“Please.”
Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.
Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.
“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”
Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.
Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.
His messages had read:
> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?
And:
> ill let myself in if thats cool?
And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:
> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed
> all shall be revealed
> lol i don't know why i put that
> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?
> as if you wouldn't lol
> #sourwolf
> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me
And then, a few seconds later:
> right?
Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:
Okay, weirdo <
About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.
“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”
Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.
When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.
Let me.
Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.
Let him what?
Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.
Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.
He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.
“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”
And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.
“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.
And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.
Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.
“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.
Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.
Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.
The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”
Then he promptly stops breathing.
Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?
He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.
Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.
As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.
Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”
Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.
Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.
Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.
.
for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)
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Jasmine: (Walks into Acadia on her own after a long day. She still hasn’t uttered at word out loud to anyone other than Nick, Kasumi, or Jules)
DiMA: (Stands from his chair to greet the teen) “Hello there, Jasmine! I hear you and Nick have had quite an adventure here on the Island.”
Jasmine: (Stops and slowly blinks at her new uncle, still very wary of him because of what he’s done to Jules who was her only friend at Acadia)
DiMA: (Smiles warmly and approaches) “Is there anything you want to know about the Island and its inhabitants? I have had my own fair share of adventures, I could recount a few to you if that’s something you’d like.”
Jasmine: (Blinks some more, then rubs her eyes) “Desculpe me.” (Yawns sleepily as she stretches out) “Estoy muy cansada porque anoche yo no dormí.”
DiMA: (Rubs his chin) “Hrm, that’s a foreign language that I am not familiar with. Though, so far there hadn't been much need for any other language other than English.”
Jasmine: (Straightens up then shakes her head) “No entiendo, señor.” (Makes a motion with her hand) “Más despacio, por favor.”
DiMA: “I think I have a better idea.” (Stares off for a few seconds) “………” (Starts sizzling like an old overworked computer as he installs Google Translate)
Jasmine: (Under her breath) “Oh fuck….”
Faraday: (Comes running in) “NOOOOOO! He can’t run a translator anymore! He’s too old and fragile!”
Chase: (Also comes flying in) “Get him to stop!”
Faraday: (Rushes over to a terminal) “I’m trying!”
Jasmine: (Steps back and tilts her head at the two) “No entiendo qué es lo que quieres.”
Chase: (Sternly) “Stop that! Stop talking!”
Jasmine: (Folds her hands and smiles innocently and politely) “Padrón señorita, yo no hablo inglés.”
Faraday: (Swears and grumbles like he’s a crazy person on drugs)
DiMA: (Sizzling and steaming to the point you could cook an egg on him)
Jasmine: (Motions to DiMA) “¿Está bien?”
Faraday: (Desperately mashing buttons) “VALENTINE! PLEASE COME GET BABY VALENTINE BEFORE SHE BLOWS UP THE WHOLE DAMN OBSERVATORY!!” (Screams at the terminal as it crashes and reboots)
Jasmine: (Crosses her arms) “Usted es un hombre muy estresado. ¿Estás bien? ¡Necesitas ayuda para los locos!”
Faraday: (Smacks the terminal multiple times as he yells over his shoulder) “I DO NOT UNDERSTAND A WORD YOU ARE SAYING!!!”
Jasmine: (Mumbling to herself) “El gringo es un loco hombre y estúpido.” (Thinks it obvious she was joking from the start, they are all just too dense to notice)
Chase: “WE TOLD YOU TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH!!!”
Jasmine: “Ustedes cállense la boca!!!” (Throws up her hands) “¡No estoy haciendo nada!” (Jabs a finger at DiMA) “¡Es su culpa!” (She didn’t tell the synth to download a translator, just to talk more slowly)
Nick: (Appears from the stairway) “Alright missy, that’s enough outta you for one day.” (Snatches his daughter’s hand and starts dragging her away)
Faraday: (Squawking like a distressed and disturbed parrot as he shakes and bangs the terminal)
Jasmine: (Follows along without any complaints) “Papá, tú familia está MUY loca. ¿Por qué es eso?”
Nick: (Tired Dad sigh) “Let’s just get you to bed before ya blow your uncles fuse too….”
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Has anyone (including me) pointed out that the two known fallen angels (Lucifer and Vaggie) were forced out of Heaven, which indicates that angels can't spontaneously fall and have to be physically removed from Heaven?
In Lucifer's case, he was kicked out because he gave the Fruit of Knowledge to Eve. He isn't mentioned to have simply fallen, he was physically kicked out of Heaven. The visuals at the start of More Than Anything also support this, if you want to make the argument that the prologue bit in Overture is unreliable for any reason.
In Vaggie's case, she was attacked by Lute and forcibly had her halo and wings taken from her (as you can actually see Lute toss Vaggie's halo to Adam as they walk away in that flashback in Welcome to Heaven). Without her wings, she wouldn't have been able to get back into Heaven and was forced to stay in Hell.
This adds an extra layer to Sera telling Emily she doesn't want her to end up like Lucifer. Sera would have to physically kick her out of Heaven, she's not going to fall spontaneously because from what we've seen and as far as we know, angels can't fall spontaneously.
We also know Sera is the top seraph (going by both what we've seen in Hazbin Hotel and by biblical canon, as it wouldn't be a stretch to assume Sera is Hazbin Hotel's version of Seraphiel) and, assuming God exists in the Hellaverse, she's the second most powerful being in Heaven (if God doesn't exist in the Hellaverse, she's probably the most powerful person in the show). It's also not a stretch to assume she wields this power by threatening anyone who questions Heaven. Sera very likely uses intimidation and fear to control Heaven, and it'd be really easy to threaten other angels with falling to control them.
Like genuinely I don't think angels can fall spontaneously. I feel like Adam (possibly Lute too idk) would've fallen by the start of the series if they could. I think the threat of falling spontaneously is purely made up by Sera so the other angels are easier to control. Of course, this is just a theory/headcanon. But to me, it explains so much of Sera's behavior. Why she's so controlling, why she's so afraid of Emily standing up to her. Because if Em """needs""" to fall, Sera would be the one kicking her out of Heaven, not some higher force forcing her to Hell.
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