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giveemhales · 3 years

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Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 22/?

For @sterekvalentineweek Day 3

Secret Crush

4 times Stiles gave Derek a valentine, and 1 time Derek decided to return the favor.

The story can be read under the cut or on AO3!

1st grade

Derek was new, and that’s what causes the whole fiasco.

Well, not exactly new. He had been at the school since the school year had started back in August, and it was now February. But he was new in that it’s the first year anyone in his family has ever attended public school. Born into a powerful pack of werewolves with a history spanning back centuries, he had been raised surrounded only by werewolves and humans who knew about the supernatural. None of his relatives had ever gone to public school, as the risk was deemed too great to send children out in public where they may accidentally reveal their true nature. Derek and his siblings were supposed to be home-schooled, as was tradition.

However, times were changing, and their emissary had suggested the children should start attending public school. Not only was it to help the children learn how to handle being around humans and in public, but also the hunters were becoming more aggressive, and it was advised that they act as much like normal humans as possible so as not to raise suspicion.

So Derek and his older sister, Laura, were the first werewolves in the Hale pack history to go to public school. It was their first year for both of them, Derek in first grade and Laura in second. They had spent the years before learning how to control their shift under the guise of home-schooling, and the family was confident they would blend right in.

They did blend in, for the most part, never letting their eyes change color and holding back growls no matter how angry they became. But apparently, there was more to being human than just looking the part. There were all these rules and customs that everyone seemed to know except them. Derek rarely minded his family’s social faux pas, honestly never really noticing them. But on this one occasion, everyone noticed, and he was particularly upset.

It was Valentine’s Day, a holiday which his family never celebrated (why did humans need a holiday to show their adoration for their mates? How strange). The lack of experience with the holiday is why nobody in the family realized it was customary to bring “valentines” to school to share with classmates, and that’s why he arrived empty-handed.

When all the other students set up their boxes in which to receive treats, he watched in confusion, which morphed into dawning horror when he realized everyone had gifts to hand out except for him.

Derek had hoped he could slip under the radar, receive the gifts like everyone else and then maybe bring double the treats next year to make up for it.

The teacher had a different idea. The teacher scolded him in front of the whole class for being irresponsible and inconsiderate, and told him that if he had nothing to share, then nobody could share with him. He had to sit in the corner by himself and think about what he had done wrong (he was 6 years old, he didn’t have money or a calendar, this hardly seemed like his fault).

So Derek sat in the corner by himself, not only having to hear all of the other kids laugh and have a great time, but also smell the delicious treats thanks to his werewolf nose. He was used to being on his own at school, not having made any real friends, but it hurt so much more knowing he was being purposefully excluded. He had to fight hard to hold back his claws, and even harder to fight back tears. He hated this stupid school and the stupid humans in it and their stupid rules and traditions and just wanted to go home.

When the school day was finally, blessedly over, Derek shuffled out of the room with his head bowed and shoulders hunched, not wanting to see the smiles on all of the other kids’ faces and not wanting them to see the frown on his, unable to help feeling like they were mocking him.

He made it out the front doors of the school, and thought he was finally free, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He turned with a scowl. It was a student in his class named Stiles. Derek wasn’t really friends with him. They had played together at recess a couple of times and he seemed funny and nice, but it wasn’t like they had ever spoken outside of school.

Derek began to wonder if he was wrong in his categorization of Stiles as nice, because he could think of no reason for any of his classmates to stop him except to gloat. Before Stiles had even said anything, Derek was already seething, thinking about the treat Stiles had brought that everyone had gotten to try except for him. While most of the students had just brought candy, Stiles had brought clearly homemade sugar cookies, and the scent had had Derek salivating in his isolation.

Before he could snap at Stiles in anger, however, Stiles thrust his hands forward in an offering. Derek looked down and was surprised to see he was holding two cookies, each partially covered by a napkin.

“Sorry Mrs. Johnson was so mean to you today. She said that we weren’t allowed to give you any valentines but I think that’s mean and dumb and I don’t follow mean and dumb rules. So I saved you a cookie. Actually, I saved you two cookies, one of them is for your sister because I figure if you didn’t bring any valentines then she probably didn’t either and might have also not been allowed any treats, which would be so sad because what’s the point of Valentine’s day besides the treats. If you eat them both, though, that’s okay because you didn’t get any candy or anything so I think you probably deserve two cookies. I would give you even more cookies but I only had the one that was already for you, and then the extra one my mom packed in my lunch box. I wanted to eat that one and then I also wanted to eat yours but I realized I shouldn’t because my mom already gave me a cookie last night so I really don’t need another and also my mom bakes all the time and most people don’t get to try the greatness of her cookies and so I have a respons- responsabl- responsibit- it’s my job to share the cookies.”

Stiles finally quit his rambling to stare expectantly at Derek, who was staring back in shock. He shoved his hands forward again, until Derek finally took the offered cookies.

Derek didn’t even get the chance to say thank you before Stiles was talking again, telling some story about a time he forgot his shoes at home and how that was way worse than forgetting some valentines. He kept talking before he noticed the bus was beginning to leave, and sprinted off without so much as a goodbye.

Derek looked down once again at the cookies, and saw there was a note included. Written on a sticky note in first-grader scrawl, it said Sorry the teacher is so mean. You can be my BVF (best valentine forever). Valentine was written three different times, the first two times crossed out as he clearly wasn’t positive how the word was spelled.

Derek did end up giving the second cookie to Laura, and he found he didn’t mind because he knew the note was all his.

4th grade

Derek still didn’t particularly care for Valentine’s Day, his introduction to the holiday forever tainting his opinion, but he had still come to find himself excited about the impending sugar.

There was a storm cloud over this Valentine’s Day, though, at least for Derek and definitely for Stiles. Ever since first grade, Derek had looked forward to the homemade treats Stiles would bring, baked with love by his mother.

Derek knew that wouldn’t be the case on this day, though, because Stiles’ mother had passed away a couple of months before.

Everyone in the small town knew about it, rumors constantly spreading about the sheriff’s new drinking habits. Nobody seemed to notice the effect it had on the young boy. But Derek did.

Stiles had become more withdrawn in the months leading up to his mother’s death, presumably having to deal with her illness, but it was like he shut down once she was gone. The boy who once talked a mile a minute now was silent, except for the occasional whispers to his best friend. His absences became more frequent, and he stopped bringing a lunch to school, instead having to buy cafeteria food he would rarely eat. The worst part though was the scent of grief that constantly clung to him.

Derek saw how badly he was affected and could only hope that he would heal with time. Derek wished he knew how to help, but he still hadn’t even figured out how to make friends, let alone how to help someone cope with the loss of a parent.

So Derek knew he wouldn’t be getting any baked goods on this day, that he probably wouldn’t be receiving anything from Stiles. He just hoped that the teacher wasn’t as rude about it as his first-grade teacher had been.

Derek was proven wrong though. Stiles hadn’t brought cookies or anything of the like, but he had brought valentines. For every classmate, he had a red piece of paper which he had folded into a heart and marked with their names. They weren’t perfect, but they were definitely better than most nine-year-olds could do.

Derek was so touched at the small gift, and seethed when he saw none of the other students saw it for what it was. He even saw one student throw their heart in the trash (which Derek made a point to dig out and keep for himself because that heart was something Stiles had spent time on and deserved to be cherished). None of the students realized how kind Stiles was. That while dealing with grief, which was probably made even worse with the holiday bringing on a reminder of a tradition he could no longer partake in, and a father who himself was probably still grieving and didn’t remember he was supposed to get valentines for his son, Stiles had still made sure he had something to give to his classmates. This gift was far more valuable than anything any other student had brought.

Derek was even more touched when he realized that there was a note written inside of the heart, too. He carefully unfolded it, making sure to keep track of how he did it so he would be able to refold it, and read what was inside.

Don’t tell Scott, but you’re still my favorite Valentine.

It was made even better when he realized the other heart he had, the one from the trash, had no note, meaning Stiles had written a note especially for Derek.

Derek gave Stiles the warmest smile he could from across the room and vowed to keep that note forever.

6th grade

Derek was quick to realize Valentine’s Day was not the same in middle school as in elementary. For one, there was no making mailboxes or handing out valentines. If you wanted to celebrate the holiday, you had to do it on your own time.

The second major difference was that “like-liking” someone was a thing, and lots of girls “like-liked” Derek. Derek was apparently one of the cutest guys in the grade, and that helped immensely with his popularity. He had finally been able to make some friends, which was nice.

Derek wasn’t really a fan of all of the attention he got at school, though. He would have preferred to just spend time with the couple of best friends he had made, and ignore all of the people who wanted to be his friend solely for his status.

He knew Valentine’s Day would give some girls the perfect opportunity to confess their “feelings” for him (they didn’t even know him!) and Derek was not looking forward to it.

Derek had been correct in his assumption, and by the end of the day, three different girls had asked to be his Valentine, and he had to kindly reject them all. It was far too much for him, and he was exhausted by the end of the day.

Before he could go home, though, he had to stop at his locker to grab a textbook he needed for class.

He was surprised, and a little bit disturbed, to find a box of chocolates in his locker. It was definitely too big for someone to just slip through the slots, so someone would have had to break into his locker to get it there.

Derek immediately felt all of his annoyance of the day growing. Why could these girls not leave him alone?

However, when he leaned in to grab the box, he caught a whiff of a scent that had him calming down.

Stiles.

Suddenly, Derek found he wasn’t too upset. It wasn’t at all surprising that the boy knew how to break into lockers, and Derek found himself inexplicably preening at the thought that the boy still wanted to be his Valentine.

Taped to the bottom of the box was a typed note with no signature, clearly meant to anonymous. Derek likely never would have known who it was if it wasn’t for his werewolf senses.

The note simply read “Why don’t they let us hand out candy anymore? Middle school is lame. Don’t worry, I won’t let them ruin the holiday for you (everyone knows the sweets are the whole point). Hope you enjoy the chocolates, valentine.”

On second thought, Derek realized he probably would have been able to figure out it was Stiles, just based on the note. He could practically hear the words in Stiles’ voice. He would still let him think he got away with being anonymous, though.

Maybe middle school Valentine’s Days weren’t so bad, after all.

10th grade

Derek just knew this was going to be the worst Valentine’s Day ever, and he wished that he could just skip the whole day. He would totally pretend to be sick so he could stay home except that werewolves can’t get sick so he doubted that would fly with his parents.

Derek had broken up with his girlfriend, Paige, just a couple of weeks before. He knew that in the grand scheme of things they weren’t that serious, they hadn’t even been together for a whole year, but he had felt like he was madly in love with her.

He was healing, of course, and, for the most part, had moved on. But Valentine’s Day would just be a reminder of what he was missing (it stung every time he remembered he never got the chance to celebrate Valentine’s Day with her, he had been secretly excited to finally have a real significant other to be romantic with). That, and due to his popular status, the day would either bring on pitying looks from all of the students who thought his relationship was somehow their business, or flirting from girls who thought they now had a chance. Knowing his luck, probably a combination of both.

Derek groaned when he walked into his first-period history class and saw a heart-shaped balloon tied to the back of the desk he usually sat at. This was absolutely the last thing he wanted to deal with. He thought about just sitting at a different desk but figured it was better to go ahead and throw away the balloon before class started so as to avoid drawing any attention.

When he got to his desk, he saw a note tied to the string of the balloon. He opened it and a smile bloomed on his face when he was met with typed words.

Of course! He had been so focused on Paige that he forgot about the annual tradition Stiles had begun in the sixth grade of leaving secret gifts with notes for Derek.

Stiles wasn’t even in the class so Derek didn’t even know how he had known which desk was his, but at this point, nothing Stiles did could really surprise him.

I know they may not be the usual sweets, but I figure with this, you can tell anyone who bothers you that you already have a valentine. You know I’ve always got your back, Valentine.

The note just reconfirmed for Derek that it was from Stiles.

The gift cheered him up immensely, and he felt his qualms about the day beginning to melt away.

~~~

The day dragged on until lunch, made better by the balloon Derek carted around, which actually did help keep people away.

Derek was sitting at his usual spot with his friends when he hears a commotion from the other side of the cafeteria, and turned to see what was going on.

It seemed everyone turned to look, although he’s not sure if they can all hear. It was easy enough with his enhanced senses, though.

Derek could make out Stiles standing up on a table, looking down at a girl with strawberry blonde hair. The rest of the people at the table had faces ranging from shock to embarrassment, except for one guy who looked like he was fuming. Derek honestly didn’t know if that table was where Stiles usually sat, or if he had just decided to crash.

“Lydia, today, on the most romantic day of the year, I must make my feelings known. I know you are a goddess and I am a mere mortal, but my heart sings for you and I can no longer hide it. Reject your other suitors, for none see how brightly you shine like I do. Please accept this token of my affection, and be my Valentine.” Stiles opened up a thin box he had been holding to reveal a heart-shaped cookie cake.

Derek cringed in second-hand embarrassment, especially when he saw people giggling and filming the whole thing.

“I’ll think about it,” the girl responded in an airy voice. She was too far away that Derek couldn’t tell if she was being mocking or serious.

Stiles’ grin didn’t leave his face as he stepped down from the table. Derek saw him offer Lydia the cookie cake, but she held her hand up in rejection. Stiles shrugged and held the box closer, then grabbed his friend, who Derek recognized as his best friend Scott, by the shoulder and rushed out of the cafeteria.

Derek found himself fuming. At first, he thought it was at the way everyone was laughing at Stiles after he put himself out there, and the way the girl didn’t even appreciate what he had done. But he realized that wasn’t what it was, not really.

It was jealousy.

Derek had always cherished the tradition he had going on with Stiles (although he supposed it was mostly one-sided and it was secret), and it had made him feel special. Now he felt like it meant nothing. It was nothing more than Stiles feeling bad for the kid who once had a bad Valentine’s Day.

Derek abruptly shoved away from his table and stood up. He grumbled an excuse about having to be somewhere and stomped out of the cafeteria, annoyed he had to drag the balloon from Stiles with him. All he wanted was to pop the dumb balloon and shove it in a trash can, but knew he would regret it if he decided to do that in front of a cafeteria full of people.

As Derek stormed down the, thankfully empty, hallway, he heard a voice. He froze when he recognized that it was Stiles’ voice. He immediately hid himself against the wall, then rolled his eyes when he realized Stiles wasn’t even coming toward him, but seemed to be having a conversation in the hallway perpendicular to the one Derek was in. Derek knew there was no reason to, but he couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“I just don’t understand why you did that! You know Lydia would never go for you!” That was Scott’s voice, and Derek couldn’t help but feel offended on Stiles’ behalf.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Scott. I feel like the more pressing issue that you could have mentioned is the fact that I don’t even swing that way, which would have been a much less hurtful thing to say.”

Derek froze. Had he heard that correctly? He felt guilty realizing he had listened to Stiles out himself, but felt frozen in his spot.

Scott sighed explosively. “Okay, so then why did you do it?”

Stiles gave an equally dramatic sigh. “Because Lydia asked me to, duh. Besides the fact I’m too afraid of her to say no, she gave a compelling argument. She’s currently fighting with Jackson and wanted to piss him off and make him jealous, and you know I’m always down to piss Jackson off. Plus, she said she would get a cookie cake and let me keep it, which, as you can see, she did. Plus, it’s not like I have a reputation to uphold. This isn’t even the most embarrassing thing I’ve done this year.”

Scott laughed. “Oh yeah, you mean like wooing the same person for years but not even telling them it’s you? Or talking to them?”

Stiles hissed out a “shut up” in anger, but Derek tuned out the rest of the conversation, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

Scott must have been talking about all of the gifts Stiles had been giving to Derek. Which meant it did mean something, and that Stiles actually had feelings for Derek. Not for Lydia, who didn’t even appreciate Stiles.

Derek spent the rest of the day feeling like he was floating, proudly holding his balloon through the hallways. It wasn’t until the end of the day that Derek that the way he was reacting was a bit over the top unless…

Did Derek also have feelings for Stiles?

12th grade

Derek felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest, and he was certain he had already sweat through his shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous.

It was Valentine’s Day, his last one before he went to college. He knew if he didn’t do anything, it would be fine. Stiles would probably give him an anonymous gift like every year, and it would be a nice thing to reminisce about one day. It would be the same as always.

But Derek decided he couldn’t let things stay the same, and he was about to throw a wrench in Stiles’ plans.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had begun to develop feelings for Stiles, but he had realized in tenth grade after he heard about Stiles’ feelings that they were definitely there, and at this point they had become too deep to ignore. He wanted to be Stiles’ valentine but he wanted it to be for real this time, and the only way to make that happen was by telling him. And desperately hoping that he hadn’t completely misinterpreted everything.

Derek had arrived to school over half an hour early, parking right next to Stiles’ usual spot to make sure he didn’t miss him. He wanted to catch him in the parking lot, to hopefully stay out of the way of prying eyes.

It had seemed like a good idea, but now he was left stewing in his own anxiety, thinking about everything that could go wrong and wondering if he should back out now before it was too late. He even wondered if he shouldn’t have made his younger sister hitch a ride with someone else so that at the very least he would have company, but he knew she would only make him more stressed. Sisters were evil like that.

Fifteen minutes before school began and Stiles finally arrived.

It was now or never.

Derek got out of his car just as Stiles did, and called his name. Stiles jumped in shock and turned to face Derek. Derek caught a whiff of nerves off of him, but he didn’t run, so at least that was a good start.

“Can I talk to you real quick?”

Stiles looked surprised, but he nodded and approached Derek. “Uh, sure. Did you want to go inside, or…”

“No, we can talk out here. Actually, it’s better out here, because I have some stuff. In my car, I mean. So it’s easier if it’s here and I don’t have to carry it and we can just talk here now.” Derek realized none of what he was saying was making sense, and felt dread pool in his stomach when he saw the confusion growing on Stiles’ face. God, why was this so hard?

“I just wanted to say- uh- Happy Valentine’s Day. Well, that wasn’t all I wanted to say, but- One sec.” Derek ducked into the back of his car, glad he had an excuse to collect himself for a moment.

When he reemerged, it was with a box which he placed on top of his trunk. He was grateful to see that Stiles hadn’t fled.

Derek looked down at the box, avoiding eye contact with Stiles to the best of his ability, and began pulling out items one by one. “In second grade, you brought me a brownie, one that had heart-shaped sprinkles that your mother had baked. In third grade, it was an equally delicious cupcake.” He pulled out a brownie and cupcake (both store-bought and certainly not as good as Stiles’ mother’s baked goods, but baking was not his strong suit) and shoved both into Stiles’ hands, continuing on before Stiles could interrupt him. “In fourth grade, it was a folded heart, which I now realize was very impressive, since I’m about double the age you were when you made ones for the whole class and just this one took me about 20 tries.” He gave out a self-deprecating laugh, and once again handed the item to Stiles. “In fifth grade, it was a heart-shaped lollipop. In sixth, a box of chocolates. Seventh, conversation hearts.” He realized Stiles’ hands were too full to hold anything else, and began placing the items onto the trunk next to the box instead. “In eighth grade, it was a teddy bear. Freshman year, it was chocolate covered strawberries. Sophomore year, you gave me a heart-shaped balloon, which was actually quite useful.” He had to lean back into his car to grab the balloon, since it had been too big for the box. “Last year, it was roses. And all of it began in first grade, when you decided the nobody kid in the class with no friends deserved to have something nice, no matter what the teacher said, when you gave me the best cookie I have, to this day, ever had. You told me then, and for years to come, that I was your valentine. And as much as I loved that, I want something more. Will you be my real valentine? Will you be mine?” Finally, he pulled out a heart-shaped cookie, covered with pink icing and the words Be Mine written on top.

Derek finally looked up at Stiles, who had his mouth open in shock. He smelled like a myriad of emotions, and Derek was having difficulty getting a read on him. As the seconds passed, he began to get the sinking feeling he had royally fucked up.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles finally burst out, and barrelled on before Derek could even figure out what part he was reacting to. “You’ve ruined my ten-year plan! I have been secretly wooing you- or at least I thought it was secret- for years, and today was going to be the grand finale! I was going to confess that it was me all along and then I was going to offer you a kiss and if it was weird and you weren’t interested I had some chocolate kisses to give you so I could play it off all cool, but then if you were interested we were going to have a great, romantic first kiss. But you have out-romanced me in one fell swoop! How dare you!”

Derek stared back in shock. He felt.. actually he had no idea how he felt and wasn’t even sure what part of that he was supposed to react to first.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Stiles demanded, although Derek could see the smile hidden on his face.

“Uh… is a kiss still on the table?”

“Chocolate or real?”

“What do you think?”

Stiles pretended to think about it for a moment. “Well, after that grand romantic gesture, I would say a real kiss. But I do know you have a sweet tooth, so it’s hard to say for sure…”

“How about this? You kiss me now, and then after school we go on a date and finish that whole bag of kisses together. And all this store-bought shit I got you. Sound like a good compromise to you?”

Stiles smirked. “Sounds perfect, Valentine.”

After that, Derek helped Stiles put all of the gifts into his Jeep, and then they walked hand and hand to the school, not even caring they were probably late at this point.

Suddenly, a thought hit Derek, and he froze, causing Stiles to stumble and then turn to him with an expectant eyebrow raised.

“Wait, you said ten-year plan. Have you actually been wooing me this whole time?”

Stiles blushed, and it was the prettiest thing Derek had ever seen. “Well, not exactly. But after I gave you that cookie in first grade, I saw the way your eyes lit up, and when you smiled at me, well, my little 6-year-old heart knew you were going to be the only Valentine I’d ever need.”

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bonniebird · 4 years

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Halloween Event

Read early on Wattpad

Read early on AO3

“Great! The blood-sucking Brady Bunch!” - Jacob Black

“Do you have any other emergency werewolf contacts?” - Stiles Stilinski

“Every day is Halloween, isn’t it? For some of us.” - Jace Wayland

“During the day, I don’t believe in ghosts. At night, I’m a little more open -minded.” - Tate Langdon

@joeynihil and Peter Rumancek’s Halloween ~ Moodboard

“You don’t know much about magic.” - Nick Scratch

“When you turn to a bat, where do your clothes go?” - Spike

“And now it’s time to send in our cute little secret weapon.” - Ivar Ragnarsson

Halloween with Eric Coulter {Moodboard}

“She used to tell me that a full moon was when mysterious things happen and wishes come true.” - Ivar Ragnarsson

“What an excellent day for an exorcism.”- Peter Hale

“Blah blah, vampire emergency, blah” - Rebekah Mikaelson & Theo Raeken

“You are too precious for words, why I could just… eat you alive!” - Hvitserk Ragnarsson

“So is the devil, Halloween Santa?” - Lucifer Morningstar

“I’ve got the devil in me!” - Lucifer Morningstar

“I always wonder if it’s better to bury two bodies in one place or spread them around. I’m sure there’s a right answer, but I never want to meet the person who knows it.“ - Maze / Lucifer Morningstar

“What is this guy, Witch-ipedia?” - John Constantine

“You only have one super power, and it is your breasts.” - Elijah Mikaelson

“It’s Halloween; everyone’s entitled to one good scare.” - Eric Northman

“Stop calling it a haunted house. It’s not even scary.“ - Seeley Booth

“I know you’re joking, but on the off chance you aren’t, no.” - Victor Zsasz

“Every day is Halloween, isn’t it? For some of us.” - Eric Coulter

“Those guys at the impound. Did they really smash my car?” - Dean Winchester

“I’m the guy that’s gonna save your ass.” - Eric Coulter

Halloween with Theo Raeken moodboard - Theo Raeken

“You can’t commit crime on Halloween!” - Barbara Kean

“I do believe in killing the messenger. Know why? Because it sends a message.” - Mick Rory

“It’s so sweet. He looks just like a little entrée.” - Ripper!Stefan Salvatore

“During the day, I don’t believe in ghosts. At night, I’m a little more open-minded.” - Harley Quinn

“If this is a joke, I’ll kill you!” - Eric Coulter

“So, what can a teen wolf do?” - Cora Hale

“It’s Halloween; everyone’s entitled to one good scare.” - Aziraphale {Good Omens}

“The witches are coming.” - Bonnie Bennett

“I know that you hate Halloween, but stick with me, and I promise you, you will love it.” - Nick Scratch

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Madison Montgomery

“I am, what psychiatrists call, alpha male.” - Eric Coulter

“Aren’t you worried that, one day, all the forest animals are gonna band together and fight back?” - Jacob Black

“Bitch, I will eat you!” - Spike {BtVS}

“You know how I think Halloween is for jerks? Well, this Halloween, I was the jerk. I’m sorry about tonight.” - Leonard Snart

“You really are a witch.” - Jace Wayland

“I’m the guy that’s gonna save your ass.” - Jace Wayland

“I am, what psychiatrists call, alpha male.” - Klaus Mikaelson

“Vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires … How avant-garde!” - Klaus Mikaelson

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Stefan Salvatore

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - John Constantine

“Are you ready for some Halloween fun?“ - Eric Coulter

“She annoyed me, so I killed her and buried her in the yard.” - Eric Coulter

“I’m supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?” - Peter Hale

“Can someone kill him again, please?” - Kol Mikaelson

“I’ll be a good little witch.” - Theo Raeken

“I just think a lot of undead roaming the streets could lead to problems. For instance, farmers’ markets selling actual farmers.” - Theo Raeken

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Theo Raeken

“There’s a monster outside my room. Can I have a glass of water?” - Jasper Hale

“I am, what psychiatrists call, alpha male.” - Eric Coulter

“You really are a witch.” - Geralt of Rivia

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Eric Northman

“If this is a joke, I’ll kill you!” - Barbara Kean

"This is my costume. I’m a homicidal maniac. They look just like everyone else.” - Rosa Diaz

“Well, as someone at a high risk for a spook-related death, thank you.” - John Constantine

“Dear Diary, a chipmunk asked me my name today.” - Klaus Mikaelson

“I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ.“ - Gina Linetti

“You’re horrific and you are hired.“ - Jerome Valeska

“I am commanding. Calmly, but commanding. No more witchcraft.” - Maze Smith

“I am, what psychiatrists call, alpha male.” - Eric Coulter

“Have you picked out a costume yet?“ - Maze Smith

“Well, as someone at a high risk for a spook-related death, thank you.” - Harvey Bullock

“I’m just sitting here. Feeling like the devil.” - Damon Salvatore

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Eric Northman

“No, you weren’t part of this. Get back over to the loser side, loser.” - Winn Schott

“I need help carving these pumpkins.” - Temperance Brennan

“I’m the guy that’s gonna save your ass.” - Anakin Skywalker

“This is ridiculous! What could be scarier than one of us?” - John Shelby

“There’s no such thing!” - Elizabeth Swann

“I am, what psychiatrists call, alpha male.” - Gina Linetti

“Bitch, I will eat you!” - Victor Zsasz

“Okay, all right, now. Come on, no one died, alright? Look, there may have been some maiming, okay? A little mangling, but no death! That’s what I call an important distinction.” - Zelda Spellman

“She annoyed me, so I killed her and buried her in the yard.” - Barbara Kean

“Yeah, well, you being happy isn’t really a big priority of mine, since you stabbed me twenty times with knives.” - Victor Zsasz

“It’s kind of ironic. The more care you put into a murder, the harsher society judges you.” - Jerome Valeska

“No, it’s not! That’s just something mortals say to make themselves feel better.” - Lilith / Madam Satan

“Welcome to my nightmare, I think you’re going to like it.” - Jerome Valeska

“Stop calling it a haunted house. It’s not even scary.” - Ava Sharpe

“I died in a trapeze accident?” - Jake Peralta

“Okay, all right, now. Come on, no one died, alright? Look, there may have been some maiming, okay? A little mangling, but no death! That’s what I call an important distinction.” - Lucien Castle

“It’s Halloweek. I do the full seven days.” - Rosa Diaz

“If this is a joke, I’ll kill you!” - Jason Todd

“Vampires are real. They’re usually not the cape-wearing, "mwah-hah-hah-ing” types, but rather people with ordinary jobs who just happen to consume blood.“- Jasper Hale

“We came, we saw, we kicked its ass.” - Eric Coulter

“I always wonder if it’s better to bury two bodies in one place or spread them around. I’m sure there’s a right answer, but I never want to meet the person who knows it.“ - Elijah Mikaelson

Roman Godfrey Halloween ~ moodboard

@joeynihil and Sabrina Spellman Halloween ~ Moodboard

“Do you have any other emergency werewolf contacts?”- Derek Hale

“I need help carving these pumpkins.”- Derek Hale

“Those guys at the impound. Did they really smash my car?” - Dean Winchester

“We came, we saw, we kicked its ass.” - Rebekah Mikaelson & Theo Raeken

“I see something in your future. Something… frightening.“ - Bonnie Bennett

“There’s a monster outside my room. Can I have a glass of water?”

“Every day is Halloween, isn’t it? For some of us.” - Ripper!Stefan Salvatore

“No, it’s not! That’s just something mortals say to make themselves feel better.” - Jace Wayland

“This is ridiculous! What could be scarier than one of us?” - The Mikaelson Family

“If I have to hear doppelgänger one more time, I’m going to have to learn how to spell it.” - Elijah Mikaelson

“In this whole wide wicked world the only thing you have to be afraid of is me.” - Kol Mikaelson

“Clothes make a statement. Costumes tell a story.” - Gina Linetti

“You only have one super power, and it is your breasts.” - Rosa Diaz

"I have never met a vampire personally, but I don’t know what might happen tomorrow.” - Theo Raeken

“You seem to be doing so well without witchcraft.” - Nick Scratch

“I always wonder if it’s better to bury two bodies in one place or spread them around. I’m sure there’s a right answer, but I never want to meet the person who knows it.“ - Halfdan the Black

“You know how I think Halloween is for jerks? Well, this Halloween, I was the jerk. I’m sorry about tonight.” - Lydia Martin

“They’re embarrassed about their spells not working anymore.” - Malia Tate

“Blah blah, vampire emergency, blah” - Bella Swan

“Do you have any other emergency werewolf contacts?” - Peter Rumancek

“Can someone kill him again, please?” - Peter Hale

“I have a heart. I keep it in a jar on my desk.” - Katherine Pierce

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - John Constantine

"It’s the witching hour somewhere.” - Jughead Jones

“People think if they put on a costume they can just get away with anything they want. Halloween is Christmas for jerks.” - Ray Palmer

“Please tell me you did that for dramatic effect.” - Jacob Black

“Can someone kill him again, please?” - Emmett Cullen

“I must go in. The fog is rising.” - Arman the Dragon

“I knew something came through the portal.” - Ivar Ragnarsson

“Well, we can’t start killing people. We’re getting life back to normal. And killing people isn’t normal, sweetheart.“ - Nora Darhk

“Are you eating raw pumpkin with a spoon?” - Sweet Pea

“You know what they say about (Town). No one who dies here ever really dies.” - Jughead Jones

"I want to stab you to death, and then play around with your blood." - Sweet Pea

“I'll come to the party, but I'm not dressing up.” - Sweet Pea

“I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that any weirdo wearing a mask is never friendly.” - Sweet Pea

“Hand over the candy, old dude, or we egg your house.” - Sweet Pea & Jughead Jones

“Time for the real Halloween show to begin.” - Sweet Pea

“Should I be concerned about you causing me any trouble?“ - Sweet Pea

“Danger doesn’t lurk at every corner. It’s just hanging out, waiting for fear and horror to show up.” - Jughead Jones

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” - Sweet Pea

“Time for the real Halloween show to begin.” - Dorcas Night

“She used to tell me that a full moon was when mysterious things happen and wishes come true.” - Dorcas Night

“Who hired you? Who do you work for, the pizza man?” - Damon Salvatore

Halloween with Jughead Jones {Moodboard}

“Are you possessed? Again?” - Stiles Stilinski

“Does my costume look spooky to you?” - Sweet Pea

“I need help carving these pumpkins.“ - Tommy Shelby

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Theo Raeken and Rebekah Mikaelson

Halloween with Vanessa Ives {Moodboard}

Halloween with Samantha Stephens {Moodboard}

Halloween with Toni Topaz {Moodboard}

Halloween with Sweet Pea {Moodboard}

Halloween with Cheryl Blossom {Moodboard}

Halloween with Betty Cooper {Moodboard}

“During the day, I don’t believe in ghosts. At night, I’m a little more open-minded.” - Seely Booth

“Vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires … How avant-garde!” - Eric Northman

“I know that you hate Halloween, but stick with me, and I promise you, you will love it.” - Amaya Jiwe

“You seem to be doing so well without witchcraft.” Clary Fray & Allison Argent

“First rule of witch club: don’t talk about witch club.” - Madam Satan / Lilith

“Who hired you? Who do you work for, the pizza man?” - Zari Tomaz

“She used to tell me that a full moon was when mysterious things happen and wishes come true.” - Peter Rumancek

“Happy Halloween, asshole!“ - Rosa Diaz

“Hello, something scary happening!“ - Kyle Reese

“We sent (Y/N) to the Ghost World to save the day again.” - Allison Argent

“If she realizes that we’re killing people for food and not for God, she might not like us anymore.” - Vampire!Ivar Ragnarsson & Roman Godfrey

“We can have our own Halloween here.” - Roman Godfrey

“You are too precious for words, why I could just… eat you alive!” - Ivar Ragnarsson

“Have you come to sing pumpkin carols?” - Sweet Pea

“How was I to know? It was just floating by.“ - Sweet Pea

“It’s Halloween! Everyone gets a chance to be someone else, let their hair down for awhile.” - Sweet Pea

“You only have one super power, and it is your breasts.” - Elena Gilbert

“Yeah, well, you being happy isn’t really a big priority of mine, since you stabbed me twenty times with knives.” - Sweet Pea

Halloween with Marko {Moodboard}

“I know that you hate Halloween, but stick with me, and I promise you, you will love it.” - Sweet Pea

“I know that you hate Halloween, but stick with me, and I promise you, you will love it.” - David (The Lost Boys)

“I’m the guy that’s gonna save your ass.” - David (The Lost Boys)

“I’m supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?” - Sweet Pea

“Aren’t you worried that, one day, all the forest animals are gonna band together and fight back?” - Sam Emerson

“Good. No fangs yet. You’re doing fine. Your ears aren’t even pointed yet.” - Scott McCall

“You are too precious for words, why I could just… eat you alive!” - David (The Lost Boys)

“Yeah, well, you being happy isn’t really a big priority of mine, since you stabbed me twenty times with knives.” - Brett Talbot

“Are you possessed? Again?” - Peter Hale

“We don’t like you. Now, shut up and help us.” - Eric Northman

“What is this guy, Witch-ipedia?” - Eric Northman

“Shh, I’m Googling sex spells.” - Nick Scratch

“Vampires are real. They’re usually not the cape-wearing, "mwah-hah-hah-ing” types, but rather people with ordinary jobs who just happen to consume blood.“ - Dorcas Night

"This is my costume. I’m a homicidal maniac. They look just like everyone else.” - Tommy Shelby

“Hasn't anyone told you, second hand smoke kills.“ - Prudence Blackwood

“I know you’re joking, but on the off chance you aren’t, no.” - Klaus Mikaelson

“We sent (Y/N) to the Ghost World to save the day again.” - Theo Raeken & Rebekah Mikaelson

“Just because it's a love story doesn't mean it can't have a decapitation or two.” - Klaus Mikaelson

“You seem to be doing so well without witchcraft.” - Allison Argent & Nick Scratch

“You are too precious for words, why I could just… eat you alive!” - Damon Salvatore

#halloween2020 #bonniebird #halloween #masterlist #halloween 2020

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when-they-write-stuff · 3 years

Text

Well, you're a hot mess (and I'm falling for you)

Written for this moodboard and I totally forgot to finish this, but here we are now! Thank you @fanficmakesmehappy for the permission and amazing moodboard, I had a ton of fun writing this!

Stiles was so ready for his first college party.

After surviving werewolves, hunters, literal demons, and a multitude of other supernatural creatures hellbent on killing him and his friends, a party was nothing. He was ready to get drunk under neon lights and forget about his (not so) normal life, thank you very much.

But then Derek Hale showed up.

Stiles knew he’d never escape the supernatural. He didn’t want to, not really. After four long years of running around Beacon Hills from some threat or other, he figured that was just his life now. But he also deserved a break, okay? A break from multi-colored eyes, from fangs and sideburns, from anything that had to do with Derek literal Hale.

Derek Hale, the guy Stiles had been pining after for years. Derek Hale, who he was planning on finally forgetting with lots of drinking, dancing, and whatever else started with a ‘d’ and ended with him pretending the supernatural didn’t exist.

And that was supposed to start tonight; at his first college party.

Except Derek was such a stalker.

Stiles wondered if he was hallucinating at first. Sure, he got the occasional visit from one packmate or another. Sometimes they stole his clothes, sometimes they just curled around him and refused to leave until morning. But Derek only got in contact when he needed something. Research, a status update, questions about the bestiary.

And Stiles was supposed to be forgetting him, remember? Only, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that when Derek was standing across the room looking like literal sex on legs.

This really wasn’t fair. The man looked downright sinful underneath the neon lights and why the hell could he never wear jeans that actually fit? It was way too hot in the room for a leather jacket, but Derek was definitely wearing a v-neck underneath and Stiles might have a heart attack if he took any more layers off. In fact, he might have a heart attack anyway.

He had two options, Stiles figured, turning his back toward Derek and gripping his cup tighter. Go over there and chew the asshole out for obvious stalking, or pretend like this was a hallucination and get as drunk as possible. Because Stiles had a plan; drinking, dancing, forgetting.

And you know what? He was so sticking to the plan.

Like a godsend, that came in the form of a blond-haired guy slipping onto the stool at Stiles’s side, a smirk going up to sharp blue eyes.

“Hey, there.”

Stiles was quick to down the rest of his drink, wrinkling his nose at the taste of cheap beer. But anything to give him a bit of an edge on this conversation, right?

The guy smirked when Stiles turned toward him, offering out a hand. “I’m Chet.”

“Stiles.”

“... Stiles?”

“It’s a nickname,” Stiles said, grimacing. He got enough strange looks from his professors to know that he was going to be explaining this to everyone for the rest of his college career. That was one thing he wouldn’t miss about high school. At least there, people had learned to just not ask.

“Weird,” Chet said, looking a little more disinterested. Stiles laughed a little, glancing across the room involuntarily.

Derek was still staring at him. And now, the man was starting to look a little murderous.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said, wrenching his gaze away. He smiled at the other boy, nodding toward the open floor. “You dance?”

Chet studied him for a long moment, then smirked back. Stiles firmly avoided looking in Derek’s direction as the guy grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him off the stool toward the neon flashing lights, a strange pit already forming in his stomach.

It wasn’t excitement, exactly. Or… Stiles wasn’t sure. Maybe it was. Maybe it should be. He swallowed hard and let Chet pull him closer, suddenly wishing he had drunk a bit more.

Or maybe had something stronger.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Chet said, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “You do know that, right?”

Those words were enough to snap Stiles out of his thoughts. He looked at Chet in surprise, who tilted his head, eyes traveling all the way down Stiles’s body appreciatively.

“Guy like you shouldn’t be sitting at a party alone.”

“I don’t usually do this,” Stiles said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Chet tilted his head and Stiles flushed bright red, internally cursing himself. “Parties, dancing. Uh—”

“Well,” Chet said, cutting him off. “I guess I get the privilege of being your first, then.”

Despite everything, despite the intoxicating closeness of guy, Stiles felt his eyes drifting across the room again. Only to realize that Derek was gone. The place he’d been was empty, as if the werewolf had never been around in the first place.

“Hey,” Chet said, catching his chin and guiding his gaze back forward. “Stiles. Eyes on me.”

Stiles nearly pulled away. Because Derek— Derek— he hadn’t imagined the man, had he? That could be typical Stiles, though, he supposed. Getting out to his first party to forget about the fluffy asshole only to imagine he was seeing him everywhere.

“You,” Chet said, kissing him on the neck. “Are so fucking—” another brush of lips— “Hot.”

Drink, dancing, and forgetting. That was the point of tonight.

“My kind of fucking hot.”

“O-okay,” Stiles said, finally tugging away. He offered the guy his best apologetic smile, although he didn’t really feel it. “I’m sorry, man, really. But not tonight.”

Chet’s smile wavered. Stiles chuckled nervously, stepping back.

“I’m just, uh, tired. I should get going.”

“Oh, come on,” Chet said, catching the front of his shirt again. He pulled Stiles close enough that Stiles could feel warm breaths against his face, making him wince. “Stiles. Nobody likes a tease.”

“Okay, dude—”

But Stiles didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before there was a pair of lips crushing against his own. He squeaked in surprise and tried to yank back but before he even could, there was a loud roar and Chet was ripped away from him.

A loud crash filled the air as the guy went tumbling sideways into the punch table.

The sound of chattered died like someone had fired a gun. Stiles froze, his heart still thudding against his chest, and then he realized it was Derek standing in front of him. Fists clenched, shoulders squared— like a guard dog or something.

Derek Hale. Real and totally here, not just a pining part of Stiles’s stupid brain.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, slowly coming back to reality. The music still played and the lights still flashed, but people were definitely staring now. And when Derek looked over his shoulder, meeting Stiles’s gaze, there was definitely a bit of red in his eyes.

Oh, god.

Stiles laughed nervously, grabbing the man by the jacket and pulling him away from the overturned drinks table. Chet looked like he was in shock, white shirt doused with beer and punch, his face as pale as a sheet.

“O-kay, Sourwolf,” Stiles said, guiding Derek toward the frat house door. His heart was still thudding against his chest and he could feel every eye staring them down. “We’re just gonna go get some fresh air now, okay?”

Stiles managed to get him to the door, but before he could pull him out, Derek pulled away and gave Chet a full-on death glare. The guy whimpered, shying even further into the floor, and Stiles could’ve sworn there was a growl in Derek’s voice when he spoke.

“You ever so much as look in his direction again, I’ll rip your throat out.”

Chet’s eyes rounded and he averted his gaze. Stiles’s heart was in his throat as he pulled Derek out the door, into the fresh night air, and all but slammed the door of the now-silent party at his back.

They barely made it to the sidewalk before Derek was grabbing Stiles by the arms and searching him up and down.

“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles said, trying to wiggle free. “Stop it, Sourwolf, I’m fine!”

“I should have thrown him harder,” Derek growled. “Maybe out a window.”

“Woah, no,” Stiles said, raising his hands as he finally managed to pull free. “Manslaughter would definitely not be good for any of us, dude. Especially not you.”

Derek scowled, but some of the red was gone from his eyes, at least. Stiles searched him down, his brain still playing slow catch-up to everything that had just happened.

“Dude,” he said. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what.”

“What was— Derek! A simple knee to the nuts would have sufficed! You nearly wolfed out in front of everyone.”

Derek looked at him, face betraying nothing. Though, he didn’t look bothered by that fact. Stiles stared, then rubbed a hand over his face, groaning.

“Oh my god. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was in the area.”

Stiles lowered his hand, blinking at the man. “You were in the area?”

“Yes.”

“Derek, you’re never in the freaking area! Not without a text about some stupid thing that you need me to research, anyway. What the hell was that back there? How the hell did you know where I’d be anyway?”

Derek held his gaze, then growled, tearing it away. Stiles stared in shock as the man started down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets. He bit down on his tongue, cursed, and then chased after the werewolf.

“Derek, dude, stop!”

“I was nearby,” Derek said, spinning around. “And— and—”

“And what?”

“And Erica told me you were going to a party!”

Stiles blinked. Faintly, he remembered texting Erica a few outfits to get her professional opinion before he’d left his dorm, but he’d never expected the beta to report back on him. Even in the darkness, Derek’s face was bright red, and Stiles nodded carefully, trying to process that information.

“So?”

“So,” Derek said, glowering. “Clearly, it’s a good thing I was there.”

“Clearly— hey! That’s an asshole move.”

“The guy kissing you when you didn’t want it was an asshole move.”

Stiles swallowed hard, dropping his gaze. For a moment, the silence reigned, the cool air filtering around them, and Stiles shivered.

Then Derek sighed. Before Stiles could even react, the man was slipping off his jacket and wrapping it around his shoulders, easily avoiding Stiles’s surprised stare. The stare didn’t last long though, as Stiles took in the man’s freaking too tight v-neck, and dammit, that so wasn’t fair.

“Dude,” Stiles said, averting his gaze. “Really?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles just flushed, unconsciously pulling the jacket tighter around him.

“Nevermind.”

“Do you,” Derek said hesitantly. “Want to go back inside?”

Stiles looked at him in surprise again. The man didn’t look happy at all about the words that had come out of his mouth, but he just shrugged.

“I can leave, Stiles. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“Oh my god, Sourwolf,” Stiles said. “Please never apologize for threatening someone like Chet ever again.”

Derek scoffed slightly. Stiles grinned.

“Though, I thought the whole ‘rip your throat out’ thing was our thing.”

One eyebrow raised. Stiles blushed.

“Not like that. Er, you know. In like a sexy threatening Alpha werewolf kind of way.”

“Oh?”

“Shut up,” he said. “Stop smirking.”

“Okay,” Derek said, a hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. And why hadn’t Stiles seen him look like this before? “So, your first college party was a bust. But it’s usually not the only one, you know.”

Stiles blinked. “What?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“You… went to college.”

The man’s face did something strange. “Stiles, you do realize werewolves do things like that too, right?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I just…”

It was Derek. The words died on his tongue as he eyed the man, some strange emotion forming in his chest again. But this time, he thought it might actually be excitement. Or maybe nerves. Or maybe a mix of both.

“Hey, Derek,” he said carefully. “Take me out?’

The man’s eyes widened. And what had Stiles been telling himself earlier? Drinking, dancing, forgetting. But the last thing he’d expected was to see Derek Hale. All green eyes, too-tight jeans, and a v-neck that was literally the sexiest thing Stiles had somehow ever seen.

Derek Hale.

There was no way he was getting over him tonight.

“Take me somewhere,” Stiles said, heart thudding against his chest. Derek’s eyes sparked a little red.

“Okay.”

“So,” Stiles said, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk. When Derek had taken him to get streetside hot dogs of all things, Stiles had thought he was joking. But then there they were, sitting in the dark, eating street meat. “Tell me about your college.”

The man glanced over, mouth full. Stiles snorted.

“Where did you go, dude? What was your major? Why have I never heard about this before?”

“I don’t like to advertise my life,” Derek said, swallowing. “But I went to NYU. And got a degree in Engineering.”

Stiles’s blinked. Derek’s ears turned a little red.

“I like fixing cars.”

Stiles huffed, grinning out at the street. It looked like there was a bar or something across from them, music coming from the open door and bright lights dancing out onto the sidewalk.

“You should start your own business or something,” he said thoughtfully. “Fixing up cars.”

Derek snorted. Stiles grinned over at him, elbowing the man.

“Shut up, I’m being serious!”

“Hm.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, sticking the last of his food in his mouth and jumping up. Derek gave him a surprised look as Stiles hauled the man to his feet and started across the street. There was a loud honk and a cab barely swerved to avoid them, making Stiles bark out in laughter.

Derek gave him a slightly terrified, slightly confused look.

Stiles just grinned brighter, stumbling through the door of the lit up the building and pulling Derek with him. And, turning around, he realized it was more of a club than a bar.

Which was even better.

“Okay,” Stiles said, eyes sweeping over the crowded dance floor. “This is so much better than a college party.”

“Stiles—”

“Oh, come on, you big lump,” Stiles said, pulling the man along again. “We’re going dancing.”

Derek made a noise of protest, but Stiles barely heard him. Tugging him into the crowd, he nearly lost the man’s hand in the throng of people twice. The lights flashed, almost blinding, the smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air, and Stiles spun around on the middle of the dance floor to see Derek looking wide-eyed and red-faced, the color going all the way to his ears.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “You ever go dancing at NYU, Sourwolf?”

“Shut up.”

“Because,” Stiles said, stepping closer. “That’s what tonight was supposed to be all about.”

“Stiles, I don’t know if—”

“It’s a necessary college experience,” Stiles said, glancing up at the werewolf. “That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”

Derek’s eyes darted from Stiles’s own, to his lips, then back up. And for a moment, Stiles was almost nervous. Because what if he’d taken tonight one step too far? Oh god, what if he was pulling a Chet?

But then the man pulled Stiles forward by the folds of his jacket and slid closer to where he was obviously welcome. And Stiles smiled brightly at that— he couldn’t help it.

If he was going to drink and dance with anyone tonight, it was going to be Derek Hale.

Only Derek Hale.

“I want you to touch me,” Stiles said, guiding the man’s hands down to his hips. Derek’s eyes flashed red and he wrapped an arm around Stiles’s waist, pulling him even closer.

Stiles exe. almost logged off, but somehow, he still managed to keep his head. Raising his chin, Stiles searched the man’s face, teeth sinking down into his lower lip.

And fuck, if Derek wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Under the ever-changing lights, his eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors. Stiles didn’t often see the Alpha let down his guard, but Derek was open and gentle with his arms wrapped around Stiles’s waist now. And Stiles didn’t know such a tight grip could be so careful when the man held him close, forehead brushing against Stiles’s own.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes. The man’s breaths were soft and warm against his face. And it so, so different than earlier.

“Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles’s heart skipped a beat and he huffed a small laugh. “Language, Sourwolf.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He glanced back up, smirking softly. The man searched his face, eyes dropping a little lower again, and before Stiles could stop himself, he was meeting Derek halfway, pressing his lips against the werewolf’s own.

He’d had a few rules going into college. Stay on track. Don’t eat curly fries for dinner every night. And try to move on from Derek Hale.

This was so far from trying but Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to even care.

Because dammit, Derek had been what Stiles had missed the most. Derek had been the one Stiles had always hoped to see when there was a knock on his door. It was Derek, it had always been Derek. And maybe, maybe that was just how it was supposed to be.

Derek kissed him soft, open, and warm. Fingers brushed over the skin above the waistband of Stiles’s jeans, looping through the belt loops and pulling him even closer. And hell, this was better than the stuff of Stiles’s best fantasies. Teenage daydreams when he’d been sixteen and slowly coming to reality with his sexuality.

“Goddammit,” Stiles murmured against his lips. “Fuck, Derek.”

“Language.”

Stiles laughed and kissed him harder, stubble rubbing against his cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. It was so freaking hot in the club and Derek’s jacket wasn’t helping— except for it, for everything around him smelled like Derek.

Leather, pine, and aftershave.

Faintly, Stiles realized loved that smell. He loved the fit of Derek pressed up against him. The way the man felt kissing him.

Faintly, he realized he just might be in love with Derek Hale.

Stiles didn’t know what kind of song was playing when they drew apart, heart thudding against his chest. Glancing up, he was almost pleased to see the red in Derek’s eyes, the hunger on his face. Stiles grinned, tilting his head.

“So, Sourwolf. Maybe it is a good thing you showed up after all.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles laughed.

“And maybe, I might just need you to attend other parties at my side in the future. You know, because no one would ever cross a werewolf and what belongs to him.”

The man’s eyes sparked even brighter. Flashes of pure red in the neon lights. Stiles leaned forward and brushed his lips against the man’s again, just barely not making full contact.

“So, Alpha? What do ya say?”

Derek’s grip tightened, and all assumptions of ‘careful’ from earlier went down the drain. Stiles could help the way his heart leaped into his throat as Derek growled, nipping sharply at his lower lip. “Mine.”

“Yeah?”

Derek kissed him again, hard and hungry. Stiles closed his eyes again, drinking in the taste of the man, the feeling of the hands tight around his waist. And yeah, he could be that, he thought. Down the drain with with ‘careful’, down the drain with drinking, forgetting.

Down the drain with almost all things except for a few beginning with the letter ‘d’.

He thought Derek Hale might be a good start.

I had a slight idea where I wanted this to go and then it didn't go there at all XD But I'm alright with how it turned out!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider sending a coffee? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanficmakesmehappy #sterek au #teen wolf au #fluff #humor #derek hale x stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #sterek moodboard #prompts #ficlet

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ageofevermore · 4 years

Text

an update on how my oc's are getting along during this pandemic :)

Harry and Goldie: this man is absolutely loving the time he gets to spend with you and your little love! sure, now he's going out and about between the states and your flat back in london, but he absolutely adored the few uninterrupted months he got to spend with the both of you. goldie is just over two and a half years old when quarantine begins, so you and harry decide it's a good time to start potty training. she hates it at first, mostly because the sound of the toilet flushing is intimidating, but soon she learns that harry will sing over the loud sound. you almost rolled your eyes allowed the first time you watched your husband sing beside the toilet, clapping his hands and blowing into a blue harmonica between words.

the three of you also become a family of four, well five if were counting the goldfish named finn. you get pregnant just after march, and your finding out in a few days the gender...it's a little girl. even before you know though, harry has deemed your little one bowie. the baby inside of you loves grilled cheese and tomatoes, which you were never fond of, and is guaranteed to start moving around when music is played. the first time harry realized this, his head was in your lap and david bowie was playing on vinyl.

"did ya feel that, lovie?" he looked up with wide eyes and a glowing grin, "bunny likes himself some bowie."

"who said it's a boy harry?" you bit back, a smile on your lips.

"we already got a girl, it's only fair, love." he mumbled back before pressing his lips to the skin of your bare belly, not just popping but definitely not as tight as it was, "hi, bowie. ya gonna be my music partner? i think yeh big sister might have a fit."

but quarantine also came with struggles. goldie didn't understand why she couldn't bounce back and forth between your flat and anne's house, and she definitely didn't understand why you were no longer going to the pack every afternoon with a packed lunch and a plan to stop at the ice cream shop and collect a blue popsicle. she had thrown a fit at harry's feet for six days before moving along to the next obsession -- which happened to be styling harry's growing hair into a messy ponytail, or unicorn horn as she deemed through giggles.

Ellie McCall: ellie and liam are doing great! they've taken this time to just sit back and actually enjoy each others company. ellie's fresh out of college and beside stiles at the FBI, working as a medically trained field agent. her brothers best friend was less then happy when he realized that the younger girl was moving up in the program quicker then he could. ellie and liam are ready to start a family, though they don't look to be having any luck. when they do get pregnant though, ellie immediately worries that she's going to have to push a werewolf sized baby out of her. it takes seven calls to deaton and three voice mails to derek to assure her that the baby will be normal sized, and lacking in supernatural abilities until he's at least a toddler. oh yeah, it's a baby boy that is immediately named called brett dunbar.

though ellie and liam are enjoying the time home, it does bring ellie into a darker headspace. she dwells over allison and what her best friend might have been doing, and she can't help but think about boyd and erica. even matt crosses her mind a few times before she wiggles into bed besides liam and falls asleep with his heartbeat in her ear. liam isn't oblivious to her suffering, but it's apparent he doesn't know how to help. he sits were her sometimes when she's just staring out of the living room window, and makes her a cup of tea, because recently she's grown to hate the taste of coffee. he just lets her know that he's with her, and even though they're along in DC, she isn't actually alone.

Dylan O'Brien, Chloe O'Brien, and Maisie O'Brien: the trio is so good! dylan is so glad to finally be home with his girls for longer then a couple of broken up weeks. he can't remember the last time he was truly free to just be a dad and a husband. yes, chloe and dylan got married. it was a few weeks before the new year that they celebrated two months married. dylan's glad they waited so long, because the image of his daughter walking down the isle never fails to bring tears to his eyes. mae's just over four and a half, so she was in pre-school when everything started shutting down. she cried for weeks about missing her friends, clinging to dylan's torso for hours until she could be persuaded into walking on her own.

mae was a busybody, which meant keeping her home all day every day was hard. dylan was a personal jungle gym at this point, having bruises and cuts littering his arms and legs from how frequently he was used as a latter or slide. he wouldn't have it any other way though, loving that himself alone could entertain maisie for hours. what was hard about being home was finding alone time. the little one chloe and dylan shared loved to sneak into bed with them at two am, meaning that any passionate love making was rushed and done half dressed. it really wasn't passionate, but it quenched the thirst that would build after days of thick sexual tension.

every morning dylan would wake up after chloe and mae, coming down to plates of fresh fruit and pancakes. chloe didn't mind the big breakfast, giving her something to do other then stare at the wall or sing along to frozen for the umpteenth time that week. she had tried to get mae into something else after watching it seven times in a day, but the littler girl had crawled into her fathers laps with pleading eyes and a frown, sweetly asking if he could turn on anna and elsa when you were in the bathroom. it was no surprise that he cracked under the pressure, wanting nothing more then to be mae's best friend even when he knew a movie couldn't hurt her.

chloe's favorite thing about it all though had to be waking up in the middle of the night to cold sheets. she would leave the bedroom confused, having remembered falling alseep in dylan's arms, but in no time she would find her husband and daughter either in the kitchen eating ice cream, or cuddled up together in a toddler sized bed happily asleep. she would selfishly take a few more months of this isolation if it meant making more magical memories.

Emma James and Dylan Sprayberry: emma and dylan are great! they've started wedding planning, and have been using this time to finally finish moving into their house! emma was sad to let go of her first home with everly, but she comes to love their newly purchased home in SoCal even more. emma and ellery have been besties this entire time! it's not often that the two of them are apart, finding it a comfort to have some sort of daily routine that helps them stay mentally okay. emma is more then glad to have dylan by her side at home, but she needs more then her fiancé to keep a level head.

emma doesn't have any upcoming projects, instead taking the time to work on herself and her mom life. everly james is everything to her! the little beauty who looks just like her mother is just under two years old when this pandemic really cracks down on california, and it takes a toll on emma when they're forced to spend her second birthday with just dylan's sister and mother.

emma tries her hardest to keep in contact with holland and crystal, often having facetime calls scheduled. she misses seeing her friends faces every day, but knows that their reunion will be so much sweater once everything is safe and reopened.

Scotland Reilly and Dylan O'Brien: i haven't introduced scotland to this blog yet, but she's my little bean, and the irl oc for leila martin! anyways, scotland and dylan have been so good and really enjoyed being home together for longer then a few weeks or broken apart months! they're coming up on their seventh dating anniversary, and beginning to talk about what the next step might look like. they're been living together since season two of teen wolf, which was a year before they started dating, but neither one is completely sold on whether they want to go through with marriage. they have no doubt that the rest of their lives will be spent happily together and as one, but the idea of getting married never really stuck out to them!

scotland has an eating disorder that goes hand in hand with OCD that manifested after a childhood of travel between modeling jobs and bicoastal co-parenting. she's been strictly a vegan for almost nine years as a way to ensure that she's always healthy and so she doesn't feel to guilt about the foods she's eating, but recently she's started to introduce chicken (which dylan is absolutely thrilled about) fish, and a few dairy products. being home has given her the chance to actually feel comfortable with how far she's willing to push past her comfort zones and find new things out about herself. she's also overly plagued by baby fever!

she had her head on dylan's chest one afternoon, scrolling through moodboard on her pintrest account when the cutest pastel themed nursery caught her attention. they're in no way ready for a baby, but scotland can just imagine a tiny baby the two of them sharing her eyes and strawberry hair but every other quality being strictly dylan's. they both think a baby is the perfect next step, but in a few years time when hopefully the pandemic has calmed down and it's not so high risk.

the conversation goes like that:

"baby." scotland coos, looking up at dylan whose entire focus is on the old baseball game. he hummed in her general direction, his fingers brushing through her hair absentmindedly. "can we have a baby?"

he has to pause the game after that question, his whiskey eyes wide and caught off guard. scotland giggles at his reaction, pressing a kiss to the dip between his collarbone, "not right now, silly! but one day, can we?"

they'd never really talked about kids. dylan knew she wanted a few, having grown up with a large family, but they were both at the high of their career and never had time to imagine little hands and feet.

"one day." he promises gently, "i'd like that."

#none of this is proof read or edited #but i can't help but think about what they're all doing #if i missed anybody let me know!#goldie styles #dad!harry #dylan o'brien #dylan sprayberry #ellie mccall #emma james #scotland reilly #maisie o’brien #chloe o’brien #chloe daniels #harry styles

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

A Lone Wolf’s Howl ☾ Part 6

⇾ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⇾ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Action, Eventual Smut

↳ Werewolf AU

⇾ Words: 3.3k

⇾ Warnings: more angst & some fight scenes

⇾ Summary: Jungkook and you have been like two peas in a pod for the majority of your lives; whether it was going through the ups of downs of the horrid teenage change, to transitioning to the racing world of attempting to be adults. Simply put, you’ve been inseparable and glued to each other’s sides longer than you can remember. But one fateful day seems to completely change everything you had faith in and you begin to wonder if there was ever a time where you and your best friend even knew each other’s true colors.

⇾ Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

“You will cease to exist.”

A cascade of shivers travel down your spine, the foreign sensation arising from the prospect that they were merely being elicited by a single wolf’s stern words. It's almost like every move, every action, every breath you take was going to be monitored the longer you stayed here.

But what other choice did you have now?

You have to learn how to be a wolf, you have to learn how to control this strange new form you’ve taken upon yourself and you have to learn what it entitles you to be like now.

You weren’t just a mere human turned wolf.

You were a slayer turned wolf.

A combination that truly makes you wonder where you even belonged anymore.

“Y/N?”

Jungkook’s voice pulls you out from circling around Namjoon’s words and you glance up at him. He’s dressed in a loose white shirt and dark blue jeans, paused in the process of tying his shoe against a chair until his concerned gaze lands on you. Seated on the bed across from him, his eyes drift over to the fumbling of your hands and swinging of your feet. “Nervous?”

You stiffly nod, before he plants his foot back on the ground and walks over to your side. “It’s only the first day, so they’ll go easy on you.”

For the time being, the most concerning issue on your hands now is training. Jungkook had informed you that it was just going to start off basic – which consisted of primarily understanding what your current exact abilities were before you dived straight into using any acquired powers.

He gets up from the bed and gestures for you to after him as he heads towards the main hallway. As you walk behind him, your eyes drink up your surroundings and you’re still bewildered that a wolf pack would be living in such highly maintained quarters. From your prior knowledge, you were told that wolves would typically claim as many discarded territories as they could while they continued to expand, but you’ve met the entire pack and they’ve only ever stayed in this very place.

Jungkook turns to you, eyes buzzing with excitement that you recognize from times when he would be waiting to meet up with you to the times he had newly discovered a game that he wanted to share with you. “This is one part of the house you haven’t seen and it's my favourite place.”

His hands are planted against a large wooden door, intricate swirls of gold looping around it and golden shaped gems decorating the exterior. You don’t ever recall seeing the door and taking in your surroundings, this isn’t a path in the hall you’ve ever walked along either.

With a grunt, Jungkook pushes against the door and it opens slowly with a loud creak, greeting your widened eyes to the large expanse hidden behind its corners.

“Woah.” You take it all in, eyes moving along the broad fresh greenfield and bright sun lighting up the expanse of the blue sky. From a distance below it, you can see a group gathered and conversing with each other, recognizing some of the familiar hair colours as members from Jungkook’s pack.

He chuckles, watching you stand in awe as he shuts the door behind him. A mischievous smile suddenly works its way up to his lips, quickly glancing at you before he begins sprinting towards the group at an alarmingly fast speed.

You’re taken aback and Jungkook flips around, still running in the same direction, “Let’s see if you can catch up to me!”

Before you even have the chance to protest, he suddenly speeds up and your eyes are searching after him, only seeing a blur left in his wake. Taking a deep breath, you glance down at your hands for a moment and inspect them, before they ball up into fists and you propel your legs to move forward.

It’s insane; the way your legs have a boost of agility and practically glide against the grass, effortlessly making their way through. The wind whizzes past your ear, a burst of breezy waves leaving an icy chill on your bare skin and making your hair fly in the wind.

“That was fast.” You turn to your left to see Jungkook right next to you, grinning from ear to ear when he’s running at the same speed at you and you’re only left in awe that you were able to meet his tremendous speed.

His feet immediately come to a halt before his pack and you stop just short of him, eyes widening when running for so long at such a distance hasn’t left you nearly as breathless and exhausted as you typically were. Like he could read your exact thoughts, Jungkook smiles at your realization.

“It’s easier to run, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah…” You glance down at your legs, brows furrowing, “It is…”

Looking up, you notice an array of familiar faces before that you had met initially in the library alongside meeting Namjoon. However now, the members no longer have twisted expressions that are entangled with feelings of both resentment and curiosity.

Now they simply observe you, as if there were trying to comprehend what you were exactly.

“You don’t smell like a wolf.” One of them states, his jet-black hair sweeping over his calculating eyes and you instantly recognize him as the member that would stay close to Namjoon’s side, “You don’t look like a wolf. So how can we guarantee, that you are a wolf?”

He stops only centimetres away from you, eyes tensely penetrating every part of you with one mere glance and suddenly you’re brought back to the same feeling you faced when you met Namjoon. Although Namjoon is the Alpha of the pack, however, his aura always came off as stern yet warm, a more commanding presence that made itself known within the confines of the room.

But with this member, there’s no warmth, no commanding presence and no overflow of power. It’s simply borderline sinister, a presence that makes you hold onto your breath and clench your fists like you were bracing for impact.

Suddenly you’re being pushed away, shoved behind a familiar back, “She is a wolf Hyung, I saw her under the first full moon.”

You peer over Jungkook’s side slightly, seeing a smug smile across the man’s face before a hand is being placed on his shoulder, “We’re here to train her Yoongi, don’t forget that.” Stepping forward he gives you a friendly smile, “My name is Seokjin and this is Yoongi, we’re the Beta’s of this pack.”

You nod, moving past Jungkook to glance over at the other members. This was the first time you were actually getting a closer look at them now that you weren’t being interrogated in the library. Jungkook notices and ushers for them to introduce themselves just like Jin had done.

“I’m Taehyung!” The red-haired one speaks, a bright smile on his features and his hand gesturing over to the brown-haired man standing next to him, “This is Hoseok.”

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N.” Hoseok extends his hand for you to shake and shares a similar smile as Taehyung’s. Thankfully, you can accept the gesture without them being so keen on drawing facts out of you or psychoanalyzing your every move as the others have.

Jungkook moves to introduce the last member, a man with blue hair and crossed arms that has you frowning. “Jimin.”

He does a subtle nod before backing away from you and Jungkook, standing behind the rest of the members. You raise an eyebrow at that, almost swearing that you saw him send a glare in Jungkook’s direction, but Jungkook gestures for you stand in front of the pack with a stiff smile.

“If we’re going to start your training, I need to know how much you know about werewolves.”

“Aside from killing them.” Yoongi snarls, sending you a sharp glare.

“Like I've said before,” You begin, returning Yoongi’s glare with one of your own, “I’ve only ever had one hunt and that was the one where I ran into your pack.” You turn back to Jungkook, “I know the basics. Super strength and agility along with the ability to turn into a wolf.”

“So you know what we are and how we operate, but you don’t know how we fight.”

You nod, pursuing your lips, “Well I was told to be wary of getting bit…”

“Right.” Jungkook looks away, taking a deep breath as he glances at the still curious looks staring at you, “Do you guys mind if we take a break?”

“From what?” Jin questions, “She just got here.”

Jungkook opens his mouth but shuts it, attempting to formulate some words. Yoongi takes one glance at you and the many eyes seemingly glued to you, “Go. We’ll be here when you come back.”

You’re taken aback by his sudden understanding, but don’t retort anything when Jungkook drags you away and closer to the fields.

“Sorry if they’re being like that.” Jungkook sighs, slumping down onto the ground and you follow him, “You coming here was unexpected and now that you’re a wolf, it complicates a lot of things.”

“What’s so…” You stop yourself, wondering if even conjuring up such a question was a way of walking straight into treacherous territory. However, looking up – witnessing the broad fields, the wolves conversing with each other and the packhouse on the horizon of the cliff, makes you think that such a view is one you’ll have to get used to for the time being. “…great about being a wolf?”

Jungkook stares into the distance, plucking at some of the grass below him, “It has its ups and downs. The downs are usually just this.” He gestures to the giant field, ��Training, fighting, seeing others get injured or go down completely,” A long sigh escapes him and he tilts his head to the side, staring at the horizon with brighter eyes, “But this, them, it’s something else Y/N. It’s…it’s like a family.”

“The other wolves?”

Jungkook hums, glancing at his brothers who are only a short distance away, “I can’t see myself without them Y/N, so I guess to answer your question, what’s so great about being a wolf isn’t about being a wolf itself, it’s the feeling of belonging you face being one.”

Jungkook leans over to you, “That plus you get really cool powers.”

A small laugh stifles out from the base of your throat and Jungkook practically beams at the sound of it, wondering how much he’s missed hearing you simply just laugh. “What about you?”

“Hm?” You glance at him and there’s something dark brewing in his eyes, something that catches you a bit off guard.

“You kill us. You destroy this.” He looks back at his friends, shivers getting sent down his spine and stomach lurching at the simple thought of anyone of them disappearing, at your hands.

It’s bizarre – you had always viewed werewolves with a sense of disgust, resentment and utter hatred, but seeing Jungkook right now, longing look at his friends while having similar feelings towards you blooming inside him hits you in a different way.

You’re disgusted by what he is, but he’s disgusted by what you are.

Two odds against each other, opposite forces that have no way of meeting each other.

Beyond repair.

Jungkook grows silent and you succumb down into your thoughts, knowing you had drawn out a fine resolution of your reality but wondering why it felt so sickening to come across such a solution.

Such a solution that keeps you apart like this.

“Slayers.” You seem to be speaking involuntarily, words conjugating themselves on their own, “are meant to be doing their jobs, but they are still a clan in the end.”

Jungkook turns to you, silently staring when you yet again, attempt to convince yourself, “We’re just doing what needs to be done…”

“Can you still say that after becoming one of us? After being a wolf?” There’s hope dwelling in his eyes and the one question that had you being tugged back and forth shows up, “Would you ever consider joining us one day?”

Jungkook sends you a glance and something seems to spark inside of him, that in a way you were outrightly declaring what your fate was and what it was going to remain.

“Y/N!”

A voice snaps both of you out of it suddenly, brown locks rushing over to you and glancing at the gap between you two. “Yoongi said break time is over and that you guys should come back to training.”

“We’re not finis–“

“Tell him we’re coming.”

Astonishment crosses Jungkook’s features but then dips down into disappointment when you simply get up and follow Hoseok to the pack, not looking back once.

***

You plant your hands firmly on the top of your knees, heaving in a breath as the grip on the wooden sword strains on your hands, leaving aching bruises in its wake.

“Funny, I always thought slayers would be a lot stronger.”

Yoongi has an amused smile on his features when you look up to glare at him. He tosses his sword to the side, leaning against the wall with a refreshed smile as you’re still gasping for air.

His statement is completely wrong – slayers have been trained to go against wolves and their great strength, getting tasked with the ability to take such a mammoth creature down. However, something has stirred deep within you, almost feeling like a couple of swings from your sword had your arms feeling like lead and your legs feeling like they give out every second. You assume its because your body is almost conflicted; having the great strength a wolf would posses but battling out with the endurance of a slayer.

“Anyone want to go next?” Yoongi asks, gazing at the members behind him. Their expressions are all different – Jin seemingly observes you instead of watching the fight, Hoseok and Taehyung remain frozen from Yoongi’s stare and Jungkook has an unmoving frown on his face.

You instantly get up, lowering yourself in a defending stance and waiting for one of them to speak up. You notice Jungkook open his mouth like he was going to interject Yoongi but then another figure with blue hair decides to step up before he can.

“I will.” He takes the sword Yoongi had discarded and stands in front of you, causing you to raise an eyebrow but remaining in your stance.

Yoongi chuckles and suddenly Jimin is bolting straight for you. You raise your sword and defend yourself, preparing to be struck by a boulder.

However, that feeling never comes. Instead, he backs away and you aim for him, slashing your sword by twisting your wrist and coming into contact with his own. You continue to block his attacks and for a moment, you can’t quite follow, sensing that his fighting style seemed to differ from the norm.

But that’s when it hits you when he’s giving you space to hit him, when he not putting as much force into his arm like Yoongi was and how he’s losing stamina as you’re gaining more of it per second.

He was going easy on you.

Although you don’t particularly mind because you can actually keep up with him, you wonder why on earth he wouldn’t want to just finish off the fight and walk away as Yoongi had. It doesn’t make sense to you and it makes you even more confused when your eyes catch a glance at Jungkook.

It’s like he’s fuming; brows intensely scrunched up and arms clenching at the side of his arms. It startles you for a second, never quite seeing Jungkook pull such an expression before.

However your wandering eyes don’t assist you in your fight and soon there’s a sword being pointed against your throat, lined up perfectly to slice as Jimin stands behind you. You realize you can’t move, your own arms locked in such a way that you’ve become completely immobile.

You turn back, eye coming into contact with Jimin’s and you’re taken aback for a moment. It’s like a sudden wave washes over you for a split second, so similar to Namjoon’s Alpha presence. However, it’s more pleasant, and even though he’s at a point where he has an upper hand, the situation itself doesn’t seem to properly register in your mind.

Suddenly something flashes before your eyes, causing you to wince and then open your eyes to see the sword that was right at your throat now laying flat on the ground.

“This fight is over.”

You look up to see Jungkook standing in front of you, however, his eyes don’t meet yours at all and instead he seems to be looking behind you. Before you can even say anything, Jimin walks away and leaves the ground completely.

You turn to Jungkook, raising an eyebrow when he too seems to have a small of surprise before he;s quietly walking over to grab the sword on the ground. A slight cough draws your attention, Yoongi standing off to the sides.

He appears curious, watching you carefully when you were fighting against Jimin and a hint of interest has sparked within him. Hoseok is next to him, suddenly sprouting out a string of words.

“If you’re not comfortable with the idea or if it’s too much, then you can just say no or–“

“You are a slayer, right?” Yoongi cuts off Hoseok, stepping forward to meet eyes with you, “Then it’s possible you still retain some of your natural abilities. Perhaps…a demonstration would be useful.”

Yoongi smiles and it isn’t hard for you to decipher his puzzle.

He wants to see a slayer’s work right in front of his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you decide on not refusing. Truthfully, you have no clue on what happened to your abilities as a slayer – not having used them at all since you entered the wolf compound. This was the time for you to figure out what being a wolf and a slayer even meant, so you press the palms of your hands together and conjure up the yellow light.

It’s the exact same – you mutter out the same mantra and the light flashes, forming a glow within your hands until they move apart to propel out the entirety of your sword. The smooth texture of the hilt lands in your hands, flashing hot white before you patiently wait for it to subsidize into its crystal-clear colour.

Gold emerges.

It glows with an orange hue surrounding it and suddenly all eyes surrounding you are locked on it, gleaming at the sight. You raise your sword, feeling a buzz cascade through your arm and shooting up your hand, a surge of energy exploding within your skin.

Silver is the everlasting colour of slayers – meant to wreak havoc on all wolves as their weakness and to be presented in the colour of their ultimate defeat and demise.

Gold.

Your sword was gold.

“A hybrid.”

Your eyes flicker over to Yoongi, who simply watches only you and ignores the fascinated audience surrounding him. His voice falls into the space and shatters it like a piece of glass, causing your heart to viciously thump against your chest and your breath to get caught in your throat.

“You’re a hybrid – a cross between a wolf and a slayer.”

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years

Photo

BBB Week 8 Roundup!

Some amazing fills made this week, go forth and appreciate our creators!

Title: Flower Petals Collaborator: writing-what-writing Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - Hanahaki disease Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: very light angst Summary: Bucky’s been coughing up flowers and the only cure is if you love him back Word Count: 863

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Title: I’d Do It Again Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Queer Platonic Relationship Ship: Bucky/Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: mention of torture, mild violence and threat Summary: After he is kidnapped, Bucky rescues Bruce from a facility which is trying to separate him from the Hulk. Word Count: 1620

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Title: As the Spirits Guide Us Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Chapter 3 - K1: Poison Chapter 4 - K2: Dark Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Prehistoric, Running Away, Spirit Animals, totem spirits, Coming of Age, Sharing a Meal, Sex, Frottage Summary: The Clan of the Hydra value’s Bucky’s skill as a flintknapper but despises him for being a crippled outsider. The Clanchief, in particular, seems to enjoy watching Bucky suffer. Bucky dreams of escaping, of finding a home with a new Clan, one which will treat him kindly. A talented maker and only child of the Keeper of the Way, Tony has only to complete this last rite before he can fully assume his place as an adult of the Star Clan. On this journey, the spirit-talker assures him, the spirits will bring him to meet his destined mate. Tony is pretty sure the selection of his mate has less to do with the spirits than with the machinations of his mother and the clan chief. Little do either of them know what the spirits have in store. Word Count: 5713

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Title: A sketch in red Collaborator: Nivelle Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y4 - Seeing Red Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: art

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Title: A Night at the Nat - Chapter 4 Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - apology Ship: Bucky/Clint/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: werewolf & supernatural AU, minor injuries/blood, eventual smut Summary: The fancy restaurant isn’t the only reason Clint feels out of his depth. Even though his dinner companions are clearly devoted to one another, they keep flirting with him. Maybe accepting this invitation wasn’t such a good idea. Word Count: 4701

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Title: Fire in My Soul - Chapter 1 Collaborator: squadrickchestopher Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: graphic depictions of violence Summary: Natasha interrupts him. “So here’s what happened,” she says, letting her irritation bleed into her voice and her expression. Clint ducks his head even lower. “You two morons got the bright idea to get busy on a magic altar while wearing a magic amulet. Somehow, this triggered some kind of spell, and—I can’t believe this is an actual thing I’m about to say—it turned you both into little dragons.” Bucky stares at Clint, then looks down at his own claws. Then he looks back up at Nat. “What the fuck?” Word Count: 5442

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Title: Art Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y1 - nerd Bucky Ship: Bucky & Peter Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Bucky had always loved science fiction. He loved to get lost in the wonder of what was possible and consider how the future could be better. When he joined the Avengers, Peter soon learned of Bucky’s interest and immediately got him started on every major sci-fi franchise he had missed over the years. Star Wars ended up being his favourite and when Peter came in brandishing his new, fully functioning lightsaber Bucky couldn’t resist having a go with the weapon. That quickly lead to costumes and a fully fledged photo shoot to commemorate the occasion.

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Title: Red Carpet Rescue Mission Collaborator: darter_blue Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Rescue Mission Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: meet cute Summary: Bucky Barnes can totally do this, he can fumble his way through a red carpet event and not lose his brand new nationally televised lifestyle presenter gig... he just has to remember to ask questions about the premier and NOT composting (being that he is, in fact, a Gardener and not an entertainment reporter). And when he sees a fellow sufferer in need of saving from all the lights, cameras, and hubbub, of course he's going to sidle over and be a friendly face. Except the poor, unfashionable gentleman perhaps isn't a ring in like Bucky imagined, is perhaps more famous than he looks?Is perhaps actually a real life superhero? This is just fluff and more fluff of disaster Bucky and an always charmed Captain America... Word Count: 5328

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Title: Arboreal: Songbird protocol moodboard Collaborator: menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B4 - Sunrise/Sunset Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff, Bucky Barnes Needs A Hug, (Arm Maintenance), moodboard Summary: Moodboard for the fic Songbird Protocol by Arboreal. Fic summary: Tony apparently has a thing for musicians. It’s brand new information for him, but Bucky is irresistible.

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Title: we could take a chance, we could make it Collaborator: velvetjinx Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - partner in crime Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: historical AU Summary: Bucky likes to steal treasure. Steve likes to steal it back for its rightful owners. But when they have to team up to fight a common enemy and sparks fly, will either of them be willing to risk their hearts? Word Count: 5385

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Title: When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it) - Chapter 2 Collaborator: riotfalling Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: non-graphic injury and violence Summary: There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch. And one tiny little bed. (Now with chapter 2, because no bed sharing fic is truly complete until they’re home.) Word Count: 2.5k

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Title: Inspired By You Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - Invisibility Ship: Teen Rating: Bucky & Tony Major Tags: AU artist/muse, smutty inspiration Summary: It was very hard work being a muse. Especially when the person being inspired absolutely refuses to be around the source of that inspiration. Word Count: 1004

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Title: A Quiet Moment Collaborator: Caiti (Caitriona_3) Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Hair braiding Ship: Bucky/Clint/Darcy Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Polyamory Summary: Natasha and Bucky spend a quiet moment together. Word Count: 1561

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Title: Funerals Are Expensive. Get Well Soon. Collaborator: Ribbonsflying Link: AO3 Square Filled: C5 - Sharing Body Heat Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: funeral home, morticians Summary: “Is this the part where we turn from morticians into ghost hunters?” Sam asked as they flipped out the basement lights and locked the door back behind them. ”I sure hope not.” The men began their hustle back up toward the state rooms out front when they passed the cooler and heard the noise again. Steve and Sam both stopped in their tracks. “Is that-“ Steve turned on his heel and pointed toward the refrigerated room where people’s bodies were stored.“You know I ain’t ever been scared of dead people,” Sam answered, “...but if someone in that fridge is knocking, all you’re gonna see of my brown ass is a pinprick on the horizon as I get the hell away from here as fast as I can move.” === Did you know there's a woman who has a medical condition that has caused her to go to wake up in a morgue on three separate occasions? This is a story where Bucky has that same condition. Word Count: 7382

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Title: Beetles Collaborator: Justamanlymouse Link: AO3 Square Filled: U5 - Bucky/Steve Ship: Stucky, WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Howlie memories, Light angst, tw bugs Summary: Steve hears Morgan singing a lullaby that James used to sing to him and remembers the last time he heard it.“You know the wormy song? James sings it to me before bed.” He’s going to fucking vomit. “Oh yeah?” he manages. “Yeah.” she says, molding dirt very seriously with a little spade, “Said he used to sing it to you and it helped you go to sleep. You remember that?” Word Count: 721

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #weekly roundup #bbb weekly roundup #bbb week 8

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giveemhales · 4 years

Text

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 10/?

For @averystereksummer Day 6

AU where Stiles has a fear of storms

For the prompt: “How’s the weather?”

With a ficlet! Content warning for anxiety and panic attacks.

Stiles was afraid of storms.

Maybe that’s putting it wrong, because there’s a lot of things Stiles was afraid of that he could deal with. Really, he had a fear of storms, “astraphobia.” He hated it.

He wished he could say there was a reason. That his mother died on a stormy night or that the thunder reminds him of gun shots.

But there was no rhyme or reason. It was nothing more than a phobia, an anxiety disorder, an evolutionary flaw.

He’s always been good at hiding it, though. When he was younger, he hid it because he was made fun enough as is, he didn’t want to give any other material for his bullies to work with. Not even Scott ever figured it out. He could usually handle rain, but when there was thunder, he’d always make an excuses to go home, whether he was at school or on a sleepover. He’d usually say he was sick, and his mother was understanding enough that she’d be willing to take him home. She would build them a blanket fort and put on way too loud cartoons to help drown out the noise. Sometimes she would hold him closely, and remind him the thunder couldn’t hurt him, and that she would always protect him.

Then his mother died, and his fear got worse. It wasn’t just that storms were harder to handle without his mother, it was also the way his mental health had deteriorated after her death. His anxiety was significantly worse, and things that once scared him would now trigger full blown panic attacks.

His father got him a therapist to help him, but the therapist was mostly focused on his grief and how to handle his panic attacks. He had coping mechanisms now, but he still tried to avoid being out when there was a storm at all cost. Avoidance wasn’t necessarily healthy, but it was what worked for him. He continued to claim illness, and would curl up under the covers, blasting music through his earbuds.

He had even managed to hide this fear from the pack, which he’d say was pretty impressive considering most of the members could quite literally smell fear.

He religiously checked the weather every day, using multiple sources for the daily and weekly forecasts. If there was a forecast for a thunderstorm at any point, he’d make up plans (which was difficult when dealing with people who can hear when you’re lying, but he had perfected the art of half truths, always using something like “having homework” or “wanting to see his dad,” which were all technically true). So far, he’d only been outside in a thunder storm with the pack once, and they were fighting wendigos so they didn’t really question his scent of fear or him running off to his Jeep as soon as the creatures were declared dead. That was one of the few times in his life he had been unable to avoid being outside during a thunderstorm, and the resulting panic attack had been so bad he hadn’t been able to go to the school the next day (which was easy enough to get away with, since the rain had also resulted in a cold).

He’s not really sure why he spends so much time and energy hiding this fear like it’s a dirty secret. Maybe part of it was that he knew he couldn’t avoid thunderstorms, but he could try to avoid being around people during thunderstorms. It gave him something to focus on, a feeling of control.

Honestly though, he knew it was mostly his own insecurities. He was at a good place with the pack, and he doesn’t really think any of them would be malicious if they were to find out. But he knew that he was just human, that he was weaker than the rest of them, and he strived everyday to prove he could keep up. He couldn’t show any weaknesses because he couldn’t let them know he was weak.

So he had basically perfected the art of keeping his phobia hidden away from the rest of the world.

But one of the worst things about storms was that you don’t always know when they’re coming. And that’s what led to his current predicament.

He was in the car with Derek after they had met with a pack outside of town. The pack was new to the area and hoping to make an alliance. With Derek the alpha and Stiles the emissary, it was customary for the two of them to make negotiations.

The meeting had been fine. A simple agreement had been made and then Derek and Stiles made the hour long drive back to Beacon Hills, specifically to Derek’s loft where Stiles’ Jeep was waiting.

Derek had insisted that they drive together, and had refused to go in Stiles’ “death trap” (more like because he was a dick), so Stiles was now seated in the passenger side of the camaro. And that was fine, Stiles honestly enjoyed spending time with Derek. But it was about half an hour outside of Beacon Hills that he noticed the grey clouds.

Stiles had checked multiple weather sources that morning like he always did, and none of them had mentioned a chance of storms. A couple had mentioned a chance of rain that night, but it was still afternoon. There was no reason to expect a risk of storms.

But Stiles had obsessively studied storms enough to know what storm clouds looked like. And right now there were definitely storm clouds in the direction of Beacon Hills.

Fuck.

“How’s the weather? I mean, do you know? I feel like with your special werewolf senses you should be able to tell. You know, smell when a storm is coming. That would actually be pretty cool, it would make you a great meteorologist. Although meteorologists aren’t as bad as people make them seem. They actually have a 90% accuracy five days in advance. And on the actual day are usually within 2.5 degrees in their predictions. That’s pretty impressive. But obviously they don’t always get it right. Clearly, since they hadn’t said there would be rain today and-“

“Stiles!” Derek barked, cutting him off. “No, I can’t “sense” the weather. But from those clouds over there I’d say it’s probably going to rain.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Looks like it. That’s cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.”

Derek side-eyed him, but at this point he was used to Derek’s seemingly constant annoyance with him.

His leg began bouncing, as it usually did when he was nervous. Derek was clearly annoyed, but fortunately didn’t say anything.

A couple minutes later, the drizzle began, and Derek turned on the windshield wiper. Stiles looked down at his phone which had the directions. Still 20 minutes to go. He desperately hoped that they would get back before any thunder started, but it seemed unlikely.

Stiles leaned over and began fiddling with the radio. He eventually found a station playing heavy metal, and turned it up as loud as it would go, hoping it would be enough should there be any thunder.

Derek cursed and immediately shut off the radio. “What the fuck is your problem, did you forget about the werewolf hearing?” He grumbled, pawing at his ears with one hand still on the wheel.

“Just wanted some music, you’re so quiet, you know. Thought we could liven things up.”

Derek just growled in reply, which was pretty par for the course for him, so Stiles didn’t bother saying anything else.

Pretty soon, the rain started getting heavier, pouring down loudly on the windshield. Derek increased the speed of the windshield wiper, but seemed unbothered.

Stiles opened his mouth before closing it again. He honestly wanted to just explain to Derek why he was being so weird. Derek wasn’t the type to judge, and would probably even do what he could to be accommodating.

But at the same time, he couldn’t think of worse person to find out about his fear. Besides the fact that Derek was one of the strongest, bravest people he had ever met, Stiles had also been pining after him for years. He knew Derek had seen him as the hyperactive, token human, and even if Stiles now had a spark and Derek had accepted him as the pack’s emissary, Stiles didn’t want to risk revealing anything that might ruin their progress. He knew Derek would never feel the same about him as he did, and he was okay with that, but he was absolutely not okay with Derek ever viewing him as lesser. He wouldn’t, couldn’t be seen as weak.

So Stiles kept his mouth shut, and tried to just focus on anything other than the impending storm.

That worked out until the thunder came.

The first roll of thunder hit when they were about 10 minutes from the loft, and Stiles’ composure began to crumble.

He felt his heart beat quicken, his palms sweat, his breath become raggedy and stomach begin to cramp. These were standard symptoms for his anxiety, but not something he ever truly got used to.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but was interrupted by Derek.

“What’s wrong? Your heart is pounding and your breathing sounds weird,” Derek said, the concern clear in his voice. Stiles supposed that after all the terrifying shit he had been through, it would make sense that Derek wouldn’t make the connection between his fear and the thunder.

Stiles clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying to block everything out. “Nothing. I’m fine, dude,” he ground out.

He could practically hear Derek rolling his eyes, but for once he ignored the “dude” comment. “You’re clearly not fine, I can smell the anxiety rolling off you. If you’re in danger or if something’s wrong, I need to know.”

“I said I’m fine. Just drop it,” Stiles knew Derek would be able to hear the lie, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was focusing too much energy on trying to calm down to come up with a plausible lie for why he was acting the way he was.

“Please, Stiles, I just want to help you,” Derek’s voice was softer than Stiles had ever heard, and he hated the way it made his eyes tear up. He turned and rested his forehead on the window, trying to focus on the cool feeling.

Stiles was surprised Derek didn’t pry further, but instead grabbed his hand.

Stiles thought about the fact that his palms were sweaty and probably pretty gross, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It wasn’t even because he had been dreaming of holding Derek’s hand for years. It was because it helped ground him.

He tried to focus on touch so he could block out the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. He tried to think about the warmth of Derek’s hand, and his mother’s voice when she reminded him the storms couldn’t hurt him. He counted his breaths, and reminded himself they were only a few minutes away. And as soon as they were back, he could get in his Jeep, blast his music, and try to ignore the outside world.

They arrived to the loft, and Stiles vaulted out of the Camaro before it was even in park (although a small part of him was reluctant to let go of Derek’s hand).

He ran as fast as he could to the Jeep to try to avoid the worst of the storm. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to make it to the Jeep before he was being grabbed by Derek (honestly, fuck werewolf speed, that’s just not fair).

“Stiles, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t just let you leave if you’re in danger!”

One of the symptoms of anxiety that is less talked about is that heightened anxiety makes a person prone to emotional outbreaks. Maybe that’s why he lost it at that moment. Or maybe it had been building up for years, the anger and shame and fear finally boiling over. Or maybe he just wanted somebody to know, because he was so tired of being alone.

Whatever the reason was, Stiles finally let it all out.

“Oh my god, I’m not in danger. Nothing is going to happen to me and I logically know that but I can’t help it. I’m terrified of storms. Is that what you wanted me to say?” Stiles was yelling, even though he was sure Derek could hear him perfectly well, but he couldn’t stop. “I’m terrified of how loud the thunder is, how I can barely hear myself think over the noise. I’m terrified of lightning even though the likelihood of being struck is one in a million. I’m terrified that I can’t always prepare for storms and that I have no way to control the weather. And I know it’s a fucking stupid fear. And that’s why I’ve tried so hard to hide it. But I feel like I can’t breathe. And you probably don’t know what that’s like, you probably don’t have stupid fears and constant anxiety because you’re the bravest person I know. But you know now so please just drop it.”

Stiles was panting by the end of his rant. He wanted to turn around, to go to his car, just like he said he wanted, but the masochist in him needed to see how Derek was going to react.

“Do you really think I’ll judge you for that? You think I don’t feel afraid? I’m scared every day. I’m afraid I’m going to fail as an alpha. I’m afraid I’m going to lose everything again. Hell, I’m afraid every second I’m around you.”

“What? Why would you be afraid around me?” Stiles asked incredulously, fairly certain Derek was just making it up to make him feel better.

“Because I’m afraid I’m finally going to break and kiss you.”

Stiles isn’t sure what Derek saw in Stiles’ slack-jawed expression, but evidently it was an invitation, because the next thing Stiles knew, there were lips on his own.

Derek’s were wet from the rain, but still warm. The kiss was soft and tender, and everything Stiles had ever wanted.

Unfortunately, it was still storming, and Stiles jumped back just a moment later when there was a roar of thunder and crack of lightning.

Derek looked stricken, clearly drawing the wrong conclusion.

Stiles was quick to correct him. “As amazing as that kiss was, I can’t- I need to be alone right now.”

Derek looked relieved, and reached out to Stiles. “Do you- You’re welcome in the loft if you’d prefer.”

Stiles usually preferred to be alone during storms so no one could see his vulnerability, but the Jeep was also usually his last resort. The loft would be much quieter, so he nodded and took Derek’s hand.

Up in the loft, Derek grabbed Stiles a towel to dry himself since he was dripping everywhere. After he dried off, he went ahead and wrapped himself in a blanket and curled up on the couch. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? Noise helps.” He was still shaking, but felt himself calming down. Hopefully if he put on the TV, he could try to forget about the storm.

Derek nodded and then paused. “I can leave if you’d like but if it would help... Would you mind if I just held you?”

After years of keeping his fears private, Stiles’ instinct was to ask him to leave. But he remembered how he would feel when his mom would hold him during storms. He remembered how his fears had quietened when Derek had kissed him. He remembered all the reasons he fell in love with Derek, and how safe he made him feel.

He nodded.

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giveemhales · 4 years

Text

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 7/?

For @imagine-sterek’s Another Present Under the Tree (a Sterek Christmas in July Event)

First Christmas Together AU

For years, Derek had hated Christmas. As a child, the holiday season had been his favorite time of the year. He loved how family from far and wide would congregate together, the sounds of laughter when gifts were exchanged Christmas morning, the sweet and spicy smell of his mother’s gingerbread cookies, the warmth he felt when surrounded by his loved ones.

After the fire, the holidays were nothing more than a reminder of what he had lost. After Laura died, Christmas Day was spent all day in bed, under a pile of blankets, but never enough to bring that warmth the Holidays once brought. He never felt more alone.

Things didn’t really improve after he started making a pack, either. His betas were all high school students, so they all had their own families to celebrate the holidays with. Isaac didn’t have any family, but he stayed with the McCall’s, and Derek knew he wasn’t welcome there. Peter returned and got better, but Derek always had lingering resentment over what happened with Laura, and Peter felt that same resentment due to the fire, so any attempts at family activities were usually just painful. Cora came back, but Derek knew she was disappointed in him as an alpha. He wasn’t sure if she even saw him as family.

He was still alone.

That is, until a few years after he had returned to Beacon Hills. In the summer, he had started dating Stiles, after years of mutual pining and occasional hook ups. They had finally become official when Stiles had dropped out of FBI training, and declared that he was going to stay in Beacon Hills and protect his town as the pack emissary, should Derek accept. Derek was of course thrilled, and eager to take him in. After that, their relationship seemed inevitable, and things quickly fell into place.

Still, even if things were better and Derek felt less isolated, he didn’t expect the Holidays to be any better. After all, Stiles still had his dad, and the rest of the pack had their own families to celebrate with like always.

That’s why he was surprised when he arrived to the pack house on Christmas Eve after going on a run and found it full. He had been gone all morning, letting his wolf take over so he wouldn’t have to focus on his very human pain and loneliness.

But when he arrived back, he saw the house was not how he left it. The roof was now lined with Christmas lights and tinsel, and the front door was adorned with a wreath. His senses were also hit by a myriad of different sounds and scents. The house which had been barren hours ago was now filled with life.

As he entered the house, Stiles approached him wearing a Santa hat and with a steaming cup of hot chocolate which he promptly shoved into his hands, and then kissed him on the lips.

“I was worried you were never going to come back. Now go up to your room and change. I have a sweater laid out for you. I know you always complain about how you get too hot in sweaters because you’re a werewolf or whatever, but I got the rest of the pack to wear Christmas sweaters so you have no excuse. And get to it, the cookies are almost ready and I want to watch a Christmas movie before dinner. Assuming we can ever agree on one. When you’re dressed I need you to back come join the rest of the pack so you can back me up when I suggest Home Alone.”

Derek noticed Stiles was wearing a Christmas sweater of his own, one patterned with AT-AT walkers from Star Wars in place of traditional reindeer. He looked around the room and noticed the entirety of the pack was present, and they did in fact each have their own Christmas sweaters, of various degrees of fashionability. He also realized the house was decorated just as outside. Stiles had clearly been busy, and Derek hoped he had had help when he noticed the giant Christmas tree in the corner, easily 8 feet tall.

Derek walked to his room in a daze, not entirely sure what was going on. When he got to his room, he did in fact find a sweater laid out for him, one covered with wolves, one giant wolf in the center.

It was so on brand for Stiles that he laughed and snapped out of his daze. This was really happening.

Thinking about it, Derek realized that Stiles must have planned the whole thing and kept it a secret. Probably so that Derek wouldn’t get the chance to stress over anything. Derek was impressed that Stiles had somehow known that Derek would be gone all morning, but then realized that it was what he had done the last couple of years. He had once told Stiles how every Christmas Eve was spent running from the loneliness of his house and Christmas Day alone in bed to remind himself of what he had lost. He cringed a bit realizing that Stiles actually listened to all the depressing shit he shared in his vulnerable moments, but mostly was incredibly touched by the thoughtfulness of his boyfriend.

He returned to the living room after changing. The betas were all piled around the fire, arguing about which Christmas movie they should watch (or if they should even watch one or just enjoy each other’s company (Jackson quickly let Scott know how lame of a thing that was to say)).

Melissa and Noah were decorating cookies together in the kitchen, giggling like children in love. Peter was watching over the pack with a fond (yet somehow still smug) smile, just like he did when they used to have family holidays.

Derek couldn’t remember the last time he had felt less alone.

After a delicious dinner (which may have been better described as a feast), they had a gift exchange. They did White Elephant style so everyone would only need to provide one gift instead of a dozen. Stiles already had a gift prepared on Derek’s behalf in addition to his own, confirming his suspicion this whole night had been planned as a surprise.

Derek never wanted the night to end, but eventually Stiles kicked everyone out of the house, making them go back to their own homes.

Stiles and Derek went to bed together, and Derek wasn’t even that upset that he knew Stiles would be gone in the morning. Stiles always spent Christmas morning with his dad, and Derek knew nothing would change that tradition, especially not a 6 month relationship.

As Stiles was slowly about to drift off to sleep, he looked up from his position on Derek’s chest to blink tiredly at Derek, who was staring lovingly at his boyfriend and clearly wide awake.

“Sourwolf, you better go to sleep soon. We’re going to my dad’s in the morning and I want to get there plenty early so that I can make him a healthy breakfast. Who knows what kind of trouble he’ll get into if I’m not there to supervise the kitchen.”

Soon after, Derek and Stiles drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

For the first time in years, Derek spent Christmas focusing on what all he had gained instead of what he had lost, and he was pretty sure the warmth in his chest was there to stay.

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

A Lone Wolf’s Howl ☾ Part 5

⇾ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⇾ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Action, Eventual Smut

↳ Werewolf AU

⇾ Words: 2.8k

⇾ Warnings: graphic descriptions with werewolf transformations

⇾ Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

The full moon rises.

It’s slow and progressive, only emerging when the dreary dark clouds in the sky part from one another and the gleaming glow of the moon radiates down, peeping through the small cracks of your cell. It then pools in through the tiny opening situated above the bars, leaking large amounts of light into the room and it’s when everything snaps.

You don’t feel it right away – slumped in the corner as your eyelids flutter shut from the abundance of exhaustion, the constant spikes of boiling temperatures and throbbing headaches finally coming to a much tiring end. Being grateful for the chance to garner some amount of sleep, you underestimate the unknown of this supposed transformation of yours when your eyes suddenly crack open with a circle golden submerged in silver and soon the entire process gets turned up by a notch.

So similar to a calling, your eyes are blown up wide and you instantly try to lift yourself into a sitting position, but a trail of chills are sent down your spine and reaches to the tip of your toes. It’s then the brutal process begins to enfold and you’re twisting and turning in numerous ways. The skin on your hands and feet stretches, drawing up water in your eyes when the cracks of bone snapping all through your body is heard. Your fingers shoot up, rapidly elongating with sharp talons and you can feel your teeth practically push furiously against the confines of your mouth.

A loud cry rips from your throat, but it doesn’t sound humane in the least. Tears are constantly staining the surface of the cement floor, darkening it as you can’t contain the rapturous silent gasps leaving you by the second.

You don’t hear the metal door swing wide open and slam against the wall, you don’t notice the firm yank of metal bars being pulled back, and you don’t notice the rough patches of brown fur that hurriedly encircle you, golden eyes trained on the glimmering moonlight shining on you.

It takes every once of restraint in you to keep holding on when more of your skin abnormally stretches and bones continue to crack, but the jolt in you arises when the silver hair starts to blemish over your skin in horrendous spikes. More tears well up in your eyes and you squeeze them shut.

It’s disgusting.

This thing that you’re turning into, it’s disgusting.

The revolting wave on you is hard to shake off and when the base of your spine suddenly cracks, your eyes can only widen at the pressure being placed on top of it, the pain substantially less than before.

Before you can even react, golden eyes are watching you from afar, seemingly familiar yet distant. You’re brought back to the moment you were attacked during the night raid, caramel brown whizzing past you before you had plunged into darkness. It’s the same brown fur from that night, you are sure of it, however the relief isn’t brought upon from that recognition – it’s brought upon from how you’ve seen those same golden eyes in their human form before.

As if it was a signal for you to simply let go so that you could be caught, you shut your eyes tight and try not to scream out in pain when more pressure is applied on you from all corners. It does send a cascade of sends electrifying pain all over your body, but the pressure keeps everything from falling apart and rapidly morphing into a more prolonged pace.

It still hurts in the same way, but it’s more bearable to have it hit you in a subdued way. However, that’s when the worst of the waves washes over you, a sudden sound of skin tearing has you clench your teeth and drops of blood scattering all over the ground. It channels a large volume of cracks and stretching to follow, all having pressure applied to them.

You could have sworn for a moment you heard the caramel brown wolf whimper, but it’s replaced with a distant grunt when it pushes closer against you, prepared for the whiplash of bone swinging off and reconstructing right against its fur.

After a final moment of viscous ripping, the skin begins to heal with a faster coating of silver fur spreading on top and new bones starting to fuse underneath. Your hands have fully formed – long talons with sharp nails on top, as well as new ears and a tail being added too.

You know the process is complete when the pressure is removed, no longer trails of pain spiking all over your body and your form considerably shifted from your original humanized counterpart. With tired full golden eyes, you raise your muzzle towards the other wolf, sensing him from a distance. Sitting up on your front legs, your silver fur is tainted with blotches of split blood and the cuffs constraining you have been shed onto the ground.

A wave of vertigo suddenly hits you, causing your paws to mismatch their steps when you try to move forward and you instantly spiral down.

***

“Y/N.”

Your bright orbs turn to view two pairs of warm eyes gazing at you and you eagerly run over to them, giggling when one of them crouches down to pick you up and spin you around. Panning out, a small living room comes into view and a roaring fire is in the background, lighting up the room with an atmosphere so similar to the one it was flourishing.

Its warm. Safe. Comforting.

Irreplaceable.

Suddenly the entire scene shifts, the fire exploding out and engulfing the entire room. Instead of a soft warmth, its grueling only seems to burn you from inside out and suddenly two corpses are landing right in front of your small eyes.

They scatter around, tears welling up in your eyes when your blood coated hands can’t do anything, only left to watch the horror unmask before you.

A voice calls out for you.

“Y/N!”

You turn, searching around frantically for where they are, if they can help you understand why there was so much blood, why the two people you loved dearest weren’t responding no matter how many times you called out.

“Y/N!”

“W-Where?” You keep searching, your shaky hands lifting to your forehand when all you can see is fire.

“Y/N!” You instantly whip around, hearing the sound come from behind you. Willing yourself to stand up, you cautiously walk forward, not wanting to put too much distance between you and the two people behind you.

“I-I can hear you!” You yell out, hurriedly walking when the voice grows louder and instantly relief washes over you, “I can–“

A low growl emits.

You instantly freeze, cowering back when you hear a whole array of growls, all of their voices combining and growing louder and louder in volume.

“N-No…” You whisper, turning around and running as fast as you can, not being able to get past their incredible speed when they catch up to you. “NO!”

“Y/N!”

A loud gasp unleashes from the base of your throat, violently thrashing at strong arms that grasp onto your shoulders. Streams of water and sweat trickle down your closed eyes and you resist the hold as much as you can, “Come on Y/N, please wake up.”

His voice slowly draws you out, making you wince and turn away when your shoulders are being shook.

It’s on the brink of pure desperation, making you physically lift the blurry mirage pulling you back into forgotten dreams. Slowly cracking your eyes open, you’re greeted to a dark bedroom, all lights turned off save for one small dim one lit in the corner, but its enough to cast a reflection onto the face hovering inches over you.

“Jung…kook…?” Your voice croaks out, feeling like you hadn’t used it in ages up until now and his shoulders immediately sag down with a light exhale. Your eyes are more open now, looking around the room to discover it wasn’t the same bricked wall and metallic bars you had been seeing every day you had been here and the sudden change brings you to alert. “Where–“ You instantly wince, a cascade of soreness running down the entirety of your body.

“Don’t try to move much.” He leans back, reaching over to the table next to the bed and pouring you a glass of water. He hands it to you, sitting at the side of the bed as you slowly get up, eyes down casted. “The full moon happened.”

He quietly mutters it, as if using the words ‘transformed’ and ‘werewolf’ were too much in the moment and the only plausible way to bring it up was that.

“The full moon…” Your eyes drift away from the glass of water you’re holding and towards the hand that’s clinging onto it, recalling how disfigured it appeared with ripped skin and patches of blood the last time you had seen it. Like an immediate reaction, Jungkook reaches out and presses his hands against yours.

You wonder if there’s a swell of pride, a sense of satisfaction that you’re now tied to this very place by officially becoming what he is, but his eyes are completely void of any of that. Instead there’s a faint sense of regret still dwelling in them, as well as a drop of concern that throws you a bit off guard.

You’re not sure where you stand anymore. Here you were, directly inside an enemy base and having the sole moral planted in your mind that this was a place you were meant to get rid of. Exterminate, vanish, any word that could describe what would become of this place after your slayer hands got onto it. However now there’s almost a sense of relished security, one you truly haven’t felt for an incredibly long amount of time.

Your mind wanders to the dream and you shut your eyes, simply shaking it off despite the trail of goosebumps running down your spine.

After all, A certain person next to you is also plagues your thoughts, making you also ponder if this new profound sense of security was truly coming from just transforming.

“Brown.” Your furrow your brows, attempting to pull yourself out of your crossing thoughts. Jungkook perks up at the sound of your voice and with a sigh you turn to him, “When I was transforming, I saw a brown wolf.”

At the mention at that, Jungkook sheepishly looks down, twirling his thumbs. “Why did you come?”

He immediately looks up tense, “Why wouldn’t I, the full moon was out and then I heard yo–“ He shuts his lips, scrunching his nose as the thought itself was bringing him horrible memories already, “I heard you scream…”

Silence encases itself around you for a brief moment, before Jungkook lets out a small chuckle, “You trusted me.”

There it is again – the same feeling he arises in you when you want to forget everything’s that happening to you, making you want to relieve a time where everything wasn’t spiraling down. And you know exactly what his words are trying to insinuate.

You trusted him just like you had always trusted your best friend.

It’s not the response he was searching for, but you can’t help not to agree, “I guess I did…”

The silence dips in again and Jungkook gets up with a sigh, gesturing his hand out. “Come on.”

“To where?” You attempt to get up yourself but wince again at how heavy your entire body felt. Jungkook notices right away and reaches for your hand directly, lifting you with ease and wrapping your arm carefully around his neck.

He smiles, “It’s time for you to meet the others.”

***

You have been placed in a very, very daunting position.

Heading to the library was as if you were entering a maze, a spiral of hallways branching off to multiple rooms with different symbols and colours painted onto them. It was your first time seeing the quarters of a wolf pack, the entire infrastructure seemingly like it was more ancient and authentic than the wide fields and small homes your fellow slayers had occupied. It was truly fascinating to see but unfortunately your body still hadn’t adjusted and coped with the remains of your transformation, occasionally flinching in pain and having to shift your weight onto Jungkook so you could limp over, but he luckily doesn’t seem to mind in the least.

By the time he dragged you completely over to the library, you were softly placed onto a comfy brown couch in front of many pairs of golden eyes. Majority of them carefully watch you and Jungkook enters the room and sits down, while others are glowing with curiosity and intrigued.

An array of hair colours is also distributed among them and your eyes trace over every single one. You encounter a mop of black hair and stern eyes, seemingly glaring at you with crossed arms and unwelcoming eyes. You stray over to the pink haired man, broad shoulders hunched as he shares a similar glance, but his eyes were filled with more interest instead. A flash of red and blonde come together, wide eyes and mouths completely gapping at you. Your eyes finally land on the final individual, brows furrowing at the blueish silver in his hair and especially how unlike the others, he wasn’t facing to look at you.

The room takes up an extremely awkward silence, making your deep breathes sound abnormally loud and the racing of your heart speeding up with the tick of time. It’s until a certain person finally clears their throat that you want to sigh in relief, taking calculative steps before you as he places his hands behind his back.

“Y/N, right?” His timbre voice is deep, but the question comes off in a very friendlier manner. However the moment he gets closer to you, an odd wave suddenly overtakes you and you feel overwhelmed – the same frantic symptoms from the silence starting up again like you were going to fall off the edge of your seat. With a simple nod from you he smiles, golden eyes drawing you in, “My name is Namjoon and I’m the Alpha of this pack. I assume you know of us, correct?”

That particular question makes you falter, “I-I do now…”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow and you can see Jungkook, who is sitting on your right, look at you in surprise, “Slayers have been aware of our pack for centuries, especially the Crimson Clan. Did you not know of us until the attack?”

You take a shaky exhale and almost like Namjoon knows, he backs away a bit and sinks into his chair, giving you enough room. You appreciate it, especially when the sudden need to escape the room had considerably diminished, “I’ve been told about your clan but the recent attack…that was my first one.”

Your answer seems to catch Namjoon off guard, as he pursues his lips and flashes his eyes over to another member – the one with black hair and sharp eyes – before glancing back at you, “I see…” He coughs, clearing his throat, “Well now that you’ve fully transformed, there’s no need to keep you locked in a cell. However, that brings me to another topic at hand…”

Namjoon doesn’t speak right away, instead he carefully scans the expressions of the wolves around him, like he was looking for the perfect spot to view them, “You will be trained by us.”

Immediately a cascade of morphing expressions is displayed along the room, Namjoon’s eyes drinking every single bit of it before he finally looks back towards to you. He briefly smiles, noticing your confused look right away, “You’re a wolf now, and that entitles that you should be properly trained to understand your new abilities.”

You nod, glancing over at Jungkook who seems content with the idea. After all you would be integrated into being a wolf by the members themselves, so it wasn’t like this whole process was going to be drastically foreign and bizarre for you to adapt to.

“But.”

Namjoon’s voice sucks all the energy in the room away, wide eyes all over staring at him. His eyes suddenly turn cold, gold radiating out from the irises and they latch onto you, running a shiver down your spine. “If you even think about doing something to us, this pack, while we train you…”

The next words makes your throat go dry, sucking in a harsh breath.

“You will cease to exist.”

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

A Lone Wolf’s Howl ☾ Part 7

⇾ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⇾ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Action, Eventual Smut

↳ Werewolf AU

⇾ Words: 5.2k

⇾ Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood and violence

⇾ Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Night settles into the bedroom, your eyes tracing over the large window and seeing drops of water splatter occasionally against the fine glass. Thoughts are racing in your mind, pulling and tugging you forward and backward, sparking even the notion that perhaps if you hadn’t fallen into these string of events, perhaps if you had been more careful during the first night of your hunt – you wouldn’t be here at all.

Would you ever consider joining us one day?

Joining. Uniting. Crossing that fine line and standing in front of your sister's faces with a morphed form, the pure look of betrayal being plastered onto their features before contorting into utter resentment. Shunning out who you are, what you’ve always been until this point because of a careless mistake.

Joining the one thing you know would cast away everything you had ever known.

But what you can’t cast away, is the reality of it all.

Rolling over to your side, your eyes drift over and then lock onto your hands, recalling how they would once emit bright protective bursts and conjugate steel for battle.

Now they’re capable of transforming into a four-legged creature, the very creature that you’ve learned to eradicate.

You sit upright in the bed with a sigh, sheets ruffled around you as you press a hand against the side of your temple.

You’re a hybrid – a cross between a wolf and a slayer.

Does that mean you’re still a slayer?

Or a wolf?

Where do your loyalties even fall now?

Letting out a low exhale, you glance back at the night sky and the moon has risen in the middle, the same moon casting a light hue on your eyes.

The moon glows orange.

It happens within a split second, causing you to blink your eyes and hurriedly rub at them to draw out some of the sleep. Glancing up again, the moon is still covered in its yellowish hue but after a moment, it sparks orange again.

Planting your feet onto the ground, you take the blinds and push them back, unveiling a better view. A collection of them follows, more and more orange sparking into the sky right before the moon. Walking closer, the distinctive pattern they layout feels incredibly familiar to you when the palm of your hand lays flat against the glass.

A sudden loud thud jolts you out of your thoughts, your daze snapping within an instant as you whip around with a sharp gasp. A heavy hand is placed over your heart however your shoulders sink back down when Jungkook appears at your door, concerned filled eyes latching onto you.

“Are you okay?” He takes rushed steps towards you, hands instantly wrapping around your arms and evoking a flinch from you at the sudden forwardness. Ignoring his actions, his words confuse you and you simply nod in which a sigh of relief escapes him.

“There’s been an attack…” His eyes dart away, drawing astray, “By Crimson.”

You blink, wondering to yourself if you had heard him correctly. Jungkook’s hands drop from your arms and his head lowers down, causing you to take a step back. Spinning around, your wide eyes frantically trace over every single orange flash – taking in everything you possibly could, “C-Crimson…?”

Your eyes land onto the faded imprint on the window, marked by your own hand, “I have to go.”

Fear enters your eyes when Jungkook sounds like he’s made up his mind, being firm with his answer. He doesn’t expect anything, not even mere surprise or dwelling fear from you since you had clearly stated what your future intentions were going to be. However, it catches him off guard when you turn him with those very same expressions contorted on your features.

He looks away again, “To fight.”

“You… and the other wolves?” He nods but containing the small smile that surfaces on him isn’t something he can accomplish.

“My family needs me.”

You merely stare at him for a moment, frozen until suddenly arms are wrapping around you. You flinch – not imagining Jungkook would step forward just to hug you, but when he separates from you, it’s written all over his face.

Goodbye.

For now.

The door closes with a thud and all your eyes can do is watch his form fade before him, constantly wondering inside your mind as to why seeing him leave, seeing him leaving to fight the people you’ve chosen to stand by until the end of time felt like a nail was slowly driving into you.

Orange continues to burst through the window, the glass reflecting the colour onto your uneasy hands.

***

The wood creaks when it comes into contact with your foot, the wind outside seeping in through the walls like hushed echoes. It’s not until you make your way all the way down the various steps when you hear the loud boom, almost like a massive explosion had just gone off when you immediately jolt. The sound is accompanied by a string of thuds and grunts, all coming out hovered from the thin interior of the walls.

Attempting to get a closer view as to what was going on, the small window above the door flashes a brighter orange. The sounds only intensify, a mixture of snarls and howls hitting against shines of bronze.

You spot a blue wolf, working its way around the dirt before launching itself in front of a dark grey wolf and towards a black-clothed fighter who seems to be pouring all of her energy on fighting the grey wolf. The blue wolf is simply tossed to the side, evoking a flinch out of you when its form hits hard against the dirt and rolling over with a whine as the grey wolf is left defenceless once again.

It spells out something very clearly for you – a continuous trend.

Every time a howl is let out, it’s quickly silenced with a firm hit.

Your field of vision distorts, attempting to direct your sight to somewhere else, but that’s when it lands on the sheer amount of red scattered across the floor and the accompanied bodies following it. They still move, but many of them have scarlet spilling out various parts – arms, legs, torso’s as they desperately crawl towards the mayhem you were just observing a couple of seconds ago.

A hand raises over your mouth, concealing the unruly stench and hushing down the harsh breaths that are threatening to escape you. The scene itself is one that you have faced before, standing by your sisters and sharing a very common goal in mind – but viewing the same scene from the outskirts, viewing the same treacherous field with fresh eyes instead of engaged ones, has an unsettling feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach.

A loud cry breaks you out of your thoughts, whipping around to see another door come slamming open and a blood-covered, exhausted Namjoon drag himself into the premises. His eyes are frantic, darting everywhere as he huffs in bringing the body on his side into the room.

“Hoseok! I need you in here!” Your eyes widen when Namjoon’s tone comes out as scorched and hoarse, surprise arising at never hearing him speak in such a way. His searching eyes eventually land on you and you suck in a breath at the feral gold glowing inside his eyes. He places the body carefully down and takes long strides towards you, heavy steps coming in your direction.

You wonder what you should say, what would even deem to be correct to say in such a situation, but before you even have the chance to muster up a string of words, Namjoon simply passes by you. Your heart sinks, already being able to feel every single drop of hostility radiating off of his form as he reaches to open the door you were peeking through.

A person comes dashing in, tangled brown locks covered with clumps of dried blood and trails of sweat running down his face. He heaves in a breath, eyes exchanging a silent look with his Alpha who nods and then turns to return to the field.

The door closes and Hoseok sprints to the table, warm hands cupping the cheeks of the fallen member before scattering around the room, desperately pulling drawer after drawer from a cupboard. Your eyes move from the man on the table to him and you walk over to his right, pulling out drawers yourself.

Hoseok glances at you for a mere second and pauses, before his eyes drift over to what you were doing, and he resumes searching. Soon, an array of medical supplies have been pulled out – from long white dressings to healing medication. Hoseok gestures for you to place down the supplies and he takes out a pair of scissors, hurriedly cutting them up and then wrapping then around the man’s bloody leg.

“Why don’t you leave him here to be healed?” You ask, watching Hoseok hurriedly make a series of wraps, “You can hide him here where it’s safe and go back to fight.”

“Because we need him right now, as well as me.” Hoseok grunts, pulling tightly on the white cloth until there’s no blood flowing through and soaking it, “If I leave him, our numbers will keep dropping and no one will be on the sidelines.”

“We’ll lose.” Hoseok sighs, sending you a remorseful smile that has your insides turning before he takes some water from a bowl and splashing it against the man’s face. “Hey, Taehyung. Come on, wake up.”

Hoseok continues to shake the man until his eyes regain conscious and then hosts him up on the table to sit as he leans against him. He heaves out deep breathes, eyes scrunching up in pain and fisting Hoseok’s shirt but attempting to keep himself upright. His eyes slowly upward, making contact with yours as he gives you the same stiff smile Hoseok and it feels like a slap to the face.

You don’t even have an estimate, heck you don’t think anyone actually even bothered to count how many wolves have been injured or hurt by your own clan. It simply never mattered, because the objective that was always upheld never changed.

EXTERMINATE THEM.

To see their numbers dwelling down, to see that you were making progress and riding the world of something horrible and dangerous, to see one of them struggling to be okay so he can survive enough to continue the fight.

Your people did this.

No.

You did this.

Before Taehyung has a chance to return, the room is suddenly filling up with multiple wolves, all carrying the same look of exhaustion and sensation of being on the verge of collapsing. Your eyes frantically move around, wondering why they were all choosing to come back when the flashes outside only seem to be growing intense by the minute.

The door slams shut, a click sounding before a familiar wolf moves alongside his pack. Your eyes widen taking him in, tracing all over his feverish state and similar feral golden eyes, before he staggers onto the ground.

You move forward, attempting to hold onto him before he meets the ground and he clings onto you, resting some of his weight. His eyes meet you and they appear to want to say something, but the lack of energy doesn’t allow him to.

“We had to come back.”

You turn your eyes away from Jungkook and notice Yoongi hovering over you, sharing the same look of exhaustion mixed in with something else.

Yoongi down-casts his eyes, uttering the same words that cause a mortified expression to twist on your features, “Because we’ve been forced to retreat.”

***

“The attacks have been coming from the south side, they’ve defiantly identified our weak spot and their numbers have also been increasing rapidly.” Yoongi states in a rushed tone, eyes locking onto his Alpha.

Namjoon hums, seated down and folding his hands together on the table in front of him as his eyes roam around, scanning the room that’s now filled with wolves. Some appear absolutely drained on the ground, eyelids fluttering shut at the peak of exhaustion while others chose to stand but sway as they do. “We don’t seem to be holding up any better either.”

“Injuries have been sustained.” Yoongi briefly glances at Taehyung, before his eyes move him around the room similar to his superior, “But choosing to constantly fight won’t do much for us this time.”

Namjoon’s hands fall apart and his fists tighten, sharp canines tightening, “They’ve gotten stronger this time.” Letting his hands loosen with a sigh, he rubs at his sore eyes and a sombre look sparks within them that latches onto his resting members, “It won’t be too long until they finally make their way here.”

“What are they after?”

Your voice cuts through the silence, evoking surprised looks from both Namjoon and Yoongi alongside a collection of curious ones from the remaining members. Shaking the puzzlement off, Namjoon rests a hand against his cheek and directs his golden eyes straight at you. “I think it should be obvious at this point – you.”

You gulp, a tingle of buzz running down your body and your throat running dry when the words escape you, “Then why don’t you just hand me over?”

“No.” The person you had least expected to answer you decides to respond and you dart a quick intrigued look when Yoongi crosses his arms and looks away, “You’re one of us now and we never hand over any one of our kind.”

Your mouth falls agape at his firm words, wondering what he was thinking in such a way, “There’s no point though. You’ll self-destruct if you don’t hand me over.”

“Then we’ll self-destruct until we explode. You haven’t been a wolf for long so you probably don’t know, but it doesn’t matter what’s thrown at you.” Yoongi’s voice turns hoarse, eyes flashing gold, “We always protect our kind.”

Protect?

Why…why would they want to protect you?

“Y/N?” A familiar voice croaks, blocking the thoughts out when Jungkook reaches a hand out to get your attention. He’s slumped down on the ground next to you and winces when raising his arm causes too much pain to cascade through his body but persists, “You’re not hurt right?”

You shake your head, “Why would I be hurt? Those are my people out there.”

A stiff smile is on his face, like he knew something that you didn’t. “You’re a wolf. Slayers hunt wolves.”

You furrow your brows, simply staring at him when he attempts to sit up, “Isn’t it slayers job to exterminate all wolves?”

“But they wouldn’t though, I-“ You stop in your tracks, taking in what Jungkook was saying.

Was there really anything stopping them from killing you? Killing another wolf?

“We need to come up with another plan.” Namjoon states, his voice commanding all eyes on him as he glances over to Yoongi, “We don’t have enough time.”

Yoongi shakes his head, eyes tracing over the intricate designs of the floor when his mind can’t seem to formulate a decisive plan. “Our options are limited, and they won’t stop until they’ve infiltrated us.”

Namjoon hums in agreement, placing a thoughtful finger on his chin.

“Let me fight with you.”

Both heads turn, wondering if the voice they heard was truly coming from your direction when you stare at them with determined silver eyes.

“You want to fight with us?” Despite just stating you will, Yoongi can’t comprehend why this was something you were choosing to do. “Go against your own kind?”

“I’ll have to face them one way or another…” Standing up from the spot on the ground next to Jungkook, your eyes stray over to Hoseok and Taehyung, who was still struggling to stand up. “…and I’m part wolf now, meaning I need to protect my own kind too.”

The silence that greets you back tells you that Yoongi was expecting that type of answer from you and it was one answer you hadn’t been expecting from yourself quite frankly either. However, something that didn’t come within your training and had to come from yourself was your sense of protection and that wasn’t going to ever dwindle no matter what side you ended upon.

“Well then,” Yoongi smiles smugly, “Looks like it’s time for you to get in on the action.”

***

“This isn’t a good idea Y/N.” Jungkook slowly trails behind you as he occasionally winces, watching you hurriedly suit up your boots.

“I have to go Jungkook, none of you are going to last out there like this.” You stomp your foot on the ground, glancing at him. “I’m a hybrid now so hopefully that can give us some kind of upper hand.”

A hand lands on your arm and stops you in your tracks. You don’t expect the sincerity in Jungkook’s eyes nor the hushed tone he uses, “Would you really do this? For us?”

You pause, fumbling on any possible words you could respond with. Truthfully the reasoning behind it all is still foggy in your mind, however, there’s something inside you that’s telling you that you can’t just sit back and relax while they hurt themselves like this. Besides, you’re starting to think it was about time you faced those orange flashes in front of your eyes.

“You shouldn’t be going.”

A third voice causes both you and Jungkook to turn to see Jimin standing against the doorway with crossed arms, “This is our fight, not yours.”

Furrowing your brows, you notice that Jungkook turns stiff next to you, recoiling closer behind you until his entire form shrinks. Moving your eyes back to Jimin, you wonder why he decided to even intrude on your conversation, “I’m still going.” Stating the words, the dissatisfaction on Jimin’s and Jungkook’s faces is clear alike, but you leave the room and don’t look at either of them.

Walking across the hall, you notice that Jungkook leaves the room as well, sending an indecipherable look at Jimin before trailing behind you. You wonder if you should ask him about it, especially from how noticeable his actions could be without him not knowing, but then your eyes catch onto the members standing together at the front gate.

They’re all lined up together, looking considerably better than before. Namjoon is talking to Yoongi and Seokjin, appearing to be giving them a set of instructions while Hoseok stands behind them with an arm around Taehyung, carefully listening but not letting him slip through his hands.

However, the moment you take a step forward, all eyes are suddenly glued to you. The looks range from distant and wary, and you know exactly why.

You were dressed in slayer clothing.

When you draw closer to them, they still talk with one another, but you see their eyes drifting over to you occasionally, eyes growing colder by the minute.

Walking closer to Taehyung and Hoseok, you notice how the latter’s face isn’t as pale as before and you turn to Hoseok, “Is he doing better?”

Hoseok smiles at you, perhaps the only member aside from Jungkook and Taehyung to do so before he nods, “Not as great before the fight happened but he can pull through.”

Your eyes move over to Taehyung, who gives you an exhausted smile paired alongside with his droopy eyes. A hand raises from your right side, Yoongi gesturing everyone to stay quiet but to start moving out. Everyone advances together but you decide to slide up ahead, staying closer to the front of the pack.

Jungkook joins you much to your own surprise and whispers in a low tone, “Stay near me, okay?”

You hum, but as soon as the doors open, you witness firsthand the havoc that was ensuring outside the base’s walls. Your features completely contort when you take in the sheer amount of blood splattered all over the ground, the loud cries echoing thought the field and the pent-up rage shimmering off on the opposite side. The sheer amount of slayers before you is intimidating to view as well – you had only ever seen beasts on the other line, but seeing slayers now gives you a different kind of chill.

It’s horrifying to look at them like this, out for blood and to kill.

“We don’t need to hurt them, just get them to stop moving closer to our base.”

As if Jungkook already knew what was brewing up inside your mind, you turn to see him giving you a reassuring smile. You nod, taking a deep breath and relaxing down your shoulders.

Clasping your hands together, a flash of white shines until you spread them apart and the golden sword comes blazing through. The werewolves near you morph into their wolf counterparts, bones cracking and fur emerging, loud snarls echoing through the field. Glancing over to your right, you see a range of colours, from Namjoon’s dark brown wolf in the front to a large black and salmon pink wolf right behind him and the red and shady blonde wolves that follow. They’re all in perfect formation, preparing to launch themselves straight forward when you turn your head even more to lock eyes with your best friend, who gives you a small smile before his entire form morphs.

It happens within a flash, his hands turning into claws and ears poking out from the base of his head. Caramel-brown fur emerges all over his arms and legs before his hands go forward and he’s instantly transformed into a wolf and running with you on his paws. Your jaw drops – not knowing how incredible the ability was until seeing it with your own two eyes.

Jungkook’s wolf halts before a group of slayers and you grip onto the hilt of your sword, a blaze of orange instantly surging out and engulfing it. Raising the sword, the gold clashing against bronze and you whip around, defending around yourself in a circle.

You grit your teeth, attempting to hold them back as much as you can. Sending one slayer flying back with a brutal impact from your sword, she staggers, and you glance behind you, eyes latching onto Jungkook’s wolf who is holding back his own group of slayers. Your eyes dart over, watching the entire field immersed in battle, wolves and slayers distributed along the ground and far from the base.

Taking in a deep breath, you whip the dripping sweat off from your forehead and bring forth your arm when a sword is raised against you. You see the slayers getting up from the ground, rushing to you and you continue to swing your sword and push them back.

However, instead of ruthlessly swinging your sword around this time, you falter when your eyes take in the looks on the faces.

They’re represented differently on each individual, but you can them clearly reflected.

Confusion.

You bite your lip back, noticing that behind each face that confronts you, there’s a vicious layer of puzzlement that resides in their attacks.

The worst part is when you can understand the anguish and resentment.

How do you tell them that what you’re protecting is what you need to kill?

Bitterly turning away from the matter, you continue to fight and watch as similar coloured flames collide with one another. Yet after going through more and more members, your strength dwindles and you find yourself heaving, looking around to notice that you weren’t the only one.

They were overpowering everyone.

You raise your sword, but it gets tossed to the side when your arm can barely reach up enough to defend. The slayers advance and you can sense every single drop of furious anger radiating off of them when they walk closer to you.

Sweat drips down your temples and your hands are clammy, but you reach for your sword, knowing you can’t give up.

Not when everyone will be defeated.

Taking raspy gasps, you tighten your hold on the hilt and summoning as much energy you can into your fist. With a cry, you charge forward and pounce back harder this time, gold hitting against bronze.

Silver blazes.

You can only stare when the sword transitions from orange to silver, a soft grey that compares to the silver brewing in your eyes. Your opponent is also surprised, watching the now two different colours clash with each other. Although that reaction doesn’t remain for long when they pull back, soon charging at you as you sink back down into a defence position.

A scream emits from her throat.

It pierces your ears, tearing them apart when you glance at the now fallen slayer, her hand separated from the cascading heat her sword emits with her eyes sealed shut. You glance at her and then your sword, the silver faintly touching your hands but not giving you the same tear-jerking sensation.

Your shaken eyes remain on your sword, too occupied to notice the sword slowly coming up behind you until it's reflected through the gold. Whipping around, silver meets orange again and the slayer has the same reaction. She drops her sword, staggering away from you in pain.

One by one, they fall before you. You don’t understand why, but when you look around yourself and notice the numbers moving father and father from the base, you decide not to question it. Soon you’re left standing with slayers on the ground, each experiencing the same excruciating pain your sword had given them.

Leaving your fighting spot, you head towards where the other wolves are. A blur of blue flashes by you, soaring on its paws at the same speed as you and you briefly turn to glance at it, noticing that the shade seemed familiar to you.

The wolf speeds up before throwing itself directly at a slayer in front of you, knocking her down onto the ground as the wolf rushes to pounce onto another one. It continues to do this, moving from slayer to slayer until they’ve all been eliminated from your path.

It’s strange and becomes even more peculiar when the blue wolf sticks to you, a satisfied look on its face every time it gets the opportunity to jump forward. Snatching your eyes away from it, they instantly widen when you notice the sheer number of wolves transcending over in a distance, all covered with streaks of blood gaping out from freshly cut wounds as they get demolished within a sea of black.

The speed in your legs accelerates, sword sparking up in a bright silver when it comes into contact with a sword similar to your own. You grit your teeth, holding onto the sword until your knuckles turn pale and the silver only intensifies.

Before you even know it, the slayer lets out a piercing scream, dropped her sword into the dirt on the ground as if the very touch burns her. Surrounding slayers gaze at their fallen comrade with confusion before they hurl themselves towards you and the same happens to them, only with greater intensity as you summon as much power as you can.

The rest have contorted expressions on their faces, as if they were fighting against something they weren’t prepared for and hurriedly retreat. You huff out a breath, the silver glow around your sword dimming down when you turn around to face a line of wolves simply staring at you. Just like the slayers weren’t prepared for you to launch such a havoc attack, the wolves are similar in being frozen in a state of shock from the sudden wave of flashing silver that was rapidly wiping away the large volume of slayer numbers.

A content smile is on your lips, almost tasting victory when the slayers continue to scatter away as their numbers are significantly reduced. You glance back at the line of wolves, looking to them with triumphant eyes that are only met with grateful ones.

That’s when a loud ear-splitting growl echoes through the grounds and you spin around, only to hear it fade down into a distant human scream that sends a cascade of shivers down your spine when you can recognize who exactly the voice belonged to.

“JUNGKOOK!” Your voice comes out harsh as your legs are instantly sprinted forward when you catch sight of your best friend on the ground, lying in a pool of blood collecting around him as he recoils into himself. Your boots skid against the dirt when they come to a halt and you instantly sink to your knees, eyes flickering everywhere and reaching out to hold onto him as your sword slips out of your hands.

His entire face is covered in a layer of sweat, and he harshly clenches his mouth. You glance down at his side, noticing that his hand was glued to his lower abdomen and the material of his shirt was soaking up the majority of the bloody residue. That’s when his eyes begin to flutter, slowly shutting when he succumbs down.

“J-Jungkook…?” You don’t even realize you’re crying until harsh tears roll down your cheeks and stain his shirt. Reaching a shaky hand, you place it against his cheek, hoping that he’ll give you some type of reaction.

Slowly opening up his lids, Jungkook sucks in a heavy breath and raises his bloody hand. You lean closer to him, only to notice that was trying to point behind you as desperation leaks into his eyes.

Your eyes immediately widened, and you whip around, unsheathing your sword from the ground and raising it high. The base of your sword is left only being a mere inch away from your nose when it comes into contact with bronze, a hooded shadow figure leaning over you.

Gritting your teeth, you push against them with your sword and lift it, silver blazing as you’re ready to unleash havoc on the figure.

But that’s when they lower their sword, bringing it down as your own is still held up. Confusion sparks within you when they retract their opposing hand, bringing it over to their hood and slowly dragging it down.

From the dark silver eyes to the gray strands of hair and a dark smile, every inch that’s revealed to you only has you sinking back and has your heart rate spiking up. It violently thuds against your chest and a sickening sensation twists within your stomach when a recognizable face stands before you.

Your voice only serves to come out as a faint whisper as your sword lowers.

“M-Mother?”

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buckybarnesbingo · 5 years

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Week 7 roundup! Click through to see the awesome content our creators came up with this week! As far as we know, there are no Endgame spoilers, but we can’t promise that’s the case.

Title: Summer's Folly Collaborator: GreyishBlue Link: AO3 Square Filled: B4 - AU: Urban Fantasy Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: First meetings, Modern with magic AU Summary: Bucky Barnes is commited to his recovery, but he intends to bitch about it every step of the way. His running mouth gets him in a bit of a bind. Word Count: 801

Title: Werewolf Bucky Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B2 - fluff Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Werewolf Bucky for all ya needs 🖤

Title: Distractions Collaborator: empyreanwritings Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y5 - polyamory/open relationship Ship: Stucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: I wanna see what you can do with dancing in the kitchen making dinner one night. That’s a fun one because there’s always someone to dance with while there still being someone to cook the food. Word Count: 1400ish

Title: Mild Case of Hypothermia Collaborator: candycanedarcy Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - huddling for warmth Ship: Bucky/Clint/Steve Rating: Teen Major Tags: huddling for warmth, protective Steve, mild angst Summary: Clint, Bucky and Steve are trapped in a little snow cave during a mission, and Clint's uniform doesn't have sleeves. What could this possibly lead to? Word Count: 1761

Title: And Your Heart Beats in My Blood Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: U2 - Tony Stark/Iron Man Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: soulmate AU, young Tony, kinda angsty, canonical character death Summary: Tony Stark's soulmate died when they were both young; or so he thought. When a ghostly heartbeat continues to haunt him, Tony's AI proposes an unlikely hypothesis. Word Count: 2428

Title: Second Chances - Part 1: Soldier Collaborator: until-theend-oftheline Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - scars Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Mature Major Tags: Injuries, Torture, HYDRA are assholes! Summary: Dr. Y/N Pierce has dedicated her life to helping others, so when her father Alexander offers her a job working for Shield she sees it as the perfect opportunity. What she doesn’t realize is the evil he is hiding from not only the world but his own daughter. As she finds out she turns her back on him and HYDRA, but as the Winter Soldier starts to remember who he once was, he turns to the only person he remembers being kind to him in decades. Can two fugitives help each other find peace with who they are and where they came from? Word Count: 2300ish

Title: It takes time… Collaborator: welldonebeca Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B4 - arranged marriage Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: His mother always said that love wasn’t something that came easily. It had t be constructed step by step, stone by stone, day by day. It happened exactly like that with his parents, and with their parents before them, and their parents before them. So now, standing at the chuppah watching you making the seven circles around him, Bucky could only think that he wanted this to work, and he’d do his best.

Title: Just Relax, Trust Me, It’s Okay to Let Go… Collaborator: lokivsanubis Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - KINK: Praise Kink Ship: Stuckony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: dubcon, explicit sexual content, mind control, feminization Summary: “One word Tony… Come on let go… just relax and trust me… you know you’ll feel so much better once you relax.” He continued massaging up the other’s arm listening to the moans that escaped his slightly parted lips. “How do you feel Tony… One word…” “Good…” “Alright just a bit deeper… the better you feel the deeper you go and the deeper you go the better you feel…” He began massaging the length of Tony’s arm. Tony’s head began to lull as he fell deeper into a trance. Bucky smiled. “Ahhh, you fell so much faster this time… now Anthony let’s see if you followed my suggestions from our last session.” he released the inventor’s arm. “Strip and let’s see what you’re wearing under your suit.” Tony sleepily undid his shirt revealing the beginnings of white lace against lightly tanned skin. OR: The Bucky is a hypnotist and uses his ability to hypnotize his best friend into being in a relationship with him and later gets tony to join them fanfic nobody asked for but I wrote as a way to play with all the kinks i love lol. Please feel free to come along for the ride. Word Count: 2671

Title: Uncle Jamie’s Babysitting Misadventures Collaborator: Judy_The_Dreamer Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - Darcy Lewis Ship: Bucky & Darcy Rating: Gen Major Tags: Kid fic, fluff, babysitting, Darcy is Tony's daughter, Parent Tony Stark Summary: Short and fluffy drabbles chronicling James Barnes's babysitting adventures. Part of a larger alternate universe 'Ever bright beyond this Dark'. Word Count: 521

Title: I Would Have Kissed You Like That Collaborator: Voodoosgirl Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Take the Shot Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Embedded images, Angst, Recovery, non-graphic smut Summary: Bucky and Steve fill in the gaps; memories, history, missing pieces for two men out of time. There are days that it's painful; this night, it's soft. Word Count: 971

Title: Saturday Morning Collaborator: avintagekiss24 Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5- Shopping Together Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: Domestic Fluff Summary: A look into a random Saturday morning with you and Bucky. Word Count: 532

Title: Soulmates Never Die Collaborator: trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B1 - SOULMARKS Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: moodboard, soulmates Summary: WinterIron soulmate moodboard

Title: Just Relax, Trust Me, It’s Okay to Let Go… - Chapter 3: Steve Tossed Tony's Salad Collaborator: lokivsanubis Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - Kink Square: Nipple Play Ship: Stuckony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: extremely dubious consent, hypnotism, explicit sexual content, feminization Summary: Tony starts us out strong and Bucky brings it home in the end. Lunch goes exactly as Bucky planned for the most part. Word Count: 9655

Title: Music haunts his bedroom Collaborator: sweeetmonstrosity Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y4 – PTSD Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: PTSD, Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, angst with a happy ending Summary: In which Tony is gone, Bucky survives the snap and now he must learn how to live without his heart. Word Count: 4305

Title: Naked Cuddles (Aesthetic) Collaborator: welldonebeca Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Bucky/Clint Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Teen Major Tags: moodboard, implied nudity

#buckybarnesbingo2019 #bbb2019 #roundup #weekly roundup #week 7 #week 7 roundup

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