll with whatever life throws his way.

The Anatomy of an FBI Agent by orphan_account

(2/? I 7,347 I Mature)

Stiles nodded. It sounded like a day full of machinery and doctors muttering over his scans.

“Will I be hanging out with you or one of the babies?”

Dr. Cutie grinned. “How could I trust them with my most prized patient?”

Stiles laughed.

He barely noticed the pain.

Bet On It by IDreamOnlyOfYou (lauren3210)

(1/1 I 8,343 I Mature)

Stiles is an RN and Derek the attending trauma surgeon at Beacon Hills Hospital. They're constantly arguing, much to the amusement of their colleagues, who ultimately decide to take bets on when the sexual tension will finally explode. The only question is, who will win the jackpot?

5 times one of the guys try to push Derek and Stiles together, and the time they worked it out all on their own.

Complications by DIEMONDS

(3/? I 17,273 I Teen)

“We can still be strangers. Strangers that hook up.” Stiles had to mentally curse at himself for liking Derek’s smirk. He honestly couldn’t help it, the man’s smile was too gorgeous.

“No!” Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “What we did-you and me-that cannot happen again! You’re an attending, and I’m your intern! It’s wrong on so many levels.”

(this isn’t exactly) where you’d want me by decideophobia

(1/1 I 19,070 I Teen)

“Do you even have any nice and soothing words in your repertoire?” Stiles asks, holding still while McBroody shines a light into his eyes. “Or is it only me who they let you loose on?”

“I actually just downloaded a new set of comforting phrases to use on patients this morning but I haven’t had a chance to listen to and internalize them yet. I do know how to say, Good news: you’re not dead, and We only need to take off one of your legs, though.”

OR, the one where Stiles keeps ending up in the ER and Derek almost gets brain damage from so much stupid.

Hazardous to Our Health by HenleyBeck

(6/? I 21,590 I Explicit)

Derek has just moved back to Beacon Hills and he works at the hospital with his sister. He loves his job, he loves the people he works with and then there's Stiles. Stiles who seems to pop up everywhere that Derek is and it doesn't help that everybody loves the kid. But Stiles is also the Chief of Surgery's son and there's no way he can get involved with Stiles right?

Wrong. As a doctor, Derek knows that certain things can be hazardous to one's health but sometimes it's nice to live dangerously.

Yin To His Yang by weirdwithhumor

(9/? I 26,125 I Teen)

Derek always wanted kids. He just thought he would find the perfect man, get married and settled down first.

He just never thought he would be left pregnant, unmated at nearly 30, and on a journey to become a single father.

But, Doctor! by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 30,269 I Mature)

“We had to splint a girl’s leg in a ditch,” Scott says excitedly.

“Bro, you sound way too happy about that,” Stiles complains, opening up his bag and pulling out a Twinkie.

Derek removes it from his hand silently and replaces it with an apple. Stiles scowls at him for a second then bites into it, regardless. Derek sits back and lets the group discuss the merits of dramatic lifesaving feats for winning over the ladies. Scott is convinced it’ll help impress Allison; Isaac thinks Scott’s a loser. Stiles—

Stiles is falling asleep on Derek’s shoulder.

AND

@wolfspurr suggested this one!

No Superman by WhoNatural

(6/6 I 48,830 I Explicit I Sterek)

(AKA The Sterek Scrubs AU)

In which Stiles learns that med school didn’t prepare him for much at all; even the most epic of bromances can be weakened with the right amount of long, curly hair and dimples; and sometimes, first impressions aren’t all they’re cracked up to be - it’s the digging beneath the bravado that reveals who’s worth getting to know a little better.

Dr. Hale’s probably still a dick, though.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #nurse!derek #nurse!stiles #doctor!derek #submission

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mummybear · 8 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Part Two - Too Much

Words: 4085

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Mention's Of Blood, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, I think that's it! :)

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: Tensions are running high when you discover more than you had ever imagined has happened over the past few months. What you do discover after all this time might only be the tip of the iceberg.

A/N: Hey guys, so this is part two! Thank you to everyone who has read/liked/commented on the first chapter I appreciate it more than you know! This chapter is a little more angsty than the last so I hope you enjoy it, had to bring in momma McCall for this one! Enjoy, and let me know what you think! :D

Chapter 2 - Too Much

The drive back home is silent, the air thick with tension. Almost like nobody dares to speak a word. Stiles flexes his fingers and they move further up your thigh. You have to fight your body's reaction to squirm against the onslaught, you want him closer and you want him to stop all at the same time. You bite your lip when his long fingers brush against the edge of your panties. Fighting every instinct currently battling it out in your psyche, you close your legs, trying to focus on the road ahead, rather than the insatiable man beside you.

Your eyes snap toward Stiles when you hear a deep and pleased rumble coming from him, as he buries his nose in your neck his lips slowly make their way up. Not stopping until his teeth are nibbling at your ear. You can taste the slight hint of blood on your tongue as you continue to bite back the whimper of want building in the back of your throat. Suddenly though, you lose control when his fingers brush against the dampened lace of your panties.

“Is that all for me? So fucking wet,” Stiles rasps his voice almost a growl, as his teeth drag across your ear lobe and another whimper leaves your now parted lips.

“Stiles. Stop, for fuck’s sake,” Scott growls, and you swear that you hear the creek of the steering wheel beneath his grip.

Stiles either doesn’t care what your brother has to say or he just simply doesn’t listen. The next thing you know his lips have dropped to your neck once again, and he’s sucking what you have to assume is going to be a mark into your neck. He releases the skin with a gentle nip of his teeth and he groans when his fingers push your panties to the side, no doubt happy to finally get to your bare skin. You suddenly forget where you are and who you’re with. You can’t explain it, but the next thing you know you’ve parted your thighs, and you’re rolling your hips to get closer to him.

“You want me to make it all better, beautiful?” he growls, dragging two long fingers through your slick.

“Please, Stiles. I need it,” you whimper as those fingers slowly but firmly circle your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet. All fucking mine.” He moans as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you push his hand closer to you. Letting out a shuddered moan when his fingers move to your opening.

“Right. That’s it, I’ve had enough.” Scott snaps, and Stiles pulls you against him right as Scott slams on the breaks.

Stiles grins at you as he slips his fingers between his lips, your gaze is glued to him as he sucks those fingers between his plump lips and moans in pleasure.

Suddenly the back door opens, and it’s almost ripped off of the hinges, you’re dragged from the car by Lydia, apparently you had made it home.

“Hey Lyd’s,” you grin at her dreamily, letting her tug you further away. Leaving just enough room for Scott to barge in.

“Hey Mini, hell of a night, huh?” She smiles, wrapping an arm around you, probably worried you still can’t stand up properly. In truth she’s not totally wrong.

You wince as Scott drags Stiles from the car and roughly slams him against the side of it.

Suddenly it's like you’re doused in reality, as your lust fades a little further into the background. Leaving it so that you’re able to focus once more on your surroundings. What you see leaves your mouth open in shock. Lydia takes your hand and gently squeezes it, while you both watch the scene unfold, but the shock of what you are watching leaves you unable to squeeze back.

Because it looks as if Stiles is fighting against Scott, and Scott doesn’t exactly appear to be finding it very easy to keep Stiles in place. You can’t see Stiles’ face, but you can see Scott’s red Alpha eyes reflected in the window of the car. The sudden roar that cuts through the air even has you scared. You haven’t heard your brother this angry in a long time, and even Lydia flinches beside me as instinctively pulls me closer, while the other wolves bow their heads in submission to their Alpha.

Your hold on Lydia’s hand would be painful for most people, luckily you know she can take it. Scott’s forehead presses against Stiles' as they seem to have a quiet conversation, so that nobody can hear. There’s a collective sigh of relief when Scott steps back and releases Stiles, leaving him to sag back against the car.

However, then the confusion is back for you. The humiliation of what you’d let Stiles do to you in front of everyone in that car, including your big brother, his best friend. You can feel the deep blush as it covers your body. You need to get out of here, you take Lydia by surprise when you yank your hand free from hers, slowly stepping back away from the scene and everyone involved. Almost as one everyone turns to look at you, and your heart hammers painfully in your chest. A tear rolls down your cheek, you just don’t understand, what the hell is going on?

In the right place at the right time, maybe you’d have gone there with Stiles, but not that fast, and certainly not the two places where things had happened tonight. It was almost as though you had no control of your actions, no control of your own body or mind.

“Sadie? Hey, it’s okay. This isn't your fault, none of it is. Just come inside, I think we should all talk.” Scott sounds so sincere, not one look of judgement on his face, he’s stepping closer slowly, like you’re a wounded animal that he’s scared will run if given the opportunity.

The tears are falling now, thick and fast, but you don’t dare to look anywhere that isn’t your brother. Too scared of what you might see on his friends' faces. There’s one direction in particular that you can’t even consider glancing in, because you’re terrified of the look of regret that will be on his face.

You continue to step back though, you need to be anywhere but here and quickly. Your heart is aching painfully, you don’t know what to do, your head hurts so much right now.

“Please, dont,” Scott practically begs, his big brown eyes meeting yours, but when he takes another step towards you, you do the only thing you can. You run.

You don’t even know where you’re going, unable to think straight or see very well in the dark you simply take off. Scott knows you well enough to know that if he follows you, you wouldn’t want to talk about anything right now. So all you hear as you run is your own heartbeat thundering in your ears and the wind whipping around you as you sprint faster than you have in years. You don’t stop until your legs and lungs are burning, only stopping to rest against the railing by the lake. Letting your head rest on your arms, sucking in air the best you can.

When you finally have your breathing under control, you stumble back into the bench behind you and sink into it with a thud. Tilting your head back, you look up at the stars, wishing that anything about tonight had made any sense.

Your lifelong crush had made out with you, in fact you’d even taken things to the next level. You can’t help but think that you should be happy. But so many things about tonight don’t make any sense, and you hate it. You need this night to make sense. You can’t forget the look of desperation on Stiles’ face when it had just been the two of you, even if he liked you a lot, that look, you just don’t understand it completely. You’d known him your entire life and he had never once looked at you that way. It was almost like he was terrified you’d turn him away, even more than you’d been that he would do the same to you. Then there’s that word he’d growled before he’d pounced on you. Mate. What the hell did that mean? Not to mention that purple glow his eyes had. Once you have chalked it up to a trick of the light or something, but you had seen it alot more than once.

Before you can drive yourself insane you hear the crunch of leaves behind you, and you jump up and spin around. But your anger very quickly deflates when you see the one person who always knows how to make everything better. “Mom? What are you doing out here?” you ask in an almost broken whisper. Trying to keep your voice even, though you know it’s pointless, she knows you too well. Not to mention that the person who had sent her here would’ve told her everything anyway.

“Baby, come on. You know better than to try that around me,” she smiles gently, pulling you into her arms as soon as she’s close enough.

You sag against her as she wraps you in her arms, burying your face into her shoulder and the tears come once again. She doesn’t even try to stop the tears, only holds you tighter, until they stop on their own.

When you’ve finally stopped shaking she leads you over to the bench, and you take a seat before she turns you around to face her.

“You want to talk about it, sweetheart?”

“I dunno if I can. I mean this isn’t exactly normal stuff. Even if it was and I wanted to talk, this is why I should have a friend to talk to, but since Callie. I just can’t,” you sniff, trying to block out memories of your best friend.

Callie had been killed last year, thankfully nothing to do with werewolves or the supernatural. Not that it would have made much difference, she was still gone. You missed her like crazy, she knew everything about you and your crazy mixed up family, it never scared her away, she was always there, no matter what was happening. Until that one night. It felt as though your heart had been ripped out when you’d received the news. It still does when you think about it for too long.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. Though part of this is perfectly normal, honey. I know you’ve always had a soft spot for Stiles. I can just listen if you want? You can leave out anything you don’t want to tell me,” she smiles, nudging you gently with her shoulder when you look at her, your face unable to hide the shock that she knew.

“How did you..?”

“How did I know about Stiles?” she chuckles quietly, cupping your cheeks so that you meet her eyes.

“Because, not to be a cliche, but I am your mother.” she winks at that, making you smile, then she shrugs and wraps her arm around your shoulders, “and honestly, I think the only people who didn’t know were Scott and Stiles. Those boys, I swear they haven’t changed since they were kids.”

That fond smile on her face is one you can’t help but share, with a defeated sigh you meet your mothers eyes.

“I know you won’t tell me any details, but something’s going on right? I’m guessing you know Stiles has changed somehow? You just won’t tell me how, right? He has to tell me himself, or Scott?”

“We never could keep anything from you baby girl. Yes, a lot has changed, with Stiles, and otherwise. Honestly I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this. I mean… It’s big, I won’t lie. But I know you can handle this Sadie.”

You swallow the lump which has lodged in your throat as you stare down at your hands, “I’ll try. That’s all I can say, until I actually know what’s going on. Unfortunately I guess we can’t put this off forever.”

You stand and take your mom’s offered hand and the two of you make the short walk back to the house, albeit slowly, she knows you well enough to know that you need time to process everything still.

“If you need space then you tell me. I’ll make sure you damn well get it, Alpha or not, he’s my son and your brother. You know he will do whatever is best for you. If you want, we’ll make them wait until morning? It’s your call, sweetheart.”

“Pretty sure there’s only one thing I can do.”

You straighten your spine and take a deep breath, looking over at the woman on your right. She’s by far the strongest person you’d ever met, and likely ever would meet. You’re pretty sure that you already know what she would do in your position. Clenching your free hand into a fist, you turn to look at her. Melissa McCall could’ve become a victim so many times in her life but she’d never become one, and you intended to follow in her footsteps, no matter how difficult the situation, you wouldn’t let anyone break you.

As if she can read your mind she gives your hand a squeeze and smiles, “that’s my girl.”

When the two of you return home the house is deathly quiet, no sign whatsoever of anyone outside the house. Immediately your mind goes to the worst case scenario and judging by the slow steps your mom is taking, she’s thinking along the same lines.

The front door creaking open is the only sound in the house, and it sounds so much louder when it’s surrounded by the silence. “Maybe they just left?” you whisper hopefully, not even believing the words as you say them.

Almost as if by muscle memory, in the pitch black you wrap your fingers around the end of Stiles’ baseball bat, you’re a little surprised that it’s still here, when he doesn’t appear to be. But you’re not about to complain about having a weapon when you need one. As you move through the kitchen there’s the slight drip of the tap, a sound which seems to almost bounce off of the walls in the silence. You can even hear the sound of the wind whistling against the windows but nothing else.

The hand that’s wrapped around yours tightens further, as you’re pulled closer to your mom’s body. You take another step forward when a thought occurs to you, swallowing your fear you whisper once more.

“What about the basement? We sound proofed it, could they be down there and we’re worried over nothing?”

The moonlight almost seems to light the path as soon as your mom gives you a nod of agreement. The basement had been installed shortly after you’d all gotten Stiles back from the Nogitsune. It had come in handy more than a few times in the past. You feel your nerves escalating, the closer that you get to the basement, the worse your nerves become. You regretfully put the bat down by the door as you carefully turn the doorknob, wincing at the squeak you’re certain will follow. Fully aware that the basement had been sound proofed, and if they are down here, then you wouldn’t know until you open the final door at the bottom of the steps.

With all of that in mind you take the stairs slowly, carefully manoeuvring around the third step down, since that one has always squeaked rather obnoxiously.

Your entire body feels as if it’s shaking from adrenaline and nerves as you reach the bottom of the stairs, wiping your hands on your clothes, you then reach for the door handle. When suddenly the door opens. You stumble back in alarm, grabbing for the baseball bat, which you quickly hold above your head, quickly stepping in front of your mother.

However, you quickly lower the weapon, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when your eyes land on your rather dishevelled looking brother.

“Scott, what the hell is going on?” you ask urgently, hearing a deep growl coming from the room behind him, and the clang of chains is unmistakable.

Your brother gives you a pitying look as he chews nervously on his bottom lip, to your surprise he steps out of the room, gently taking you by the shoulders, he pushes you back into the hallway.

“We should really talk, Sadie. Just come upstairs. Mom could you maybe…” he nods his head towards the door behind him. With a smile she gives your hand a final squeeze, before she releases you. Quickly doing whatever it was he had asked of her, she seemed to know exactly what it was though.

“Come on, we should sit. I’ll even get your favourite ice cream out,” he grins at you, but you know your brother well enough to see that he’s nervous.

“Well, shit. This really must be serious, Scott McCall sharing with the pain in the ass little sister.” Your joke seems to fall on deaf ears as Scott simply sighs, he looks tired, like dead on his feet tired. You gently grab his arm as you both sit on the sofa with the tub of ice cream between you, “Hey, you’re okay, right? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“I’m okay, mostly at least. I just really wish we didn’t need to have this conversation, especially not now, not like this, Sades. I don’t even know where to start.” Scott tells you quietly, dragging a hand over his face, the stubble along his jaw is almost becoming a beard at this point. Something so unlike your brother that you’re surprised you’re only just realising.

Seeing your overconfident brother so unsure is so unusual to you, he hasn’t been like this since before he’d become a werewolf. You could count on your hands the few times you’d seen him return to this unsure worried version of himself. Which only made you all the more nervous, but you didn’t want to push him to hurry up and explain. You’d let him take his time, because as much as you needed to know, he was your best friend and your protector. Seeing him like this hurt more than you could've ever imagined.

Moving the tub aside you lean your head on Scott’s shoulder, “Maybe you should get some rest, you look like shit big brother,” you laugh when he shoves you off of him with a grin.

You turn to face each other, pulling your legs under you, the way you used to when you were kids. When you were wanting to have one of your conversations, where Scott plays big brother and gives you his sage advice. Not that it was always good or right. Half the time it was stuff that you knew already, or stuff that you would never do. But you loved him for trying all the same.

Your father had left not long after you were born, and as young as Scott had been he’d stepped up for you. He was the one man you knew you could count on, no matter what, and that wasn’t going to change you were sure of it.

“You don’t need to look out for me, Mini, that’s my job, remember. I look out for you,” Scott smiles, gently nudging your shoulder.

“No, you're my brother, that was dad’s job. But I prefer you anyhow,” I smile at him, and lean into the sofa.

“So which is it? Bed or are we gonna do this now?”

Scott sighs and straightens in his seat, and just like the Alpha is back.

“Oh I wish I could, little sister, you have no idea how good a bed sounds right now. But we’re doing this now.”

“Okay, I’m listening. Tell me everything that I don’t know about, might as well get it out of the way.”

“You remember a few months back when I went to visit Stiles?” he asks you carefully, and you’re already shocked.

“This has been going on for months!? You’ve been lying and hiding this from me for months! I understand most of the time Scott, but dammit something that’s as important as this clearly is, you should’ve told me!” you almost shout, unable to hide or hold back your anger. Especially when it quite clearly seemed to concern you.

“Go on,” you sighed apologetically, realising there was no point in being angry about this, of course he hadn’t told you, yet another time he was trying to protect you no doubt.

“Sadie, if we had any idea any of this would end up involving you I would’ve told you the second everything happened.”

“It’s fine, Scott, I understand. But it isn’t just that this involves me but it’s clearly important.” Shaking your head you clear your throat, before looking back at him, doing your best to reign in your anger. “Anyway, yes I remember, you said something about Stiles needing help, but you never did tell me what he needed help with.” Your need to know more only grows the more he talks about Stiles, something is definitely off, and you’re worried some of your earlier thoughts may have been correct.

Nothing could have prepared you for your brother’s next words however.

Taking a deep breath Scott tells you the truth of that weekend away he’d had.

“Stiles had been struggling for months. He uh… he was starting to forget things, silly things at first, then he really started noticing it and he called me. He was too scared to go to the hospital, he didn’t want them to tell him what he already knew.” Scott lets out a shuddering sigh, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Your mind is begging him not to say what you already know is coming, “go on,” you whisper nervously, grabbing his hand when he reaches for you.

A tear drops from Scott’s eyes when he meets yours and you swallow thickly, “I...I convinced him to go to the hospital. Yanno, maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Part of me wishes he’d ignored me, but he needed to know. We needed to start planning. Unfortunately, the doctors only told us what he already knew. Fuck this is hard.” Scott moans quietly, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Stiles had developed frontotemporal dementia. Just like his mother. It fucking broke him Sades, he tore out of that room so damn fast. I followed him, but he told me he needed time to process, just some time alone.” Scott’s voice is shaking so hard, and you feel like your heart just broke in half, but you know only by the look on your brother’s face that isn’t where the story ends.

Clearing your throat you squeeze his hand, “there’s more, isn’t there?” you ask tentatively, feeling the tears fall freely from your eyes.

“Fuck, do I wish there wasn’t,” he mutters, his laugh devoid of humour. A roar sounds from the basement, and then you hear a door slam. You look at your brother with wide eyes and he sighs sadly once more. “I shouldn’t have let him go alone. He was worried he was being followed during training by something, he didn’t know what yet and he didn’t tell me, not until that day in the hospital waiting room. I should have followed him, but he needed space.” Scott looks up and meets your eyes once more, “I was walking around the parking lot of the hospital when I heard him scream. Then I remembered his stories, and I didn’t even think, I just ran as fast as I could. But by the time I got to him, he was bleeding out on the floor, Sadie. He looked so bad, he was white as a damn ghost, could barely keep his eyes open, I lost it. My instincts… just kicked in.” Scott whispers the last bit as another tear rolls down his cheek.

Jumping to your feet you feel your breathing start to change, as you try to consider what else he could be about to say, but only one thing comes to mind.

“Don’t say it, Scotty, please.”

He gets to his feet and pulls you into his arms before you collapse, “I did it. I bit him.”

Tags:

@julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @deans-number-one-fan @onethirstyunicorn @amberboo329 @chewie-redbird

#my brother's best friend #scott and stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x you #stiles teen wolf #teenwolf #chapter 2

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 18

Everyone wave bye-bye to Allison. She’s off to start her life anew in Indy. And Lucas has some thoughts on the matter.

Edited to Add: Shit, shit, shit! I thought I changed that. Max is still in the hospital and doesn’t meet Allison here. Shit! Updated to reflect that.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

***

Steve decided after that they would need to throw a party to introduce his mother to the rest of the Party because Dustin bursting in like that did not make for a happy Steve.

His anxiety had shot up the second Dustin pushed Eddie. Of course Allison smoothed it over like she always does, but Steve didn’t want a repeat. And they both had a good reason to celebrate.

Steve had bought the house that she had pointed out and Allison Harrington was now Allison Kincaid once again. Harold didn’t have a leg to stand on, so much so that he had gone through three separate lawyers before he gave up and let her have whatever she wanted.

She got the house and immediately turned around and turned into a safe house for battered women seeking her help to divorce their horrible husbands.

Allison had then bought a nice penthouse suite in Indy. Steve had tried to convince her to stay in Hawkins but it wasn’t her home anymore. It was Steve’s though and he deserved to have that life without her shadow looming over him.

But she promised she’d call and visit often. So this was a housewarming, divorce, good-bye party all rolled into one.

Before the party started Steve corralled everyone in the front room, before letting them enjoy the first really warm day of the year by splashing around in his brand new pool.

Wayne, Robin, Eddie, and Dustin stood on the outskirts of the room while Steve stood in the middle of the room.

“Why can’t we just go into the pool?” Erica whined.

Steve’s lip curled. “Because there is someone else here that I want you guys to meet but I need to explain some things first before you do. Because it could be very disastrous otherwise.”

Mike looked at Eddie and then back to Steve. “Is this about the lady I saw you with at the store the other day?”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, it is.”

“You seemed really friendly with her...” Mike said suspiciously.

He laughed. “God I hope so! She’s my mom.”

The room erupted in a roar of disbelief and anger. Steve whistled long and loud and suddenly the room was so quiet it was almost as deafening as their roar.

“And this is why I wanted to talk to you all first,” he said. “She thought I was fine because my dad lied to her. She had been building up a divorce case for the past four years and didn’t know about all the shit that was going on.”

“And you believed her?” Mike asked with an eye roll.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You’ve clearly never met my mother. When she saw the wound on my neck, I thought she was going to murder my dad right there in the front hall.”

“Are you sure, Steve?” Nancy asked, timidly. “She should have been here for the first concussion at the very least.”

There were some murmurs of agreement that skittered across the room.

Steve nodded. “Dad kept that all from her. He thought I wasn’t as bad they said because clearly I was just doing it for attention.”

Will’s eyes went wide. “Just how much did he hate you?”

“Far too much,” a calm voice said from the doorway.

All the heads in the room turned to see the most striking woman they had ever seen. Her long dark brown hair was artfully arranged on her head. Her makeup was flawless, but designed to highlight her age and not hide it.

She wore a simple black one-piece swimsuit with a billowing white robe.

The boys’ jaws were on the floor, as El and Erica looked at Steve in shock.

Steve ducked to hide the fond smile that came to his lips when he saw his mom these days.

Allison made her way to stand next to Steve and kissed his cheek. “I know it’s hard to believe, but everything he told you is true.” She whispered, “I hope you don’t mind me taking the floor?”

Steve shook his head. He knew that he probably would have started doubting her if she hadn’t come to his rescue.

“And it’s Allison Kincaid now,” she said warmly. “I went back to my maiden name after the divorce.”

Joyce shook her head. “I told you not to marry that knucklehead, Ally.”

Allison giggled. “And you married Lonnie, darling. Pot meet kettle.”

Joyce laughed. “Fair!”

“I see you’ve made a significant upgrade, Joyce dear,” Allison teased, nodding to Hopper who blushed a deep red.

“I think we all made decisions in our youth that were bad,” Hopper said. “But they made us who we are and we wouldn’t have our kids without those mistakes.”

As all the adults looked fondly at their children.

Steve cleared his throat. “But you aren’t here for that sentimental bullshit, you’re here for a brand new pool, good food, and fun.”

Allison smacked his shoulder and then kissed his cheek again. She walked out with Mike, Lucas, and Dustin following her movements with their heads.

El just rolled her eyes.

“Go on, you menaces,” Steve said, shooing them toward the pool. Everyone stood up and rushed toward the back where Allison had gone, leaving behind Eddie and Steve.

“That could have gone better,” Steve sneered.

Eddie pulled him close. “They’re just looking out for you, sweetheart. I know it’s hard to see that right now when you’re still riding the high of getting her back after all this time. For you it’s a god damn miracle. For them it’s suspicious that she came back after you moved a rather large sum from the account your parents setup to one of your own.”

Steve snorted. “Oh that’s why Dad came home, no question.”

Eddie smiled and kissed the top of Steve’s head. “Good to see you’re not totally blinded by this whole thing.”

“If they had given me time to explain,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s chest, “that she was taking the money she got from Dad in the divorce and moving to Indy, maybe they wouldn’t have been so skeptical.”

Eddie held him tighter. That right there was the only reason that Wayne and he didn’t close ranks when she showed up on their doorstep. That she had deliberately stayed elsewhere, talked about the divorce in very specific terms, didn’t fawn herself over Steve. She approached Steve like she would a spooked deer and that’s why Eddie was team Allison.

“Let’s go party!” Eddie said with a grin.

Steve laughed and followed his boyfriend out to the pool.

If anyone still had doubts about Allison’s sincerity it vanished with how Joyce treated her.

Apparently they had run in the same circles in high school and easily fell back into the old grooves of their prior relationship.

Even Nancy and Mike were charmed by her by the time they left to go home.

Allison had pulled Nancy aside and talked her about being a mom and having a career and that it didn’t have to be an either or. That she could have roots and wings if she wanted. Allison admitted that she hadn’t done right by Steve the last few years but she had seen the good a right balance to bring to both mother and her children.

Allison loved talking with the Byers boys, really getting to know Joyce’s kids. El was a little shier with Allison, until the older woman had complimented her style and then El just opened up like a flower.

“It’s good for El to see other kinds of femininity,” Joyce said to Hopper later that evening. “That she doesn’t have to be one way or the other. She can like pretty clothes and still kick ass.”

Hopper chuckled. “She’ll definitely get that from Ally,” he agreed.

Dustin managed to get Allison away from El long enough to do his own talking her ear off. Steve smiled when she laughed brightly at something he told her.

Robin had settled into an easy relationship with her since they had gone house hunting together. Robin had come out to her and Allison was able to help her overcome some of her nerves of talking to pretty girls.

Erica got into a heated debate with her over the better fantasy series Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Narnia, one that Eddie was drawn into almost against his will.

Erica was for Narnia and Allison and Eddie were for the Shire and Middle Earth.

It really looked like Erica might win when Allison pulled out her best argument: the trouble with Susan. And Erica folded like a house of cards.

Steve laughed when Erica came to him pouting.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Steve asked her. “You went up against one of the best courtroom lawyers of her age.”

Erica made a face. “Then I’m going to become a lawyer and come back and win next time.”

“You be sure and tell her that,” Steve said, knowing his mother would be proud that she had inspired Erica in such a way.

Erica grinned up at him and ran off to just that.

The only one that seem to hang back was Lucas. So Steve went to go check on him.

“Hey, you okay?”

Lucas let out a huff. “How can you forgive her, man? Like I get she didn’t know, but she also wasn’t home. She could have spent time home with you, actually getting to know you instead of running around the world chasing your dad.”

“Ah.”

That was a fair question and Lucas deserved an honest answer. He pressed his lips together and then licked them. “It’s not easy. There is a big part of me that is so sure that once she’s in Indy she’ll forget I exist. Because you’re right. She didn’t have to rely on my dad for information, but she did anyway. So I guess it comes down to faith I guess.”

“That’s lame,” Lucas bit out. “You shouldn’t have to have faith that someone will love you.” He ran his hands over his face and sighed. “I don’t know, man. A big part of it is knowing that she’s paid to be charming and put people at ease. She wouldn’t be a good lawyer otherwise.”

Steve nodded. “I know. And it’s okay if you don’t like her. It’s okay if you don’t trust her. I’m not going to make you. But you won’t know for sure unless you get to know her.”

Lucas sighed again. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Steve chuckled and said, standing up, “She’s a Bulls fan. You can start there.” He winked at Lucas’s open-mouthed stare and walked back to the group.

The sun had gone down so people had gotten dressed and were now dancing underneath the stars to Eddie playing his guitar.

Turns out Eddie was pretty good at slow songs, too.

***

Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @anaibis @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @whalesharksart @nburkhardt @snapshotmaestro @shrimply-a-menace @theotalksalot @child-of-cthulhu @bookbinderbitch @cr0w-culture @punctualhowell @obliosworld @eddiemunsonswife @sharingisntkaren @dididisrespectyourbridgegoatman @lillemilly @ravenpainter @nightmareglitter @dbquills

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #season 4 fix it #ladykailtiha writes

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w3tn3t · 4 months

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[2021 Mortal Kombat Movie AU]

I think Shang Tsung granted Bi-Han his immortality after he killed Hanzo & the Shirai Ryu, so this time Bi-Han adds one more thing to their agreement: his brother will also become immortal. (Kuai Liang is probably the only thing he feels something for)

He wants Kuai to fight beside him, but Kuai can't bear to see what his brother has become in action so Bi-Han convinces Shang Tsung to let him go and live his life, even if he's not happy about it. Bi-Han is capable and vicious enough to do whatever the sorcerer asks of him on his own.

So Kuai spends centuries in different countries, doing different jobs, eventually settling down somewhere in America. Maybe he owns a farm, lol. Living in a remote location would help him go unnoticed on how he's not aging. All the while, Bi-Han keeps an eye on him from afar, getting rid of people who get too close to blowing Kuai's cover, not that he knows about it.

Anyway, after Cole escapes Bi-Han for the first time, Shang Tsung decides to play dirty and has Bi-Han bring Kuai Liang into the fold. He glamors a kombatant mark onto Kuai and has him run into Sonya while "escaping" Bi-Han. He joins her, Cole and Kano from there on. He strikes up a friendship with Sonya, but it's Cole he really hits it off with. Kuai was already doubting his mission but it's getting worse every moment.

They do the whole arcana thing, and the defenders are kind of put off when he "unlocks" his ice powers, but he's nothing like the creeping menace Bi-Han is so they write it off.

Kuai does his best to support Cole as he tries and fails to unlock his. Having lived so long without regular human contact, Kuai can come off as a bit intense, but he makes up for it with how earnest and genuine he is. (Cole might be starting to doubt his sexuality, a little.)

Kano still betrays the team but he runs into Kuai when he's about to destroy the relic that keeps up the force field. Kuai has a change of heart and attempts to stop Kano, but they destroy the relic anyways during their fight. Kano gives Kuai "a chance", to keep what happened to himself as long as he won't get in Kano's way again. Afraid of what the sorcerer will do, Kuai goes with Kano. He stands by Bi-Han's side before the defenders, to the tune of betrayed shouts. Sonya seems angriest while Cole is just disappointed.

The next time he's seen again is in the final scene with Bi-Han. Allison and Emily are still frozen, but the reason they aren't completely encased in a block of ice like Bi-Han might've done by himself is Kuai's coaxing. They can still be saved by design.

Hanzo's appearance was a bit funny imo, so I'd turn that into just him "possessing" Cole to a degree, or enhancing his abilities/guiding him like Sento does for Kenshi. Even with all that, Bi-Han gets Cole into a "say your last words" position. So Cole does a bit of a BotR speech that finally gives Kuai the push he needs and he turns on Bi-Han. He freezes Bi-Han solid but has to keep at it lest Bi-Han break free. He tells Cole to tend to his family, and that he'll deal with Bi-Han.

The defenders arrive, thaw Allison and Emily and get out of there, reluctantly leaving Kuai behind. The rest goes as normal.

After Shang Tsung is defeated, Bi-Han and Kuai go missing. The good ending is the brothers' lifespans becoming normal in the absence of Shang Tsung (if they were 30 they still have like 40 years to live), and Kuai taking steps to rehabilitate Bi-Han. Maybe his path crosses with Cole again, someday.

The sad ending is the brothers perishing immediately without Shang Tsung's magic, lol

(I wanted to make Kuai the Kitana to Cole's Lui Kang but the plot had a mind of its own, lol)

#mortal kombat #mk 2021 #kuai liang #cole young #can I tag this subscorp? it was meant to be subscorp #fuck it #subscorp #there was.. so much they could've done with this movie #and they did what they did instead #mindless murder machine bi-han was about as lore accurate as 95' shang tsung slave bi-han #and that guy had exactly ZERO voice lines + he was working together with a scorpion who shot a bad cgi living kunai snake out of his hand #make of that what you will

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tslightninginabottle · 1 month

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We Are Reputation

Or, An Argument For The Reformation of Community Subculture

Two Days Ago The Tortured Poets Department for Taylor Swift dropped. I have friends who like Taylor Swift. I have friends who love her. I’ve tried to explain to them what this album makes me feel and the more commentary I see online from Twitter, Threads, TT… I feel like, while no one needs my opinion, I want to say it online. So this post is going to be long. If you don’t want to read it, if you don’t care, scroll away. It’s anonymous, because at the end of the day, I doubt I’ll come back to this blog.

I've shifted between posting or deleting for days. This is not very well edited. It's mostly rambling and I understand that. Some points may be connected vaguely. It might seem like I'm contradicting myself. It's messy and raw, and I'm just tired. But if I’m going to do it at all. I’m going to do this as right as I can.

Thus it’s in the form of an academic essay. Unlike other Academic essays, it is not riddled with an intense amount of quotes or sources. This is an opinion piece. But I think for the sake of the TTPD release, the structure is very… fitting.

Introduction (I.E. the TLDR for those of you who don’t understand how an academic paper is structured)

Taylor Allison Swift, has been Taylor Swift (capital T, capital S, with the TM brand symbol) since the age of 16 years old. She has gone through a cycle of expectations three times, and now she is tired. She is begging her fans to listen, and many of them refuse to do so. She is capable of creating great art with great vulnerability, we as fans are no longer equipped to handle it. Ultimately there is a chance that she is afraid of shaping her own ability, because of us. The only way we as a fandom can change is if we redefine our community now before it’s too late. And if she stops after album 13 it will not because she does not want to, it will be because we have destroyed her.

Taylor Swift (TM)

For those who are reading this, and have made it thus far, chances are you know who Taylor Swift is. Whether that means you know where she grew up (Christmas Tree Farm), when she moved to Nashville (14), the names of her cats, her mother’s medical history, secret sessions, VMAs, easter eggs, accidents, eating disorders, a myriad of too many details that we know about a person we have never met, and the loves of her life. Whether this is friends or relationships, you probably know, all of their names. How each one came and went in her life. Through songs and through tabloids, screaming her name, screaming their names, trying to defend her honor when the world calls her childish for only singing about the heartbreak. You know. Thus, this message is to you: for all you know about Taylor Swift, have you stopped to think of who Taylor Swift is? Truly? Not projecting your own thoughts onto her. How using your long list of check boxes and check marks and “I’ve been here this long and I’m a better fan because I know this much.” Have you, do you, know her? Because I don’t.

When I got my first iPod in 2006, I had five songs on it that I bought with my own money: Thnks fr th Mmrs, Umbrella, Fergilicious, Our Song, and Tear Drops on My Guitar. In 2008 I had my who family memorize the lyrics to YBWM because we listened to it too often. I saw the 2009 VMAs happen live on television. In 2010 I was screaming Mean in the shower when I had no reason to; I was happy. In 2012, I got my choir to sing a mashup of IKYWT. In 2014, I was racing down the aisles of Target at Midnight to get 1989. I was a bystander during Snakegate. I was sitting in my car in 2017 reading potentially my favorite prologue I’ve ever seen. Then I was subsequently let down by the album as a whole. I was likewise disappointed in 2019. When Folklore came out, it was the first album I ever sent to my non-tailor swift friends. They loved it. I did it again with Evermore. Midnights came out and I sat in my living room with my brother and his girlfriend, screaming, talking, the first listen party I ever had where it was not just me alone. When TTPD came out, I was alone again.

Don’t come for me and say I’m not a real fan. It’s okay to admit disappointment. I never expected her to change to my will, however. I never yelled about it online. I simply accepted that it wasn’t for me and moved on, waiting to hear the next thing to see if it was. I stood by her, not because I loved her or I idolized her, but because I resonated with her, and sometimes that resonating wasn’t perfect but I accepted that.

Or maybe do call me a fake fan. I really don’t care what you think of me. I just need you to know that I’ve seen this. I know this. I know what you know, if not more. But all the same, despite me reading the tabloids, reading the magazines, having the posters, listening to all the music, I have never thought I actually knew Taylor Swift. And yet…

There are people online right now, being critical about this album. Some say it sounds bland, the same as what has come before but not as electric and ground breaking. Some say she needs an editor. Others say she is trying to recreate catching lightning in a bottle and failing. There are those online who are giving the paternity tests to the songs right now, proving to me that you never bothered to actually read, let alone understand what TS is saying to you.

You were too focused on “If I only hung out with my female friends, people couldn’t sensationalize or sexualize that-right? I would learn later on that people could and people would.” That you MISSED: “I had become the target of slut-shaming-the intensity and relentlessness of which would be criticized and called out if it happened today. The jokes about my amount of boyfriends. The trivialization of my songwriting as if it were a predatory act of a boy crazy psychopath, The media co-signing this narrative. I had to make it stop because it was starting to really hurt. / It became clear to me that for me there was no such thing as casual dating, or even having a male friend who you platonically hand out with. If I was seen with him, it was assumed I was sleeping with him. And so I swore off hanging out with guys, dating, flirting, or anything that could be weaponized against me by a culture that claimed to believe in liberating women but consistently treated me with the harsh moral codes of the victorian era.”

Go reread the Reputation prologue for me real quick. Or actually better yet, here:

Here’s something I’ve learned about people. We think we know someone, but the truth is that we only know the version of them they have chosen to show us. We know our friend in a certain light, but we don't know them the way their lover does. Just the way their lover will never know them the same way that you do as their friend. Their mother knows them differently than their roommate, who knows them differently than their colleague. Their secret admirer looks at them and sees an elaborate sunset of brilliant color and dimension and spirit and pricelessness. And yet, a stranger will pass that person and see a faceless member of the crowd, nothing more. We may hear rumors about a person and believe those things to be true. We may one day meet that person and feel foolish for believing baseless gossip. This is the first generation that will be able to look back on their entire life story documented in pictures on the internet, and together we will all discover the after-effects of that. Ultimately, we post photos online to curate what strangers think of us. But then we wake up, look in the mirror at our faces and see the cracks and scars and blemishes, and cringe. We hope someday we'll meet someone who will see that same morning face and instead see their future, their partner, their forever. Someone who will still choose us even when they see all of the sides of the story, all the angles of the kaleidoscope that is you. The point being, despite our need to simplify and generalize absolutely everyone and everything in this life, humans are intrinsically impossible to simplify. We are never just good or just bad. We are mosaics of our worst selves and our best selves, our deepest secrets and our favorite stories to tell at a dinner party, existing somewhere between our well-lit profile photo and our drivers license shot. We are all a mixture of our selfishness and generosity, loyalty and self-preservation, pragmatism and impulsiveness. I've been in the public eye since I was 15 years old. On the beautiful, lovely side of that, I've been so lucky to make music for living and look out into crowds of loving, vibrant people. On the other side of the coin, my mistakes have been used against me, my heartbreaks have been used as entertainment, and my songwriting has been trivialized as 'oversharing'. When this album comes out, gossip blogs will scour the lyrics for the men they can attribute to each song, as if the inspiration for music is as simple and basic as a paternity test. There will be slideshows of photos backing up each incorrect theory, because it's 2017 and if you didn't see a picture of it, it couldn't have happened right? Let me say it again, louder for those in the back... We think we know someone, but the truth is that we only know the version of them that they have chosen to show us. There will be no further explanation There will be just reputation.

You don’t know Taylor Swift. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve read her lyrics and you’re sure. I don’t want to hear another person say “She’s giving us her diary.” She is curating it. Editing it. She is a poet. She is shaping her image into exactly what she wants it to be. She is showing us the worst parts of herself on purpose, because it feels as if she is tired of hiding the full maltifaceted person that she is.

However, she is a marketing genius. She is a billionaire. She is not the girl next door, your very best friend, the girl you’d give your kidney to. You don’t know her. You don’t know anything about her relationships other than what she says on her songs — and the tabloids that are like 90% wrong anyway. We only know what she is giving us, analyzing the lyrics and coming up with more incorrect conclusions than correct. You don’t know her. You only know her reputation.

And every time you chant. Reputation! Reputation at her concerts, in the comments, in the theories, the more feral you are over it, the more you prove her point. At this point, it feels like people care more about her reputation than her. And it seems as if she’s tired of explaining it to us, because all we care about is the show. “Breaking down, I hit the floor. / All the pieces of me shattered / as the crowd was chanting “more!” (TTPD, ICDIWABH)

The Cycles of Hate

We all know the story of reputation. Snakegate. Kanye. Kim. The social media blackout. The comeback of a century. The KYS. I wish Taylor Swift was Dead. She’s just a bitch. I knew she couldn’t be trusted.

Fun fact. That was Taylor Swift after 1989. Taylor Swift during the Era’s tour could eat that Taylor for breakfast. Her fame is astronomically bigger, full on universal. If you didn’t know this, IDK where you’ve been, but it’s the truth. We’ve seen her grow from that It Girl Popstar. To THE Generation defining popstar. Taylor Swift was named Artist of the Decade for the 2010s because she was the artist of the decade. And to the haters out there, this post is not meant for you. I don’t want to hear it. You can in fact walk down the street and start the song Love Story and people will know the song. Even in other countries. People know Taylor Swift (TM).

In the cycle of popstars, newer shiny popstars often replace the older ones. And Taylor Swift, one day, will be no exception. The difference is, unlike most of those other women and men— I’d dare to say that none have gone through the torment that Taylor Swift has. In 2009, after the VMAs, the world turned against Taylor. Publicly and through the media, people were criticizing Kanye West. But Taylor said herself that she thought people were booing her on the stage. There were think pieces about how she ‘wasn’t good actually.’ This is when the true hate train began for Taylor Swift. The: she only writes about love and boys. The: she dates too many of them. The: she doesn’t write her own songs (even though her whole brand was built on it). When Taylor Swift released Speak Now, it included the song Long Live. Based on the lyrics, Taylor thought this album could be the end of her career. “Will you take a moment? / Promise me this / That you’ll stand by me forever / But if God forbid fat should step in / And force us into a goodbye / If you have children someday / When they point to the pictures / Please tell them my name.”

I like to tell my friends that I see Taylor Swift has having three cycles in her career so far. We are living in the third. This isn’t based on music genre, completely. Because for argument sake, Taylor has touched on many subgenera. But it is based on Main Genre, and the cycle of vitriol towards Taylor Swift —i.e.l over saturation.

Cycle 1: Debut - Red; Country

Cycle 2: 1989 - Lover ; Pop

Cycle 3: Folklore - TTPD; Folk/Folk Pop

The Cycle goes as follows: Taylor Swift has massive world breaking success after catching lightning in a bottle. People get outraged. She has to respond, in order to defend herself. The world gets more angry and irritated. TS is everywhere. There are horrible things being said online, everywhere in every way. People want her to DISAPPEAR. She writes an album for herself, and the fans cherish it. Then she says, it’s time for something new. The Cycle repeats.

To most, non-fans, that I have met or seen online. They seem to agree that Taylor has only ever had three “good” albums: Fearless, 1989, Folklore. What do all three have in common? They were smash successes. Before Midnights, they were the only three that won AOTY. People around the world know their songs. She has been given critical acclaim for them by people who don’t listen to Taylor Swift. They are all sonically cohesive. They are all lyrically creative, and musically engaging. And, most importantly, they were genre defining (at least for her).

I ignore Debut here, because Debut was her setting the ground work, and while Debut and Fearless are similar and close, it was not Debut that started the cycle. Debut started her career. For this reason, Debut classifies as an Album 0. It is the album zero, ground zero by which the whole cycle was built.

In the Cycle that I’ve defined, after the smash success for Album 1, there is a string of vitriol and some sort of incident. She then writes an album response either to it, or about it, trying to prove herself as an artist and that she deserves what she has and where she is: Speak Now, Reputation, Midnights. Each one of these albums are Taylor Writing to prove herself, as being allowed to exist, and create art, her snapping back in some way. This may be the most esoteric in regards to Midnights, but the concept is the same. The big vitriol after Folklore/Evermore was that she could write deep songs, but not deep pop songs. So she made a concept album about the sleepless nights of her past and made an anthology of well crafted lyrics and considerations, thoughts and prayers, and proved she could do it. Midnights shouldn’t have gotten AOTY. It was good, a world wide smash success, but that’s because she has a bigger fan base no than she did years ago. It wasn’t lightning in a bottle. It wasn’t genre defining. It was a good pop album. But ultimately, Midnights is an Album 2, it is a continuation.

Now many people may say, but Evermore was the album after Folklore. It wasn’t. It was written at the same time as Folklore. She didn’t have time to process anything. It is, for all intents and purposes, a double drop with Folklore. The two are one, the same mindset. Midnights was different.

In the case of Album 2 it is, or was, always a failure. Before Midnights, at least, with both reputation and Speak Now, even though she poured her heart out and made excellent music, and yet for some reason it did not receive the same accolades or awards — or maybe was even ignored by the general public. She did not catch lightning in a bottle again. I would argue this is the same for Midnights, but the difference is that her fan base is so much larger than it was before.

Now, after Album 2, there is always the ramp up. The actual over saturation. It grows and grows and grows and the world begins to fully hate Taylor Swift. Yes, I know Snakegate had everyone turn against her, but look at the way people said things to her during the Lover era. Once again she thought it was the end after Reputation, that her career was over. Red, Lover, and TTPD are Album 3s, or the “this one is for the fans” album as the fans like to say. The “You don’t get it because you don’t understand Taylor like I do, album.” The Album Taylor writes for herself. Red was the only breakup album. The heart wrench album. The sing it and scream it in your car album. Lover was, at the time, unapologetically, a be you album. The be in love, be happy, it’s okay to be “me” album. TTPD is the I’m falling apart, please see me album. It is the I’m going to have to be okay on my own album. The I’ve healed and move on from this part of my life, but you don’t know me, album. And each and every time general society says it is not great, fans say that they simply don’t understand it because they’re not fans.

Rinse Repeat.

Album 1: The Critical, Genre Smash Success. Album 2: Is the Critically overlooked Concept Album. Album 3 is the: This one is for the “Fans” (herself), Album that is critically panned.

Dear Reader

Right quick, go reread the lyrics for dear reader for me. Follow that up with YOYOK and ICDIWABH. Come back to me when you’re done. Good? Let’s go.

Are you listening yet? Are you hearing her yet? Taylor Swift fans are realizing this now, but TTPD was written for Taylor and it was written for us. The fans. We don’t know her. We don’t know her life. She is begging us, on her knees. Crying to us. She is messy. She is far from perfect. She makes bad choices. She is not a good person. She is simply a person and she is asking us to stop the idol worship.

“Please. / I’ve been on my knees. / Change the prophecy. / Don’t want money. / Just someone who wants my company. / Let it once be me. / Who do I have to speak to. / About if they can redo. / The prophecy?”

And you may say, but that song is about love. It is. It’s about us. The greatest love Taylor has ever known. She said that. To us, at the Eras tour. We are the longest relationship she’s ever had. We’ve been there with her through the good and the bad. The ugly and the sad. The beautiful and the change.

“You, who saw that I reinvent myself for a million reasons. And that one of them is to try my very best to entertain you. You, who have had the grace to allow me the freedom to change.” (1989 TV)

But are we?

“This is a story about coming into your own. And as a result… coming alive. I hope you know that you’ve given me the courage to change. I hope you know that who you are is who you choose to be, and that whispers behind your back don’t define you. You are the only one who gets to decide what you will be remembered for.” (1989)

What is the legacy we are currently leaving behind for her?

“I want to be remembered for the things that I love, not the things that I hate, not the things that I’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night. I just think, you are what you love.” (Daylight, Lover)

Stop and think. For a moment. Every time we bring those men up. We bring the possible relationships up. We bring the heartache up. We attack the people online. When we hold her to impossible beauty standards, and impossible moral standards. We speculate and wonder and question… yes, there is a level of media literacy that comes from asking these questions. But there is a vocal majority, a large subsection of people online who are doing it again. Who are asking when she’s going to get married and have babies. Who are trying to burn Joe or Matty or Harry or any of the other boys before to the ground. Who are taking us back to 2012, the “she only writes about hs and heartbreak.” The fans who hang on her every word, every breath, and aren’t allowing her to change.

Taylor Swift (TM) has always been about change. But how many times have you seen or heard people scream, “this isn’t like folklore?” Some are like, they’re not real Taylor Swift Fans. But they’re comparing everything to it. And they are, her fans, and they’re not allowing.

Some of you may be like, but other artists don’t change. Don’t branch out. Write the same thing over and over and over, and maybe she wants to do that. Yet, girly has shown us time and time again that she actually likes challenging herself to write other genres. She likes doing it. If she didn’t. Reputation would have been more like 1989. Lover would have been more like 1989. Folklore and Evermore wouldn’t exist. I do think there is an argument to be had that expecting her to change and forcing her to do it is wrong, but I’m saying that we aren’t even accepting the chance that she may want to change for herself. Whether that means into a stable sound that never changes from album to album or into a wildly different genre. RN the FANS are dictating what should and shouldn’t be, and that’s… messy.

How many of you breathed in relief at 17-31 because it sounded like Folklore and Evermore? How many of you liked 1-16 because it was like Midnight’s sister? How many of you were waiting to hear the heartbreak about Joe? How many of you have given the songs paternity tests? It’s only been 48 hours. You can be honest.

We are Taylor Swifts greatest love, if things are to be assumed, and the muse in TTPD is strangely many people in one — because we are a part of the problem now. She had to plead manic insanity to us, in her prologue for this album.

How many of you look at the rerecordings and have forgotten the reason for them? I mean, I know you know the reason, but it’s not supposed to be a count down, doubting everything, pushing her, pressuring her, to give us her art. She is trying to reclaim her art, for herself. It’s called Taylor’s Version. Not the audience version. Yet, you scream Reputation at her concerts. Reputation. Reputation. Give us everything you are Taylor. Give us, your love Taylor. Entertain us Taylor.

All she has left are her name and reputation. She’s already given away her reputation once. Do you think she wants to give it away again after she’s finally reclaimed it? Do you think she wants to give her name away again? When it’s finally her’s?

And don’t get me wrong I think that reputation (TV) and Taylor Swift (TV) will come, and the world will be excited for the vault tracks, and be angry that it doesn’t sound identical to the original. And feel betrayed that it’s not 100% perfect the exact way they wanted. They’re tired of her failing them. Gaslighting her into believing she’s not good enough. Threatening to quit her and leave her behind because she’s disappointing them, by doing the one thing she’s good at but it’s not good enough anymore.

Oh sorry, not the world.

Her fans. The love of her life.

Critical Critique

The thing about giving good feedback and critique is that it needs to be helpful. You can’t simply say, I hate this, and expect someone to use it.

Taylor Swift is not above critique. She is not perfect. She is a human being, it’s legitimately impossible to be perfect. Yet we ask her to be perfect. Now I’m not saying perfection with saying one thing (that she cares about social justice) and then doing the opposite. I’m not saying she’s above critique of her private jets or being a billionaire. These can all be valid critiques. I think we should be critical of her billionaire status, and white feminist tendencies, and marketing exploitation. This is looking at an idol and holding them to human standards that you may have for yourself.

I don’t think that being critical and holding someone accountable is toxicity. I do think it’s toxic tho, that we are starting to read into everything. Search for clues in everything. Showing up to weddings we were never invited to. Stalking her across venues. (And I don’t mean the plane guy, I mean you weirdos who show up at her house and her recording studio and scream at her to tell you about her latest breakup). Looking over photos, like you’re a tabloid editor from 2010, like “Where’s the ring?” “Is that a baby bump?”

And when she tells us the truth we say no, I don’t believe you. When we, her fans, hear her say with her whole chest “I’m not perfect, stop defending me.” and we turn around and say… mmmmmm I’m not going to do that. You are my perfect little baby who can do no wrong. You must be confused. You must be shocked. Let me correct you. She knows she’s making bad choices and she has a whole marketing team to fix what she does.

Taylor Swift fans have been demonized by media as ravenous brain dead worshipers, and in some ways we are. We defend her at every turn, at everything she does and justifies it, but this is more than that. And yet is also only that. I am defending her when she doesn’t need me to. But more than that, I feel like I need to call out the fandom cuz we are toxic. We have secret sessioners leaking albums. We are gate keeping. We are screaming at each other when people don’t agree with are arbitrary and subjective opinions. We say that the real critiques of her work aren’t actually listening to her— they are, you’re not listening to the critiques. Like the 1830s line. There are so many ways the same sentiment could have been written, better. No one is saying Taylor is a racist. They’re saying she needed someone to check her on the line and be like, is there a different way to say this?

To everyone we talk to, we are hated. There are think pieces about how toxic we are to others online, how we attack everyone who dares to actually be critical of her. How we attack eachother, like the snake eating its tail. We defend her like its or dying breath and then turn around to Taylor and say, look I was a good fan, give me what I want and only what I want. People hate us. Outsiders hate us. Casual fans hate us. We hate each other. Taylor swift says she sometimes hates us.

Welcome to the age of Aquarius, the downfall of celebrity. We shouldn’t worship people, like idols and gods. However, we should judge people as people and we aren’t doing that either, to the random person on the street saying “see me” to the girl with the lyrics crying “hear me.”

Social Media Literacy

Hate Taylor swift if you want to, whether that is because she’s over saturated or because you have grown disillusioned. But Taylor swift has built a brand about being relatable, and as much as people may say she’s manufacturing it now, I don’t think she is trying to. I personally think she’s trying to do it the way she always has, and it’s backfiring.

Not because she’s less relatable, but because we as a society have lost what it means to accept other people. We are holding everyone to a high near high level of perfectionist accountability, where you must be perfect and never change, and never make a mistake. There is a fact to be said that billionaire mistakes hurt millions of people, and that everything you do cosigns another terrible thing. However, we are not building a community. We are not holding people accountable and then pulling them back into the community to help them change their mindset. We are not creating a network of support, we are snipping away at the web at every single point. Saying, you’re wrong, and isolating further. And while this can be said about everything and everyone, it is more apocalyptic for Taylor Swift, because her entire brand is a microcosm of society.

This is happening to everyone, not just Taylor swift. Everyone. Nuance is gone. Grace is gone. Understanding, just like media literacy and critical thought, is disappearing. People are making value assessments of others based on the media they consume. And that alone should be a concern for all of us.

We are saying if you aren’t perfect, you are kicked to the outside. Immediately. No remorse. We are saying, if you aren’t exactly the way I think is morally right, just, or perfect, you are forbidden from anything ever again. And I’m not talking about Taylor Swift. I’m not talking about critique. I’m talking about us. The fans. Who attack each other. Who demonize each other. Who send hate threats to each other. Who call each other crazy. Who joke about other’s demise.

Oh, that’s just an issue of Taylor’s brand. No. This is a wider spread issue, it’s just magnified in the Swiftie fandom, because the swiftie fandom has always been a parasocial relationship with Taylor. From the day she began on Myspace, the Swiftie fandom has broken down clues together, kept secrets together, been a community together, in a way that most others have not been. And it’s falling apart, just as Taylor swift’s brand of relatability. Because we as a society, and we as a fandom have snipped away the entire network of support. The only way down is through, and there is no one to catch us at the end of the fall.

Parasocial Relationships, have been seen to become toxic very fast, as soon as a person thinks that they have some sort of control or are heard by the person they follow. For the longest time, Swifts staid back, followed the clues like rabbits and it was a game. She left us a puzzle, and we went to solve it. Now we are trying to solve puzzles that don’t exist. We made the game bad. We have made it awkward for everyone. The Parasocial relationship we have always had with Taylor, which was kind and filled with space and grace, has fallen apart. We are the worst parts of toxic parasocial relationships.

We are screaming for more. Ignoring what has been given. Skipping too fast and onwards to the next thing. All while saying, this thing that you’ve given me? It’s not absolutely perfect. Do more. Be better. Oh but that’s too many now. How about this one thing instead.

I know with my heart of hearts that when Reputation (TV) comes out. It’s going to be hell on fire. Because there is such a pent up image of this special album in everyone minds, that they keep saying things that are wildly untrue. That it’s going to be release randomly, because “there will be more explanation. There will just be reputation.”

Go read the prologue AGAIN. I’ll wait.

Don’t Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy

We are not capable of listening anymore. And I know that many people of the world won’t read this, won’t understand this, won’t even know it exists.

But we, are the most toxic love affair that Taylor Swift has ever had.

It was good, when it was good. But we’ve turned on her time and time again. And there are some of us, myself included, who will say, we’ve been here the whole time! Supporting her, even during lover when her concerts were at the lowest. But.

We are tearing each other apart. We are tearing her apart. We are holding her to impossible standards we don’t even hold ourselves too. Our very real critiques of her are being ignored and some fans say it’s just hate instead. Critiques to her, become massive amounts of backlash at her, that is visceral and appalling. We say, “I love you.” She says, “It’s ruining my life.”

We say we love you, and then turn around and say but I hated that. We say we support you but we need “MORE.” We say take a break, but you had better not disappear on us. We say we want you to be in love, but on our terms. We want you to be happy, but the way we want.

And it has gotten more and more and more, as she has skyrocketed to the Eras Tour level of fame she has right now. Our reactions to her are millions of times over across multiple countries. Where people are saying, she shouldn’t have become a public figure if she couldn’t handle it. She shouldn’t have opened up her life to us and written her songs like a diary, if she couldn’t handle it. She shouldn’t be a human being if she can’t handle being hated for being human. She created this parasocial relationship, it’s her fault it’s toxic. She talks about the men and love, she should handle when we judge her for it. You wouldn’t even judge your friends. Will you say, that’s just the way they are? And ignore the ways they are hurting you and others? And if you did, will you hold grace for them to change and grow or will you cut them out immediately and leave them isolate? Will you forget community?

And it’s all divisive and anonymous online. This virtual signaling, and hate towards one person, when you can’t even hold your own families accountable. When you can’t even hold yourself accountable. When every moment that this relationship of us to Taylor continues, it proves that we are the worst parts of humanity.

I’m not immune to that. This post is antagonistic and anonymous. I see the irony. I know the hypocrisy.

And there are reasons the jokes aren’t funny about us on the internet, but that they’re true. They’re true, what outsiders and non-fans think of us. We are a rapid fan base that gets worse and worse each year. We are not only the good parts, the friendship bracelets and joy of the eras tour. We are all the terrible parts as well. We are the racist, homophobic, terrible parts. We are getting worse and worse the more and more we love her, that we are starting to scare people even more than we ever had. It’s my way, or you’re out. And if you, another fan, don’t agree with me then you’re not actually a fan at all.

Some people, fans, have said that the Eras Tour feels like the end. That she’s saying goodbye. She burned down the lover house. TTPD is alienating people. Taylor Swift is everywhere and she is so oversaturated that people are concerned.

And look. I can’t blame TS for what is happening right now. If she’s feeling alone. Afraid. Lost. Unsure what will happen if she puts one foot out of line. She’s given us this messy album that is filled with the dirty and worst parts of her thoughts and feelings. It’s not edited it’s raw. It’s angry. It’s saying “Fuck you.” Because we made her crazy. And I’m pretty sure we sure as hell aren’t letting her feel like she can change. She can’t trust us to let her change or to become something else. She can’t even trust us to be there as a support network.

Even if the Cycle dictates that she should do it.

Maybe she’s grown up. Maybe sh’s found her genre and want’s to stay here forever. Maybe Taylor is tired. Maybe she just needed to get all the emotions out and away so she can move on and be fully happy. Maybe she’s terrified of what will happen this time when she falls from grace. She saw it in 2009-2012. She saw it in 2016-2017.

I don’t know. I don’t know her. But I know this:

When you’re standing at the tallest peak, how far does the valley look? Especially when the wings you built through years of blood sweat and tears are burned by the very people who helped you make them.

There Will Be No Explanation. There Will Just Be Reputation.

We all know the iconic opening sequence from the Reputation Stadium tour. Where she took the media commentary and made it the opening. For years. Taylor has been in a war with the media and the powers at be. When the media slut shamed her. When the media made paternity tests. When the MEDIA said, look at this woman and all the stupid shit she does.

Guess what? The media loves her.

Taylor Swift reclaimed her reputation from the media in 2017.

But now who does she have to take it back from?

For as much as Taylor has made a commentary about how women are constantly told to reinvent themselves, to become something new and shiny, in this way and that way for “me.” The greatest changes Taylor has ever made in her music career have been for herself. 1989, was because she wanted to go Pop. Folklore was because she needed to process and try a new type of songwriting style.

And yet, now Taylor’s fans look at all her clothes and choices and say “ah this is a new era.” This is “reputation era coded.” The fans are now adding paternity tests to every single song. We are going after the exes online and in person. We are asking Taylor to reinvent herself constantly over and over and over to entertain us. We shout “MORE!” over and over again. The fans are feral for reputation. Ignore everything else.

And with TTPD she said, we need to chill that we don’t know her. That she’s going to make up her own choices and fuck up. And the line about “you should see your faces?” that is about US.

We, the fans, are now in the place of the media. We are the ones that are dictating her reputation in a way that she does not agree with. When Taylor Swift reclaims her reputation again, it will not be from the media, it will be from the fans itself.

We are now giving paternity tests. We are now the ones asking if she’s going to get married and when. We are the ones constantly wondering if she’s pregnant. WE are saying and doing and acting the same way that the media did for YEARS. When before we used to tell the media to back off and ignored it all. We have become the very thing we used to hate.

And now we, as fans are saying to Taylor Swift that she MUST “Be new to us, be young to us, but only in a a new way and only in the way we want. And reinvent yourself, but only in a way that we find to be equally comforting, but also a challenge for you. Live out a narrative that we find to be interesting, to entertain us, but not so crazy that it makes us uncomfortable.”

This time when Taylor Swift reclaims her reputation, she’s going to be reclaiming it for herself, from the men who stole it from her. From the media who dictated it. From the world. From her fans. For herself. (Taylor’s Version)

Lightning in a Bottle

I was always of the opinion that she’d continue making albums after 13. Now I am not sure. I think she’ll write music, but I think 13 might be it. There is a chance, she is preparing to keep coasting. Get 12 out while she’s still at the high. Ride out this Cycle longer than it should. Get 12 out to critical acclaim, face the fall and release 13, her Magnum Opus. Say goodbye for good. People will look at it and wonder what happened, who she is, but she’s been warning us since Long Live that this could happen.

However.

Taylor Swift is capable of bending lightning.

To many fans, each Taylor Swift Album is perfect. To some each album is something new that she hasn’t tried before. To me, Taylor’s albums come in the form of a cycle. Where, when she changes for herself and is embraced for that change, she is able to create something no one has ever done before. She defines a generation in a healthy and productive way.

She’s done it once with Country. She’s done it twice, with Pop. She’s done it thrice with Folk. In each instance she was raw, she was curated. She was honed in on the concept, on the lyrics, on the vulnerability, on the genre itself. Taylor Swift can capture lightning in a bottle when she’s trying an entirely new genre. When she goes all in on everything for the genre, in a new form, and learns and masters that form well. And most importantly, when she decides to make this leap of faith not because she’s reinventing herself to make the world entertained, but because she wants to make the change- the choice- for herself.

I’ve always hoped and prayed for that Rock album. I thought it would be 12 (or 11, in a world where Evermore was not Folklore’s sister/twin). I’ve always thought that if Taylor was going to catch Lightning in a bottle again it would be in rock. I don’t think we’ll ever get it. And that’s okay.

I always hoped that album 13 would be about us, the fans. The coming of age story of Taylor Swift. Her relationship with us and the music industry. The album that has pop and rock and country and folk. Songs that remind me of Girls Just Want to Have Fun, I Want to Dance With Somebody, and This Ones For the Girls. I hoped it would be for us. For her. For the love of it all. And album that said Long Live, with a capital TS, that touched on every era she ever did, recreating the sound perfectly. Into 13 perfect songs and not a song more. I doubt it’s going to happen. And that’s okay.

I won’t be disappointed. I’ll be here for the ride. I’ll critique her as much as I always have, and hold grace for her to change as a person. I’m going to build my community with the paradox of Tolerance in mind. And if I’m wrong and she continues after 13, I’ll be there too. But I think that right now, The Taylor Swift fandom is not in the place to be able to catch Taylor if she makes a jump, a change, a decision that is not tailored for them or considers them. We can't even talk with each other without getting into fights.

Ask yourself how much of our community is left:

When the parasocial relationships Taylor built, is weaponized against her and ourselves. Like some sort of awardshow, where you get a gold star for being the best.

When we are giving her a paternity test at every lyric.

When we see our faces at every new lyric.

When the games aren’t fun anymore.

When we scream more. More. More. More. But only the way I want and in the way I deem appropriate.

When her reputation has been stolen from her again. AGAIN by the people she trusted most.

When we only book mark her life by failures and endings. Gossiping like old women asking how did it happen this time?

When we won’t even remember ALL the things that she loves.

When that’s all she’s ever asked for us to remember her by.

When she says we, her fans, "are the love of my life."

But “The Story of Us, sounds a lot like a tragedy now.”

Because "the story isn't [hers] anymore."

Yet, we're all she’s ever wanted.

I think that with TTPD, she is processing but she's telling us, that this is it. She's going to make the first change of her life not knowing if we're going to support it.

Cycle 4 is coming. Whether that is with 12. 13. With the end of the Eras Tour. With the burning of the lover house on the first night of the Eras Tour. Cycle 4 will end the Cycles. Will end the Eras.

One more fall from from the precipice. But this time not from the public. Not from the media. From her fans. I think Taylor Swift is ready to take that leap with or without her fans. With or without the safety net. With or without the wings we built her that got her this far. One more fall from the pedestal. One more descent into the horrors that Taylor Swift has ever known. This time into uncharted waters, facing the one true love of her life. The change that is going to shatter the fandom.

What happens then?

Change

So how do we fix it? How do we, as a community, come together and fix this toxicity? Because we have to be the ones to do it. If we don’t do it now, then there is a chance we’ll never do it in the future. We have to change, and reclaim our own reputation as Swifties.

How? I wish I had all the answers, but I do have a place to start.

Stop sending death threats and hate and KYS to people you don’t agree with.

Stop arguing like you’re so smart because you understand her lyrics. If someone says they don’t interpret something the same way as you, maybe listen. There is no One Way to read a Taylor Swift song. There just isn’t.

Tolerance Paradox: Support differing opinions of your own. However, we can not accept intolerance. Those who wish to spread hate, those who wish to spread anger, we can’t support them. We have to call them out. We must call out the racists and the homophobes and the literal nazis and white supremacists who find our fandom home.

We must be critical of her AND our community. Whose voices are we not listening to? Take a self inventory on why the critique of her bothers you so much. Legitimately.

We must take inventory of what we have done in the past and take accountability for the ways we’ve hurt others.

We must stop asking for more, legitimately. Stop asking for more Folklore like albums. Stop asking for more 1989 like albums. Stop begging for reputation.

We must be kind to those who are new. Gatekeeping can only be so far as to keep the space a place of tolerance.

We must support each other in hard times, in times of need. Be the community that comes together to say, I have your back. We must start helping each other, legitimately.

We must hold our ground, and stop the leaks IMMEDIATELY.

Stop speculating, and I don’t mean analyzing of reviewing easter eggs. I mean speculating. We aren’t with her 24/hrs a day so stop acting like we should be.

Easter Eggs are only fun, when people aren’t having full break downs about being wrong. Maybe we should chill.

Hold space for your opinions to change and for others to change. Validate those changes, and the processing.

Remember our roots. We are the fandom who has stuck together through everything, who believes in the magic of connection. Draw those 13s on the back of your hands and make a wish. Long Live.

Ending

In the end, there is nothing great about this essay. I’m really not saying much to anyone. I'm saying this for myself because I'm changing the way I engage with Taylor Swift and other Swifties. I’m tired of creating a network of hate. I’m tired of feeling like I don’t belong in this community, because I am not perfect. Or because I don’t agree.

We, as fans, are the new enemy that we have always fought against.

I might not be able to fix everything, but I'm going to do my part to change the prophecy.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd #ts ttpd

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invisible-storyteller · 7 months

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Home is a person

For @kirayukimuraappreciation. Day 1: You Came Back. Pairing: Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura Rating: General Words: 1628 Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Teen Wolf: The Movie (2023), Kira-centric, Kira Yukimura Returns, Derek Hale & Kira Yukimura Friendship, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Kira returns to Beacon Hills just in time to save Derek. With everyone alive and the Nogitsune gone, happy end is due, right? Well, Kira needs a bit more convincing to realize why she's come back at all. (Read it on AO3).

It doesn’t take long to understand the situation. It takes even less time to tackle Derek off the Nemeton.

She makes sure to stand guard around the tree stump with another, younger kitsune as Parrish’s arms wrap around the mutant evil spirit and they both go up in flames. The only thing left in the Nogitsune’s wake is silence and bad memories.

Then the illusion is gone and Kira can breathe again. They are all standing on a stadium field, safe, shaken and once again victorious, surrounded by friends she hasn’t seen in over a decade. It just figures that another life-and-death scenario would bring them back together.

“Dad!”

A werewolf boy barely in his teens rushes towards Derek and buries himself into his arms, and as Kira does a 360-degree turn, she notices that everyone's celebrating in varying forms of an embrace while she’s standing on the side. Alone.

A lean body sags onto hers suddenly and she startles by the unexpectedly tight hug. “You saved my dad,” The boy says against her shoulder, relief heavy in his voice. “Thank you.”

From a short distance, Derek smiles at her and walks closer to the pair. “Amazing timing,” He compliments.

Kira smiles but can’t help looking around and thinking: “Actually, I might be too late.”

Derek invites her to dinner as an expression of his gratitude and then follows up with a dozen ‘thanks yous’ throughout the evening. His son, Eli, has a million questions about the Skinwalkers and her powers and he breaks down crying halfway through. It’s a lot, but Kira still feels better on the drive home.

It’s definitely nicer than the nothing that follows.

For every single thing that hasn’t changed in Beacon Hills, there are at least three more that have. Derek, apparently, doesn’t know much about the others since most of them haven’t kept in touch after an allegedly glorious defeat against an army of hunters. Kira hasn’t been there for the war, but she supposes that the pack would have sought her out if she was truly needed.

Reuniting with Scott is awkward, seeing him hold hands with Allison is even more so. It’s not like Kira had much hope for her and Scott, but it still hurts. It doesn’t sting like a heartache but more like another proof that life went on without her.

She talks with Hikari and Liam before they leave for Japan because that’s their home now, not Beacon Hills. Kira has no idea where her home is anymore.

Half of her life has been dedicated to fighting for control with the Skinwalkers, so readjusting to the changes and modern life should be easy, and yet, Kira finds herself debating on a daily basis the idea of simply going back. What is keeping me here? - it’s a question that echoes too often in her head.

Derek is attentive, but more than that, he understands. He invites her over for more dinners and movie marathons (to help her “catch up on what she’s missed”, and he cringes right after saying it), and talks about his travels proceeding the events in Mexico. She realizes by the second-hour mark that the similarities of their experiences are overshadowed by their unbridgeable differences.

Because Derek returned when his friends were in need, but Kira didn’t.

He shows her the garage, the preserve and the school. Coach doesn’t recognize her but asks whether she’s good at lacrosse and if she would like to join, anyway. This leads to Kira practising with Eli on Mondays, since Derek claims he’s always been more gifted in basketball.

Kira knows what Derek’s doing, really, and she appreciates it. She just doesn’t know how to tell him that the issue isn’t with the place. It’s with her.

It’s 12:14 pm on a Friday when Kira walks into the auto shop. It’s been five weeks since her return and as she enters the shop (instead of waiting outside like usual), the realization hits her of how weird it is that she hasn’t talked to Malia in all that time.

“Hey,” Malia greets, like they've just spoken yesterday (they didn't, not in 14 years), kicking her feet off the counter and plucking the earbuds out of her ear.

Kira is ashamed that she can’t come up with a better reply than “Hi”, accompanied by a not-quite smile to make up for the lack of contact. Not that Malia couldn’t have reached out, Kira reminds herself, and feels a dull pang in her heart. It’s an everyday occurrence.

“What are you doing here?” Malia asks as she stands up, soft sweater bunching up at one of her sides. Derek’s been either rubbing off on her or pestering the woman into warmer clothes as the season turned chilly. It’s an adorable sight, nevertheless.

Kira looks behind herself, wondering for a moment if she should wait outside after all. Then she remembers Malia has always been confrontational and feels her nerves settle at the small glimpse of familiarity.

“Derek promised to buy me lunch,” Kira finally says, glancing around for good measure. Derek’s most likely in the back, though, immersed in grease and work.

Malia nods, looks away, pats down her jeans.

“What if I buy you lunch?”

The question catches Kira off guard and her wide eyes are probably telling since Malia immediately shoves her hands into her jeans and plunges into an explanation.

“Derek’s busy with a demanding asshole’s car and sitting here is getting seriously boring. So please? Put me out of my misery?”

Oh. Well. Kira can roll with that.

“Yeah, sure, if Derek doesn’t mind.”

“Wait here,” Malia instructs before disappearing through the backdoor. Three minutes later, Malia is back with car keys dangling from her fingers and a familiar-looking credit card in her hand. “He doesn’t mind. Now, let’s go. I’m fucking starving.”

The lunch is better than Kira expects. Malia's questions are straightforward but her answers to Kira’s inquires are equally frank. It’s refreshing to finally pour out all the feelings Kira's had bottled up for over a month now. It's also the first time she laughs honestly.

“We should meet up again,” Malia suggests while they're pulling up to Kira's home. Or, well, to her parents’ house.

“Yeah,” Kira agrees readily.

Then, she promptly forgets about wanting to leave for a full week.

“Don’t you want to have your own apartment?” Malia asks with her bare feet trudging in the shallow part of the lake.

Kira pulls her knees up to hug them closer as well as to support her chin as she shrugs noncommittally. “I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Seriously?" Malia looks flummoxed. "Didn’t you make a comment about the absurdity of sleeping in your old bedroom? Right below your One Direction poster?"

Yeah, Kira spent an entire day mourning over that particular change.

“I know, I just never thought I would need a permanent place here.”

Malia freezes in the water at once and aimes her eyes at her submerged feet. Kira can't parse the emotion on her friend's face, and it makes the anxiety that she hasn't felt around Malia yet emerge with frightening intensity.

“You want to leave.”

There's no accusation behind the words but they aren't exactly warm in nature. Kira doesn't want to lie, not to Malia, so she settles on a shrug.

“But you just got back." And now the hurt is audible in Malia's voice.

“Why should I stay here?" Kira asks, pleading for her friend to understand. "Our friends aren’t here anymore, the pack isn’t here anymore, my life isn’t here-“

Kira bites her tongue. When she got back two months ago, she was filled with exhilaration to reunite with her family. Her mother made occasional visits to the Skinwalkers, but it was nothing compared to the almost forgotten scent of his father's cooking or the sound of her mother's singing as it floated through the house. There was no happier moment in Kira's life than when her mother had called about the Nogitsune's return and the Skinwalkers bid her farewell for good. Her training was over.

But Kira didn't live in Beacon Hills for long and she didn't have childhood memories to anchor her to the town. The only thing that was ever valuable in Beacon Hills were her friends and even they had left a long time ago. Kira has no reason to stay.

“I’m here,” Malia's words break through her thoughts, and Kira meets her eyes curiously.

“Why? What holds you back?”

Malia doesn't answer. She simply walks out of the lake and sits beside her in the grass. It's an unusually sunny day.

“Parrish?” Kira chances, and her heart soars when Malia shakes her head lightly.

“I guess... I was waiting for everyone to come back.”

Kira hasn't considered it yet - what it must have felt like to be left behind by all their friends. The worst is, though, that she doesn't remember if she ever said goodbye to Malia.

They listen to the forest while soaking in the pale light of the Sun, and at one point, Malia decides to lie down on her back and just watch the vagrant clouds as they swim past the treetops. Kira hasn't known this kind of peace in... 14 years.

“I guess..." Malia suddenly speaks, quieter but somehow braver, "I was waiting for you to come back.”

Kira looks at the other woman, at the challenge and hope in her eyes. At the evident fear that she bares open for only Kira to see.

She leans onto her side until she hovers above Malia, and slowly, tentatively, takes hold of her hand.

“Will you help me look for an apartment?”

Malia beams, and just like that, Kira no longer regrets coming back.

#kiraweek2023 #kira yukimura #malira #derek & kira #original: teen wolf fanfic

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 15 days

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🐺 Old Flames: Chapter Three

Old Flames: Juniper Camden died, but now she is back. After being revived by the supernaturals of Beacon Hills, Juniper is in for a heartbreaking whirlwind of ‘What the Hell Do I Do Now?’. Her boyfriend has twenty five years on her and a family of his own, she was declared dead years prior, and yet June still looks like the twenty year old she was before she disappeared. What is a girl to do? Avoid Christopher Argent at all costs.

Warnings: Peril, Blood, Angst.

To Note: Chris Argent x NAMED!FemReader.

Word Count: ~5.3k

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You would be trembling where you lay, if you could feel your body that is. Whatever venom the Kanima had laced in its tail and claws worked fast, super fast, because you could no longer feel any part of your body and no matter how hard you tried, none of your limbs responded to your mental commands. You really were stuck.

At least you were still breathing though. The Kanima’s rage of pain quieted, and your heart sped up in your chest again as your ear picked up its movement. The creature, while light footed, was most certainly not happy that you had taken a swing at its head, and you could feel its rage as it stood over you, a hiss building in its chest.

But your luck, as it were, had not completely run out, because one moment you were waiting for it to hit you again, or deliver a finishing blow, and the next it was flying through the air with a disgruntled screech. You heard the sound of it hitting what had to be a tree, and then its roar of pain. There were a few more hisses from the Kanima and just as it had appeared in front of you, it’s sounds disappeared.

Boots crunched on leaves and moss and soon enough someone was crouching down in front of your prone and paralyzed body. Flinching as a hand entered your vision, your head was gently turned so you could see who your rescuer was.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You mumbled underneath your breath as he flashed a smirk down at you.

“Long time no see, Junie,” If you had the facial muscle control to do so, you would have scowled at Peter as he lifted your limp body from the cold ground. “You know, I would have thought that you would’ve had a little more self preservation than this after everything that happened to you.”

God, you wanted to smack him so bad right now.

“She’s just a teenager, Peter,” You huffed from where your head lolled against his shoulder. “And my quick and not so thought out plan wasn’t that bad of an idea. It got confused.”

“Yeah, it got confused, but then you had to go and piss it off,” Peter snorted back as he started walking. “It has your scent now, Juniper, which makes you a target.”

“I was already a target, Peter, have been since the Mendoza’s took me.” You said tiredly. “And it’s not like I have people at home worrying about my safety.”

“I’d say that you did it because she’s your boyfriend’s daughter… but you were already a bleeding heart long before you were put to sleep.”

“You can’t deny that it wasn’t a smart idea, though,” You snipped back, your eyes staring at the buttons of his loose jacket.

“No, it was clever, confusing it with two trails of Allison’s scent, but you still painted a big target on your back and I highly doubt your boyfriend will be happy with you.” Your heart throbbed in pain, that you could feel, a sense of that deep rooted yearning you had been drowning in at the Martin house.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Peter,” You answered softly, closing your tired eyes. “And people need to stop referring to him like that. He hasn’t been mine for years, decades.” Luckily for you, Peter didn’t make a smart ass reply.

Back on the edge of the preserve, Scott, Derek, Jordan, and Chris were gathered, listening to Allison explain what had happened.

“… which ended with her forcing me to switch jackets with her. That’s the last I saw of her.” Chris let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead while Jordan put his hands on his hips and looked into the dark forest.

“So you’re saying we’ve got a forty five year old, who just woke up from a twenty five year magical coma… running around the Preserve in the middle of the night with a Kanima chasing her?” Jordan repeated, trying to wrap his head around what the teenager had said. Allison shifted where she stood.

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible… but Juniper said she knew the preserve like the back of her hand… and have you tried arguing with her? She’s kind of scary.” Jordan let out a deep breath as Derek joined in on the conversation.

“What was she doing out here in the first place?” Derek asked, crossing his arms with his usual scowl. His eyes flickered to Chris. “She looks like she couldn’t even swat a fly.”

“She said she could’t sleep so she was clearing her mind.” Allison said before fishing out the iPod from Juniper’s coat pocket. She looked at it before holding it up. “She’s been taking a lot of walks. Dad, I really think that you—”

Allison cut herself off when Derek and Scott snapped their heads to the side. Peter was emerging from the dark woods with a limp body in his arms. For a moment, Chris felt his heart stop in his chest, but then the highly annoyed voice of one Juniper Camden echoed through the misty night.

“If I wasn’t paralyzed, I’d be slapping the shit out of you right now, Hale.” Juniper snapped out, much to Peter’s amusement. “I am not above kicking your ass now that you’re an adult.”

“How about you get the feeling back in your body first, Junie,” A growl rumbled in the back of Juniper’s throat and from where he stood, Derek sighed.

“Peter, stop antagonizing Juniper,” He sighed out as his uncle approached them.

“I got blood on your coat, Allison, sorry,” Juniper said as the four of them took stock of the damage Juniper had taken.

“Shit, Juniper,” Allison breathed when it became apparent exactly how Juniper had gotten poisoned by the Kanima. On her left thigh was a full set of parallel scratches, revealed through torn jean. Her chin wasn’t looked good either, mud and blood had smeared down her neck and the open wound was still dribbling blood. “What happened!?”

“I… may or may not… have pissed off the Kanima,” Juniper announced vaguely.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘pissed off the Kanima’?” Chris asked, crossing his arms and giving Juniper a stern look. She didn’t even bother to shift her eyes to look at the scowling Argent, choosing to remain silent.

“Let’s just say the Kanima won’t be seeing out of its left eye any time soon, she gave it a good wallop with a rock.” Peter explained. “It was rather impressive.”

“You gave it a good wallop?” Derek repeated, a snort coming from his nose.

“I’m not entirely defenseless and I don’t appreciate reptilian creatures breathing over me with razor sharp teeth in range of my neck.” Juniper said shortly. “Now I am cold, wet, and covered in mud. No way am I going back to the Martin house looking like this, Lydia’s mom will freak.”

“My mom can stitch you up at my house,” Scott spoke up. “I’ll give her a call.”

While Scott was calling his mothers cell to give her the heads up, Juniper could feel the heated gaze of one Christopher Argent on her body, despite being paralyzed. Once again she chose the cowards way out and pretended that he didn’t exist.

It still hurt too much to even look at him.

You were laying on the McCall kitchen island, still paralyzed, but you were down to your t-shirt and underwear while Melissa cleaned up the dirt and mud from your skin. The cleaned half of your body was covered with a blanket to keep you warm, but your left leg was still uncovered and in the process of being cleaned up and stitched.

“I’d yell at you, but considering that you and I are close in age, I won’t.” Melissa said dryly as she wiped blood and mud from your neck. A soft snort slipped passed your lips before you sighed and quietly responded.

“Allison’s still got her whole life in front of her.” Melissa’s eyebrow rose.

“And you don’t?”

“I’m still trying to get my feet under me, let alone stand straight.”

“You still got plenty of years left, you can start again.” You didn’t want to start again. You wanted to go back to your safe and happy life. “Juniper, you’ve been dealing with your situation pretty well, but you aren’t addressing the elephant in the room. Actually, I’m pretty sure you are avoiding it… well, him.”

“What elephant?” You mumbled. She snorted at you and gave you a look.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She was correct, you knew exactly what elephant she was speaking of, but you didn’t want to even think about it—him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You said as Melissa pulled a syringe out and drew medication from a little bottle.

“You’ll need to at some point.”

“Not right now,” You persisted. Melissa sighed and shook her head before looking down at the supplies she had laid out on the kitchen counter across from the island.

“Fine, I’ll drop it, for now,” She said, turning back to you and dabbing at your oozing thigh. “I’m going to give you an injection to prevent you from feeling pain, it’ll make you sleepy and you’ll be out of it for a few hours.”

“I still can’t feel anything…” You pointed out, her eyebrow popped up.

“But you will be, this’ll will stop your body from going into shock when the paralysis wears off.” Melissa explained as she gave you the shot.

From there, Melissa started methodically stitching your skin back together. You couldn’t even feel the tugging on your skin as it was pulled closed, the venom was that powerful. Like she said, you started feeling sleepy, and eventually it felt like you were floating in the clouds.

For the first time since you had woken up, you didn’t feel like the weight of your heart was trying to drive you into the ground.

“Juniper?” A voice asked.

“Hmm?”

“How do you feel? You in any pain?” The voice sounded concerned.

“I’m floating,” You murmured to the voice, your eyelids fluttering up at the darkened ceiling over head. “Sky’s dark though, I think the moon went missing…”

“She is really out of it…” Another voice, a haunting familiar one, echoed.

“Medication I gave her does that, she’ll need to be watched until it is out of her system. We don’t need her wandering off while she is high as a kite…”

“I can’t fly,” You helpfully interjected. “So you don’t need to worry about me flying as high as a kite. Plus, it’s kind of dark for flying anyways…”

There was a snort of laughter and you received a pat on my shoulder.

“Good to know, Juniper… anyways Chris, I think you two really need to talk things out, because at this rate, she is just going to continue avoiding you like you’re avoiding her, and you are going to drive yourself mad listening to Allison talk about everything they’re doing together. Neither of you are handling this very well.”

“How exactly are we supposed to handle this, Melissa? This isn’t exactly an everyday occurrence and there isn’t a handbook on what to do when the girlfriend you thought died twenty-five years earlier, turns up alive and not having aged a day. I’m in my forties and she’s got her whole life ahead of her.”

“Seduce her!” You exclaimed loudly, trying to swing an arm up in emphasis. Your arm stayed in place, still paralyzed so you continued speaking. “Silver foxes are ho—“ You were cut off when a hand covered your mouth.

“This isn’t a conversation I need to be having while we’re dealing with a Kanima and a rogue pack, let alone after Juniper’s had her thigh scratched open.”

“Yoo shwyud toattwy dwate hwer.” You tried adding, despite the hand still covering your mouth.

“Is she usually this chatty under anesthesia? Because I am getting the feeling that this isn’t the first time you’ve had to shut her up.” A deep indentured sigh echoed in the kitchen.

“This is mild compared to when she had her wisdom teeth taken out… How long does she have until the meds are out her system?”

“It’ll be out by morning, she should sleep it off.”

There was a deep throbbing sensation in your thigh that roused you from a dreamless sleep. Shifting where you lay, your face scrunched while you slowly stretched out your aching and very stiff body. Sharp pain ran up the side of your leg and you froze in place, gasping slightly in surprise. Opening your eyes you stared up at unfamiliar ceiling as your hand searched beneath the blanket covering your body for the source of your pain.

Your fingertips brushed fabric wrapped around your thigh and it came back to you. Walking the Preserve. The Kanima. Allison. Allison. Grunting, you lurched into an upright position and looked around for a sign of where you were. You still didn’t recognize where you were, but at least one of your last memories rattling around in your brain was that Allison was safe.

Letting out a breath, you ran a hand through your hair and looked down at the large shirt you was wearing. Tugging on the soft material, faint memories of your jeans being cut from your body surfaced along with flickered of images where your shirt had gotten blood on it. Mellissa wouldn’t allow you to continue wearing bloody clothes, so someone had changed you.

You grimaced as your leg ached against and shifted on the couch you had been laid out on, pulling yourself into a sitting position. Your hair fell over your shoulder in a tangled mess and while you were wracking your brain on the foggier memories, a door opened and closed.

Allison appeared and for a millisecond you felt fine, but then he appeared too and you were freezing in place, your eyes going round. While you gripped the edge of the blanket covering you in a death grip, Allison’s face brightened up in the corner of your eye. But you were not really paying attention to Allison, your attention was completely taken by the blue eyed man who was currently staring back at you.

Twenty five years and those blue eyes were exactly as you remembered. Warm and gentle, homely, and beautiful. He was older but still just as you remembered and loved.

“You’re up!” Allison said brightly. “How’re you feeling? Those scratches looked really nasty and by the number of stitches Mrs. McCall had to put in… I can only imagine the ache.”

You blinked rapidly and managed to tear your gave from Chris’s to look at Allison. You gave her a meek nod and dropped your eyes to your lap.

“I’d ask where my jeans are, but I distinctly remember Mellissa cutting them up before things go foggy,” You murmured, curling your fingers into the blanket. “As for my shirt…”

“Yeah, the blood kind of ruined it to the point of not being salvageable. Sorry.” Allison stated happily as she trotted over. “She also told me to tell you no more midnight walks while there is a Kanima on the loose… or in general since it’s not safe.”

You snorted and looked away, choosing to observe a bookshelf and its contents.

“Something tells me I won’t be doing my normal walks anytime soon anyways.” You said softly before pulling back the blanket to reveal your bandage wrapped thigh. “So… what’s the verdict?”

“I’d tell you, but dad and Mrs. McCall kicked everyone out… so I don’t really know anything at this point.” She explained with a shrug.

“Then why am I here?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Because you needed to be watched and your stitches checked when you woke up.” Your teeth sank into your lower lip at his voice getting closer, and tentatively sneaking a glance up, you saw that Chris was holding a box with a Red Cross on it. “You’ve still got class this morning, Allison, scoot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Allison replied, rolling her eyes and rising to her feet. She gave you a small smile. “I’ll update Lydia on your situation, you’ve got all our cell numbers so text if you need anything.”

“And I am still slow at texting,” You muttered back to her, slumping in place. “Weird technology in such a little device…” Allison walked to where her backpack leaned against a wall and picking it up, she grabbed her car keys off a nearby table. From there she was hurrying out of the apartment leaving you alone with the one man you had been trying so hard to avoid.

Chris sat down on the edge of the coffee table next to where you were laid out and opened the first aid kit, pulling out several gauze pads and antiseptic wipes before setting them aside. All while he was doing this, you tried to keep your gaze straight.

“I’m going to need you sling your leg over my knees, unless you want to lay on my kitchen island…” Pulling the blanket from your left leg, you carefully scooted over to the edge of the sofa and tried to raise your leg to do as he asked. You over estimated your ability to lift your injured thigh and hissed as pain burned across your skin. Chris was immediately sliding his hand underneath your trembling thigh and doing the lifting for you, placing your leg across his knees at an angle so he could reach the wrapped stitches. “Easy, Melissa said your body might take some time to realize that it’s been injured.”

“Well, I’m certainly feeling it,” You snipped beneath your breath before slumping back and staring at the ceiling. “Is there anything else in this town that might potentially kill me while I’m taking a walk? The local vampire perhaps?”

“Most of the creatures here just want to live in peace,” Chris explained as he gently began to unwrap the ACE wrap from your thigh. It took everything you had not to sigh as fingertips brushed against your bare skin. “But you shouldn’t take walks in the middle of the night in the first place, it’s not safe. What were you even doing out there?”

“Clearing my head,” You vaguely answered. He wasn’t satisfied with your answer, you knew that, but he didn’t say anything as he finished taking the ACE wrap off. Chris’s fingers gently peeled the taped gauze covering the stitched wounds, revealing the diagonal lines neatly stitched shut. You had been unlucky enough to get scratched by all five claws and the evidence would forever be etched onto your skin in five diagonal lines. The skin around the area looked red and angry, but at least didn’t look like it was infected. Chris grabbed an alcohol pad and carefully ran it along your skin, occasionally pressing his fingers into your skin.

“Can you feel me pressing?” He asked, his finger tips gliding over your skin. Shivers were going up your spine from his touch alone. You gave him a short nod before looking away once more. There wasn’t much more said or exchanged between the two of you. Once your stitches were all checked, Chris rewrapped your thigh. “I’m sure Allison’s got some sweatpants around somewhere.”

Chris carefully moved your leg back to the couch and rose from the coffee table. While he was hunting down a pair of sweatpants for you to wear, you stared at your rewrapped thigh. You could still feel his gentle touch brushing against your skin, and that made old memories of when his touch wasn’t gentle, but hungry. Fingertips digging into your skin, palms wrapping around your thighs, body pressed against yours…

You dug the heel of your palms into your eyes and willed the images to leave your mind. Why did your brain have to keep torturing you like this? Hadn’t you hurt enough already? Your eyes started burning with unshed tears. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and bit down hard, hoping physical pain would stop the prickling of tears. It worked, sort of, because by the time Chris walked back into the room, sweatpants in hand, the only evidence of your upset was a sniff.

“Juniper?” Chris asked, a frown now on his face. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” You stated flatly, holding out your hand for the sweatpants. You wanted out. Now. It was suffocating just being in his presence.

He wasn’t happy with your flat answer but let your snatch the sweatpants from him. Sitting up on the couch, you grimaced your way through pulling the sweatpants on and started looking around for anything else that was yours. More specifically, your iPod. You couldn’t find it, and panic started to rise in your chest.

“Looking for this?” Momentarily freezing where you stood, you turned to Chris to see him holding out the little iPod, the headphones neatly wrapped around it. You snatched it out of his grasp and clutched it to your chest like it was your lifeline.

“Am I to assume that you are my ride home?” You questioned, your fingers rotating the iPod in your hands nervously.

“Well you aren’t walking home, not on that leg.” It was going to be a long car ride to the Martin house.

“You’re avoiding him.” You glanced up from the kitchen counter to look at Lydia. Concern was plastered across her face.

“I’m avoiding who?” You questioned her, feigning ignorance. Lydia rolled her eyes and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Juniper.” She stated, drumming her manicured nails on the granite. “I also know for a fact that you barely talked to him when you spent the night at the Argent apartment, and haven’t said a word to him since then. It’s been three weeks.”

“I fail to see why I need to talk to him. Or be around him in general.” You huffed drolly. “ Why are you nitpicking my social life?”

“Because you are becoming even more reclusive, Juniper, and I care about you.” Hunching where you sat, you stared at the countertop and remained silent. You didn’t have much to say to that, You were avoiding going out, and people in general. “You know I won’t tell the others anything you say, right? You have my complete confidentiality.”

You sunk your teeth into your lip and sat in your turmoil of thoughts, feeling the need to burst into tears again. Holding onto your true feelings about your current state was dragging you down. You felt like weights had been attached to your ankles.

“I don’t think I can get over him.” You spoke softly, twisting your fingers together. “I just want my life back where I felt safe and comfortable, happy. Now, now I just feel empty. What’s the purpose of my life? What was the purpose of waking me up?”

Looking up at Lydia, you saw that her look had softened.

“Everyday it only hurts more and I don’t know how to make it stop.” Your voice dropped to a dead whisper and your lips wobbled. “God, I feel so pathetic and weak.”

“That’s not weak or pathetic, it’s called heartbreak.” Lydia said gently. “And they woke you up because they thought it was the right thing to do, it is the right thing to do. No matter how much you’re hurting. You can’t sleep forever.”

“Even if it meant not feeling like someone ripped my heart out with a fork?”

“You still have your whole life ahead of you, Juniper, that’s why they woke you up. Are you going to let this be the reason you don’t find happiness again?” Lydia asked, waving her hand. “The Juniper I’ve gotten to know doesn’t seem the type to be defeated by heartbreak.”

“I don’t know how to be happy without him.” You answered with a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know how to be me without him.”

“Who says you have to?” She pointed out. “You’re the one pushing him away. Granted he’s not chasing after you… but I get the feeling he’s trying to give you the best chance you have at a normal life. That means keeping you out of the supernatural business, keeping you out of his life.”

“I don’t want a normal life, I want him.”

“Have you told him that?”

“What do you think?” You retorted, planting your elbow on the counter and dropping your chin into your hand. “I can’t even look him in the face.”

“Well then we need to come up with a plan.” Lydia said frankly, putting her hands on her hips. “Because I am not going to allow my new best friend to remain heartbroken.”

“Come up with—“ You were interrupted by the sounds of the Martin front door bursting open. Lydia and you turned your heads to see Allison out of breath with Stiles hot on her heels.

“We’ve got a big problem!” Allison burst out. “The other pack, they came to have a negotiation which my dad was helping with, but instead of the pack showing up a group of hunters did. Isaac has a bullet in him and they won’t let anyone near him until a deal is negotiated for the McCall pack to leave Beacon Hills.”

“And you came to me for?” Lydia asked in confusion.

“We didn’t come for you, no offense Lydia.” Stiles interjected before turning his eyes to you. “We came for her.”

“Me?” You questioned in confusion. “Why me?”

“You dated my dad, surely you know something that will help. We think it has to do with Gerard, you worked with him so you know him better.” Allison explained in a rush.

“We also panicked and you’re kind of an adult so…” Stiles added before getting elbowed by Allison. “What? I’m not wrong… we’re gonna get yelled at, at least with Juniper we can say we had adult supervision…”

“Pretty sure that still doesn’t count since I spent twenty five years of my life asleep.” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. What could you do? You had spent plenty of time learning all about Gerard’s true colors from the Hale’s. He was vicious man, you knew that from your own experience, and the only thing that would solve this would be to be just as cutthroat if they were sent by Gerard. “He’s your grandfather, Allison. And if Chris is there, everything will be handled.”

“Yeah but I don’t know him that well.” Allison pointed out. “And he and dad have not been getting along since Dad started enforcing the ‘we don’t kill those that do no harm’ rule. They’ll be at each other throats soon. Well, I think they already are.”

They were at a cross roads, hunter on hunter, with teenage supernaturals stuck in the middle. You sighed.

“Allison, does your father keep an armory in your apartment?” You asked. Allison frowned for a moment before responding.

“Yes, but he keeps the guns and hunting equipment locked up.” Another barrier. You heaved a breath and rubbed your forehead again.

“It’s a start. Let me get changed.”

After you had changed out of lounge clothes and into jeans and sturdy shirt with a jacket, Allison had brought the four of you to the Argent apartment. From there she let you into the makeshift armory.

“Like I said, everything we’d need is here, but I don’t have the codes for most it.” She said as you looked around. Your eyes brushed over heavy metal boxes that no doubt housed weaponry appropriate for hunting. Most of the boxes looked relatively new and had complex locks, you wouldn’t be getting into them. This wasn’t unusual for the Argents to have since Chris was the son of the of Argent Arms International creator.

Then you spotted it.

A small smile started creeping on your face and walking over to a workbench, you crouched down and grabbed the handle on the side of the older container. You hefted it out from under the bench and maneuvered it onto the workbench top.

“I’ve seen that box before, dad always kept it around, but I’ve never seen him actually open it so I don’t know what’s inside it.” Allison said as you picked up the lock and looked at the five number scrolls.

“That’s because,” You said, your finger swirling the little dials until you had the right number combination. “This isn’t his.”

Pulling on the lock, the locking mechanisms released with a click. Setting the lock aside, you grabbed the lid and pushed it open to reveal the two desert eagle hand guns you had.

“Oh come on, Chris,” You grumbled out in disappointment. “Twenty five years and you still haven’t changed the code?”

“Holy shit,” Stiles muttered as you reached for one of the desert eagles and held it in your hand, rotating it and getting used to the feel once more.

“I’ve learned a thing or two from your father.” You spoke up, glancing at Allison before seeing a flash of silver in the corner of your eye. Setting the hand gun back in its respective place, you dug your fingers into the case until they found the object and pulled it out. The silver necklace Chris had given you all those years ago glittered back at you. “I was wondering where you went.”

Rotating the silver necklace in your fingers, you were deaf to Lydia approaching.

“That looks pretty,” She said. “Silver?”

“Argentium, actually.” You spoke. “It has more pure silver in it than regular. Christopher got it for me for graduation after we agreed to wait on getting married.”

“All Argent’s get an Argentium piece at some point in their life.” Allison explained as she slowly strapped her quiver to her back. “Right of passage I think, I got mine after my first test. You should wear it, Juniper, you’re one of us.”

“Am I?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Considering my dad is still pining over you? Yes.” You stared at her with an unchanged face.

“We are also running on limited time.” Stiles unhelpfully announced. You shot him a look over your shoulder and he shrunk back. “I’ll just be over here, not touching anything…”

You decided to hook the silver back around your neck, it was a present from Chris and you were going to cherish it, even if you were no longer together.

Returning your attention to the contents of your container, you pulled out your hunting knife and it’s leg holster, quickly settling it on your right thigh since your left was still sensitive from being scratched open and reached for one the desert eagles. Plucking it from the case, you grabbed a magazine and checked for bullets before sliding it into the gun and placing on the workbench.

“Allison, do you have qualms about putting an arrow into a man?” You questioned as you reached for the belt holster for your gun. “Because in my experience, those that Gerard works with are not people to underestimate or give leeway to.”

You wove the holster through your belt loops and clipped it in place before tucking the hand gun in its respective place.

“If you are asking me if I have qualms about shooting something, or someone, in the ass if I need to… no, it won’t be a problem.” Allison said as she tested her bow string. Stiles was nervously looking between the two of you.

“Do I need to be worried?” He asked. You looked at him as you reached for a second knife and tucked it into your boot.

“Very.” You said shutting the lid on your box. “Lydia, can you head back to your house and keep your mom busy tonight? I don’t know how long this will take and Gerard is always unpredictable.”

“I’ve got you, just don’t get killed. I’ve actually really liked having you around.” Lydia told you as you headed for the exit of the armory.

“I don’t plan on it.”

Date Published: 6/17/22

Last Edit: 9/15/23

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#chris argent x reader #chris argent #christopher argent #teen wolf

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dailyscottficrec · 1 year

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Happy Birthday Mem <3

Please enjoy this long recommendation post in honor of @momentofmemory's birthday. I've said it before and I will say it again, I highly recommend everything she writes. If you are looking for genfic, Scott centric fic and fic that just exudes love for the canon and characters: this is the place to go!

(find her fics here: momentofmemory)

all these years left unspoken

It’s been ten years since it happened. Five, since she was last here.

It doesn’t feel like it.

(or, Lydia Martin lost her best friend at seventeen, and the worst part is that she has so much time to figure out how to live with that.)

This was the first fic of hers that I read. It really captures the essence of grief and mourning so well. It gives you such a gut punch re: how young Allison is when she dies and how young Lydia is too. I love it so much.

what measure is a non-human

“Scott!”

Kira’s sprinting past him before Stiles can get an appropriate what the hell out, and she just barely catches Scott before he nosedives into the asphalt. A shell-shocked Liam appears from behind a row of cars, hands reaching for Scott like he wants to help, but isn’t sure if he’d be welcome.

The only sound louder than Stiles’ feet slapping against the pavement is his heart pounding in his ears.

Ahhh! I love this one so much. The exploration of Scott's pain and scira comfort of it. My heeeearrt.

administered twice, daily

It’s been—a lot, to say the least. Between wrapping up all the loose ends from what Theo, the Dread Doctors, and the Beast did, and untangling the mess his own pack had become, he hasn’t had a shift at the clinic since—well. Before.

It figures it’d be raining.

He blinks up at the streetlights, the hum of electricity buzzing underneath the harsh patter of the rain, and it feels too much like too many things.

Wolfsbane, asthma, claws. Kira, Stiles, Liam.

(Dying, dying, dying.)

I *just* read this today!! I can't even believe I had missed it. Both Deaton and Scott's voices are absolutely impeccable. I love how much they say without ever saying it and the exploration of Scott's grief and pain over his own death. Gyahhh! And there is Scott cuddling kittens? Lovely.

meet me on the landing

There’s nothing at the foot of the stairs.

Gravel under his shoes, gasoline in his nose. Flames reflecting off his eyes and flecks of deep-red rust from the motel steps on his palms.

But nothing, whisper his thoughts. Nothing for you.

(or: a series of ten interconnected, 100-word drabbles exploring Scott's character arc through the lens of staircases.)

Mem and I live together at the top of the "a proper drabble is exactly 100 words hill" and I learned that after reading this fic. And gushing about how lovely it is. I love that each drabble stands alone and then how they also tie together. It's a lovely look at each moment and I adore this fic so much.

retrouvaille

retrouvaille (n): the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation.

Ken gives Kira the phone three weeks before they move.

It’s an eye-catching bright yellow, designed to match the intensity of her favorite watch, with a package of professional apps preloaded to the home screen and technical specs boasting an unprecedented 64gb of storage. The most important part to Ken, however, is the impressive-looking camera lens protruding from the back.

!!!! Ken's voice in this is amazing. This explores Ken's relationship with Kira and is so so lovely. I love the bit at the end that explores Ken and Scott too!

codominance.

Scott veers the jeep sharply off the road just in time for it to rattle to a stop.

Stiles is uncharacteristically silent beside him.

Scott breathes through his nose and watches as the arrow on the gas gauge drifts down to empty—honest, now that it’s too late.

Now that it’s dead.

This is arguably mem's most famous fic. I remember teasing her about having a box of tissues ready when she finished it. I need them. This fic is absolutely dripping with love for Scott and Stiles and their relationship. Every single line is so measured and so impactful. If you read only one, I suggest this one. (But really, check them all out)

hiraeth

He reads the pamphlets on the table outside the counselor’s office at school: Your body is changing, they say.

He thinks, no. My body was replaced.

This is a shorter piece- but it packs SUCH a bunch. It really explores the effects of the body horror Scott feels after s1-2. It does a lot in such a little amount of time.

the devil you didn’t know

He hasn’t heard that voice in nearly two years, but it’s instantly recognizable. “Danny?”

There’s a low rumble of a laugh, not quite like he remembers, but when he hurries past the threshold he’s met with the blinding, ear-to-ear grin of his former classmate.

“In the flesh,” Danny says, rainwater dripping from the black leather of his jacket as he gives Scott an open-armed shrug.

I absolutely love the horror vibes in this one! The tension is so good!!! And I always love Scott and Danny content. This one is so fun!

electric love

Scott’s toaster zaps him twice when he stumbles into the kitchen at 5:30 in the morning.

He doesn’t think much of it.

This is such a sweet scira, Kira comes back fic!! I love just how nervous but affectionate they are around each other at the end. This is sooo sweet.

the family business

There’s a gun in Scott’s face.

He doesn’t know guns. Has no idea what the caliber is or the range it has, or honestly even what a caliber is.

He just knows that it’s Big.

I am not exaggerating in the least when I say read this every time I watch 2x01 now. This scene from Scott's POV is so ahhhh, it really hits home that he's *sixteen* and that this kind of violence has just recently become his life. Gyahhha. I love it.

varicose veins

Theo can smell Scott’s sweat from the long run. The aftershave he’d used this morning. The rain-smell of his clothes.

Still none of the exhaustion he knows has to be there, or the relief from making it out of the elements. Not a thing about his emotional state at all.

It’s not like him.

Scott from Theo's pov is always so good, and this is absolutely no exception. This explores Scott's relationship with pain taking and pain and Theo's relationship with Scott and the Dread Doctors and pain so well. I love it so much.

schrödinger’s boy

Mason checks his hands. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for.

Claws?

Smoke?

He just sees skin.

This Mason post Beast trauma character study is sooo good. I love that it explores Mason's relationships with Liam, Sydney and Scott so well. Love it.

guardian

Melissa looks frazzled, hair twisted in a mess and clothes soaked, but she doesn’t waste a second in sizing Jennifer up. “Who the hell are you?”

The frightened courage in her eyes is all too similar to her son’s.

The genuine confusion, however, is not.

This might be easier than Jennifer had thought.

This is a look at Scott from Jennifer's POV during 3a, and it's soo chillingly good. It was the first of the collaborative series we worked together on, and it was so fun, too! I loved Jennifer's voice in this so much and the way it really hits home the trauma of your English teacher also being your enemy.

blood in the water

There’s blood on the shower wall.

It’s smeared over the tile at chest height, handprints just barely distinguishable in the bright red streaks. Thin, watery droplets glide slowly down the wall. Fresh—as if it’d been splattered there seconds ago.

It hadn’t been there this morning.

(or, 5 times Scott washed the blood off alone, +1 time he didn’t have to.)

Are you a hurt!Scott fan? Me toooo. And wow, does this deliver. I love the imagery and the emphasis on Scott's disassociation. And then the +1 just puts you so high on scalia feelings. Love, love, love.

zebra cakes

“Have you ever…” Lydia pauses, catching a glossy lip between her teeth. “Do you ever feel like you’re falling?”

Malia frowns.

All four legs of Lydia’s chair are anchored safely (and boringly) on the library floor.

Malia tilts hers back another couple inches, situating her boots confidently on the table. “Nope.”

Lydia sighs. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

This is such a good look at Malia and Lydia friendship. It also catches the essence of grief and mourning so well. It's really a Malia and Lydia character study and rings so true for both of them. Highly recommend.

futility

“If you wanted to murder me,” he says, turning slowly to face the source of the scent, “there are less public places you could do it.”

Tamora Monroe smiles at him, still nearly ten yards away. The sage bushes neatly obscure the pistol at her hip.

“You can’t murder an animal,” she says.

“In your mind, maybe. But it looks the same on paper.”

This was originally a tumblr fic and I am so glad mem cleaned it up for a03. There is a lack of Tamora content and Scott and Tamora content and this excellent fic corrects Crimes. I love the emphasis on just how tired Scott is along with how he still wants to change her mind. I love, love, love.

silence

Stiles watches Scott’s chest expand on the inhale; collapse on the exhale. His button-down shirt sticks lightly to his front, damp only with sweat, instead of the blood Stiles had seen days before.

Stiles wishes he’d snore. Talk in his sleep. Something.

He raps his own fingernails against the handle, achingly loud against the silence.

This is a Stiles pov tag fic to codominace. And it's so good. I love how clearly you can feel that Stiles loves Scott in this. It fits in the fic and enriches the relationship between them and I love it, too.

heavy heart

“I can get you out,” Theo says. “It’s a low dose—you probably won’t even notice the wolfsbane for the first couple floors.”

Scott leans heavily against the table in the center of the room. “After that?”

“You’ll start getting weak. After a few more floors, you’ll pass out.” Theo makes sure his voice doesn’t waver. “And then I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

This was part of the sceo collaboration. And it's another hurt! Scott. Favorite. Beloved. I really enjoyed the parallels between wolfsbane and asthma. And the tension between them here is so fun. Gyhahh!

what do you know

Melissa finally musters up the nerve to rap on the window between them. “Kira? Honey, are you okay?”

Three seconds slip by—tick, tick, tick—before Kira’s head turns, slowly, like she’s half asleep.

The look in her eyes startles Melissa.

This was another collaboration. This time looking at Kira over the years through different eyes. I remember we all found this a lot harder than we expected, so it's extra satisfying that this is so lovely. This explores Melissa and Kira during the time in s5 when they have no idea what is going on with Kira. It's so good. I love how it really adds to canon.

perspective

Surprise radiates from Scott’s scent at Deucalion’s instruction. “I’m going… home?”

“‘Going home’ isn’t an option anymore,” Deucalion corrects. “At least, not the one you’re thinking of.”

This was another tumblr fic- written for me. And I adore it so much, I probably reread it on tumblr 10-15 times. Now it is on a03 where I can enjoy it. Mem and I are both forever fascinated by the missing 24 hours that Scott is with Deucalion in 3a and this fic explores that. I also love snarky! Scott so much. Another feature.

worth fighting for

Table at his back.

Pain.

Restraints around his wrists.

Kate?

Harsh fluorescent lights glaring down, bright like the High Line, isolating like the church.

He can’t think.

Or: Scott wakes in an unfamiliar place. It gets worse from there.

It would be disingenuine of me to say anything other than this is my favorite mem!fic. They are all great, but this was written for me- tailored to exactly the kind of stuff I like. It has captive! Scott, hurt!Scott, all the villains, scira, BAMF Scott and BAMF Kira, and it explores Bardo and Scott's relationship with death?? And just. Everything about it makes me so happy always. <3 <3 <3

#teen wolf #scott mccall #kira yukimura #stiles stilinski #sciles #theo raeken #sceo #scira #lydia martin #malia tate #scalia #alan deaton #ken yukimura #tamora monroe #deucalion #happy birthday mem #may this bring you half the joy you bring to fandom with your passion your kindness and your work #long post

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