#iidiiotiiciintelliigence

[veryace-ficrecs]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)  

Blinding by rei_c - Rated M

"What's changed is me, I think," Stiles says. "Pack-adjacent used to be enough. But now I know that the only thing mimicking the bonds enough that they can't tell something's wrong is me and I'm doing it because it's easier to let -- easier than telling them," he says. "I'm worried. That I'd lose it. The pack."

But Stiles doesn't care about the pack, not if he's already come far enough to practically exile himself right out of it. There's only so much magic can do to create fake bonds after a statement like 'they're not my pack.' So why would he -- "You'd still have us," Derek says.

 I Need an Adult by AlexTheShipper - Rated G

Stiles has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders since that night in the woods. He was beaten in a basement, and abandoned by his friends and at this point he just wants his dad to make things better. So, he calls him. 

 Snakebites and Stardust: The Birth of a Genius Loci by rei_c - Rated E

"I'm going to go," Stiles says, "and you aren't going to stop me because you want me gone as much as I want to leave."

The sheriff flinches but doesn't argue, simply steps to the side and asks, "You have a plan?"

"Ten," Stiles says. "I'll let you know in August if I'm coming back."

or,

After the nogitsune, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills to figure out who and what he is. It takes a long time to find answers.

Sharing Is Caring by clotpolesonly - Rated G

Laura groaned again, even louder. “Why does this have to be so complicated and difficult? I swear, I just need one guy who absolutely will not fall in love with me. One guy!”

“Good luck with that,” Derek said. “You are, statistically speaking, very lovable. At least, according to single men.”

“Clearly, which is really just not fair. God, this would be so much simpler if I could just borrow a guy who’s already taken and then return him when I’m done. No chance of feelings then! Wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with me if he’s already in love with somebody else.”

Struck by a sudden inspiration, Laura reached over her head to slap Derek on the arm a few times. “Hey! Hey, Derek, let me borrow your boyfriend!”

 “What? Laura!”

It's The Cocoa by clotpolesonly - Rated G

Laura just wants to sleep, but that can't happen with the guy in the apartment below her blasting the most depressing playlist she has ever heard. This guy has officially perfected the art of the breakup playlist if he's managing to make a proud aromantic tear up in sympathy. It's impressive, really, but that doesn't mean Laura isn't going to give him a piece of her mind. 

Sit by Me, Talk to Me (Just for a Moment, Please) by Therapeutic_Steter - Rated T

iidiiotiiciintelliigence asked: Some of my favorite AUS are of the "Stiles visits Peter in the hospital while his mother is there" variety. I adore them and I don't think there are enough of them in the world. 

What's in a Name? by Therapeutic_Steter - Not Rated

Always use a nickname. 

Calm Before the Storm by FaeryQueen07 - Rated G

Stiles isn’t sure where Derek and Isaac are—or Scott, now that he’s decided he no longer wants to be in Derek’s pack—when he pulls up in front of the Hale house, but they’re not who he’s looking for, not this time. Peter is on the porch by the time Stiles climbs out of his Jeep, the door with its unfamiliar mark shut behind him, and they stare at one another for several long moments. 

Turn off Shut down by azerblazer - Rated M

"Stiles!" Derek barks out, pained and confused. Stiles merely shakes and begins to unzip his hoodie in a hurry, treasured red sweater given to Peter and then his two shirts are shucked off. Scott knows that no one else in this clearing has seen Stiles shirtless.

Every time he does there's a strange mix of awe and fear.

A Picture in Time by AlexTheShipper - Rated G

Stiles goes back in time to save his pack mates, even if his pack never exists because of it. Step 1, kill Kate Argent. 

Something to Pay Attention to by AlexTheShipper - Rated T

Stiles is just a kid, but he knows there are no wolves in California. So, why are there howls every month on the full moon? And why does Cora Hale tense up when he mentions werewolves? And why is Derek Hale getting coffee with that weird teacher lady? 

A Different Kind of Person by RebaK1tten - Rated T

Stiles is ten, his mother is dying, his father isn't dealing and he spends a lot of time alone. Tonight, it's a good thing when he goes to spy on the Hale family. 

short conversations about sex demons by sinequanon - Rated T

Stiles Stilinski is not an incubus. He isn’t. Now if he could just get the Hale pack to leave him alone... 

Plot Twist: Jackson and Isaac Choose Stiles by Sempiternal - Not Rated

Just a little a one shot. Scott kicks Stiles out of the pack, and surprisingly, Jackson and Isaac have something to say about it. 

Sacrificium by KouriArashi - Rated T

Stiles is willing to do anything to get his father back. The one thing he won't do is wait. 

Rescue Plan by sir_yessir - Rated T

"We're screwed," Scott says, thumping his head against the wall of their concrete cell. "We're so totally screwed." In which Stiles saves the day because everyone else is totally useless.

[chokememrstark]

I love the idea of Loki being a singer. His voice is absolutely beautiful, and it is the one thing he has never enhanced with magic, and he never will. His music is his escape and to have it taken away from him would be terrible. And then I think about the punishment given to myth!loki, the one where his lips are sewn shut as well as the end of Avengers... - up-to-date!Loki Anon

Sssssssshittttt

Okay, you might not know this, but I am extremely weak for myth!Loki and especially for him getting his lips sewn shut. This would be so utterly cruel and I can see the scene where Thor takes him back right in front of me, but instead of the muzzle his lips are sewn shut and oh my god, it hurts so much. And I need it!

I don’t know how much it will be but I would SO write something for this if you don’t mind! Probably just a drabble, but the idea is so heartbreaking and perfect.

[therapeutic-steter]

Honestly??? The Craigslist one is my favorite so far. It was Great!

Thank you so much! I had a lot of fun writing that one actually, especially the ad part, lol. I love Peter and Stiles being sassy ;) 

[frostironficrecs]

I'm wondering if you could help me find a fic? It's a fic where Loki, Tony, Thor, and Steve and put in separate rooms. The kidnappers took the arc reactor and Loki needs to be close to Tony to stop the shrapnel, but they won't let him get close. So Loki sneaks out to see if he can get them out of there somehow and finds out that the kidnappers want to see something delayed from Tony and loki. The plan ends up being that Loki pretends to rape Tony (completely consensual). Once free, they date.

by the second sentence i knew exactly what fic/series you were talking abt and i managed to find it in a relatively short amount of time!! wonder of wonders!!

Hand In Mine (series) by Arkada. The first fic in the series is exactly what you described, and then the following fics detail the aftermath of everything.

(first fic does describe what is definitely seen as a non-con scene in other characters eyes, but it is really truly all consensual. they are in a cell w nothing to really aid them so there isnt proper prep and such, but they do the best that they can.)

[stetervault]

Was wondering if you have some recs for protective caring Peter taking care of stiles? I’m a sucker for the hurt/comfort.

Also I have to tell you I love your blog here and your stories on Ao3 are wonderful. I’ve read so many of them.

I feel like there's a lot of fics that fall under this genre, and there is actually a very specific tag for it but I don't think many people remember to use it, which sucks. I've dug up some that I think fit your parameters tho. Hopefully there are some you haven't read yet. Warning for some that have a darker tone to it, as in yes, Peter is protective and caring but also possessive and not-so-morally-upright about it, but that's, you know, pretty normal.

Keep You Like An Oath by Green

After 7 years in prison, Peter has important matters to attend to — and at the top of his list is the young mate he left behind, unclaimed for their own protection. But, for all his good intentions, Stiles has always needed him — now more than ever.

-0-

Promises by Green

Peter's courting gift is a second chance for Stiles's sick mother. It won't last forever, but it's precious time they wouldn't have otherwise.

Stiles is a just a kid, but he knows a good deal when he sees one.

-0-

Venus in the Rising Sun by Green

Stiles asked Derek to be his heat partner and quickly lost track of him. Now Stiles is pregnant and alone, but when he goes looking for Derek he finds something else entirely.

For Peter, it's practically love at first sight. He just has to get past Stiles's defenses.

-0-

Love me slow, hallucinating by glossary

Summer eats up the town that year. There are strange rainfalls at night, made up of warm water like cooling blood but sweet on the tongue. Peter takes to running into the forest every night, the roadmap of his veins sparking with electricity, alight by golden lanterns. Even in the dark the shades of green look saturated, false in their impossible aliveness: long swaying grass and soft moss covering the trunk of tall trees, moonlight through glossy green leaves and the scent of freshly turned earth. In the afternoons he leans out of the window of his flat and inhales deep to swallow the smell of hot asphalt and growing things. Inevitably, he gets hungry.

Or: After the Nogitsune, Stiles begins to unravel. Peter enjoys pulling the strings (so he can tie them together).

-0-

The Chasm and the Clash by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Stiles has dreams of the Alpha after he dies. It makes no sense. He didn't know Peter before... did he?

Did Peter know him?

And why does his head hurt so much?

-0-

trusting and choosing by finnickyfox

“I wanted to see what you’d do,” Stiles says. Peter holds off on handing over water—the truth sounds better in a hoarse voice. “You stayed. You had my back.”

Eyelids flutter open at half-mast, a deep honey stare before Stiles closes them again as he turns his chin and bares his neck.

—

Stiles offers Peter a chance to be an Alpha again if he gets Stiles out of Beacon Hills.

-0-

Inside I'm Screaming (Make Me Real) by Therapeutic_Steter

anonymous asked: how about: after the kanima attack stiles decides he's over being undervalued and not cared for by scott and peter comes and cares for him, and stiles ends up joining dereks pack.

-0-

Hold My Hand by Therapeutic_Steter

iidiiotiiciintelliigence asked: Sort of a spin off of the blind Stiles fic: "uh stiles, I'm over here. What's up with you lately? It's like you can't see or something." "... You do relive that I'm blind, don't you Scott?" In which the pack don't notice when stiles loses his sight for some reason (genetic or curse so it isn't obvious) and Peter was the only one to help him through it

-0-

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

-0-

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

-0-

If Tomorrow Never Comes by gryvon

Stiles should know better than to trust an offer that seems too good to be true, especially when it comes from Erica. He's supposed to be staying in Erica and Boyd's apartment, not this stupidly ridiculous Hale Pack mansion with Sentinel Prime Peter Hale, who Stiles has an enormous crush on.

-0-

Beautiful Like Birds by Whispering_Sumire

"Stiles?" he asks, turning on the light, and Stiles looks at him- eyes wide, a flicker of utter devotion and heartbreaking joy passing his features before his whole face crumples and-

"Daddy?"

John has never seen his son like this, or maybe he has, when Claudia died, but it's different somehow, more, and terrifying because he has no idea why. He's closed half the distance between them before he even has time to think it through, but it doesn't matter because Stiles has bridged the rest and flung himself into John's arms.

He falls apart like that, holding onto John so tightly that it's hard to breathe, but he can't care about that right now because his son is sobbing and chanting "Daddy," desperately into his shoulder.

[Or, the one where Stiles goes back in time to save the world, and surprisingly, survives to tell the tale.]

-0-

Bedtime Stories by Whispering_Sumire

"It's — growing pains. This is me getting stronger. I have evidence. I won a spar. The score is 60-1 or something but I won one. So. There."

"... I suppose some congratulations are in order?" Peter says, half-mocking drawl.

Stiles flips him off. Makes pathetic noises when all of his muscles protest at once.

A fingertip grazes his and — "Wow," Stiles breathes, dazed, as his pain begins drifting away on a cotton candy cloud of childish-shiver ecstasy. "Don't stop. Do not ever stop."

"That's quite a request. And quite a unique position to be requesting it from."

Stiles lifts his head up - with miraculous ease - and glares at the middle-finger currently cosying up to Peter's black-veined pointer. He feels dangerously close to pouting. He doesn't want to lose the werewolf-mojo, but Peter is kind of right.

Peter heaves a sigh before Stiles can come up with something probably stupid and says, "Would you like a massage, Stiles?"

[And maybe this is where their love story started, or maybe it started with breaking and entering and a few pranks, or maybe it started when they first locked eyes on one another. However it started — here's how it goes.]

-0-

Let Me Run Away With You by Whispering_Sumire (Steterek)

"So," Peter says, after an hour or so of driving in tense silence, "I assume we're going back to your beloved Beacon Hills?"

"No," Stiles tells him, without even looking up from the restorative paste he's administering to Derek's wounds. And isn't that surprising?

"No?"

"I took the GPS out of Roscoe and I hacked into some of your accounts to get him travel-ready. I don't care where we go Peter, but I don't want to go back to Beacon Hills," there's a desperation in his voice that makes Peter's skin crawl, though he has no idea why, "please."

"Okay," Peter agrees softly.

[Or: The one where Stiles is in a very bad place, and Peter and Derek manage to unwittingly save him from himself while he saves them from themselves.]

-0-

Protect Me by syriala

The first time Stiles had gotten hurt for the pack, for Scott, had been by Gerard during the kanima mess. And even back then no one but Peter had noticed.

-0-

Beauty In His Eyes by Whispering_Sumire

"Take me away," Stiles breathes when Peter opens his door.

He's soaked through, heavy rain drumming against the stiff line of his shoulders, mud cached up his pants, his arms, teeth-clacking, bone-clinking shivers wracking harshly through him. He feels cracked open, desperate, hollow, and there's a tight, blistering ache in the back of his throat begging him to cry, to spill out all his secrets, his terror, his misery.

"Alpha," he murmurs, crumbling, nearly whisked away by the harsh winds, and Peter's eyes go molten, from ice to lava in a split second, the liquid magma in those irises so entrancing that Stiles, roughly, helplessly, raggedly, repeats what can only be a benediction, "Alpha."

Peter growls, rough and low, and drags him inside, shutting the door behind him a little gentler than he'd expect, but then, Peter is always doing things gentler than he'd expect.

He fucking drowned him gentler than he would've expected, and isn't that just... his life in a nutshell.

[Or: Peter is protective and violent, Stiles is fucked up but surviving, and they elope to canada to see the northern lights.]

-0-

love is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe by lavenderlotion

He's had a day. A...just a really challenging day. Not all days are bad, especially not lately, but. Hormones suck. Testosterone sucks. Sure, it's the best thing that's ever happened to him, but his face won't stop breaking out and his voice won't stop breaking and Stiles' body has been aching for the last three days. He got into another fight with his dad which is just...it is what it is.

But he needs a break, and Peter has always meant easy bantering and, more importantly, safety.

-0-

Breathing You In by lavenderlotion

“Good morning, kiddo,” his dad said, and the words hurt.

All Stiles wanted to do was step forward and let his dad hug him, allow his father to give him comfort. His father's hugs had always been all-encompassing, the way he would fold himself around Stiles and hold him as tightly as he could.

Stiles stepped around him, careful not to let foreign skin touch anything that was special to him.

Anything he loved.

-0-

The Devil You Know by Twisted_Mind

He’s so tired, in every way it’s possible to be tired. He tried going for a walk tonight to prevent a panic attack, and ended up being rescued, dazed and bleeding, by Peter Hale. There are so many things wrong with that sentence he doesn’t even know where to start. Panic attacks. Being stuck inside his brain sucking so hard he needed to be alone and moving. The sense of relief that came with crashing into Peter. He shouldn’t be okay with this. He didn’t give Peter permission to sleep in his bed. His dad will be home soon. Peter’s more than a decade older than him. Peter can’t be trusted.

But he’s tired, and this feels so, so good.

-0-

Your Bruises Drive Me Insane by 100percentfluffster

They always seemed to forget that Stiles was human. In some manners at least. Scott and Derek always went on about how he was too fragile to be helpful. That he was a liability and the weak link of the Pack, but that awareness of his fragility seemed to always disappear when it came to their own aggression.

A story of how Peter notices the way the Pack treats Stiles and does everything he can to step between Stiles and further harm.

-0-

Weak by syriala

Stiles just wanted to sleep. His head was hurting, and he was pretty sure he had more than one cracked rib, and maybe even a cracked cheekbone. He couldn’t be sure, not without an x-ray but he wouldn’t go to the hospital. His dad was already worried enough, Stiles didn’t need to add this to his list.

-0-

Drooling by syriala

Stiles was exhausted when he entered Peter’s apartment. School had been hell, lacrosse practice had been brutal, and all Stiles wanted to do was sleep. But there was a new threat in town and he and Peter needed to do some research.

-0-

Looking After You by Slayer_of_Destiny

Can Peter be a chance for Stiles, can Stiles be a second chance for Peter? When Peter offers Stiles a relationship will the younger man take the chance with the werewolf?

[sandwitch-watermage]

Getting to know eachother

Tagged by @iidiiotiiciintelliigence :)

Ships (ones on my mind right now anyway) Zukka, Ineffable Husbands, Bluup

Last song: Barbara 2.0 from the Beetlejuice soundtrack

Last movie: Uh, The Girl With All The Gifts?

Currently Reading: Baking With Kim-Joy

Currently watching: Good Omens, She-Ra, and listening to The Magnus Archives

[lgbtqia-moodboards]

Demifluid Demiboy LunarPunk Moodboard for @iidiiotiiciintelliigence by Mod Taylor <3

[purecanesugar]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Dragon!Stiles, Mates, Creature Stiles Series: Part 6 of Prompt Fics, Part 1 of Scale Tales

Summary:

iidiiotiiciintelliigence asked: Oh my gosh. Dragon Stiles is fantastic oh my god. But I've only found a few fics of it, which sucks. So: "Peter had been losing shirts lately. Well. Not so much as loosing as having them stolen out from under his nose." AKA. Dragon Stiles steals Peter ' s clothes and stuff because he likes his scent.

[ao3feed-peterstiles]

Hold My Hand

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2zEVYqs

by Therapeutic_Steter

iidiiotiiciintelliigence asked: Sort of a spin off of the blind Stiles fic: "uh stiles, I'm over here. What's up with you lately? It's like you can't see or something." "... You do relive that I'm blind, don't you Scott?" In which the pack don't notice when stiles loses his sight for some reason (genetic or curse so it isn't obvious) and Peter was the only one to help him through it

Words: 3156, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of Prompt Fics

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)

Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Hurt Stiles, Blind Stiles, Scott is a Bad Friend, isaac is a good friend, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2zEVYqs

[help-im-homestuck-blog]

What happened when our Spanish professor gave @iidiiotiiciintelliigence a marker…

[ask-polyamory]

Haven’t uploaded for a little while since I’ve had very little time to get on the pc and draw (i have no clue if you guys like my traditional art or not orz)

But here’s a little Mattie who’s hopefully gonna be part of a redraw from this post! (so old oh gosh) But i guess at this point i can’t really gaurentee anything since my exams are priority right now! I’ll continue to try my best for you guys and for these guys!!

On a side note I’m gonna put February’s most active users (in no particular order) under the cut! If you guys want to send any requests in for Fan Friday let me know :)

@themoosenswear

@hetaliaboy

@sailormelanin

@ask-polish-fairy-feliks

@jarlos-ft-rubelangel (I saw your message very late but thank you for your support and I appreciate your love for this blog <3)

@3rr0r-z

@ask-hitman-amelia

@iidiiotiiciintelliigence

Thank all of you so so much you’re all such little cuties (i get kind of excited when I see some of your urls not going to lie) I hope you all had a wonderful February and if there’s anything you’d like for me to draw I’ll try to whip something up for Friday! Keep being perfect you guys <3

[morenotles]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Hurt Stiles, Blind Stiles, Scott is a Bad Friend, isaac is a good friend, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John Series: Part 24 of Prompt Fics Summary:

iidiiotiiciintelliigence asked: Sort of a spin off of the blind Stiles fic: "uh stiles, I'm over here. What's up with you lately? It's like you can't see or something." "... You do relive that I'm blind, don't you Scott?" In which the pack don't notice when stiles loses his sight for some reason (genetic or curse so it isn't obvious) and Peter was the only one to help him through it

[therapeutic-steter]

Some of my favorite AUS are of the "Stiles visits Peter in the hospital while his mother is there" variety. I adore them and I don't think there are enough of them in the world.

I can definitely agree with that! Ihate that Peter was left to rot in the hospital all those years without evenone visitor. It’s no real wonder he went mad.

—–break—–

It’s too loud. Everything is too loud.His mom is yelling, screaming that he’s trying to kill her, the nurses areshouting, trying to get a doctor and trying to get his mom to calm down, themachines are beeping, a baby a few doors down is screaming, someone’s crying,and his heart keeps beating in his ears, a never-ending loud thump thump thumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

Stiles ran, ducking away from theprying eyes and dodging the unknown hands that reached for him. He slipped intoa random room, closing the door and slamming his back against it. His breathingwas fast, irregular, and he scrambled to get the inhaler out of his pocket.

His heart was still beating rapidly ashe finally managed to gasp in a breath of oxygen, taking measured puffs fromthe inhaler before finally trying to breathe normally. His limbs felt shaky andhe slid to the ground, curling his arms around his legs and feeling the stingof tears prick his eyes.

He loved his mom. He really did. Butthe woman who he came to see every day was not his mother. That woman wouldeither stare blankly at him, eyes fogged up with whatever medicine the doctorshad given her, or would scream at him, accusing him of trying to kill her. She wouldeven attack him if he didn’t get away from her fast enough, throwing things andslapping him, pulling his hair, scratching. It’s why he had his hair buzzedoff. It’s why they don’t let him see her without supervision anymore. ButStiles was stubborn, sneaky, and he lovedhis mom. What if she came back? What if she woke up one day and recognizedhim? What if she really was his mom again?

Stiles was beginning to doubt that wasever going to happen though. His dad and the doctors wouldn’t tell himanything, but Stiles wasn’t a stupid kid.

Stiles’ lower lip wobbled and he foughtback sobs, wiping at his face angrily and trying to figure out where he was. Itwas really too quiet here, much quieter than a normal room. Even when his momwas sitting still and silent, there was still the constant beep of the heartmonitor, the whirl of oxygen, the buzz of IVs.

The room looked just like any other,but Stiles didn’t see anyone. He thought at first it was empty until he stoodand walked a little further into the room, startling when he saw the loneoccupant sitting in the chair by the window.

“Sorry!” Stiles yelled, ducking downand waiting for reprimand. He peeked his eyes open when none came, looking overat the man again. “I didn’t mean to come in without asking,” Stiles spoke,stepping closer. The man remained silent though, sitting still just like hismother did when the doctors had just given her a strong dose of medicine.Stiles studied him curiously, pausing when he saw the pale blue eyes thatseemed to stare right at him and also at nothing.

The man had horrible scars on his rightside, from burns maybe? Stiles wasn’t sure. He wasn’t moving though, barelyseemed to be breathing, and Stiles bit his lip unsurely. He glanced at thedoor. He probably shouldn’t be in here. He was invading this man’s privacy andhis dad told him all the time at he was too curious, too nosy, and he needed to learn to respect people and their privacymore.

“I should probably…” Stiles began,before pausing. His eyes caught the empty vase sitting on top of the dresser inthe corner and he turned, really taking in the entire room. It was empty. Otherthan the basics the hospital automatically provided, there was nothing. Noflowers, so pictures, no letters. No ‘Get Better’ balloons or stuffed animals.Just…bare.

Stiles looked back at the man. Who washe, he wondered. Why did he have no one to come visit him? How long had he beenhere? How long had he been sitting, alone, just as he was now?

Stiles winced when a suddenear-splitting scream from down the hall echoed through the hospital. That wasdefinitely his mother. She screamed bloody-murder, not even trying to makewords, just screaming. He heard more yelling, doctors and nurses trying tosecure her. Sadly he was used to the sound. His mother has started randomlyscreaming even before his dad had agreed to commit her.

“Do you mind if I stay here for awhile?” Stiles asked, looking back at the man. “I don’t like seeing my…thewoman who used to be my mom like that,” he murmured quietly. It was the firsttime he’d put words to his fear, that he didn’t think she was coming back.

The man didn’t move, didn’t make asound, but Stiles felt something almost…welcoming embrace him. An aura, maybe?Stiles had read about those. Yes, the man had an aura of welcoming.

So Stiles climbed onto the spare chair,the legs creaking as if from disuse. Then he did as he’d always done.

He talked.

He told this strange man about his dad,his best friend Scott, Mrs. McCall who was one of the best nurses here. Hetalked about school, comic books, his thoughts on aliens, the Google spiral he’dfallen into last week when he’d learned all there was to know about makingsoap. Anything to keep the quiet from returning or to keep from approaching thesubject of his mom. He liked to think the man appreciated having something elseto focus on instead of the silence as well. He hoped so.

Stiles glanced at the clock after awhile and noticed it was nearly six. His dad got off his shift then and wouldusually drop by the hospital to pick Stiles up a few minutes after that. Hestood, stretching from sitting still so long, and he had to grab his chest as aflare of unnatural panic overcame him.

“What—” Stiles gasped, eyes widening asfear and loneliness crashed into him. Dread. Anxiety. Desperation.

Stiles looked up and met thenow-familiar blue eyes that looked just as blank as before and yet also so veryfull of life.

“Woah, calm down,” he breathed,reaching out to grasp the man’s hand on instinct. The unnatural feelings ebbedoff, but Stiles was oddly still aware of them. “My dad will be here to pick meup shortly so I’ve got to go, but I come by after school every day to see mymom. I…” Stiles glanced away, unable to look at those eyes that seemed to laserin on him. “I don’t really like sitting with my mom every day because sheeither yells at me or isn’t really there, so I’ll come by and see you, if that’sokay?”

Wonder. Nervousness.

“So weird,” Stiles muttered to himself,rubbing at his chest where his heart fluttered strangely. He didn’t understandany of this. The strange atmosphere thatthis man emitted seemed to only get more and more confusing.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Ipromise.” Stiles grinned easily, surprised to have genuinely enjoyed visiting withthe man, even if he had just been talking by himself for over an hour. Hesqueezed the man’s hand one last time before turning for the door.

…

Peter watched the boy leave until hewas gone from his sight, unable to turn his head to watch for those last fewseconds before he opened the door and slipped out. His wolf howled in his mind.Desperation and loneliness had truly overcame him if he was already formingpre-packbonds with any living body that ventured into his room and remained foranything beyond the barest of necessities. He felt exhausted, even if all he’ddone was sit and try to focus on the words that had flowed from the boy’smouth. Normally his sense of consciousness flowed in and out, unable to focusor really discern just how much time with passing. Any waking moment was just amoment of agony, having been culled from what was left of his Pack andabandoned to his wounds. It’d been nice, to have a moment of reprieve.

He hoped the boy would return. He wouldjust have to trust that he meant his promise. He sent one last flutter of feelingacross the pre-bond to the boy just before he got too far.

Peace. Anticipation. Hope.

[keydekyie]

Did you ever post your book on deviant art? Because I remember reading it a few years ago and loving it before it disappeared.

(I hope it’s okay to publish this ask! It’s a good opportunity to explain some thingies. And to everyone:If you were a fan of the dA draft and truly can’t afford the price of the book, please PM me!)

Yes! Years ago I had the very rough draft on dA. People enjoyed it and that was encouraging, so eventually I paused work on part II (when I realized the plot had gone “meh”) and over the course of a few years I worked on editing part I, rewriting things and adding stuff that I’d missed in the first draft because I was rushing. Last year I quietly took that draft and part II down from dA so I could publish the finished, polished story on Kindle without any confusion between the two versions.

Thank you for reading my rough draft, I’m glad you liked it! I’m sorry it’s not available anymore, but if you liked that, the story is pretty much the same only way better in every way.

As I said in a journal on dA: “To people who have bought the book, started it, and then got confused because it’s not what they remember from the draft: I rewrote the entire beginning! The rest of the story is basically the same but with more fun stuff like world building, interactions, conversations, and a scene where Kaelin tries to go outside but Ruyak chases her down. You will love it!“

Right now I’m working on book II, which will be very different from the part II draft that was up on dA. Not a lot of planning went into that draft and the plot suffered for it. The new version will be much better. When I’m starting to get to a point where the draft is cohesive, I’ll be looking for Beta readers ;D

[therapeutic-steter]

Sort of a spin off of the blind Stiles fic: "uh stiles, I'm over here. What's up with you lately? It's like you can't see or something." "... You do relive that I'm blind, don't you Scott?" In which the pack don't notice when stiles loses his sight for some reason (genetic or curse so it isn't obvious) and Peter was the only one to help him through it

I’m not sure if you realized how angsty I would go with this one, butboy did I. And I did go in a little bit of a different direction (it’s not genetic or a curse), but I did get in the quote. Poor Stiles; I’m so mean for someone who claims to love him. Thank you for the prompt!

—–break—–

Stiles groaned, hanging limply in the chains as the hunter punched hisside again. Stiles was sure he felt something crack that time, but his entirebody was in so much pain that one more agonizing thrum wasn’t going changemuch. His head was where the real damage was. He felt like the hunters hadslung him around like a sack of potatoes. Both his eyes were swollen to almostshut and his temples throbbed.

“Wolf fucker,” the hunter spat in his face, hatred gleaming in hiscrazed eyes. “You’re a traitor to your own damn species.”

Stiles would’ve been more impressed if he could actually see, but atthe moment all he could see were floating lights and moving shadows. God, hewas exhausted. He wondered how much longer the pack would take.

“Listen to me when I talk!”

Stiles stopped breathing at the blow; the hunter had backhanded hisface. Every inch of his head screamed in agony and Stiles whined wordlessly.His hands shook uselessly as he tried to block his face but the hunter onlylaughed. He reached out, grabbing Stiles’ ear and pressing the side of his faceagainst the wall behind him. He grinded his face against the rough stone withhis hand, laughing obnoxiously. Stiles saw stars.

He definitely had a concussion, he thought as the hunter finally bored oftorturing him and walked over to where his buddies were. There was a goodchance he had some cracked ribs, maybe broken, who knew? The pain in his chestwith every inhale certainly meant something bad. His eyes were so swollen hecouldn’t even blink, dryness and pain making tears stream down his face. Hewanted to curse the bastards, but his mouth felt wrong, numb and heavy. Hewondered if they’d drugged him and, if so, what they’d used. He wondered howmuch longer he would last, if the pack would arrive only to find his dead body.

He shuddered, tears welling up again. It didn’t help his already blurryvision. He hated this. He wanted to go home.

“Quit your whining!” a hunter yelled and Stiles flinched, immediatelyregretting the move when sparks of agony burst along his ribs. The hunterschuckled amongst themselves and Stiles hoped they all burned.

…

Stiles wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, but he’s say at least fourdays. Four days of mindless beatings, unpredictable behaviors, yelling, pain.Where the fuck was the pack? How long did it take to realize he was gone? Tofind him?

Stiles shook when a bucket of cold water was thrown over him, shiveringuncontrollably. His teeth chattering made the pain in his head so much worsebut he couldn’t control it.

“Filthy bitch,” the hunter spat. Stiles tried to lick the droplets ofwater still clinging to his lips, almost crying as the few drops were notnearly enough to quench his thirst.

“Rodney,” a man called from up the stairs. The hunter that had thrownthe water on him looked up. Stiles still couldn’t see clearly; he couldn’t tellyou one minute detail about him or any of the other hunters. They were allmoving shadows of pain with floating bursts of light dancing between them.

The hunter Rodney walked away, leaving Stiles alone to the darkness.

Stiles cried.

…

A howl woke Stiles up. He jerked within his binds before groaningweakly as the movement jarred his wounds. The howl turned into a growl, soundsof a fight erupting from upstairs. Stiles winced with every gunshot, prayingsilently that his wolves would win. Because it could be no one else. It had to be his wolves.

Soon, the sounds shut off and Stiles was left in the silence. Thebasement door crept open and Stiles looked toward the sound, unable to make outanything other than the light.

“Scott?” He called out, tongue heavy and voice scratchy.

“Stiles?” A voice called out, familiar though it wasn’t Scott.

“Peter,” Stiles gasped, tears of relief flowing.

The man rushed to his side, carefully brushing his fingers down theside of his face. Stiles flinched, but then melted in relief as the paininstantly drained from him.

“Thank you,” Stiles breathed, and Peter reached up to unchain him,easing his arms out of the binds and messaging them gently to get the bloodflow back.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Peter said, and he actuallysounded concerned.

“Yeah, probably,” Stiles agreed. His head felt light as blood startingflowing to his limbs once more and he collapsed into Peter’s arms, groaning. “Ithink…I’m going to pass out now,” he managed to say, before falling into thedarkness.

…

Stiles woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor.

“Stiles,” his dad said as soon as his eyes fluttered open, gentle handsbrushing back his hair. “How are you feeling?”

Stiles blinked, just able to make out a shadow leaning over him. “Dad?”he asked, hand shaking as he reached up to try and touch the man. John tookStiles’ hand when his strength almost gave out on him. “Dad, I can’t…I can’tsee,” Stiles said, and the beeping got louder. “Why can’t I see?” he cried,scared. The shadows were converging upon him now and the shadows always broughtpain. He yelled when hands pushed him down, lights swimming around and shadowstalking without faces. “Daddy!” he screamed, terrified, before a sharp pricknicked his neck and he was put under again.

…

Rhegmatogenous retinal detachment. That’s what Stiles had. Basically,it came down to extreme trauma to the eye causing a tear in Stiles’ retinawhich allowed fluid to get behind it. Then it separated the retina from theretinal pigment epitheliam, which is what provided the retina with nourishmentand oxygen. Because of the length of time it took Stiles to get to the hospital—turnedout, it had taken ten days for Peter to find him; Stiles didn’t ask why Scottor anyone else from the Pack hadn’t visited and didn’t know if he wanted to—hismacula had been severely damaged as well. The doctor said he could operate, butthat the likelihood of recovering his full vision was slim to none and that hewouldn’t recommend the type of major surgery involved when the prospect was so thin.So Stiles was left to a world of shadows and light.

Stiles sat in silence in the hospital bed long after the doctor left.John was at his side, biting his lip in concern. Peter knocked lightly on thedoor before slipping in.

“Peter,” John greeted, more so to let Stiles know who had entered.Stiles tilted his head in the man’s direction but didn’t speak. Peter took thechair on Stiles’ opposite side, leaning forward and crossing his fingers inthought. “I’m assuming you listened to all of that?” John asked, lookingunsurprised when Peter nodded.

“Why did it take so long?” Stiles finally asked the question that hadbeen worrying him from the very start. Peter sighed and John’s hand squeezedStiles’ supportively.

“It took us almost three days for us to find out who had taken you. Anotherday to find their base, though that wasn’t where they were keeping you. Scottwanted to make a deal to figure out where you were, but the hunters keptstringing him along. I…may have threatened to kill him to get the Alpha powerso I could save you and he kicked me out of the pack meeting after that.” Peterhung his head, roughly running his fingers through his hair uncharacteristically.“I went to John with what we had on the hunters—Scotty hadn’t wanted toinvolve humans, but honestly, I was beyond caring—and your dad led a…special team on a search and rescue.”

Stiles clutched at his dad’s hand, breathing shakily through his nose. “Isee,” was all he said, processing. He reached out towards Peter’s shadow andthe man offered his hand, letting Stiles hold his hand securely. “Thank you,”he said, looking in Peter’s direction and hating that he couldn’t meet the man’seyes. He’d never be able to again. He fought back a sniffle, closing his eyesand trying to control the emotions welling up within him. “Thank you forfinding me.”

“Always,” Peter vowed, chastely brushing his lips against the back ofStiles’ hand.

“I also might have decked Scott when he tried to visit you the firstnight you were here,” John spoke up. “In case you were wondering why he oranyone else hadn’t come.”

Stiles laughed without humor, shoulders shaking as he held back sobs.He nodded deliriously. “Yeah, I was wondering.” He exhaled slowly, looking downand seeing nothing. “This…is going to take a lot of time to get used to.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Peter said, thumbbrushing back and forth over the skin of Stiles’ hand.

“He’s right, kiddo,” John said, cupping the back of Stiles’ neck andpulling him into a hug. “You take your time, but I have absolute faith that youcan overcome this.”

Stiles clutched at his dad’s shirt, crying into his shoulder. He neverlet go of Peter’s hand. Peter never made him.

…

“I can’t believe you’re going to hang out with him,” Peter said,standing at the stove and tossing the stir-fry.

“We’ve been friends since kindergarten, Peter. Scott’s fucked up, but I’vefucked up too. He apologized and we’re taking it slow. I wouldn’t trust my lifein his hands, but that’s what I’ve got you for, Creeperwolf.”

“You’ve never fucked up anywhere near how Scott has,” Peter mutteredunder his breath before moving the pan off the stove and spooning the stir-fryonto three beds of rice on three plates. He dutifully ignored how Stiles’blatant admittance of trust in him made something in his chest flutter, warmwith emotion.

“Don’t forget dad gets wheat grain rice,” Stiles called out.

“I know, Stiles,” Peter said, rolling his eyes fondly as he covered theplate intended for the Sheriff and then grabbed both Stiles and his own plateover to the table.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, flushing adorably. The boy still got a bitflustered whenever someone helped him with things he used to be able to dohimself, not that Peter blamed him. He was glad they’d even managed to get tothis point and that Stiles was comfortable enough with letting him do thingslike cooking for him. In many ways, Stiles could still take care of himself,but being near a burning stove was not one of them that he or the Sheriffwanted the boy to try.

“Don’t know how dad and I ever managed without you,” Stiles said,grinning cheekily around a mouthful of food. He moaned exaggeratedly at the tasteand Peter cuffed the back of his head familiarly.

“Brat,” he accused affectionately.

Stiles blew him a messy kiss, food and all, and Peter wrinkled his nosein disgust, shoving a napkin into his face.

“Disgusting,” he grumbled, and Stiles laughed. Peter treasured thesound.

…

John dropped Stiles off at Scott’s with no small amount of trepidation.He’d not been sold on Stiles’ attempts to mollify him to the idea of him givingthe other boy another chance and he wasn’t too keen in letting Stiles out ofhis sight so soon. He trusted Peter to keep Stiles safe, but beyond that, hewasn’t trusting any of the so-called Beacon Hills’ Pack. Who knows how muchfaster they would’ve found Stiles had Scott not drug his feet trying to playperfect hero and instead let someone qualified to take care of those issuesdeal with it?

He hoped his son knew what he was doing, but Stiles had always been alittle too forgiving when it came to Scott McCall.

Stiles knocked on the McCall’s door, something he hadn’t done in years.He heard the sounds of someone bounding down the stairs before the door openedand Stiles could just make out Scott’s shadow.

“Hey, dude!” Scott welcomed him, pulling him in for a hug. Stileswinced when Scott’s rough handling flared up some of his wounds, but he wroteit off as relief and returned the embrace. Scott might not be the smartest, buthe was definitely genuine with his good intentions. “It’s good to see you! I’mglad you’re out and about!” he said, pulling away and holding Stiles at arm’slength. Probably smiling that puppy-dog grin of his if Stiles had any guess, soStiles smiled back.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, letting Scott drag him further into the house.Stiles stumbled as the hard flooring of the foyer turned into the carpet of theliving room, frowning in concentration as he tried to visualize the McCallhousehold in his mind’s eye.

“Hey, Stiles.”

Stiles stiffened at the new voice, smile turning brittle. “Isaac,” hesaid, looking in the direction of the voice but unsure of where he was. “Hey.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Isaac said, and his voice was more tentativethan usual. He was walking closer and Stiles felt a hesitant hand brushing downhis arm. He reached out, grasping Isaac’s wrist and smiling in what he hopedwas a comforting way.

“Thanks,” he said, squeezing once. He may have been disappointed thatScott had invited the other beta over as well, but Isaac did sound sincere inhis concern. Not that Stiles could study his face to be sure, but either waythe beta didn’t pull away from him, which was new.

Scott tugged him further into the living room and Stiles tripped intothe couch. He sat gingerly, still a bit unsure without his sight but he’dmanaged okay around Peter at the house and surely he could manage being over atScott’s. He’d been coming over here since he was five.

“So how’ve you been?” Scott asked, and his voice came from around theback of the couch. Stiles turned, trying to face the right direction as hespoke.

“Okay. My ribs are still healing, but doc says those might take awhile,” he said.

“Uh, Stiles. I’m over here,” Scott said, and Stiles flushedembarrassedly, turning in the other direction.

“Right,” Stiles said through gritted teeth. Rapidly he was starting toregret this decision. Maybe he wasn’t as ready to leave the house without Peteror his dad as he’d thought.

“But yeah, your dad said you were healing up okay. I guess everythingworked out then,” Scott said. Stiles could hear his optimism and sunshine smileand Stiles suddenly had a flash of rage at his naïvetés.

“Excuse me?” Stiles said, clenching his fists and trying to keephimself calm.

“Dude, what’s up with you?” Scott said, and now he was standing infront of Stiles. “It’s like you can’t see or something.”

“…You do realized that I’m blind, don’t you, Scott?”

The room was instantly silent. Stiles glared at the space infront of him, the last place Scott’s voice had come from, and he stood. “Youknow what, I think I should be leaving. This was a mistake.”

“What? No, come on! Stiles!” Scott said, grabbing Stiles’arm. “What do you mean you’re blind?”

“I mean I’m blind, Scott! What do you think that means?”Stiles yelled, snatching his arm away. “Because you waited so long trying toplay hero, the repeated trauma to my head was too much for the doctors to fix.I’m lucky Peter and my dad got to me when they did, otherwise who knows whatwould’ve happened.”

“What?!” Scott yelled. “No, no, dude, that’s not—Peter was theone who kept holding us up! He kept trying to suggest we kill the hunters! Theywere just human!”

“They beat me until myribs were broken and I couldn’t see!” Stiles screamed. “I have never beenhappier for Peter to suggest killing someone!” Stiles sneered in disgust,turning to leave. This was a horrible horrible mistake. He stumbled into a lampand cursed, trying to right it back onto the table and storming off only tohip-check a corner.

“God-dammit!” Heyelled, tears welling up despite himself.

“Here,” Isaac said quietly, grabbing his hand and gentlyleading him to the door.

“Stiles!” Scott called.

“Shut the hell up, Scott!” Isaac yelled back, slamming thefront door behind them before walking with Stiles to the end of the driveway.

“Do you want me to call your dad?” Isaac asked Stiles lowly.

“Can…can you call Peter?” Stiles asked. “Dad was going intowork and I don’t want to call him out.”

“Okay,” Isaac agreed, before Stiles heard him shufflingthings around. “Hey, Peter? It’s Isaac. Can you come pick Stiles up at Scott’s?”There was a pause. “It…didn’t go well,” Isaac said. “I’ll let Stiles tell youthe details.” He made a humming sound before hanging up. “He’s on his way,”Isaac assured him. “Do you want me to leave or stay?”

“Stay, please,” Stiles said, hating how his voice cracked. Heroughly wiped at his face. “God, this is ridiculous. I’m almost eighteen; Ishouldn’t need someone to make calls for me or hold my hand.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Isaac said. “That was really shitty whatScott did. We were all to the point where we were ready to kill those fuckersif they didn’t tell us where you were, but Scott wanted to try to find youwithout killing anyone. I’m…I’m so sorry, Stiles, that none of us—that I—didn’t try harder to convince him orfind you myself.”

Stiles offered him a wobbly smile, squeezing his hand, butcouldn’t manage words. When the tears broke, Isaac pulled him in for a hug,letting Stiles hide his face into the taller boy’s shoulder.

“Peter’s driving down the street,” Isaac told him just beforeStiles could make out the sound of his car. Stiles sniffled, pulling away andwiping the wetness away.

“Stiles?” Peter asked, getting out of the car and leaving itrunning, rushing towards the boy.

“I’m okay,” Stiles promised, reaching for him. Peterenveloped him in a hug and Stiles relaxed into the comfort of the man’s arms.

“You going to be okay?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m going to go chew Scott out then,” Isaac said, andStiles could picture his vicious smirk.

“Thanks,” Stiles said into Peter’s shoulder, feeling a coldvindictiveness swirling within him.

“Let’s get you home,” Peter said, kissing his temple beforewalking with him to the car. “Isaac looks positively wrathful,” Peter murmured for Stiles’ ears alone.

“Good,” Stilessaid, just as spiteful.

Peter chuckled darkly, not a trace of humor, and moved to getin the driver’s seat. Stiles grabbed his hand over the console, leaning againsthis arm tiredly, trustingly.

“Take me home.”

“As you wish,” Peter said. Stiles snorted, hitting himlightly for the tease, but never let go.

[therapeutic-steter]

Oh my gosh. Dragon Stiles is fantastic oh my god. But I've only found a few fics of it, which sucks. So: "Peter had been losing shirts lately. Well. Not so much as loosing as having them stolen out from under his nose." AKA. Dragon Stiles steals Peter ' s clothes and stuff because he likes his scent.

Yes, I am quite the sucker for any Creature!Stiles fics, butDragon!Stiles does hold a special place in my heart. I may have went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you like it! 

Note: This one is just over 4,000 words.

—–break—–

“Stiles? Could you come here for a minute?”

“Coming!” Stiles stood from his desk, cracking his backafter sitting for so long before heading downstairs to where his dad wasworking at the kitchen table. “Yeah, pops?”

“Have a seat.”

Stiles did, wondering if he’d done something recently thatcould’ve gotten him in trouble and if he should admit now or wait to see whathis dad knew. John gave him a curious look.

“You’re not in trouble, but that look says that you probablyshould be. I’m not sure I want to know, though.”

Stiles grinned, relaxing in the chair. “Nonsense, daddio.I’m an angel.”

John laughed, shaking his head before looking down at thebook in his head.

“Look. Your eighteenth is coming up in a few weeks and yourmom…” John paused, taking a deep breath before pushing through. “Your mom mademe promise to give you this before then. She started writing it as soon as wefigured out about…the sickness.”

John handed the book over, trying to keep from getting tooemotional. Claudia was and probably would always be a sensitive topic for theStilinski men.

Stiles took the book gingerly, hands brushing over theleather front carefully. His mother’s words, written specifically for him.Words she wanted to make sure he heard, even if she wouldn’t be here to tellhim herself.

“She said it was important that you read that before youreighteenth birthday. I don’t know what it says, she asked me not to read itunless you wanted me to, but she said it was very important that you read allof it.”

“Okay,” Stiles croaked, voice cracking with emotion. Hecleared his throat, holding the notebook close. “Thanks.”

John smiled sadly, reaching out to brush his hand acrossStiles’ scruffy hair.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Stiles sniffled, emotion stinging his eyes. “Love you, dad.”

“Love you too,” John responded, before a steady handsqueezed Stiles’ shoulder before releasing him.

Stiles stood on shaky limbs and retreated back to his room,closing the door this time and sitting on the bed. He looked down at the book,fingers nervously brushing the cover before he worked up enough nerve to openit.

My Dear Mieczyslaw.

Stiles closed his eyes against his mother’s handwriting,curling around the notebook and breathing shaking, pushing back tears. Heforced a few trembling breaths in, wiping at the water that had escaped beforereturning to reading.

I’m so sorry I wasn’table to see you off to follow your dreams. I know they’ll be big and I knowyou’ll reach them and beyond. Know that I am endless proud of you, my littlewriggle wrym.

Stiles stopped again. His fingers brushed over the pagesleft of the notebook. He didn’t know if he could get through this, not withoutbreaking down every few sentences.

I’m also sorry I won’tbe there to help you with what’s to come. I know that what I’m about to tell youwill be hard to believe, but I hope you’ll heed my words. Then again, our kindtends to attract those of Other natures before even presenting, so maybe thiswon’t be so hard for you to believe after all. I hope not.

Stiles frowned, pushing away the emotional whiplash ofreading his mother’s words to actually take in what she was saying.

I wish I could’ve hadthis discussion with you myself, but you were just too young. I know you maythink I’m already suffering from the delusions of this sickness, but pleasetrust me.

My family came fromSlovakia, as you know. What you don’t know is that your grandparents, myparents, were very opposed to my marrying your father. They sent me over toAmerica to learn, but they wanted me to return and marry another once that wascompleted. But I met your father and I…I couldn’t bear to leave him. He was myBonded, môj jediný. I left my Clan for your father, but now my selfishness willbring hardship to you, as you will have no one to teach you.

We are Other, mylittle wrym. I am uncertain if you’ve encountered anything beyond the naturalworld yet in your lifetime. I had spoken with a friend of mine within BeaconHills who was also Other and she had agreed to introduce you to the Otherworld, since I cannot do so myself, so I hope she has kept to her vow. Wolvesare typically loyal creatures though, so I’m sure she has kept to it, unlesssomething prevented her. But I cannot put all of my faith in her. I must makesure you know. I have to make sure you’re prepared.

Because I left myClan, I cannot fight this sickness. Our kind is great, powerful, but even wehave weaknesses and need the help of Clanmates. Cutting ties with my familyleft me weak and I never recovered. Your father is a great man, but I havenever been brave enough to speak of my Otherness to him in order to create aTrue Bond. Maybe you will be braver than I, little wyrm.

So I will say this,and I hope you will believe me.

Mieczyslaw, my littlewyrm…you are a Dragon.

Stiles stared at thelast words on the page with wide eyes, disbelieving.

…

Stiles devoured the notebook his mother had left, readingover every page multiple times. He couldn’t believe he was a dragon! A Dragon!And he was going to be presenting on his eighteenth birthday! He’d get a fullshift with wings and claws and everything! His mom explained everything, theshift, the pain, the instincts. How he’d probably start hoarding things,focusing on scents as his senses increased, being even more protective of thosehe considered his. It was exciting, mind-blowing. He still could hardly believeit!

As he neared his eighteenth though, he began noticing thethings his mother had warned him about. Noises were getting louder, moredistracting. He would get angrier faster, a flash of heat rushing through hisveins at even the slightest provocation. Overall though, he felt more…solid.Steady. Secure. Like he’d finally learned what he’d been searching for allalong.

It was the scents that got him though. Everything wasso…distracting. He would walk around the house nightly, entering every room andbrushing his hands across any surface, ensuring his den carried his scent. He’dgotten touchier with his dad, hugging him or clapping his back often. His dadgave him a few side-eyes in the beginning, but after two weeks of it he’dsettled into the new routine, even offering a few hugs before Stiles could gofor them. Which was good. Hugs were always good, especially his dad’s.

The Pack though…Going to Derek’s loft and smelling thecombined scents was the ultimate test of control. He was getting better asfiltering them out and determining whose was whose, but it took a lot of hisconcentration and usually gave him a headache. The scents milling around therewere both welcoming and abhorrent, soothing and threatening. Objectively, heknew they all belonged to his friends, but sudden smells started to equate todanger, threat, and other unhappy things.

These new parts of himself that were coming to be stilldidn’t give him excuse for what he did.

It started with a normal pack meeting turned pixie hunt, asmost things were wont to be in this town. When the Pack had returned fromrunning around like mad-wolves plus one mad-dragon (not that he’d told anyoneabout that yet), everyone was tired and sore and ready to just take a nap.Scott took Isaac home, Allison and Lydia hadn’t come back with them, and Derekwas already headed up the stairs. Peter wiped the blood on his hands on hisjeans as he headed to the bathroom, presumably to take a shower. He stripped ofhis shirt on the way, leaving the dirty v-neck on the floor like the snob hewas before closing the door.

Stiles rolled his eyes, pausing from grabbing his clothesout from his overnight bag and snatching the shirt up with full intentions ofthrowing it in the hamper not five feet away. Something made him pause though,looking down at the shirt in his hand, nostrils flaring just a bit as hebreathed in.

Stiles’ knees went weak and he dropped to the floor, stillclutching the shirt. He shivered, pupils dilating as he buried his nose intothe shirt and breathed in. It was like a drug, the scent. He felt completelyoverwhelmed, lost to himself. He looked up, eyes focused on the door wherePeter had just disappeared and had to shake himself from ripping the door open.

He needed…He needed to get out of there. Right now, beforehe embarrassed himself. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bag and rushingout the door.

He never let go of the shirt.

…

He didn’t understand! He searched through every page of thenotebook, but his mom never said anything about certain scents giving someone…that kind of reaction. She’d went overeverything else so clearly, why would she have left out something like that? Hehad to be missing something.

In the meantime, he’d done some scent tests, trying to getas close to pure ‘sniffs’ of all of his friends. So far, while Scott smelledjust as much as home and safety as his dad and Allison made his figurativehackles rise up, none had resulted in the same reaction. And as the shirt beganto naturally lose its scent, he found himself craving it, needing another fix.It was ridiculous to think that way, but it was the only way Stiles could thinkto explain the incessant, ridiculous needhe felt to find Peter and steal all his clothes.

No one knew where Peter lived though or what he did in hisdowntime. An oversight of theirs, for sure. But having gone a whole weekwithout a fresh smell and with his birthday less than a week away, he set outafter school in an almost daze, following his feet and not giving it muchthought other than he needed something and his instincts seemed to know whereit was.

When he slipped into an apartment building that seemed nomore special than any other, Stiles nearly whimpered in relief when he got justa hint of Peter’s scent in the air. Oh. So that’s what his instincts weresearching for.

He followed the scent trail easily, almost running down thehall before stopping at one. He just knewit was the right one. Predictably, it was locked, but Stiles had learned how topick locks years ago. He slipped into the apartment easily once he listened anddidn’t hear any sounds marking Peter as being home. He wanted to take in theapartment for all it was worth, but firstly he headed straight for the bedroomwhere a load of dirty laundry was sitting innocently in the hamper. Stilesgrinned, snatching a v-neck and sweater towards the top before hugging themclose and breathing in. His eyes almost rolled in pleasure as he was surroundedby the scent of Peter. He gasped, mouth open to the air as he just breathed.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to gethimself together, sneaking out of the room with his treasure in hand. Hemanaged to keep himself from being too touchy, wondering if it was already amoot point with what little bit he had touched and left his scent on, but hedidn’t see a way around that. He slipped out of the apartment then, slinkinghome an odd mixture of pleased and mortified. He had to get this under control.

…

Stiles spent the next few days after his theft looking overhis shoulder, waiting for Peter to pop up and attack or demand his shirts backor something. But then the inevitable birthday plans started popping up and hewas so excited that he could hardly spare the brain cells to worry about Peter.He was a little concerned on what exactly his presenting would entail so he didmanage to talk Lydia out of throwing a wild party and instead doing a smallerthing with just the Pack. That way, if he sprouted wings or starting breathingfire, at least he’d only be in front of people already in the supernatural know.His mom had said he’d come into his power at the time of his birth on hiseighteenth birthday, which was around two in the morning if he rememberedcorrectly. He’d have to ask his dad. Luckily, the Pack was planning tocelebrate on Friday and his real birthday wasn’t until Sunday, so maybe itwould work out.

Perhaps his birthday plans had lulled him into a false senseof security though. Or maybe his eminent presenting made him a little forgetfulof other things. But for whatever reason, Stiles had failed to take intoaccount that not only was Peter the most paranoid person ever, he was also thebiggest drama king in California. So when he walked into the loft on Friday,all his friends yelling ‘Happy Birthday’ at his entrance, his eyes instantlylocked onto Peter’s positively wicked grin.

Please don’t sayanything now, he begged mentally, trying to turn into a telepath.

Peter’s eyes sparked with mischievousness, but he didn’tinstantly call Stiles out. He let Stiles hug and thank his friends, millingaround and honestly avoiding even looking in Peter’s direction for the firsttwo hours of the party.

“Play time’s over, Stiles,” Peter purred from behind him.Stiles startled, glancing at the man from under his lashes.

“Any chance you’d let it drop?” he asked, cautiouslyhopeful.

Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder and pullinghim into the kitchen for some semblance of privacy, which Stiles was thankfulfor.

“You want to offer the explanation now or do I need toconvince you?” Peter asked, casually leaning against the counter while watchingStiles hungrily.

Stiles gulped. “Well, um…You see…It was for…I didn’t…”

Peter raised a brow. “Anytime now,” he drawled.

Stiles hung his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stealyour shirts.”

“And cashmere sweater,” Peter interjected.

Stiles huffed, glowering at him. “And your cashmeresweater,” he added begrudgingly.

Peter hummed. “Odd, though, isn’t it? If you didn’t mean tosteal my clothes, why did you? Not exactly something that happens accidentlyvery often. Even rarely so if those clothes are in my place of residence and you have to pick the lock to get inside.”

Stiles gulped at the hint of a growl in Peter’s voice.“Look, dude, I’ll bring them back, I swear. I didn’t…It wasn’t on purpose. Ijust. I had to.”

“And I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

Stiles licked his lips nervously. “I know I owe you anexplanation, okay? But I just…can’t. Atleast not right now. I’m going through some…stuff, and it turns out my mom leftme a book about this stuff, and I’m still trying to…figure that stuff out. CanI, I don’t know, owe you?”

Peter studied him for a moment, eyes brimming with questionsbut he thankfully held them back. “I can be patient, Stiles. But I will want anexplanation. Otherwise, I might be forced to go looking and I get the feelingyou wouldn’t want me digging in some places.”

Stiles nodded. “Please don’t. I promise, I will explain,just not right now.”

Peter smirked lightly. “Alright then. We’ll table thisdiscussion for now.” Stiles let out a breath of relief, turning to head backout the room, when Peter grab his wrist. “I thought you might like this though,to add to your collection,” Peter murmured, stepping closer and grinningdangerously. Stiles stopped breathing, scared to inhale Peter’s scent sodirectly, and barely managed to grasp the cloth Peter shoved in his hand.

Peter winked then before pulling away and strutting out thekitchen. Stiles stood in awe before managing to look at what Peter had justgiven him. He shivered, licking his lips again unconsciously. It was a softwell-worn v-neck, obviously something Peter wore often. It smelt like Peter’sscent was embedded into the fibers and Stiles bit back a moan.

Oh boy, was he in trouble now.

…

Stiles’ dad had managed to take Sunday off for his birthday,so they had lunch before watching a baseball game and then heading to the dinerfor lunch. His dad gave him a gift card for a videogame and a new watch.Overall, it was nothing extravagant, but it was still nice. Sadly—or more, conveniently—hisdad did have to go in that night though, so around ten o’clock Stiles huggedhis dad one last time before the man left for his shift.

“Try not to get into trouble tonight, okay?”

“Never. I’m an angel,” Stiles said.

John laughed, ruffling his son’s hair. “Goodnight, son. Loveyou.”

“Night, dad. Love you too. Stay safe,” Stiles added, wavingas his dad left for work. Then he ran upstairs, changing into some worn clothesfor hiking and grabbing his ready back before locking up and heading out thebackdoor. He jumped over the fence, walking further into the woods determinedly.He wasn’t sure what exactly his presenting would entail, but he figured beingin an open space and away from breakable things or public places would be best.

As the night grew later, Stiles began to feel…different.More energetic. Awake. Alive. His eyesight was perfect even without using theflashlight he’d brought and he didn’t stumble or trip like he’d usually do. Hecould hear the forest noises around him, the chittering of squirrels andscurrying field mice. He felt invigorated, breathing in the scents of the forestand grinning to himself.

He was almost to his destination, a clearing on the backsideof the Preserve, when the forest went silent. He immediately noticed, pausingand listening intently. A steady heartbeat drew his attention, slow and calmlike a predator in his own territory. Stiles couldn’t say he was surprised whenhe breathed in only to be enveloped in Peter’s familiar, entrancing scent.

“You just get more and more interesting,” Peter spoke,stalking through the trees to Stiles’ side and matching his pace. Stilescontinued to the hearing, knowing it was a moot point to try and get Peter toleave him alone after all the oddities the man must’ve observed.

“Just you wait,” Stiles muttered. Peter chuckled.

“Oh? Do I get my explanation now?”

Stiles glanced over at him. “I bet even you wouldn’t haveseen this coming. And honestly, I’m not completely sure what’s going to happen,but whatever it is, it’s going to happen in…” He glanced at his phone. “…aboutan hour.”

“I’m assuming this is something you want kept secret fornow?”

Stiles shrugged. “It’s not like it won’t get out eventuallywith our luck, but I do want a little bit of time to come to terms with itbefore I start telling the whole Pack. Changing one’s species isn’t somethingone gets used to overnight.”

Peter hummed curiously. “And what, exactly, are you turningin to?”

Stiles ignored his question as they finally reached theclearing. He dropped his bag, turning to look at Peter steadily. He breathed indeeply, taking in the scents of the clearing as well as Peter’s natural scent.He felt like he was buzzing, a rush running through his veins. There was astiffness in his muscles and he stretched, cracking his neck and rolling hisshoulders. A pressure on his fingertips and gums started, an ache deep withinhim that just needed to be released.

Peter’s eyes widened as he took in Stiles’ form. The boy’seyes were glowing a molten orange like embers, though he doubted the boy waseven aware. He had a different presence about him now than Peter had ever felt.It was almost like watching a lazing predator, one you knew could strike at anymoment but right now was the picture of calm.

Stiles started shifting in place, rolling his shoulders andreleasing ‘pops’ from his stiff joints. His fingers stretched and curled rhythmically.His heartbeat was slowing, a steady thump that would’ve made Peter think he wasasleep if it wasn’t for him watching the boy move. Stiles opened his mouthwide, jaw twisting back and forth like he had an ache there. Peterunconsciously took a few steps back, the pressure in the clearing surroundingthem growing heavier. It was like the moments before a storm, a weightedsilence just waiting for a burst to release the tension.

Stiles’ eyes flickered, glowing even brighter, before hethrew his head back. No sound came from him as his teeth elongated just as hisface started shifting as well. Peter held his breath as Stiles’ form morphed. Itwas an awe-worthy transition, smooth and effortless. Claws burst from hisfingertips, his shoes were ripped to shreds as his feet changed. His shirt wasripped apart as spikes protruded from his back with a tail following shortlyafter. The final step was the wide wings that burst from his back, extendingalmost the full width of the clearing. Stiles roared with the finalization ofhis shift. Where the boy had been, now a towering beast stood.

A dragon.

Peter could barely breathe,eyes alight with disbelief and awe. It was like watching a fairytale come tolife. A dragon. A dragon! Stiles was a dragon!

Stiles made a rumbling sound, molten eyes watching him. Heshifted on his feet, twisting his long neck and take in his new form. When heflapped his wings inquisitively, Peter couldn’t help but chuckle because Stileshad let out a chirping sound of excitement. Stiles turned his attention back toPeter at the sound, huffing and leaning closer. His breath was a waft of warmair over him.

“You continue to surprise me,” Peter murmured in reverence.

Stiles snuffled, breathing in Peter’s scent and steppingjust a bit closer. Peter lifted his hand, hesitantly reaching out for Stiles’face. The dragon leaned into the touch, letting him brush his fingers across thescales. They felt like warm stones, smooth and alive.

Stiles felt much more at peace now that he’d finallypresented. He felt comfortable, like he was always meant to be in this form. Healso felt a glowing center within himself that hadn’t been there before.Breathing in Peter’s scent and feeling his touch against his scales, he wasbeginning to understand why his mother hadn’t explained his reaction to the manbefore.

Môj jediný, shehad called his dad. Her Only.

Peter smiled like a child, pleased and excited at seeingsomething new, something he thought was just a myth. Stiles made a purringsound, pleasure bursting from him at the obvious sign of his Bonded’shappiness.

“I suppose I should be honored to have been chosen as thesubject of a dragon’s hoard,” Peter teased him lightly, still much too joyfulto come off as anything less.

Stiles’ snorted, brushing against his side and chirpingadorably.

Peter smiled, running his hands down the scales of Stiles’neck, more confident now in his welcome. He couldn’t help but watch the moonlightreflecting off the scales. The white light made Stiles shimmer like he was madeof water, beauty and grace personified. He felt something like a Pack bondcentered within him, but it felt different. Stronger. And it was obviously tetheredto the dragon in question. He wasn’t that concerned though, simply welcomed thebond within him and cradled it close. He would ask Stiles about it later, oncethe boy had changed back. For now, he would soak in the relief of having such aconnection when he’d been denied true Pack bonds for so long.

“I hope you know, you’ll never get rid of me now,” Peterwarned him.

Stiles growled, curling around the wolf and chuffing once.

And, well. That was that then. Peter smiled; he guessed therewere worse fates.