#Beacon Mental Hospital

[crimescrimson]

The Evil Within & Menu Title Cards: Main Game | The Assignment | The Consequence | The Executioner

[ultimateanna]

The Evil Within - Randall's Crossing

[bruhvik]

[wizardnuke]

the shadowgast pacific rim au that exists in my brain.

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

[sofiascripts]

love in recovery ✧.*

pro hero bakugou x reader

when pro hero dynamite, along with some other heros, step in to assist midoriya during the intense ua finals, he finds himself accidentally injured and in need of treatment from the new recovery girl. assuming she follows the same procedure as her predecessor, he expects a kiss on the cheek to heal his wounds.

✎ wc: 3656

ׂ╰┈➤ warnings: cursing... and not proofread

when you had started at u.a. high, it had been filled with excitement and anticipation. every day had felt like a new adventure, with the hallways buzzing with energy from the promising students. you were new to the area, having moved into musutafu for the job, leaving all your friends and family back home. it wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, and you had midoriya to thank for that. he started around the same time as you, and since he grew up in the area and graduated from u.a., he was more than willing to show you around.

you were no idiot; you knew about him way before his introduction. after all, the name izuku midoriya was synonymous with heroism, the man who had followed in all might's footsteps and become a beacon of hope for so many. but despite his accomplishments and fame, midoriya was incredibly humble. he didn’t mention even once that he was pretty much the sole reason you were here, working this job, and pursuing your own dreams. he could’ve easily let his reputation speak for itself, but instead, he chose to connect with you as an equal, as if he were just another colleague finding his place in the world.

you couldn't help but admire him for that. his kindness and humility made it easy to settle in and find your footing. he introduced you to a few of his friends and they welcomed you with open arms, he was always there with a smile or a word of encouragement, and before long, you found yourself feeling more at home than you ever expected.

this was your second year as the new nurse at u.a. high. your quirk, aura of restoration, allows you to emit a healing aura within a certain radius, gradually mending wounds, restoring energy, and alleviating pain for anyone within its range. it's a powerful quirk, capable of providing much-needed relief during intense training sessions and after battles. you can also focus your aura on one individual, which is especially helpful when the injury is serious because all of the healing is concentrated on them.

however, your quirk comes with significant drawbacks. the more people you heal at once, the more energy it drains from you, leaving you physically and mentally exhausted. on particularly challenging days, even maintaining the aura for a few minutes can be taxing. additionally, your quirk is highly sensitive to your mental state; if you're stressed or anxious, the effectiveness of the healing diminishes. the aura might flicker or fail entirely, putting those relying on your help at risk.

despite these challenges, you take great pride in your work. you often volunteer at hospitals to strengthen the capacity at which you can heal. you’ve become a familiar face to the students and staff, offering them not just physical healing but also a sense of comfort and reassurance. many students appreciate your presence, often stopping by not just for medical help but also for a few calming words or a bit of advice—or perhaps just as an excuse to get out of class. you appreciate it nonetheless!

today the atmosphere in ua was even more exciting than usual, it was lovely, you knew your quirk would be extra strong today. you continued down the hallways waving hello to your colleagues and stopping by the faculty room.

“good morning, mr. aizawa,” you greeted as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, the rich aroma began to fill the room.

aizawa glanced up from his papers, his usual tired expression softening just slightly. “morning,” he mumbled, taking a sip from his own mug.

“what’s the deal today? the energy in the building feels different—much stronger and very lively,” you remarked, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of your coffee.

aizawa raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting toward the window where sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow across the room. “some of the pro heroes are coming in today to help with the students' finals. it’s got them all worked up. they’re eager to impress,” he explained, his tone as calm as ever, but with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“ah, that would explain it,” you said, nodding in understanding, “its going to be quite a show with all of them here.”

aizawa smirked slightly, a rare expression for him. “and some of the teachers are also looking forward to seeing their old students,” he added, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“oh? so we might see some of your former students too, then?” you teased, trying to imagine aizawa in a more sentimental light.

he shrugged, but there was a trace of fondness in his voice when he replied, “maybe. it’s always interesting to see how they’ve gro–

before mr. aizawa could finish, a cheerful voice cut through the conversation causing both your heads to turn toward the doorway “good morning, mr. aizawa! y/n!”

“goodmorning izuku! we were just talking about you,” you turned to aizawa and watched as he let out a loud and obnoxious sigh causing midoriya to raise a brow, but neither of you missed the way the corner of his lips twitched up, as if he was forcing himself not to smile.

midoriya continued toward the bagel arrangement, selecting one and slicing it open with practiced ease. “oh? all good things, i hope?” he asked with a knowing glint in his eye as he spread cream cheese on his bagel.

you took another sip of your coffee, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “what else could there be?” you replied, setting the mug down on the counter.

midoriya’s grin widened as he prepared his bagel, clearly pleased by the compliment. “guess i’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

you finished your coffee and placed the mug in the sink, quickly washing it before putting it away in the cabinet. “i heard your friends are coming in today. are you excited?” you asked, turning back to him as you dried your hands.

“of course!” midoriya beamed, crumbs falling from his bagel onto the plate as he spoke with his mouth partially full. “it’s not often we can all coordinate our schedules like this. it’s always great to catch up and see how everyone’s been progressing. they’ve been training hard as heroes, so i’m really looking forward to seeing how they’ve grown.”

you leaned against the counter, your smile softening as you watched him enjoy his breakfast. “i just hope they don’t rough up my students too much,” you said, a hint of concern in your voice. “i want everyone to stay safe and make the most of today’s opportunities.”

midoriya chuckled softly, his eyes filled with reassurance. “don’t worry. they’re professionals. they’ll push the students, but they know how to keep things balanced and constructive.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘♡︎∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 

“DIE! DIE! DIE!” you swore you could feel the observation room shake every time that angry blonde yelled, even if he didn’t set off any explosions. 

you were stationed in a temporary office nearby the testing site. there were three battles at a time and you had nine screens, giving you three different angles for each fight.

you were in the middle of healing three students who had all failed their practical exam, the sadness in their voices was evident making you a little bit sad which caused your quirk to work a bit slower than you liked. the room was filled with the low hum of concern and the occasional sharp war cry from bakugou, whose frustration was clear even through the thick walls of the medical bay. his voice, filled with rage, echoed through the facility.

one of the students from tsukuyomis group, still visibly shaken, tried to explain the chaotic battle to you as you worked. “that was so scary,” they said, their voice trembling. “one minute i was trying to——and then dark shadow, and the next, i was—oh my gosh—out of nowhere, everything just went boom!”

you tried to listen attentively, nodding in fake understanding while focusing on your healing. you were pacing around the room, allowing yourself to spread the calm and healing aura to each of the three students around you. all had very minor injuries, which is what most of the students had when they came in. you were really nervous for pro hero explosion god something murder the dynamites students though. “GET OVER HERE YOU BRAT!” you tensed up for a minute and sighed, grateful that you had already gone through your training and never had to experience a mentor like that.

as bakugou’s furious shouts reverberated through the medical bay, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. his anger was intimidating, almost overwhelming, but beneath that fiery exterior was something undeniably impressive. it wasn’t just his raw power or the way he commanded attention—it was his unyielding determination, his refusal to accept anything less than excellence from himself and those around him. he pushed his group of students hard, maybe too hard, but it was clear that he did it because he believed in their potential. he saw something in them that they might not even see in themselves, and he was determined to drag it out, kicking and screaming if necessary.

“try to focus on your breathing,” you gently advised one of the students, she was one of the students that failed. you placed a reassuring hand on their shoulder, your aura continuing to work its calming magic. “you did well, remember, it’s all part of the process. everyone grows at their own pace.”

the student nodded, their breath evening out as they relaxed under your guidance. you could see the tension slowly melting away from their posture, and you were glad to see it. it was moments like this—when you could help bring someone back from the brink of fear and uncertainty—that made your job worth it.

“let’s get you patched up,” you said softly, moving to the next student, who offered you a grateful, if somewhat shaky, smile. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘♡︎∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 

you had just finished up with the last round of students, sighing in relief as you began to tidy up your small office. the day's paperwork had demanded most of your attention, so you were completely absorbed in clearing your desk when a sudden, loud thump made you jump. heart racing, you spun toward the source of the noise, fear gripping you as you realized you hadn't even heard anyone enter.

"got hit." the voice that broke the silence was gruff and low, tinged with irritation. you turned fully to see him—pro hero great god dynamite murder explosion, something like that—sitting on one of your beds, his usually fierce gaze narrowed slightly as he pointed to a small cut at the top of his forehead. your eyes widened, and your mouth hung slightly agape. bakugou was the last person you'd expect to see wounded by a simple training exercise.

but you quickly gathered yourself, professionalism taking over. "oh? pro hero dynamite got bested by a couple of kids?" you teased lightly, trying to mask your concern with a touch of humor.

his scowl deepened, though there was a flicker of something like amusement in his eyes. "first off, it’s pro hero great explosion murder god dynamite." he sank into the chair across from you with a grunt. "second, they made me go easy on those brats. 'course they got a hit in." he made a face, clearly mimicking someone else. "'told me i couldn’t just fail them all, it would ruin their self-esteem.'"

you bit back a smile as you began to assess him more thoroughly. the cut on his forehead was minor, but your trained eyes quickly scanned for any other injuries. as you reached for his wrists, you noticed two quirk-suppressing bands clamped around them. one of those could practically nullify a person’s quirk—two were overkill, even for someone as powerful as bakugou. your gaze drifted lower, and he caught you staring at his ankles.

"they slapped these on too," he grumbled, pointing at the heavy weights secured there. "said it was to 'even the playing field.' whatever that means."

you hummed thoughtfully, gently inspecting the quirk-suppressing bands. "they really didn't want you going all out, huh?" you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

he huffed, crossing his arms. "if i hadn’t been wearing all this crap, they wouldn’t have landed a damn finger on me."

he then pointed at the small cut on his forehead again, a slight tilt of his head making it clear he was expecting something. you blinked at him, confused for a moment, before the realization dawned on you. "you want me to... kiss it?"

"what, you think i’m here for a band-aid? just get it over with already.” 

you stared at him, half-expecting him to crack a smile and admit he was joking, but his serious expression made it clear he wasn't. and then it dawned on you, he thought you were like recovery girl. he thought that your quirk required a kiss to heal. 

despite the absurdity of the situation, you found yourself hesitating. he was in a foul mood, and it was probably best not to argue, so you let out a small sigh.

"right... sure," you muttered you. you leaned in closer to him, slowly activating your quirk before your lips lightly brushed against the small cut on his forehead, leaving a faint warmth behind. you pulled back quickly, your cheeks slightly flushed as you avoided his gaze,

“all set!” you say softly, you move over to your desk to once again busy yourself with your paperwork. he stared at you for a moment but slowly got up and walked to one of the mirrors in the room and stared at the spot where the cut once was, deciding that your work was good, he began to leave but paused when he heard you chuckle softly.

"what’s so funny?" he asked, his tone a mix of irritation and curiosity.

"oh, nothing," you replied, "just picturing you going easy on a bunch of kids. it's hard to imagine."

bakugou grunted in response, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward just slightly—a rare almost-smile.

"don't get used to it," he warned, "next time, those brats won't know what hit 'em."

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, finally allowing yourself to smile as you watched him head toward the door. "try not to get hit again, dynamite," you called after him, half-teasing, half-serious.

he glanced back at you, smirking. "don’t hold your breath."

and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in your now slightly less cluttered office, shaking your head in amusement.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘♡︎∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 

you didn’t expect to see bakugou for a while—actually, you didn’t expect to see him ever again after healing him on the first day of finals. but to your surprise, he kept coming back to your office after every fight. each time, he had nothing more than minor scuffs and bruises, barely anything that needed attention.

he also always conveniently liked to show up after all the other students were gone. you couldnt complain though, it allowed you to focus on the students and it made it easier for you to maintain the little white lie that you were just like recovery girl. though you couldn’t quite figure out why he kept coming back, especially when his injuries were barely worth mentioning—a few scrapes, a bruise here and there, nothing serious. 

each visit left you more puzzled, wondering what exactly was going through his mind. was he really that concerned with every little scratch, did he have some sort of problem? 

eventually, curiosity got the better of you. after yet another visit where his injuries were almost laughable, you couldn’t hold back any longer. you leaned in slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "so, bakugou, are you here for the healing, or do you just enjoy my company?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "because these tiny bruises hardly seem worth the trip." you gave him a quick peck, still activating your quirk.

he brushed off your question with his usual gruff attitude. “told you, it’s about staying in top shape. can’t have anything slowing me down, not even a damn scratch,” he snapped, his voice laced with irritation. “gotta be at my best if i’m gonna be number one.” but as tough as he tried to sound, the slight redness creeping up his neck betrayed him. his eyes flicked away, avoiding your gaze like he was hiding something. despite his words, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his frequent visits than just wanting to stay in peak condition. 

but you didn’t push. instead you gave him a small smile before moving back to your desk.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘♡︎∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 

it was the last day of the students' finals and also your last day at ua before winter break. just like he had been doing for the past two weeks, bakugou was back in your office, sitting on one of the infirmary beds with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, waiting for you to finish up and give him a ‘healing’ kiss.

you were helping midoriya with something before bakugou arrive, and when he walked in, you hald expected him to demand your attention as he usually did, but he simply took a seat and waited. you glanced at him, surprised by his uncharacteristic patience, but decided to finish up with midoriya first.

bakugou sat there, silently fuming as he watched you and midoriya chatting away. every now and then, a soft laugh would escape your lips, or you'd toss in a teasing comment that made midoriya blush slightly. each time, bakugou's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists as he tried to keep himself from blowing up right then and there. he was certain midoriya was dragging things out on purpose.

“thanks again,” midoriya said, glancing at the paperwork you'd helped him with. “not sure why they make these sites so difficult.”

“sure thing, zuku," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing. "but i gotta say, you're pretty hopeless when it comes to this tech stuff, huh?"

the nickname made bakugou twitch in his seat, his patience wearing thin. he couldn’t stand seeing you and deku acting all buddy-buddy, especially not when he was practically bleeding out of a deep wound in the middle of your office. it was about the size of a paper cut.

midoriya, ever observant, noticed the bakugou's odd behavior. a knowing smirk spread across his face as he decided to push his old friend’s buttons just a bit more. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you visit recovery girl this much back in our school days, kachann,” he remarked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

bakugou’s glare sharpened, and he turned his head toward midoriya, practically daring him to continue. “what?” you asked, catching the tail end of their exchange, curiosity piqued.

midoriya's smirk widened, his voice lowering even further. “oh, nothing. just noticing how often you’re in here these days, bakugou. you know, back in the day, you couldn’t stand being patched up, always rushing out before recovery girl could even finish. funny how things change.”

bakugou’s patience snapped. he shot to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. “scram, nerd,” he barked, his voice low and threatening. “didn’t want old lady lips on me back then, and i sure as hell don’t want you flappin’ yours now.”

midoriya chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he stepped back. “alright, alright. i’m going.” he turned to you, giving you a warm smile. “thanks again. see you after the break.” with that, he left the room, leaving you alone with a still fuming bakugou.

you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you finally turned your full attention to him. “you’re really going to blow a gasket one of these days, bakugou,” you teased, walking over to where he was standing.

“shut up and just get on with it,” he grumbled, though the red creeping up his neck betrayed his embarrassment.

you couldn’t resist one last tease before giving him what he’d come for. “you’ve really gotta tell me, are you here for the treatment, or is it my company you're after?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

“just do your damn job,” he muttered, but you caught the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he sat back down.

you leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the small bruise on his arm as your quirk activated. bakugou watched you closely, his irritation fading as the warmth of your quirk spread through him. despite his gruff exterior, he always seemed a little calmer after these visits, like the tension he carried with him all day finally started to ease up.

as you pulled back, you noticed his gaze lingering on you, a question unspoken in his eyes. but before you could ask, he stood up abruptly, heading for the door without another word.

“bakugou,” you called out, making him stop mid-step. he turned to face you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. you gave him a playful smile, trying to keep the mood light. “be careful out there, wont be around to patch all those little scapes and bruises.”

he raised an eyebrow, his usual scowl softening slightly. “so?”

you shrugged, a teasing grin on your lips. “sooo don’t want those little injuries to add up and start slowing you down, especially with your fight for the number one spot and all.”

he huffed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “no promises,” he muttered, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

a/n: thank you guys so much for all the love on striking a chord like omg i lit cant believe it Agafhdsjhfjnwjen i love you all so so very much and appreciate all of the likes and reblogs <333 there will be a chapter very very soon and i hope you all enjoyed this little thang as a token of my appreciation, lmk if you want a part 2!!!

(*♡´‿` 人´‿` ♡*)ﾟ

part two: love in recovery: the unmanliest of pairs!

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

Kai cenat Headcannons

● Kai loves constantly annoying or pulling pranks on you he just loves seeing get irritated. He pulled a prank on you, telling you to 'shut up' constantly every word you say. He was laughing but not too long since you beat his ass to get back at him. "Bro, ow why you gotta hit me like that, yo?" Kai said, rubbing his arms since you hit him so hard. "That's what yo ass get for pranking me, nigga." Y/n said laughing at him, as he glarer at you.

● He has you on your streams 24/7. His fans love you. They love the dynamic friendship y"all have together.

● He does the most dumbest shit and it you always have to get him out of it like it's annoying but it's funny as fuck.

● Nigga is a big back he may not look like a big back, but no he's a certified nig back nigga would be stealing or eating alot of food.

● If somebody tried to do something to you, he'd defend you.

● His mom and sister love and be teasing him since you guys would be a cute couple, but y'all brushed it off, y'all were just close.

●You're practically a part of Amp. His friends love you and are treated like a part of the group.

● Randomly dancing together.

● You'll scare him during his streams when he's playing a horror game.

● You tease him about being short. He only allows you to tease him, and he actually finds your jokes funny, to be honest.

● Y'all be doing crazy challenges together that can possibly make you both end up in the hospital.

● Try not to laugh videos with the rest of the amp members.

● That one time he brought nicki minaj on his stream, you were so happy because he knew how much you loved nicki and got a chance to meet her, Nicki liked you so much.

● You're his biggest supporter through everything, even through his ups and downs.

● Y"all be making secret joke no one could understand of how close you two are.

● Kai wanted to have you around every time through everything he appreciated you and is very glad to have as his best friend he couldn't be more grateful.

● If you were going through something with your mental health, he would always stop everything for you and would check up on you and make sure you're alright.

● When amp popularity soared, Kai became a household name, a beacon of positivity and laughter in a world of negativity, But through it all y/n remained by kai's side,being his confidant advisor and most important, his best friend.

● Kai and Y/n have the most infectious humor together and very entertaining qualities. You both are everything funny since y'all are both unserious and someone who can take his sense of humor.

● Kai is very humble and didn't let the fame change him. You'll expect a lot of support from his fans, friends, and family members. If kai was facing a lot of hate or backlash, you'll be listening to him rant and give him words if encouragement.

● Kai loves spoiling you he'll put you anything you want that you never had growing up. He bought you a car, and you were never much happier and more grateful. "Nah, what?? Yo, thank you for everything. You didn't have to do this." Y/n said, wiping the tears from her eyes as kai smiled at her. "No, you deserve it. we been through so much, and you were there through my ups and downs, you my best friend." Kai said as you both hugged each other longingly.

● Kai takes you everywhere together. Your friendship was never boring. He was taking you on trips traveling across the world. Attending exclusive events, meeting people, and just having fun, from red solo carpets, concerts, and having such a fun experience together.

● You never turned your back on kai even if he be annoying arms times, you would never be fake like everyone else Is on social media, you never talked shit about him ever and never used him for clout, you was like a sister to him.

● As y/n and Kai's friendship grew even stronger, they faced through challenges, good time, bad times, fame, but through it all, y'all were inseparable, bound together. Kai loves you, and he's lucky to have you by his side.

[christinesficrecs]

do you have any fic recs for season 3a? i’ve been rewatching and i really like the storyline 🥹

Well, Post-3B is my jam but try these ones. 🩷

Don’t Speak by fatale | 68.9K 

The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?

Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.

Thunderstorms & Polish Lullabies by Whispering_Samir | 10K

The one where Stiles time-travels just in time to save Boyd and Derek from the Alphas, and manages to heal everyone, including himself, just a little in the process.

There’s Monsters at Home by calrissian18 | 83,575

How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.

Derek despised him.

Forging Bonds by  mikkimouse | 27.5K

The loft was flooded, the water shimmering in the moonlight streaking through the huge windows. The twins held Derek on his knees, with his arms extended and claws out. Kali had Boyd, and she was dragging him toward Derek, and—

Stiles aimed at the twin closest to him and threw the Molotov cocktail as hard as he could.

Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by  butyoureyessaidyes | 125.2K

The one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn’t know he’s part of a werewolf pack (until he does).

The Nightmare of my Choice by mirrorkill | 106.2K | Mature

Rogue werewolves and incubi and ghosts, oh my!: Life in Beacon Hills continues to be the epitome of weird.

Especially for emissary-in-training Stiles, who's being literally haunted by a parade of Beacon Hills' deceased, who are trying to compel him to embrace the darkness in his heart. His only source of comfort is when he's writing to an emotionally constipated Beta werewolf. When Derek Hale is your anchor to sanity? Yeah, weird might be an underestimation.

Stiles is well suited to the path of an emissary; in fact, something important about him has already been overlooked. Something that could have deadly consequences both for him, and for everyone else...

Wanted by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 88K | Mature

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

In this Darkness (It's You I Hear) by Kedreeva | 9.9K | Mature

Deucalion bites Stiles on the way out of town, and Derek finds him in an unexpected condition....

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain | 22.3K

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

Where You Go To Rest Your Bones by allyasavedtheday | 6.4K

Derek feels him take a deep, shuddering breath and then Stiles disentangles himself – though he stays within the circle of Derek’s arms. “I missed you.” he whispers, looking at Derek like he’s expecting to be kicked out at any moment.

You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter | 234.1K

Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.

The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.

Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!

[dairy-farmer]

Tim getting lobotomised from the villain of the week, now Bruce has to look after him in every way (including sexually). Dick and Jason are sad that Tim's changed at first but slowly they accept it and it brings them back together as a family, Tim seems happier now anyway, watching children's shows, carrying around his plushies, getting fucked, being bathed, why bother trying to fix him when it makes them all happier? (Maybe Bruce even arranged it in the first place to keep him from leaving)

tim becoming permanently injured snaps something among them. because it's one thing being killed, another thing becoming physically and mentally scarred. with tim it's a deliberate act of cruelty designed to extract the most pain from tim's friends and family by forcing them to see what they've taken away from tim.

tim. poor tim. they were too late. it's not until his distress beacon turns on, activated by this new villain that decided to make their name by taking out one of the 'birds' of gotham, that they arrive.

his injuries are minor. some rope burn around his wrists and a cauterized circular scar above tim's eyes where the sick fuck had used a laser to sever tim's prefrontal cortex.

they don't want to believe at first. but the villain had left documentation, scans, taunts to show them how they were a "threat" to be taken seriously. they track him down in a matter of hours, it's the fastest they've ever caught a rogue. they won't go to arkham. it's highly unlikely they will ever even leave a hospital bed for the rest of their lives given the damage jason had done. because unfortunately for that villain, red hood had gotten to their location three minutes before anyone else and that had been more than enough time for him to instill his own personal brand of justice.

they extend every effort they can to fix this. leslie says there's not much she can do. yes she's a doctor but neurology is not her specialty but even without it she knows that...injuries with the brain are very complex and intricate matters. bruce extends every effort. he flies in doctors, specialists, doctors who have been retired for years but had been the best of the best, professors who don't even practice but have done more for the branch of science than anyone else, he gets special permission to visit villains in prison to get consults from them even though it burns the ethics seared into his bones but he can't deny that some of them know their stuff.

in the end its the same. the brain is complex. it's a deeply important organ but so much of it is still an enigma. bruce is given prescriptions for tim, recommendations for therapists for him, told that his support is all he can offer, a few of them even tell him that...that a care home might be the best option for tim if he doesn't feel equipped to deal with someone who is disabled.

at every person who can't help him bruce and the others grow more desperate. they're thinking of consulting magic users but zatanna says that's not their specialty. bruce thinks of consulting that short list of metas the league has of those with healing powers but none are particularly skilled and can only hear minor cuts and breaks. bruce thinks...of the pit...

and stops himself. and in a moment knows he's gone too far because he knows that tim would never want that. he wouldn't want the pit. and so...with a heavy heart bruce calls it off. tells the others to stop their desperate search for a cure or a fix. they have to accept this. tim is still alive, he's still tim. the brother and son they all love so much. and tim might be a little hurt and a little less of himself but that doesn't mean they love him any less.

so they have to try, to try and adjust to how things are now. it's easier than they thought it would be. but also hard in ways they hadn't expected.

tim had a temper sometimes, tim was a grouch in the mornings, tim got angry and always knew what to say to hurt someone, tim was independent, tim was private, tim was funny, tim was rude, tim stood up for himself, tim never hesitated to call them out on their shit.

tim was an incredibly self sufficient person. he was like a plant that could go months without being watered and it wouldn't die. he was resilient. and they didn't realize how much tim was away and absent until they saw him each day to help him. bath him, dress him, feed him.

tim isn't fully helpless. there's some element of cognition he retained given that he still refuses to eat the navy beans that alfred makes for lunch one day. tim has preferences, things he likes and wants and enjoys. it's easy to love tim like this. he's so...simple. so easy to please and make happy and ask for forgiveness.

dick holds and kisses the top of tim's head all afternoon while movie after movie plays and tim doesn't fuss or whine once.

damian finds it easy to endear tim to him by offering little gifts. chocolates, candy, stuffed animals. things that make tim trust him without a second thought and it soothes some hurt indignation inside him that had always simmered because he and tim had never really fallen into that easy relationship once damian had stopped wanting to kill him.

jason...jason finds an ease at being with tim. a simplicity. he'd always harbored some suspicion towards the other. he was...conniving. sneaky. it was just hard to believe his words and not feel like he was being conned or used as some pawn in a bigger scheme because jason wasn't cooperative and when bruce wanted something that's what HE did and everyone said that bruce and tim were so similar...

maybe it's cruel. fucking disgusting even. but...jason likes tim better this way. tim's capacity for trickery has been greatly cut down. jason could ask if tim spoiled his dinner by eating chocolates when he wasn't supposed to and tim would clutch a stuffed hippo close and say he didn't, all while melted chocolate would be smeared on his lips and cheeks. tim is an open book. and with a family full of bats its a breath of fresh air. even alfred isn't fully transparent. with tim there's an honesty between them.

tim is different now. softer, weaker...sweeter.

they get used to him fast. tim requires more careful attention but its nothing they aren't willing to do.

until dick goes to get tim dressed for the day and finds his panties soaked through and tim making soft sounds and pressing his thighs together.

and bruce tells them that tim may have become changed mentally but his body is still very much that of a young adult. that he has needs and desires even if he can't understand them or do anything about them.

and they try to ignore it initially. dick cleans between tim's legs and ignores tim's soft noises and the wet stickiness coating his thighs. they ignore the soft slopes of tim's body, the hard ridges and lines of him having softened from retirement.

tim grows agitated, frustrated, upset. bruce already had tim on birth control because the pain of his period would just confuse and cause him unnecessary pain.

so..jason brings up a possible solution. an idea. there are...toys they can give to tim, things to help him along. tim's clearly in discomfort.

and they do. they try to offer them but tim doesn't understand what to do with them. he gets frustrated, upset.

so...they need to help him. just like how they have to help tim in other ways now they have to help him like this. if that means they help part tim open and press a toy in before turning it on so tim can squirm and writhe on it well, that's just part of the job.

they escalate without realizing it.

sometimes they're out in the garden or on the couch in the sitting room, or in the library and tim gets needy... but they don't want to go all the way to tim's room where they store his toys. so...they just use their fingers. their hands are clean so it should be okay and tim seems to enjoy it so much more. he's curled up close and weakly clutching at their clothes while they press fingers in and gently rub at his front- so they keep doing that until they suddenly they don't use the toys anymore.

damian is the one who gets curious. he's young, he's horny, he's curious- they really should've realized that. and damian after having his fingers dripping and hand drenched with tim's..release. he grows...curious. the smell, the taste...

before he knows it he's using his mouth on tim instead of his fingers and tim just likes it so much better. he gets all sweet and pliant afterwards and damian likes seeing the different reactions so he keeps doing it until dick finds him with his head buried under tim's skirt while tim squirms and whines on the carpet, his hands wrapped tightly around a stuffed giraffe.

damian doesn't get...grounded. but he is reprimanded by dick for allowing tim to lie on the floor which could hurt his back and for making tim's panties messy and not properly cleaning him up.

it progresses. it just does. suddenly dick is gently poking the head of his cock into tim, checking his reactions and whispering assurances and telling tim that dick will make sure this feels good that he wants tim to know what this feels like because he will never have gotten to feel it otherwise.

sex with tim is nice, he's so vocal and doesn't hesitate to express how much he enjoys something which is refreshing. every person dick had ever fucked always tried to retain some kind of dignity or clung to the idea that they needed to pretend like he wasn't good at what he was doing to 'check his ego' or something. tim reaches for him, kissing at his cheeks, and whines so sweetly and breathlessly when dick presses in nice and deep filling up his baby cunt with cock. tim is tight and hot and so pliable and easy to move around into good positions and though dick may have been hesitant at first that changes after the first time he sinks his cock into tim with a thick wet sound.

it's good. it's nice. its addicting fucking tim. pumping their hard cocks into him, watching it disappear into tim's hot little cunt, pressing flush to his puffy lips, gently fondling his baby tits, and fucking him in all different ways until he's clenching hard and going 'ah ah ah' on their cocks while the head is pressed right against the entrance to his womb and their spilling ribbons of warm cum all over his walls.

tim is so much happier after they fuck him. he cooperates better, behaves better, has less tantrums, is more affectionate. its a win win for all of them.

the only rule to it is that they're not allowed to fuck tim through the night.

'you're robbing him of his sleep' bruce scolds them after tim can barely stay awake at breakfast because damian had kept him awake the entire night by fucking him. its the reason tim sleeps in bruce's bed with him at night, so none of them get any ideas and also so bruce can prevent tim from rolling off the bed.

it also means bruce is the first of them to get to fuck tim as soon as he wakes up when his cunt is all warm and wet. bruce enjoys fucking tim's thighs, not quite trusting himself to push in. he's significantly bigger than his sons after all, even jason doesn't try to work in more than half his cock. but tim seems content either way, laying under him, underwear and little shorts pushed down to his knees, shirt pushed up to expose little, pink tits. bruce coats his cock in wetness and fucks the wet seam, listing to the thick wet noises and squishes as tim whines and grinds up against him.

truly tim has never been happier. the family has never been happier, and bruce has never been more content.

he knew when he'd found that new villain's plans during his raid of the office building they worked to track down a different criminal that he'd made the right choice in stepping back. he'd considered how things would turn out and they'd far exceeded his expectations.

sabotaging tim's distress beacon to delay by half an hour once activated was the best decision bruce had ever made. tim had been making to many moves that had bruce tensing, making too much talk of perhaps moving to san francisco permanently.

no. at least this way bruce's family stayed together. and thats all that really mattered in the end.

[crimescrimson]

The Evil Within's Opening vs In-Game Scenes

[ultimateanna]

The Evil Within - Beacon Mental Hospital

[liaromancewriter]

The Next Chapter

Premise: Ethan looks back at the man he was through the lens of his apartment.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,955

A/N: I had this fic idea for a while and finally got the right inspo to write. It's not quite fluff and not quite angst. Just reflective.

I. 2013

Ethan Ramsey scrawled his signature at the bottom of a stack of forms, the pen's nib leaving a dot of ink in its wake.

Who knew becoming a homeowner involved so much paperwork?

He smiled absently at the realtor’s chirpy chatter but didn’t engage in conversation. His mind was on a case waiting for him at Edenbrook. The patient’s syncope didn’t have an apparent cause yet, and he mentally listed the diagnostic tests he needed to order.

“All done.” The realtor handed him an envelope with his copy of the deed, other forms, and a set of keys. “Congratulations, Dr. Ramsey!”

The keys gleamed brightly under the fluorescent lights for a second, a beacon beckoning him to his future. And then they were just keys, one to his brand new high-rise apartment in a newly renovated historical building.

The check he’d cut for the down payment had taken a good chunk of his savings. But, now that he was an attending physician and making good money, he could afford it.

The apartment wasn’t just a place to him. It represented who he wanted to become—a cultured and sophisticated doctor who enjoyed opera, owned several custom suits and dated beautiful women. All while solving medicine’s biggest mysteries and being written up in medical journals.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey was on his way to achieving everything he’d set out to do in life.

He didn’t have time—he knew he didn’t—but he couldn’t resist. Instead of heading back to the hospital, he turned his car toward Downtown, noting the changing vistas outside the windshield and the blend of commercial and residential buildings as they neared the waterfront.

He liked the busyness and pockets of quiet, the coffee shops and restaurants within walking distance, and parks and squares tucked away between buildings.

When he’d started his home search, he’d figured to find a place close to work, the West End or Back Bay. Nothing there had appealed to him, and he found himself losing patience. Out of desperation or perhaps fear of losing the commission, his realtor asked him to take a chance on a new listing near Faneuil Hall.

So, he went for the viewing, and, thirty days later, he signed on the dotted line. And another thirty minutes after that, he placed the key in the front door lock and entered his new home.

Ethan walked into the living room, his eyes drawn to the view outside. From here, he could see the boats bobbing gently on the harbor and the distant outline of the city’s skyline. He could already imagine mornings with a cup of coffee in hand, watching the sunrise, or evenings unwinding with a glass of wine, the glow of the city lights reflecting off the water.

He moved through the open-plan living area to the kitchen, where state-of-the-art appliances gleamed beneath soft lighting. It was a space designed for serious cooking, and the idea of preparing a real meal here, maybe even for someone else, crossed his mind—an unfamiliar thought that he quickly brushed aside.

Finally, he found himself standing in the bedroom and the wall of windows that offered a stunning view of the city. He could already envision a large, inviting bed, crisp bedding with muted colors, calming. Here, he could let go of the day’s stresses and recharge for the battles that lay ahead.

As he stood there, Ethan realized how much he had needed this—more than just a place to sleep, but a sanctuary. A space that was his, where he could shed the relentless demands of his profession and simply be. He took a deep breath, feeling a rare sense of contentment settle over him.

In an hour, the chaos of his life would resume. There would be rounds to make, patients to treat and mountains to climb. But right now, in this quiet stolen moment, he savored the promise of what this new home could mean for him.

And as he turned away from the window, Ethan couldn’t help but sigh wistfully. Maybe, somebody, he’d shared this amazing view with a woman he loved enough to let her into his life.

His inner cynic scoffed. Sure. And maybe someday he’d become Chief of Medicine.

Ruefully shaking his head at the absurdity of his thoughts, Ethan locked the door behind him and went back to work.

II. 2018

Ethan poured himself a glass of red wine and sighed heavily, shoulders hunched in defeat. He didn’t know how long he could keep going like this. He hadn’t slept more than three or four hours a night for the last few weeks and long hours had finally caught up to him.

Despite his best efforts, he wasn’t close to figuring out what was wrong with Naveen. If he didn’t diagnose the mystery illness soon, he’d lose him just like he lost Dolores.

He was forever destined to lose the people he loved.

When the knock came, even though he’d been expecting her, it startled him from his depressing thoughts. Setting the nearly empty wine glass on the counter, he walked to the front door to let Cassie Valentine in.

The headache he’d been fighting all day suddenly reared again. Rubbing his eyes wearily, Ethan motioned her inside.

“Rookie. Come on in.”

“Wow. Nice digs,” Cassie walked past him into the living room.

The surprised tone was the same as when she had commented on his car. He wondered what was it about him that made her doubt his financial worth.

He shrugged as she gawked at the quiet luxury of his furnishings and the stunning views outside. There was a time when this space had calmed him after a long shift. It had been a source of pride when he hosted a dinner party once with Naveen’s learned friends.

Now, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d stood where she stood and just took it all in.

He did so now, but if anything, it made him more sad. The plush furniture, the art that once spoke to him, the view that had sealed the deal when he bought the place—it all felt distant like it belonged to someone else.

When had his home stopped being a refuge?

“I’m barely ever here,” he said, feeling sadness creep up like an unwelcome virus. “Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

Ethan padded into the kitchen and poured wine into the empty glass, his mind again turning to the dark thoughts he couldn’t shake. He clenched his jaw at the feeling of powerlessness, the fear that no matter how hard he tried, he would always fall short and lose the people he cared about most.

“That’s… probably enough!”

“Huh?” Her exclamation broke through his distraction, and he glanced at the over-filled wine glass. “Oh, sorry.”

He passed the glass over and topped up his own, holding it up with a heavy sigh.

“To the unknown,” he said by way of a toast.

Cassie clinked her glass against his. “To the unknown.”

Ethan watched her as she wandered over to the windows, and an indescribable feeling spread through his chest. For the first time in a while, his apartment didn’t feel quite so empty, and he didn’t feel entirely so alone in his quest.

As he watched Cassie, silhouetted against the city lights, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to hold on—to Naveen, to himself and to the life that was slipping through his fingers.

But for now, all he could do was take it one breath at a time, one step at a time, and hope that somewhere along the way, he’d find the strength to keep going.

III. 2022

Weak sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and dust motes swirled in the air. Ethan stood in the center of the now-empty living room, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. The silence surrounding him wasn’t sad but poignant, marking the end of an era.

Once adorned with carefully chosen artwork, the walls were bare, the furniture that had filled the room now gone, leaving behind a hollow shell of what had once been his sanctuary. Moving boxes were stacked against the wall, waiting for the movers to transport them to their new home.

Cassie was in the bedroom, finishing up with the last of the boxes, but Ethan couldn’t bring himself to join her just yet. Instead, he lingered, taking in the space that had been his home for so many years, a place that had seen him at his lowest and, eventually, at his happiest.

He glanced over at the large windows, where the view of the city and the harbor stretched out before him, just as stunning as it had been the day he first walked in. But it wasn’t the view that held his attention now—it was the memories this place had held.

This was the apartment where he had spent countless sleepless nights, drowning in work, in doubt, in loneliness. It was where he had fought to keep himself together, to push through the pain of losing loved ones, to find answers for patients.

For so long, it had been a place of solitude, where the silence weighed heavily on his shoulders, where he had hidden from the world and from his own fears.

But it was also the place where everything had changed.

He smiled to himself, a small, bittersweet smile, as he remembered the first time Cassie had visited his place to discuss Naveen.

This was where they had shared their first real conversation, where she had seen him at his most vulnerable and hadn’t turned away. It was here that she had shown him that he didn’t have to carry his burdens alone.

And he recalled vividly the night she barged in before her ethics hearing and accused him of being indifferent to her. That night, he’d finally let go of his inhibitions and made love to her without regrets.

This was the apartment where their relationship had blossomed, love gradually replacing the emptiness. It was where he said, “I love you,” the first time to a woman. He had been confident but also afraid of how everything would change with three simple words.

He remembered the night he proposed to her in this living room. She was teaching him to decompress over Chinese takeout and a slapstick comedy on TV. She had been laughing as he cursed at the antics on the screen, and he blurted out, “Marry me,” never more sure of anything in his life.

She said yes, but for a second he’d worried she wouldn’t, and the future he could clearly envision would be a figment of his imagination.

And now, that future was here.

As Cassie emerged from the bedroom, carrying the last box, she caught his eye and smiled, a knowing look that told him she understood exactly what he was feeling. She set the box down by the door and walked over to him, slipping her hand into his.

“Ready?” she asked softly.

Ethan took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the apartment one last time. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. “I’m ready.”

This place had been so much more than just a home; it had been a chapter in his life, one that had shaped him into the man he was now.

But as much as he had loved this place, as much as it had meant to him, Ethan knew it was time to move forward. He had a new home waiting for him, one that he and Cassie would make together.

This might be the end of one chapter, but it was the beginning of something even better.

-------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[heartbreakgrill]

stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 9- “killing me slow, out the window. i’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone.”

a/n: EEEK! one more after this cuz i’m a lying liar and can’t stop writing.

stiles leaned his chin against his fist, staring out the window of the second floor room in the hospital. outside, the sun was setting. the rain poured down in a thick stream, bouncing off the pavement. lightening crashed through the sky every so often, and more than once, the lights had flickered. stiles was on the edge of his seat, anxious. he hoped this was just a storm, not anything deeper than that.

down below, the parking lot was sparse of people. cars pulled in and out while the time dragged by. but, it was an unusually quiet night for beacon hills memorial hospital. outside of y/n’s room, stiles ears were only occasionally prickled by the sound of shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors. the stillness made him nervous.

stiles took another deep sigh. his chest lifted with the effort, falling as he let the air out of his nose. his eyes followed a car as it rolled into the parking lot. then, bored of the sight, and restless in his nature, stiles’ turned his knees back towards the hospital bed behind him. his gaze rolled over y/n, who was still just laying there. she was blacked out and a breathing mask sat overtop her face. an iv drop was attached to her left hand. a thin, scratchy hospital-issued blanket was tugged up to her chin, but overtop, stiles had lay his hoodie on her. he’d wanted to run over to her house, grab a blanket, a pillow from her room. but, he didn’t want to leave her sound.

stiles leaned forward, rested his elbows on the edge of the bed, and picked y/n’s hand up off of her stomach. he’d shifted between this exact position, staring out that window, and pacing the room so many times in the last 24 hours. he didnt know what else to do with himself. the nurse on duty kept assuring him that y/n would wake up, at any time. that y/n would be alright, so long as she woke up tonight. it didn’t necessarily mean y/n would be dying- but, that’s when they should all be concerned.

as if stiles didn’t have enough to worry about.

after all, his dad was missing. still. and they had no new leads.

scott had headed to derek’s loft, to warn him about jennifer. that was just a few hours ago. he hasn’t received any updates on the situation. and this storm was intensifying his anxieties.

then, stiles also wasn’t sure where anyone else was- but he just hoped that they were out looking for answers. no one was responding to his text messages.

he wanted to be out there, helping, but when scott had offered him to come to derek’s loft- stiles said no. stiles didn’t want to leave y/n alone. besides, he was paralyzed by the situation. he already lacked any physical enhancements that would offer up any sort of help to the situation. and, now, he was mentally unstable, as well. he couldn’t stopped crying, couldn’t stop his breath from quickening every few minutes. it was taking all of his energy to not crawl up into himself and panic until he wasted away.

the girl he loved was nearly in a coma, and his dad was missing. the

if only she were awake…she would say something, anything, that would help him. she would remind him of his strength and perseverance. she would hug him, kiss his cheek, and make him feel, for just a minute, that the world was simple. that he could get his dad back.

right now, he felt so hopeless.

the only thing that kept him going was the hope of her opening her eyes, squeezing back his hand. it pushed him forth.

it helped, too, that no one else had been taken, quite yet. once they were, once two more guardians were reported missing- that’s when stiles knew his dad was going to die.

stiles brushed his thumb across her knuckles, a pattern he found some grounding root in, and sniffled. he pressed their joined hands to his forehead and leaned his head down. holding back a sob, stiles stuttered out, “i don’t know what to do.”

as if a prayer was being answered, he felt y/n’s fingers twitch between his own. he quickly lifted his head, snapping his gaze to her struggling face.

y/n squinted her eyelids, her vision blurry as she tried to pry open her sight. the fluorescent lights burned her tired, weary eyes, only making her struggle more. it took her more than a moment to adjust, but when she did, she had to process a lot of information. first, her gaze latched to her body- the hospital gown and blankets were itchy against her skin, and she could feel the iv digging at her skin. the breathing mask was restrictive over her face, but the air pumped into her lungs felt so fresh. mostly, what she felt was pain- her legs hurt, her ribs ached, and her head was pounding.

she slowly regained control throughout her body. it was that buzzing feeling one normally got after this leg fell asleep- staticky and nerve-prickling. eventually, her fingers twitched, her toes wiggled, and she was able to take in stiles. he perked up as her eyes fell onto his, immediately jumping from his chair. he never let go of her hand, even as stiles found the nurse’s call button and pressed it rapidly. he leaned his torso over her.

“oh, my god,” he breathed out, gratefully. more tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t care. stiles set a hand to her cool cheek, touch finalizing the fact that she was really conscious again. “you’re awake! thank god- you’re awake, baby.”

y/n wanted to say something, but her throat was scratchy from having not spoken for a day. there was, also, a mask prisoning her mouth. a small cough forced it’s way from her throat. stiles carefully pulled it from her face. y/n lay her hand over his, helping him move it. it left a red, dented mark over either of her cheeks. they slid their fingers into one another’s.

“wha-“ she coughed slightly, clearing her throat, “what happened?” short, fading clips rolled over her working memory, like filing cabinets rattling around, shutting and closing to quickly for her to grab onto anything.

stiles lay a hand on her face, unable to focus on her words, “i’m so fucking happy you’re awake.”

“stiles,” she furrowed her brows, “what happened?”

stiles was going to explain everything to her, though he was afraid. he was sure she didn’t remember of anything, especially everything he had told her before they went to the school. so, having to explain it all to her again, especially now that she had been nearly killed by the very thing stiles warned her of- would she reject him? would she want nothing to do with not only that part of his life, but him, too?

stiles didn’t know if he’d survived losing his dad and her all within the same day. he needed her.

just as he opened his lips, hesitant words waiting on his tongue, the nurse was rushing into the room. stiles couldn’t remember her name.

she looked more than concerned, clutching her stethoscope around her neck with white knuckles. when she saw y/n, eyes wide open, breathing mask in her hand, she flinched slightly.

she went to say something, too, but lightening cracked overtop of the hospital. it was loud, louder than the storm had been moments ago. and it sounded like the wind was crashing against the hospital in thick, tormenting waves.

“good thing you’re awake,” her breathy words fell into the air, a slight, nervous humor in her tone.

then, another lightening strike crashed, and the lights in the hospital blacked out. y/n instantly grabbed at stiles’ wrist, tight, and he slipped his fingers into her. y/n’s body was shaking.

“what’s happening?” stiles demanded.

the backup generator powered on. the lights were dimmer than before, and an alarm began blasting throughout the building. a warning. y/n flinched, again, at the sound, squinting her eyes shut and tilting her head away from the noise. her forehead banged against her skull.

“we have to go! they’re evacuating the hospital because of the storm. there’s an ambulance leaving in ten minutes, and another in twenty. we need to get you on one of them,” the nurse quickly shot to y/n’s bedside. she took the breathing mask from her hands and began moving the iv stand about. “do you think you can walk?”

y/n glanced at stiles, her pupils wide with fear. she shook her head, “i don’t know!”

“it’s okay,” stiles nodded once. he managed to keep his tone steady, reaching out to help her off the bed, “it’s okay. here.”

the nurse met stiles on his side of the bed. she carefully set y/n’s legs off the side of the bed, her feet barely touching the cold floor. then, y/n’s nurse quickly slipped the young girl’s pants up her legs, a pair of hospital socks on her feet. y/n gripped either of their hands as they helped her stand, their support also pressing onto her elbows. she hissed as she stood up, bunched over from the pain. her chin dropped into her chest. stiles securely held onto her waist, her hand squeezing tightly into his other.

“hold onto this,” the nurse wheeled y/n’s iv stand over to stiles. he hesitated, unsure of how he was going to manage that.

but, he wrapped a fist around it. as soon as he had he did, the nurse bolted out of the room to help other patients. stiles stared after her, jaw slack, and a little more than pissed off at her lack of beside manners. “ok, wow. um- okay, baby, okay…we’ve gotta go, okay?”

y/n looked up at him with a pained expression. tears streaked down her face, “stiles…i don’t-“

her knees gave out on her. y/n nearly collapsed to the ground, but stiles grabbed onto her waist. he felt her entire body shaking beneath his touch, both from the pain coursing throughout her injuries and her fear.

“hey, hey! it’s okay! hey, here.”

stiles carefully pulled the iv from the needle in her hand, then looped her arms over his shoulders. “please, baby, hold on to me, okay?”

he felt y/n nod against his chest, weakly. her hold tightened onto his neck. stiles crouched down an inch more so he could get his hands under her knees. he picked her up in his arms, more than surprised by his own strength. the machines beeped, wildly, as they lost connection to her body. but, that was just background noise. outside, he could hear dozens of people rushing past, the alarm still blaring.

stiles kicked the door to her room open, pausing as those people rushed past him, down the hallway, towards the elevators. the lights flickered again and everyone yelped in fear. stiles glanced down as he felt y/n’s hair tickle his neck, her head lolled into the corner of his shoulder. her eyes were squeezed shut, teeth ground together as she tried not to scream.

“okay, here we go, baby,” stiles pushed them into the stream of people headed for any and all of the exits.

patients, nurses, and doctors moved against him, bumping y/n’s legs every so often, offering no help to the situation. he cursed every time they hit y/n and stiles, because she hissed in pain as they bumped her injuries. stiles kept glancing down at her to try to ensure she was okay, so he nearly tripped over his own feet, numerous times. but, somehow, he managed to keep going.

just as they reached the elevators, the doors popped open, and stiles was met with the sight of derek, scott, and jennifer. anger coursed through stiles veins, and his eyes darkened. he clenched his jaw as he took a step back. why was she here, with them? why had they brought her here? stiles just knew this storm was because of her.

y/n rustled in his arms as she tried to lift her head. she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness. though she couldn’t really focus on anything happening- the lightening rattling the building, the chaos unfolding before them, the woman who nearly killed her standing the elevator- she could hear stiles’ heartbeat pounding against her ear. her fading consciousness was taken back to his jeep, his bare chest beneath her touch, his finger brushing patterns into her skin.

she heard his heartbeat quicken, his blood pumping angrily. she wanted to comfort him, remind him that it would be all be okay. they’d make it out. she’d live.

so, y/n wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck, tangling them into his hair. goosebumps rose beneath her touch. stiles felt his anger ease up as he focused onto her cold fingertips.

as a cooling breath fell between stiles’ lips, scott quickly ushered him into the elevator. the doors closed behind stiles’ back. and scott breaks the news to him, “the alpha pack is here. in the hospital.”

stiles shoots daggers at miss morrell, who is trying to avoid his gaze. if y/n wasn’t here, in his arms, he’d jennifer up against the wall, hand around her throat. he didn’t hear scott at first, not until his friend touches his shoulder. he meets scott’s eyes, “…they’re here? in the hospital? why? why are they here?”

“yeah,” scott nodded shortly, “but, that’s not the worst part. cora- she’s dying. but, jennifer says there’s something she can do to help. that’s why we brought her-“

“and we’re gonna trust her?” stiles’ voice rose, slightly, as he swung around to face the enemy. as he did, y/n groaned in pain. he was aware of himself, her in his arms, again, and quickly looked to see if she was okay.

scott could smell the fear and pain oozing off of y/n’s crumpled body. he set a hand on y/n’s knee, guiding stiles back to his side of the elevator, “here, stiles. i can help her.”

stiles met scott’s eye. he didn’t hesitate to nod, once, encouraging scott to take away her struggle, to allow her just a few moments of peace. the veins of scott’s hand then turned black, as the pain coursed from y/n’s body, into his own. stiles watched her face, brows lifting in hope as he watched the painful expression on her face fall. she relaxed back into his arms, the trembling of her body ceasing just a bit.

“there,” scott patted stiles’ shoulder. “that should help. but, you need to get her out of here. i don’t know what will happen if she gets stuck between us and the alpha pack.

“i know,” stiles lips trembled as pressed a kiss to her forehead. a tear escaped his head. then, he twisted his head towards jennifer. she finally met his eye, looking just a little uncomfortable. stiles frowned, “i know, scott. but- where’s my dad? where the fuck is my dad? does she have him still?”

jennifer went to respond, a cocky look in her eyes. but, the doors to the elevators opened, again. they had arrived to whatever floor scott had pressed the button for. stiles assumed it was where cora’s room was. scott stepped forward, bracing the situation with a hand atop the door so it could not close. it was relatively quiet on this floor, aside from the flickering lights, the blaring alarm, and the scattered patient’s charts across the floor. after their hesitation to gauge the situation, derek rushed towards cora’s room.

stiles didn’t really pay attention as scott and derek investigated. he kept a watchful eye on jennifer, gently brushing y/n’s hair from her forehead with a shaky hand. it was grounding, it helped him focus. jennifer met his gaze, again, a coy smile curling into her lips.

she narrowed her eyes and glanced down to y/n, “poor girl. how many broken ribs does she have? is she concussed, or no? what’s the state of our patient, mr. stilinksi?”

stiles licked his lips as his jaw rolled in frustration. his voice was low, “after you help us find my dad, i am going to kill you-“

“have her symptoms set in yet?” jennifer took a daring step forward, interrupting him.

stiles’ brows furrowed, just slightly, “wha-what? what other symptoms?”

y/n coughed, a movement that racked her entire body. jennifer flicked her brows up, as if she had been anticipating this. stiles glanced down at y/n, and noticed some black liquid lining her lips. she coughed, again, face scrunched in pain. a small trial of what stiles could only assume was black blood trickled down her chin.

stiles’ breathing hastened and he looked back up at jennifer, “what did you do to her? what the fuck did you do to her? you-you fix it! right now! fix her, or i’m going to tear every limb from your body!”

jennifer chuckled, “your threats don’t scare me, stiles. after all, you’re just a human. you’re nothing compared to scott. you don’t have claws or fangs.”

as jennifer spoke, she circled around stiles, forcing him to take small steps backwards, away from her threatening presence. he looked to scott and derek, who were fighting for their lives. he was on his own.

“you just have your annoying sense of humor, your inability to ever stop speaking. and, now,” she gestured at y/n with an amused expression, “a dying girlfriend.”

stiles sneaker skidded against the linoleum floor as he backed up out of the elevator. he looked down at his feet to keep his trembling balance. and, when he looked back up, the doors of the elevator were slowing closely. jennifer was getting away.

“good luck!” she waved slyly.

behind him, scott, derek, and the twins continued fighting. their mangled roars were evident, now, as stiles’ focused shifted from jennifer to their chaos. he glanced down at y/n, heart thumping wildly, now. the black blood was coating her chin, bubbling between her lips. but, she was still passed out.

stiles could no longer manage his anger. it was coursing through his veins, white, hot. he felt like he would explode.

so, stiles carefully set y/n on an abandoned hospital bed that was pushed up against the wall. he tried to roll her into what had been cora’s room, just to get her out of the way, so he could focus his anger towards something useful. but before he could, ethan and aiden threw a piece of fallen ceiling towards them. stiles barely managed to dodge out of the way before another piece followed the other. he came back onto his feet, quickly, rushing to y/n’s side. he used every ounce of strength to push y/n’s bed inside the room. his sneakers squealed against the floor. then, stiles heard a roar, and he looked up again, just in time.

the anger was heating up his reddened face, now. he searched for a weapon in the hallway, something to not only defend himself with, but something to fight back.

ethan and aiden were running towards him. stiles cursed under his breath as they neared. he found a pipe, ripped from the wall, on the floor by his feet. stiles gripped it in his fists and, with the strength only ever garnered by a boy protecting someone he loved, stiles hit the werewolves over their stupid, conjoined head.

they were sent, toppling, down the hallway. scott and derek rounded the mound of mangled skin and bone, glancing between it and stiles with an astounded shock.

“nice going,” scott held out a fist for stiles’ to pound with his own. instead, his friend pushed it away, slowly.

stiles looked up at scott with a crinkled expression, tears welling up in his eyes, “she’s dying, scott.”

–

the world came crashing down around stiles. he didn’t know what to do.

scott abandoned his friend, running off with deucalion to try to get answers to solve their problems. he instructed stiles to get y/n to dr. deaton- but he wasn’t going to help. stiles tried not to focus on his frustration that came from scott’s willingness to leave him, alone, with a dying girl- and not just any girl, but stiles’ girl.

so, stiles focused his energy on quickly awakening derek, hoping he would help get her to the animal clinic. he knew he would run into troubles, and he needed a werewolf on his side. after all, jennifer was right. he was just a human. he didn’t have any powers.

but, derek simply scooped up cora, and prepared to leave the hospital.

stiles stood in the door of the elevator blocking it as derek pressed a button. he demanded derek to help him. “derek!” stiles begged, voice less assertive, but more so just weak, “please! you have to help me! she-she’s dying! you have to help me!”

“i have to help my family first,” derek set cora against the wall of the elevator. he stepped forward, a hand raised in a move to shove stiles out of the way.

but, instead, stiles gripped at derek’s hand, a weary, bargaining look in his eyes, “you know i would help you! derek- you know i’d help. we can take them both there-! cmon, derek. pls-please?”

derek hesitated as stiles’ tone cracked. it seemed like he might, maybe, help stiles. his hesitation gave stiles a glimmer of hope. but, then, derek glanced over at cora, at the black blood pouring out of every crevice of her body. he ripped his hand from stiles touch, “i can’t.”

he refused to meet stiles’ sad eyes as he backed up into the elevator. stiles was frozen. derek thought he would have to shove the boy from the elevator, but, after a second, stiles took his own step back. his body was slack, still.

he was alone.

just as the doors began to close, derek finally met the burning gaze coming from stiles’ dark eyes. “you know i’d help you, derek.”

derek’s head dipped low.

tears streamed down stiles cheeks, a silent cry that took up every ounce of energy he had left. stiles watched the elevator close, secure and tight, hands slack at his sides. all of a sudden, a scream rose from his throat. stiles kicked at the stupid metal box, hard, yelling loudly.

a sob racked through his body as he turned back to y/n. stiles ripped his hands through his hair, kicking ripped pipes, pieces of ceiling, skidding them across the floor.

stiles came to slouch on the edge of her bed. he wanted to just lay at her side, content to suffocate within her shadow. he didn’t even know where to begin. he didn’t know how to get her out of here, to the animal clinic.

the police were here. the storm had blocked off several roads. jennifer was running loose again. the alpha pack was still on the prowl. stiles’ dad was missing.

and y/n was dying.

he at least knew the end goal, which was better than nothing- get her to the animal clinic. but, he had so many obstacles in his way. so many obstacles that required supernatural abilities he just did not have.

stiles slowly turned his head to y/n, shoulders dropped, head hung low. he brushed his finger across her temple. he smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “i’m so sorry,” he lips blubbered.

stiles felt like he had failed her. no- he knew he had failed her. because he had. “i’m so sorry, baby.” stiles crouched over her body, his head in the crook of her still neck, sobbing like a baby.

he’d gotten her caught up into this mess with his stupid lies and manipulation, when he could have just told her the truth. all of this could have been avoided. but, now; she was on her death bed. and it was all his fault.

he had killed her.

stiles stared at her for a while, maybe just a few minutes, admiring her peaceful beauty. he ran his fingers over her cheeks. he’d been in this position so many times before. but never like this. his chest, though filled with fear, mourning, made some room for the love he felt for her. because he did- he loved her. he loved her so much.

his mind raced, as he wondered when it was that he finally realized he loved her.

had it been the time she met his dad? when she sat with them after her shift and ate dinner? when she spoke of her dream for after high school, when she shared the most intimate details of her hopes? he remembered how much his heart had swelled as she talked. she was so smart, so intelligent and creative. he knew she had a bright, hopefully future outside of this stupid town.

or had it been the week earlier, when he had gone to her house for just a hook up. they watched a movie, some stupid, pointless movie that he talked through the majority. he kept looking over at her as she giggled, face lit dimly by the television. his chest constructed each time she laughed. everyone always thought his jokes were dumb, but she- she laughed.

then, they had sex, and stiles felt her in his bones. he felt her fingers like they were apart of his own hand and he felt her breath strung against his rib cage. she was becoming his, and he was becoming hers. they were each other’s, a rare but beautiful, promising thing. in this world, in this town- it was everything.

maybe that was it. maybe that was the moment he knew. when he realized she was everything to him.

stiles lifted his head, an energy pulsing through his bloodstream. maybe he didn’t have supernatural abilities. maybe the road ahead seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, he’d die at her side- but he would only die trying. for her. always for her. everything for her.

anything.

he knew, now, that he could do this, even if he had to go it alone. but, he wasn’t going to have to.

stiles lifted y/n, carefully, in his arms, again. her head hung over his arm, arm strewn towards the ground. stiles knew she was fading fast. he had to go- now.

but, then, the elevator bell dinged.

stiles looked towards the sound. a small ounce of fear itched at his brain. he didn’t know what was awaiting them on the other side of the doors.

then, they opened- and he breathed a sigh of relief.

allison, danny, and isaac stepped into the hallway, determined looks on their faces. danny drug his eyes from stiles, down to y/n. he took a deep, nervous breath, before met stiles’ tearful gaze, again.

“well,” danny spoke, a little fearful, but confident in his tone, “are we gonna save my best friend, or what?”

stiles nodded, once, “yes, we are. i have to tell her. i need her to know that i love her.”

[teencopandthesourwolf]

THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN EVERY EPISODE OF TEEN WOLF EVER

part i (part ii HERE)

17 different heart attack-inducing storylines all overlapping with one another with some genuinely excellent concepts and lots of cool af lore that's executed so terribly it convinces you that whomever is in charge must surely be a hamster

werewolves and teenagers alike with some seriously debilitating mental conditions running around like they're contestants on the wheel of fortune

scott pining loudly over allison, pre or post allison's death, regardless of who he is dating at the time

beautiful beautiful derek "my whole family died and i'm being soso brave about it and trying to make myself a new one by collecting teen misfits and putting them in a plastic tupperware box but forgetting to poke holes in the lid bc i'm on the spectrum and trying to process and deal and grow as a person is really tough when life keeps getting harder instead of easier and will somebody please PLEASE just give me a break" hale.

deaton being a smug little twat

STILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTILESSTI

greenberg being the star of the show

lydia slaying

everybody apart from stiles running around like headless chickens while stiles tries to tell everybody what they need to do but none of them ever listen to stiles so stiles has to do something drastic and dangerous then everybody is all like OMG STILES WHY DID YOU DO THAT THAT'S SO DRASTIC AND DANGEROUS WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU and stiles has to try his best not to eviscerate every single fucking one of them bc he is a good friend to scott

jeff davis doing his doggone constipated best to debunk sterek by writing dialogue/giving directions that hilariously just ardently confirm sterek even more with each epically gay scene

scott sending out thee biggest punch me i'm a motherfucker vibes

AUTISM

danny mahealani stealing the hearts and minds of young and old alike

dylan o'brien being extremely kind by trying his absolute best not to show up all the other actors with his scene-stealing, oscar-worthy performances every second he is on screen and failing miserably.

scott ignoring his phone

mama mcall being so real and a milf

derek's eyebrows being an actual main character

scott auditioning for a new cutting edge reality tv show show called: GIVE ME A NEW PERSONALITY BEFORE SOMEBODY ENDS MY LIFE FOR ME!

boyd being better than everybody else

57% of scenes being filmed in beacon hills high school

41% of scenes being filmed in beacon hills hospital

peter hale, cunt, rocking your world whether you like it or not

(part ii HERE)

[eevylynn]

Tiny Spark, Mighty Flame

Sterek || eventual Alpha Werewolf Stiles [ao3]

Among born werewolves, it was common knowledge that the prime age for a human to endure the bite of an Alpha and survive was typically during their teenage or young adult years. In fact, the youngest recorded case of a bite resulting in a transformation and not death was previously eleven years old, so imagine the Hale pack’s astonishment when they learned of a small seven year old who was bitten and miraculously survived, challenging the known boundaries of possibility.

Chapter 2 - Perception Ignited

The late afternoon sun broke through the thick canopy of trees on the long, winding road through the dense preserve casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on Roscoe. The lush green leaves danced in the gentle breeze, creating a picturesque scene of nature's vibrant beauty. The summer heat wrapped itself around the vehicle, adding a sense of warmth and anticipation to the air.

Seated in the backseat, Stiles' imagination soared amidst the seemingly surreal surroundings. His young mind, now awakened to the existence of supernatural beings, conjured images of mythical creatures running alongside the car. Perhaps a majestic unicorn with a gleaming horn or a fierce griffin soaring through the sky? Stiles yearned to encounter these fantastical beings, unsure of which ones were mere legends and which ones held the truth. Now that he knew werewolves were real and that he himself had become one, his entire world, his very perception of reality had forever shifted. Anything seemed possible, and the boundaries between the ordinary and the extraordinary blurred in his mind.

Stiles marveled at the fact that he had been discharged from the hospital yesterday after being there for only a day. He’s still amazed at his own healing. He pulled his sleeve up to look at his arm where the giant werewolf had bitten him and still found it astounding that there wasn’t a single trace of injury.

When they had arrived at Beacon Hills Medical Center two days ago, Melissa McCall happened to be on duty, a stroke of luck that would prove crucial. It was Ms. McCall who first noticed something extraordinary about Stiles' injuries - they were healing at an astonishing rate. The sight both relieved and alarmed the Stilinski family and the medical staff, leaving them bewildered.

Unbeknownst to them, Alpha Talia Hale had cultivated connections within the medical center staff, ensuring that she would be promptly informed of any supernatural occurrences. As soon as she received word of Stiles' condition, she wasted no time and made her way swiftly to the hospital. Talia sought out the bewildered parents, Noah and Claudia Stilinski, to deliver the astonishing truth: their son had been turned into a werewolf.

With utmost care and compassion, Talia explained the physical implications that Stiles would now face, including the transformations, the influence of the full moon, and his heightened senses. She also shed some light on the intricate dynamics of werewolf packs and the profound impact they have on the mental and emotional well-being of their members. Overwhelmed and nervous, the Stilinski family found themselves grappling with the magnitude of the revelation. Noah especially struggled to accept this new reality unfolding before him.

Being a parent herself, with three children of her own, Talia could relate to the stress and uncertainty that accompanied such circumstances. She provided them with her personal contact information and assured them that she would be available whenever they needed assistance, guidance, or simply a compassionate ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on.

As the jeep came to a halt in front of the imposing Hale house, Stiles glanced up and caught sight of a boy not much older than himself standing at one of the upstairs windows. His black hair framed his face, and thick eyebrows added intensity to his piercing green eyes. Though Stiles couldn't comprehend the significance of the moment, he felt an inexplicable pull toward this mysterious boy. With a friendly wave, the stranger acknowledged Stiles' arrival as the younger boy climbed out of the old jeep. Stiles grinned and waved back.

“Mischief,” Claudia called softly, gaining the boy’s attention, and he joined his parents as they headed to the large covered porch.

By the time they reached the stairs, Talia had already opened the red door, ready to greet them with a tall teenager standing at her right that had the same long dark hair and dark eyes as her mother.

“Welcome to our home!” the Alpha said regally. “This is my eldest, Laura,” Talia added, gesturing to the girl next to her. “She has recently started her training to take over as Alpha after myself, so she wanted to join us. Laura, this is Deputy Noah Stilinski and his wife Claudia.”

Talia paused before crouching down to be level with Stiles as she continued, “And this little one here is our newest pack member, Mieczysław.” 

Stiles blinked and raised his eyebrows over at his parents at the correct pronunciation of his name. No one outside of their family had ever been able to say it correctly before.

“Nice to meet you all,” Laura said kindly, “especially you, Meechslav.”

Noah smiled at Laura’s stumbling, “You can call him ‘Stiles’ if you want.”

“I am so sorry!” Laura looked horrified, like she had offended them or something, “I’ve been trying to practice saying it. Everyone has the right to have their name pronounced properly.”

Claudia put a calming hand on the girl’s shoulder, and replied, “Sweetie, we appreciate it. Honestly!” She added, seeing Laura about to interrupt. “Mieczysław was my father’s name. They were first generation immigrants from Poland, and, trust me, as a native speaker of the language, I completely understand that most Americans would have issues pronouncing it. Even my little Mischief here has problems saying his own name at times.” Claudia smiled down at Stiles, running her fingers through his shaggy hair. “For the longest time, he pronounced it ‘Mischief’, which is both adorable and, admittedly, accurate,” Claudia laughed lightly and everyone joined in.

“Stiles was originally my own father’s nickname,” Noah added, “so in a way, he’s named after both of his grandparents. We won’t be offended which you choose to call him by. You’re good. I swear.”

Talia smiled at Stiles, still crouched next to him. “What would you prefer, pup?” she inquired softly.

Stiles fidgeted as all eyes turned towards him. He shrugged, “Stiles is what everyone at school calls me.”

“Stiles it is!” Talia said cheerfully before she stood up, clapped her hands once and motioned for everyone to head inside. “How about we show you guys around real quick while Elijah finishes up lunch.”

[continue reading on ao3]

[sterekchub]

A03 is still down and I'm going crazy and craving some Hale family angst so: Some Peter/Stiles. BUT IT GOT OUT OF HAND and is 99% plot and 1% kink. Really, I just wanted Peter Hale a little gassy with a beer gut and stretchmarks and Stiles is very, very into it. And a little h/c because werewolves shouldn't GET stretchmarks but...Peter still has scars that haven't healed, so his stretchmarks don't either. Soulmate AU - less relevant about soulmates and more for kink and plot. Also ….a restaurant AU because I have a problem. And the timeline has changed a little bit to adjust the ages so - Peter gets a lonnng coma. Stiles like 25, Peter around 40, so fire happened when Stiles was 14, Derek was 16, and Peter was around 30? IDK

Stiles is born with his soulmark so- he has no idea if his soulmate is around his age or older. But obviously Peter's shows up only when Stiles is born so, he knows he's got almost 15+ years on his soulmate, making him about the same age as his niece and nephew. It's not the most reassuring and Peter sort of resigns himself to a very lonely future until his soulmate is of age, and even then, the age gap doesn't reassure him they'll be a good match

And then the fire happens. The Sheriff pulls Peter Hale out of the fire and sees his son's name written on arm, and knows his son has Peter written in the same spot on his. It's a tough conversation with Stiles when he's old enough to know. It's years of therapy, of the Sheriff and therapists telling Stiles he can't sit in a hospital room waiting for someone who won't wake up. So - Stiles moves on. Dates other people who have lost their soulmates. Stops visiting Peter daily and only comes every other month. The best thing he can tell himself is - at least he knows who is soulmate is.

Stiles' graduates decides he's had enough of the violence and changes his major from criminal justice to culinary. Opens the Full Moon diner in Beacon Hills - a safe haven for the supernatural, starts a foodbank and soup kitchen a few doors down.

Peter wakes up almost 10 years later - and nearly kills a nurse because he asked about his family and she immediately dropped on him how many years have past, most the Hales are dead, the house is gone…Peter has nothing left. They sedate him - and Peter has the last fleeting fear they must know he's a werewolf, why else would the sedative work? And then nothing.

He wakes up handcuffed to the bed with the Sheriff sitting next to his bed. And Peter is a total ass and threatens to burn down Beacon Hills until his anger burns away to be completely lost and replaced with total hopelessness.

The Sheriff tells him a family friend has kept everything in order for him. Gives him an address and an apartment key. All his bank accounts and license are still kept active and waiting there. Basic clothes and necessities. The file on the fire. The death of Kate Argent, pictures and some postcards from Cora and notes from Derek. The obituaries of the Hales. The location of the burial plots. Whatever was left from the Hale house and vault.

Also tells Peter to head to the Full Moon diner a block away, ask for Stiles and get a warm meal.

He expects a cold sandwich at most, when he quietly tells his waiter to ask for Stiles and says he has no wallet on him. "Stiles" looks barely into his 20s, and when he asks Peter what he wants and he can't bring himself to care or expect much. Just asks for a water.

Stiles brings him a hot sandwich, soup, a coffee, a soda, water a slice of pie…tells Peter no worrying about deciding. He can try it all. *****************

And then some plot (a lot of plot) Sheriff and Stiles have gone through all the same supernatural stuff, know most of the Hales are werewolves from what Derek's told them. Stiles' dad doesn't tell Peter his son is his soulmate. And warns Stiles to not immediately drop that on him. Besides him already processing a lot - coming out of a coma just like that is….there's no guarantee he'll mentally come back from it.

Peter keeps coming back to the diner - on his good days. Most days, he can't bring himself to leave. He'll sit on his bed and stare blankly for hours. Spends days awake when he's afraid he'll go to sleep and wake up and find he's back in the coma. Other days he goes into such a rage he claws at the walls of his apartment and punches the concrete until his hands are raw and bloody. On the bad days. Stiles drops off a week's worth of nicely packaged meals with little notes on them. Sometimes it's only a smiley face, other time it's movie recommendations, sometimes it's important cultural events he's missed. One day it's a therapists business card. Another time it's a little wolf plushie. Peter goes to therapy. Turns to using food to cope, because there's something that feels safe and warm and caring to him about Stiles making sure he's at least eating. He starts leaving notes back to Stiles, telling himself he'll say thank you in person when he feels healed enough. Even if he's not sure when that will be. After inhaling so much wolfsbane in his lungs, Peter doesn't heal right. He heals faster than a human, but not what a wolf should. The scars stay. He grows a beard to hide them. As he puts weight back on from the coma, and then piles on a bit extra with Stiles' constant catering, he notices light stretchmarks showing up across his middle. He isn't sure how to feel about it. ****************** And then romance happens...somehow. Peter goes into the diner more often to see Stiles. Thanks him for the care packages. Stiles fills Peter table with food, seemingly unsure how else to help him, but looks immensely pleased when Peter eats most of it. Peter starts coming daily for months. Then one day he doesn't show for a week. Comes back and apologizes to Stiles that it was the birthday for one of his nieces. Stiles tells him it's okay, it's fine, he can't imagine what Peter went through, and he's...here for whatever Peter needs. Admits Peter is his soulmate and Peter tells Stiles he knew. Polish first name was the first clue- but there's no one else in the town who cared about Peter that much, he knew there had to be a reason. He's sorry Stiles had to wait that long. ********* AND FINALLY KINK:

Peter gets therapy. Stiles spends months reassuring Peter that he doesn't care about the age- admits he's got a bit of a daddy kink and now that Peter has the *daddy* vibes and a hairy, hefty stretchmark ridden belly to match? Stiles is INTO it. He's a little proud and for sure a little smug when Peter blames those stretchmarks on Stiles and his cooking. Or Peter when he eats his feelings and gorges on Stiles' food until his stomach is rumbling and protesting and gassy? Stiles hands him another plate and promises to get him off if he finishes all of it.... They properly date. Peter uses food as his therapy- less nightmares about being in a coma when his gut is stuffed and stretched and feels like he's going to burst. It's a good sort of pain - that reminds him he's awake and alive and he has a mate who is very enthusiastically feeding him more.... And Peter eventually goes back to his cocky self. Snarking at Stiles to bring him more food. Or "try not to pop me, I have enough stretch marks as in" even though Stiles knows Peter LOVES it. The bigger, the better.