all in a twilight, you and I alike - Teen Wolf, AU, Peter/Stiles, PG13/R
I'm writing this on a prompt-by-prompt basis or as the inspiration strikes me. WIP.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: minor violence; mentions of minor character death; AU
Pairings: maybe sorta implied Peter/Stiles?
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1010
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, his/her twin in a parallel universe
There is a world where Stiles’ dad caught Scott in the woods that night and Stiles fled in the opposite direction, knowing even as he kept running that it was possibly the stupidest thing he had ever done. And when he tripped headfirst into a tree and something growled at him, when he scrambled to his knees and turned to see a giant shadow with bared fangs -
“Huh,” he said.
The giant shadow, close enough for Stiles to see the dark fur in the scantest light of the moon, close enough to feel the hot breath, to count each gleaming fang, tilted its head like a confused dog.
Moon. Body torn in half. Giant wolf-shaped shadow.
Stiles Stilinski may have been a moron, but he was not stupid.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
The giant shadow (werewolf, the analytical part of his mind that never shut up announced, and the terrified part of him shouted back, no shit, Sherlock!) lunged forward, biting down on his shoulder, and angled its body so that when he screamed, all the sound got caught in its neck.
No one heard, and no one was looking for him, and it hurt, it hurt so bad…
When the werewolf (what else? the part of him still aware enough to ask muttered) pulled back, Stiles brought a hand up to his shoulder, watching it lick at the blood on its teeth. It nosed back in, sniffing at his neck, and he closed his eyes, hurting too much to care. But when the werewolf lunged forward again, this time grabbing the back of his neck in its claws, Stiles tried yanking away, and its claws dug into his neck -
fire screams familypack children sisterbrother mate mate wife mate children children pups fire
wolfsbane
pain
hate
fire
familypack
familypack
beta
alpha
Stiles woke up in his bed without a clue how he got there. He had missed calls and unread texts from Scott, and he could hear Dad downstairs, rummaging around in the fridge, humming to himself, hear Dad’s heartbeat -
But he and Scott were in the woods, looking for the missing half of that girl (Laura, familypack, regret, rage) and they were separated, and Dad found Scott, and Stiles hit his head, and there was a giant - (alpha)
Stiles touched his right shoulder, which didn’t hurt at all. He pulled the t-shirt down to look, and there wasn’t even a mark.
Dad mumbled, “I want your love, I want your revenge,” which, Stiles never needed to know about Dad’s crush on Lady Gaga, but at least he picked a good song.
And. And.
Stiles shouldn’t be able to hear that. How did he get home? He was… in the woods. With a shadow that had fangs and claws (alpha) and…
No. It was just a dream. He hit his head, stumbled home, went to bed.
End of story.
.
Two nights later, while Scott was at a party with his new lady love, Stiles stayed home. Dad was on duty and Stiles huddled under the covers on his bed and he’d never felt so angry. He smelled smoke.
He heard howling.
.
Stiles woke up naked in the woods to an equally naked man staring at him. “Hello,” the man said. “I’m Peter. What’s your name?”
There was a command in those gentle words, and Stiles -
“I’m Stiles,” he answered. “What - ”
“I need your help, Stiles,” Peter said quietly, reaching out to cup Stiles’ jaw. “I showed you what happened to my family.”
“Fire,” Stiles murmured, not pulling away, not wanting to pull away.
Peter nodded, the hand on Stiles’ jaw shifting until claws pricked at his skin. Stiles swallowed nervously, but he knew, knew, that Peter wouldn’t hurt him unless he deserved it.
“Will you help me?” Peter asked, his other hand stroking over Stiles’ shoulder, splaying his palm over the no-longer-there bite.
If anything happened to Dad, Stiles would kill.
“Yes,” Stiles said.
.
(In a world where Scott was bitten, Derek and the pack watch the Stiles-wolf carefully. Stiles himself is intrigued, getting closer than anyone likes, but the Stiles-wolf hasn’t made a single threatening move.
When Peter slinks into the room, the Stiles-wolf looks at him and snarls, “You’re not my alpha.”
Stiles glances from Stiles-wolf to Peter and back. “Derek killed him a few months ago,” he explains, meeting his wolf-self’s eyes and not looking away. “Then he resurrected himself, somehow. No one’s bothered explaining it to me.”
Stiles-wolf nods, still not moving, and nobody else seems capable of doing anything, so Stiles asks, “You said yes?”
“I didn’t get a choice,” Stiles-wolf replies, shrugging. “But after the memory-dump, if I’d been given the choice - yeah, I would’ve.”
Derek growls and Stiles-wolf looks at him. “Alpha red’s good on you,” he says. “But if you come near me, one of us dies.”
Stiles slowly moves between them, not for a second thinking it’ll do any good if one of them decides to attack, and Peter says, “In your world - ”
“My alpha tore the Argents apart,” Stiles-wolf says, baring his teeth. “And most of the others responsible. I got Harris, the insurance guy, and one of the arsonists.”
“And the rest of my nephew’s wolves?” Peter asks, while everyone is just standing there horrified, and Stiles -
Stiles gets it. A part of Stiles even wants it, has wanted it since the parking garage, and Stiles-wolf’s gaze flicks back to him as he answers, “Isaac, yes. The rest are just kids at my school.”
“We need to send you back,” Stiles says.
Stiles-wolf tilts his head, scenting the air. “You’ve got the spark Deaton was talking about,” he says. “Wonder twins activate?”
Stiles nods. “I just read the book last night.”
Laughing, Stiles-wolf says, “So did I. Wishing real hard at the same time?”
Scott makes a small inquisitive sound, but Stiles can’t look away from how still Stiles-wolf is, how controlled. He makes all of Derek’s puppies look like newborns.
“I’ve wondered,” Stiles mutters.
Stiles-wolf’s eyes flash a bright, chill gold, and he mutters back, “So’ve I.”)
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of violence and minor character death; AU
Pairings: maybe sorta implied pre-Peter/Stiles?
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 170
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, I want people to tell their children terrifying stories about the things we did for love.
Adrian Harris is first, a gift for the boy. Six years ago, he was a drunkard who let a pretty blonde seduce him into murder. Now he is a dried up husk of a man who lives for tormenting his students, and Peter's new beta in particular.
Really, Harris has done most of the work himself, and the child has only his father's morals holding him back.
(His father's, not his. Oh, but Peter had chosen so well, high on the rush of being alpha.)
"We'll be completely bonded as alpha and beta," he tells the boy, watching Harris struggle uselessly. "Nothing will be able to come between us, or turn you from me."
The boy flicks at glance at him, heart steady, and shifts.
Peter hasn't managed the full shift yet, not like Talia or Laura, but this boy,his beta-
"Please, please, don't do this, you don't have to do this!" Harris blubbers, trying to scramble back.
Stiles lunges and Peter smiles as blood fills the night air.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of minor character death; AU; implied future dub-con and/or seduction at the behest of someone you can’t really say no to
Pairings: the Peter/Stiles is no longer implied
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 840
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any/any, someone ends up being turned into a werewolf or other supernatural creature, whereas in canon they were saved.
“My nephew,” Peter says, fingers stroking the back of Stiles’ neck.
“You want me to kill him?” Stiles asks, eyes closing in bliss.
“No,” Peter says, fingers tightening, claws breaking the skin, shaking the boy like a pup.
Stiles hisses, whining at his alpha’s displeasure. “I want to avoid killing my last living relative unless there is no other option,” Peter tells him, letting the claws rest against Stiles’ neck for another moment before resuming the stroking. He reels Stiles in, resting his cheek on the top of Stiles’ head.
“Get close to him,” Peter murmurs, tracing his fingers along Stiles’ spine. He has missed the closeness of pack, these past six years, an eternity trapped inside his head, with only humans for company. His pack, dead and gone. “Be where he is. Let him approach you. He’ll know what you are, but he’ll also know you’re too new to have ever hurt Laura.”
Laura. Oh, Laura. He’d held her when she was minutes old, his sister’s firstborn, his future alpha. He saw her first steps, ran with her during her first shift. He loved her like a daughter; he had no children of his own before the fire. He and Stefan had just begun considering it, had started talking about asking Veronica, his younger sister, to carry a child for them - and then the hunters trapped the pack and burned them all alive.
“And after I’m close to him?” Stiles asks, curling into him, tilting his head so that his ear is over Peter’s heart. Oh, Peter does so adore this boy.
“Seduce him,” Peter whispers, even though he knows it’ll hurt to watch. Stiles is nothing like Stefan except for the acidic wit, for the sarcasm neither of them can - could - turn off.
“What.” Stiles tries to jerk away but Peter’s arms tighten around him. “Peter, alpha - I can’t -”
“You can,” Peter says. “Maybe not sexually, but you’re a baby wolf, beta. Derek had a way with the pups, and he is a born beta. He’ll want to help you.” He chuckles, nuzzling the side of Stiles’ head, nibbling at Stiles’ ear. “Flail around a bit, babble at him. Act like you have no idea what’s going on - but don’t flat-out lie to him, Stiles. Born wolves are walking lie detectors.”
Stiles growls a little, sounding as dangerous as a newborn pup, and Peter wants… but not yet. Derek would be able to smell it on Stiles, and Stiles is still so young.
But soon, he tells himself. Stefan is gone. Stefan is gone, and Stiles is Peter’s in a way not even Stefan had been. Stefan was the youngest son of the head beta of a pack over in Arizona; Peter met him at college. Stefan had been fighting with the alpha’s son and refused to go home until he got an apology that would never be coming, so Peter invited him back to Beacon Hills when they graduated. They were friends for years before mating.
Stiles is Peter’s in every single way and he presses a gentle kiss to Stiles’ lips before pulling away, unwinding his arms from around Stiles. “You’re a good pup,” he says. “You’ll be magnificent as you grow.”
Stiles preens and quickly darts in, kissing Peter again. Peter lets him, reveling in the feel of him, the excitement, the knowledge that his pack is off to a wonderful start.
The sheriff turns his car onto the street so Peter pulls away again, standing. “Seduce my nephew, beta,” he says. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Will we be going after someone else soon?” Stiles asks quickly, following him to the stairs, bouncing in place.
“Yes,” Peter says, deciding his boy is so good, he deserves a reward. “Your chemistry teacher, in fact.” He pats Stiles’ cheek, caresses his jaw. “This weekend. Make contact with Derek and I might even let you have the fool.”
Stiles’ eyes widen and his mouth drops open. Peter can barely tear his gaze away, but the sheriff is now only a few houses away and while Peter may one day have to deal with the man, it’s not time yet.
“Goodbye, Stiles,” Peter says and hurries down the stairs, out the back door.
Derek can’t know that Peter is awake until he’s so wrapped up in Stiles he can’t pull away. Derek’s had six years to grow, to mature, to strengthen himself - Peter has an alpha’s power now, but he’s also spent six years trapped in a dying shell. He took Laura by surprise and he doesn’t have that advantage with Derek, who knows that there is something in town capable of taking an alpha in the prime of her life.
At the moment, Derek thinks it’s hunters, but soon enough, when the body count continues to rise, Derek will figure out otherwise.
And if he’s invested in Stiles…
Peter slips back into the hospital, brings back the burns to the surface, and pretends to be a catatonic shell.
Soon, he tells himself. So very soon.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of minor character death; AU
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 110
Point of view: third
Prompt: Author’s choice, author’s choice,
99 bullet-riddled bodies on the wall
99 bullet-riddled bodies
98 bullet-riddled bodies on the wall
98 bullet-riddled bodies...
Adrian Harris is the first person Stiles ever kills. He knows he should regret it, knows his father would be horrified, that his mother would be disgusted, that Scott would never look at him the same -
But Scott is dating a daughter of hunters, and Harris has never, not even once, given Stiles a reason to hesitate.
Harris helped kill Stiles’ alpha’s pack. He let a pretty little blonde trick him into revealing the best way to kill a houseful of people. Peter has explained everything he’s pieced together, that he got from Laura before she died.
Adrian Harris is the first. He’s not the last. Not by a long shot.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of major character death; AU; morality being flushed down the toilet; underage sexual shenanigans; an idiot boy being taken advantage of by a homicidal maniac and not quite realizing where the line is or even how to draw it, and then deciding there is no line after all
Pairings: Peter/Stiles, Scott/Allison
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 705
Point of view: third
A part of Stiles feels guilty. Dad’s having to work a lot of overtime because bodies are piling up. Stiles has to make nice with Scott’s girl even though he knows that this whole thing will end with her dying a bloody death because of her family. He’s making friends with a guy just so that the guy doesn’t have to be messily murdered.
But Peter needs him to do this. Alpha needs him.
(Three months ago, he didn’t even know Peter Hale. Three months ago, he was tromping around in the woods at night looking for a body.
Three months ago, he was deaf and blind and couldn’t smell a thing. Three months ago, he was weak.
But he’s strong, now. He’s something now, even if only he and Peter (and Derek) know it.)
Scott’s on a date tonight. With an Argent. Stiles didn’t even have to ask for Scott; Peter just worked around him, whispering his plans into Stiles’ ear with his fingers dancing around on Stiles’ back, pressing him further and further into the bed - but backing away, always backing away, whenever he edged up to Stiles’ limit.
“She’s here,” Peter said, breath hot on Stiles’ neck, “and we’re going to kill the girl so that she calls in the head of the family.”
“Too many feminine pronouns there.” Stiles shuddered in pleasure, eyes closing as his fingers shifted, claws digging into his bedspread.
Peter laughed softly, pulling back just enough for Stiles to breathe again. “Kate Argent,” he said crisply, hate in every syllable. “She’s back in Beacon Hills. You and I are going to kill her niece so that she’ll call in reinforcements.” He leaned down to nip at the base of Stiles’ neck.
“Reinforcements?” Stiles repeated, yelping when Peter bit down hard enough to draw blood.
“Their alpha,” Peter murmured into his skin, kissing the bite until it healed, and then biting again in the exact same spot.
“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, and Peter chuckled, “Not yet.” He pulled away, sitting up, and Stiles followed, turning to face him.
“The Argents are ruled by the wives, mothers, grandmothers - the oldest woman in the family is the leader.” Peter waited for Stiles’ nod to continue, “Chris and Kate Argent’s mother died a few years ago, I don’t know from what. She had no sisters and no female cousins, and her husband didn’t want to give up power.”
“So…” Stiles said, “Kate should be the head of the family and she’s not?”
Peter nodded. “I don’t doubt that she would’ve killed us without hesitating, but she needed someone to point her our way. And we’re going to kill them all, beta. Not the entire hunting clan, unfortunately, but everyone in the immediate family will die. Including your friend’s little lady love.”
And Stiles had said, “Okay, alpha,” even though he knew -
And Scott’s on a date tonight. With Allison, who is so sweet. Who tells Stiles he’s always welcome, who laughs at his babble (which has been fake, so fake, for three months, and no one has noticed), who asks him how his day is going, who always smiles.
She makes Scott so happy.
But she’s Kate’s niece. She’s Gerard’s granddaughter. Her family burned Alpha’s family alive, and Stiles has a choice right now.
Right now.
Because Allison isn’t that guy in the rental store, or the bus driver, or those fools in the woods. Allison isn’t Harris. Allison, in and of herself, hasn’t done a single thing to deserve what Peter’s going to do to her.
Peter’s waiting for Stiles. Allison is going to drop Scott off because his mom needed the car, and she’s going to drive home, and she’s never going to get there, and if Stiles calls Derek -
Peter’s howl thrums in Stiles’ bones and he drops the phone on the bed, jumps out the window, and runs to his alpha.
(A part of him feels guilty, when he lets Scott sob all over him about Allison. When Dad rants about wild animals and how someone has to be responsible, someone has to be turning the thing loose.
And Peter crawls into his bed, spreads out over his back, and whispers, “She called him.”
None of Stiles feels guilty after that.)
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: character death, grief/mourning, panic attack/asthma attack (written by someone who has neither)
Pairings: Scott/Allison
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 500
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, "It's okay." "No it's not!"
"Scott," Stiles says, sounding hesitant. Scott looks at his phone, confused, because Stiles hasn't sounded hesitant since the last time he broke one of Scott's transformers and that was, like, a decade ago.
"Stiles?" he asks. "What's wrong?"
He can hear Stiles take a deep breath. "I'm coming over there," he says. "My dad... I'm not supposed to know yet, but he - I'm coming over there."
Mom's at work, some conference that ran long. It's why she needed the car, why Allison had picked Scott up and dropped him off instead of the other way around. If Mom didn't have the car, it would've been Scott's turn. He could ride his bike to Stiles, but his breath is still shallow from Allison teaching him to use her bow.
"Stiles, what's wrong?" he asks again, but Stiles has already hung up.
So Scott has to wait.
.
Five minutes later, Stiles pulls into the driveway, which means he was already driving when he called. Scott waits on the porch, giving Stiles time to calm down, or whatever. It’s been a long time since Stiles had a panic attack, but Scott can clearly remember the last one. It was… horrifying. If Mom hadn’t been home -
But Mom was home. She’s not this time.
Stiles gets out of the jeep and slowly walks over to the porch, up the stairs. He doesn’t meet Scott’s eyes.
“I overheard my dad,” he says quietly. “On accident, this time. I’d just gotten home.” He looks at Scott for just a second before back down at the porch, and, yeah, Scott has noticed. Hell, everyone has noticed the sheriff’s son hanging out with an older guy, but Scott’s been waiting for Stiles to come to him the way he goes to Stiles about Allison. “He didn’t hear me come in,” Stiles continues, and now he’s wringing his hands.
What the hell could be so awful? This is almost like when Stiles’ mother died, when Dad left -
“Stiles,” Scott bursts in, because now it’s occurred to him, “my mom, is she - ”
“It’s not your mom,” Stiles says, voice barely there. “But something… Allison crashed into a tree, Scott, and something got her.”
He says more, but Scott can’t hear him. His breath is roaring in his ears, and he can’t catch it, and -
.
When he comes to, his mom is holding him and Stiles is beside them on the couch. “Oh, my baby, sweetie, lovie,” Mom is crooning, one hand stroking the back of his head. His face is buried in her shoulder and he still can’t quite catch his breath.
He can’t -
Not Allison -
He turns his head to look at Stiles. “Does your dad know?” he croaks out.
“Not yet,” Stiles says. “But it’ll - you’ll be okay, Scott. I swear you will.” His voice breaks, and Scott knows he’s thinking about his mom, how it’s been years and nothing’s okay yet.
Scott doesn’t say anything, just turns back to his mother and lets himself cry.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: blood, death, gore, AU, major character death, and a dumb kid rationalizing away everything
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 510
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, what you need is a good, old fashioned _____
Stiles wakes up to a howl thrumming in his bones. Dad’s asleep down the hall, home from an eighteen hour shift, and Stiles silently dresses before slipping out the window.
Peter is waiting at the edge of the preserve, smiling. “I have a gift for you,” he says, gently squeezing the back of Stiles’ neck.
“Another?” Stiles says, pressing up into the touch. “The insurance bastard was just a week ago.”
“I’ve been tracking them for over a month,” Peter tells him, tugging him into the preserve. “I remember them, their stench. They poured the gasoline.”
(screams wolfsbane fire)
Stiles snarls; Peter rumbles in reply and then they both go silent.
.
There are two drunk guys dancing around a fire. Their stench is in Stiles’ nightmares from Peter’s memories. When Stiles shifts, it’s not even consciously.
“Take your pick,” Alpha murmurs, stepping back.
The taller one laughs, throwing back another bottle of beer. His stench is stronger; he got closer to the house, that horrible night, so Stiles will leave him for Alpha. The smaller one bends down to grab a bottle and Stiles pounces.
Both of the men shout, but Stiles can’t hear them over the memory of fire roaring, of familypack screaming, and he doesn’t hesitate. The little guy’s blood is warm in his mouth, and bone splinters, tiny pricks that barely register on his gums, his tongue, down his throat.
The other one is screaming, begging, pleading, scrambling back on the dirt, eyes on Alpha. Alpha stalks forward, halfway into the shift, as far as Stiles has seen him go. Stiles licks his lips, watching avidly, and Alpha growls, “Watch and learn, beta. This is how we’re going to kill the Argents.”
With three kills in him, Stiles has been quick and messy. He watched Alpha tear the video guy apart, and it was nothing like this -
This is slow, calculating, and agonizing. The bastard can’t even whimper by the time Alpha is done.
Sunrise is an hour away when Alpha shifts back to Peter and gestures Stiles forward. “We’re taking them to the house,” Peter says. “We’ll burn them where we were burned.”
“Makes sense,” Stiles says, shrugging.
.
Dad gets up while Stiles is cooking breakfast. Dad’s still a bit sluggish but Stiles is wired. He took a scalding shower, scrubbed every inch of his skin, and burned his clothes miles away from where the scum was left smoldering in the ruins of the Hale house.
Dad knows something is up; of course he does. But Stiles starts rambling at him, and Dad chuckles, and there is simply no way Dad could ever guess the truth.
(Stiles doesn’t want him to guess the truth.)
.
(“You know what to do,” Alpha rumbles, eyes red as the blood he wants Stiles to spill.
Allison is whimpering as she regains consciousness.
“Do as I showed you,” Alpha croons, claws quivering as he restrains himself.
“Wha-what?” Allison mumbles, eyes blinking open for a second before closing again.
“Go wild, beta,” Alpha orders.
Alpha needs this. Alpha wants this.
(familypack
alpha)
Stiles snarls, “Argent.”)
continue
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: minor violence; mentions of minor character death; AU
Pairings: maybe sorta implied Peter/Stiles?
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1010
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, his/her twin in a parallel universe
There is a world where Stiles’ dad caught Scott in the woods that night and Stiles fled in the opposite direction, knowing even as he kept running that it was possibly the stupidest thing he had ever done. And when he tripped headfirst into a tree and something growled at him, when he scrambled to his knees and turned to see a giant shadow with bared fangs -
“Huh,” he said.
The giant shadow, close enough for Stiles to see the dark fur in the scantest light of the moon, close enough to feel the hot breath, to count each gleaming fang, tilted its head like a confused dog.
Moon. Body torn in half. Giant wolf-shaped shadow.
Stiles Stilinski may have been a moron, but he was not stupid.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
The giant shadow (werewolf, the analytical part of his mind that never shut up announced, and the terrified part of him shouted back, no shit, Sherlock!) lunged forward, biting down on his shoulder, and angled its body so that when he screamed, all the sound got caught in its neck.
No one heard, and no one was looking for him, and it hurt, it hurt so bad…
When the werewolf (what else? the part of him still aware enough to ask muttered) pulled back, Stiles brought a hand up to his shoulder, watching it lick at the blood on its teeth. It nosed back in, sniffing at his neck, and he closed his eyes, hurting too much to care. But when the werewolf lunged forward again, this time grabbing the back of his neck in its claws, Stiles tried yanking away, and its claws dug into his neck -
fire screams familypack children sisterbrother mate mate wife mate children children pups fire
wolfsbane
pain
hate
fire
familypack
familypack
beta
alpha
Stiles woke up in his bed without a clue how he got there. He had missed calls and unread texts from Scott, and he could hear Dad downstairs, rummaging around in the fridge, humming to himself, hear Dad’s heartbeat -
But he and Scott were in the woods, looking for the missing half of that girl (Laura, familypack, regret, rage) and they were separated, and Dad found Scott, and Stiles hit his head, and there was a giant - (alpha)
Stiles touched his right shoulder, which didn’t hurt at all. He pulled the t-shirt down to look, and there wasn’t even a mark.
Dad mumbled, “I want your love, I want your revenge,” which, Stiles never needed to know about Dad’s crush on Lady Gaga, but at least he picked a good song.
And. And.
Stiles shouldn’t be able to hear that. How did he get home? He was… in the woods. With a shadow that had fangs and claws (alpha) and…
No. It was just a dream. He hit his head, stumbled home, went to bed.
End of story.
.
Two nights later, while Scott was at a party with his new lady love, Stiles stayed home. Dad was on duty and Stiles huddled under the covers on his bed and he’d never felt so angry. He smelled smoke.
He heard howling.
.
Stiles woke up naked in the woods to an equally naked man staring at him. “Hello,” the man said. “I’m Peter. What’s your name?”
There was a command in those gentle words, and Stiles -
“I’m Stiles,” he answered. “What - ”
“I need your help, Stiles,” Peter said quietly, reaching out to cup Stiles’ jaw. “I showed you what happened to my family.”
“Fire,” Stiles murmured, not pulling away, not wanting to pull away.
Peter nodded, the hand on Stiles’ jaw shifting until claws pricked at his skin. Stiles swallowed nervously, but he knew, knew, that Peter wouldn’t hurt him unless he deserved it.
“Will you help me?” Peter asked, his other hand stroking over Stiles’ shoulder, splaying his palm over the no-longer-there bite.
If anything happened to Dad, Stiles would kill.
“Yes,” Stiles said.
.
(In a world where Scott was bitten, Derek and the pack watch the Stiles-wolf carefully. Stiles himself is intrigued, getting closer than anyone likes, but the Stiles-wolf hasn’t made a single threatening move.
When Peter slinks into the room, the Stiles-wolf looks at him and snarls, “You’re not my alpha.”
Stiles glances from Stiles-wolf to Peter and back. “Derek killed him a few months ago,” he explains, meeting his wolf-self’s eyes and not looking away. “Then he resurrected himself, somehow. No one’s bothered explaining it to me.”
Stiles-wolf nods, still not moving, and nobody else seems capable of doing anything, so Stiles asks, “You said yes?”
“I didn’t get a choice,” Stiles-wolf replies, shrugging. “But after the memory-dump, if I’d been given the choice - yeah, I would’ve.”
Derek growls and Stiles-wolf looks at him. “Alpha red’s good on you,” he says. “But if you come near me, one of us dies.”
Stiles slowly moves between them, not for a second thinking it’ll do any good if one of them decides to attack, and Peter says, “In your world - ”
“My alpha tore the Argents apart,” Stiles-wolf says, baring his teeth. “And most of the others responsible. I got Harris, the insurance guy, and one of the arsonists.”
“And the rest of my nephew’s wolves?” Peter asks, while everyone is just standing there horrified, and Stiles -
Stiles gets it. A part of Stiles even wants it, has wanted it since the parking garage, and Stiles-wolf’s gaze flicks back to him as he answers, “Isaac, yes. The rest are just kids at my school.”
“We need to send you back,” Stiles says.
Stiles-wolf tilts his head, scenting the air. “You’ve got the spark Deaton was talking about,” he says. “Wonder twins activate?”
Stiles nods. “I just read the book last night.”
Laughing, Stiles-wolf says, “So did I. Wishing real hard at the same time?”
Scott makes a small inquisitive sound, but Stiles can’t look away from how still Stiles-wolf is, how controlled. He makes all of Derek’s puppies look like newborns.
“I’ve wondered,” Stiles mutters.
Stiles-wolf’s eyes flash a bright, chill gold, and he mutters back, “So’ve I.”)
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of violence and minor character death; AU
Pairings: maybe sorta implied pre-Peter/Stiles?
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 170
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, I want people to tell their children terrifying stories about the things we did for love.
Adrian Harris is first, a gift for the boy. Six years ago, he was a drunkard who let a pretty blonde seduce him into murder. Now he is a dried up husk of a man who lives for tormenting his students, and Peter's new beta in particular.
Really, Harris has done most of the work himself, and the child has only his father's morals holding him back.
(His father's, not his. Oh, but Peter had chosen so well, high on the rush of being alpha.)
"We'll be completely bonded as alpha and beta," he tells the boy, watching Harris struggle uselessly. "Nothing will be able to come between us, or turn you from me."
The boy flicks at glance at him, heart steady, and shifts.
Peter hasn't managed the full shift yet, not like Talia or Laura, but this boy,his beta-
"Please, please, don't do this, you don't have to do this!" Harris blubbers, trying to scramble back.
Stiles lunges and Peter smiles as blood fills the night air.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of minor character death; AU; implied future dub-con and/or seduction at the behest of someone you can’t really say no to
Pairings: the Peter/Stiles is no longer implied
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 840
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any/any, someone ends up being turned into a werewolf or other supernatural creature, whereas in canon they were saved.
“My nephew,” Peter says, fingers stroking the back of Stiles’ neck.
“You want me to kill him?” Stiles asks, eyes closing in bliss.
“No,” Peter says, fingers tightening, claws breaking the skin, shaking the boy like a pup.
Stiles hisses, whining at his alpha’s displeasure. “I want to avoid killing my last living relative unless there is no other option,” Peter tells him, letting the claws rest against Stiles’ neck for another moment before resuming the stroking. He reels Stiles in, resting his cheek on the top of Stiles’ head.
“Get close to him,” Peter murmurs, tracing his fingers along Stiles’ spine. He has missed the closeness of pack, these past six years, an eternity trapped inside his head, with only humans for company. His pack, dead and gone. “Be where he is. Let him approach you. He’ll know what you are, but he’ll also know you’re too new to have ever hurt Laura.”
Laura. Oh, Laura. He’d held her when she was minutes old, his sister’s firstborn, his future alpha. He saw her first steps, ran with her during her first shift. He loved her like a daughter; he had no children of his own before the fire. He and Stefan had just begun considering it, had started talking about asking Veronica, his younger sister, to carry a child for them - and then the hunters trapped the pack and burned them all alive.
“And after I’m close to him?” Stiles asks, curling into him, tilting his head so that his ear is over Peter’s heart. Oh, Peter does so adore this boy.
“Seduce him,” Peter whispers, even though he knows it’ll hurt to watch. Stiles is nothing like Stefan except for the acidic wit, for the sarcasm neither of them can - could - turn off.
“What.” Stiles tries to jerk away but Peter’s arms tighten around him. “Peter, alpha - I can’t -”
“You can,” Peter says. “Maybe not sexually, but you’re a baby wolf, beta. Derek had a way with the pups, and he is a born beta. He’ll want to help you.” He chuckles, nuzzling the side of Stiles’ head, nibbling at Stiles’ ear. “Flail around a bit, babble at him. Act like you have no idea what’s going on - but don’t flat-out lie to him, Stiles. Born wolves are walking lie detectors.”
Stiles growls a little, sounding as dangerous as a newborn pup, and Peter wants… but not yet. Derek would be able to smell it on Stiles, and Stiles is still so young.
But soon, he tells himself. Stefan is gone. Stefan is gone, and Stiles is Peter’s in a way not even Stefan had been. Stefan was the youngest son of the head beta of a pack over in Arizona; Peter met him at college. Stefan had been fighting with the alpha’s son and refused to go home until he got an apology that would never be coming, so Peter invited him back to Beacon Hills when they graduated. They were friends for years before mating.
Stiles is Peter’s in every single way and he presses a gentle kiss to Stiles’ lips before pulling away, unwinding his arms from around Stiles. “You’re a good pup,” he says. “You’ll be magnificent as you grow.”
Stiles preens and quickly darts in, kissing Peter again. Peter lets him, reveling in the feel of him, the excitement, the knowledge that his pack is off to a wonderful start.
The sheriff turns his car onto the street so Peter pulls away again, standing. “Seduce my nephew, beta,” he says. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Will we be going after someone else soon?” Stiles asks quickly, following him to the stairs, bouncing in place.
“Yes,” Peter says, deciding his boy is so good, he deserves a reward. “Your chemistry teacher, in fact.” He pats Stiles’ cheek, caresses his jaw. “This weekend. Make contact with Derek and I might even let you have the fool.”
Stiles’ eyes widen and his mouth drops open. Peter can barely tear his gaze away, but the sheriff is now only a few houses away and while Peter may one day have to deal with the man, it’s not time yet.
“Goodbye, Stiles,” Peter says and hurries down the stairs, out the back door.
Derek can’t know that Peter is awake until he’s so wrapped up in Stiles he can’t pull away. Derek’s had six years to grow, to mature, to strengthen himself - Peter has an alpha’s power now, but he’s also spent six years trapped in a dying shell. He took Laura by surprise and he doesn’t have that advantage with Derek, who knows that there is something in town capable of taking an alpha in the prime of her life.
At the moment, Derek thinks it’s hunters, but soon enough, when the body count continues to rise, Derek will figure out otherwise.
And if he’s invested in Stiles…
Peter slips back into the hospital, brings back the burns to the surface, and pretends to be a catatonic shell.
Soon, he tells himself. So very soon.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of minor character death; AU
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 110
Point of view: third
Prompt: Author’s choice, author’s choice,
99 bullet-riddled bodies on the wall
99 bullet-riddled bodies
98 bullet-riddled bodies on the wall
98 bullet-riddled bodies...
Adrian Harris is the first person Stiles ever kills. He knows he should regret it, knows his father would be horrified, that his mother would be disgusted, that Scott would never look at him the same -
But Scott is dating a daughter of hunters, and Harris has never, not even once, given Stiles a reason to hesitate.
Harris helped kill Stiles’ alpha’s pack. He let a pretty little blonde trick him into revealing the best way to kill a houseful of people. Peter has explained everything he’s pieced together, that he got from Laura before she died.
Adrian Harris is the first. He’s not the last. Not by a long shot.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: mentions of major character death; AU; morality being flushed down the toilet; underage sexual shenanigans; an idiot boy being taken advantage of by a homicidal maniac and not quite realizing where the line is or even how to draw it, and then deciding there is no line after all
Pairings: Peter/Stiles, Scott/Allison
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 705
Point of view: third
A part of Stiles feels guilty. Dad’s having to work a lot of overtime because bodies are piling up. Stiles has to make nice with Scott’s girl even though he knows that this whole thing will end with her dying a bloody death because of her family. He’s making friends with a guy just so that the guy doesn’t have to be messily murdered.
But Peter needs him to do this. Alpha needs him.
(Three months ago, he didn’t even know Peter Hale. Three months ago, he was tromping around in the woods at night looking for a body.
Three months ago, he was deaf and blind and couldn’t smell a thing. Three months ago, he was weak.
But he’s strong, now. He’s something now, even if only he and Peter (and Derek) know it.)
Scott’s on a date tonight. With an Argent. Stiles didn’t even have to ask for Scott; Peter just worked around him, whispering his plans into Stiles’ ear with his fingers dancing around on Stiles’ back, pressing him further and further into the bed - but backing away, always backing away, whenever he edged up to Stiles’ limit.
“She’s here,” Peter said, breath hot on Stiles’ neck, “and we’re going to kill the girl so that she calls in the head of the family.”
“Too many feminine pronouns there.” Stiles shuddered in pleasure, eyes closing as his fingers shifted, claws digging into his bedspread.
Peter laughed softly, pulling back just enough for Stiles to breathe again. “Kate Argent,” he said crisply, hate in every syllable. “She’s back in Beacon Hills. You and I are going to kill her niece so that she’ll call in reinforcements.” He leaned down to nip at the base of Stiles’ neck.
“Reinforcements?” Stiles repeated, yelping when Peter bit down hard enough to draw blood.
“Their alpha,” Peter murmured into his skin, kissing the bite until it healed, and then biting again in the exact same spot.
“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, and Peter chuckled, “Not yet.” He pulled away, sitting up, and Stiles followed, turning to face him.
“The Argents are ruled by the wives, mothers, grandmothers - the oldest woman in the family is the leader.” Peter waited for Stiles’ nod to continue, “Chris and Kate Argent’s mother died a few years ago, I don’t know from what. She had no sisters and no female cousins, and her husband didn’t want to give up power.”
“So…” Stiles said, “Kate should be the head of the family and she’s not?”
Peter nodded. “I don’t doubt that she would’ve killed us without hesitating, but she needed someone to point her our way. And we’re going to kill them all, beta. Not the entire hunting clan, unfortunately, but everyone in the immediate family will die. Including your friend’s little lady love.”
And Stiles had said, “Okay, alpha,” even though he knew -
And Scott’s on a date tonight. With Allison, who is so sweet. Who tells Stiles he’s always welcome, who laughs at his babble (which has been fake, so fake, for three months, and no one has noticed), who asks him how his day is going, who always smiles.
She makes Scott so happy.
But she’s Kate’s niece. She’s Gerard’s granddaughter. Her family burned Alpha’s family alive, and Stiles has a choice right now.
Right now.
Because Allison isn’t that guy in the rental store, or the bus driver, or those fools in the woods. Allison isn’t Harris. Allison, in and of herself, hasn’t done a single thing to deserve what Peter’s going to do to her.
Peter’s waiting for Stiles. Allison is going to drop Scott off because his mom needed the car, and she’s going to drive home, and she’s never going to get there, and if Stiles calls Derek -
Peter’s howl thrums in Stiles’ bones and he drops the phone on the bed, jumps out the window, and runs to his alpha.
(A part of him feels guilty, when he lets Scott sob all over him about Allison. When Dad rants about wild animals and how someone has to be responsible, someone has to be turning the thing loose.
And Peter crawls into his bed, spreads out over his back, and whispers, “She called him.”
None of Stiles feels guilty after that.)
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: character death, grief/mourning, panic attack/asthma attack (written by someone who has neither)
Pairings: Scott/Allison
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 500
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, "It's okay." "No it's not!"
"Scott," Stiles says, sounding hesitant. Scott looks at his phone, confused, because Stiles hasn't sounded hesitant since the last time he broke one of Scott's transformers and that was, like, a decade ago.
"Stiles?" he asks. "What's wrong?"
He can hear Stiles take a deep breath. "I'm coming over there," he says. "My dad... I'm not supposed to know yet, but he - I'm coming over there."
Mom's at work, some conference that ran long. It's why she needed the car, why Allison had picked Scott up and dropped him off instead of the other way around. If Mom didn't have the car, it would've been Scott's turn. He could ride his bike to Stiles, but his breath is still shallow from Allison teaching him to use her bow.
"Stiles, what's wrong?" he asks again, but Stiles has already hung up.
So Scott has to wait.
.
Five minutes later, Stiles pulls into the driveway, which means he was already driving when he called. Scott waits on the porch, giving Stiles time to calm down, or whatever. It’s been a long time since Stiles had a panic attack, but Scott can clearly remember the last one. It was… horrifying. If Mom hadn’t been home -
But Mom was home. She’s not this time.
Stiles gets out of the jeep and slowly walks over to the porch, up the stairs. He doesn’t meet Scott’s eyes.
“I overheard my dad,” he says quietly. “On accident, this time. I’d just gotten home.” He looks at Scott for just a second before back down at the porch, and, yeah, Scott has noticed. Hell, everyone has noticed the sheriff’s son hanging out with an older guy, but Scott’s been waiting for Stiles to come to him the way he goes to Stiles about Allison. “He didn’t hear me come in,” Stiles continues, and now he’s wringing his hands.
What the hell could be so awful? This is almost like when Stiles’ mother died, when Dad left -
“Stiles,” Scott bursts in, because now it’s occurred to him, “my mom, is she - ”
“It’s not your mom,” Stiles says, voice barely there. “But something… Allison crashed into a tree, Scott, and something got her.”
He says more, but Scott can’t hear him. His breath is roaring in his ears, and he can’t catch it, and -
.
When he comes to, his mom is holding him and Stiles is beside them on the couch. “Oh, my baby, sweetie, lovie,” Mom is crooning, one hand stroking the back of his head. His face is buried in her shoulder and he still can’t quite catch his breath.
He can’t -
Not Allison -
He turns his head to look at Stiles. “Does your dad know?” he croaks out.
“Not yet,” Stiles says. “But it’ll - you’ll be okay, Scott. I swear you will.” His voice breaks, and Scott knows he’s thinking about his mom, how it’s been years and nothing’s okay yet.
Scott doesn’t say anything, just turns back to his mother and lets himself cry.
Title: all in a twilight, you and I alike
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Browning
Warnings: blood, death, gore, AU, major character death, and a dumb kid rationalizing away everything
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 510
Point of view: third
Prompt: Any, any, what you need is a good, old fashioned _____
Stiles wakes up to a howl thrumming in his bones. Dad’s asleep down the hall, home from an eighteen hour shift, and Stiles silently dresses before slipping out the window.
Peter is waiting at the edge of the preserve, smiling. “I have a gift for you,” he says, gently squeezing the back of Stiles’ neck.
“Another?” Stiles says, pressing up into the touch. “The insurance bastard was just a week ago.”
“I’ve been tracking them for over a month,” Peter tells him, tugging him into the preserve. “I remember them, their stench. They poured the gasoline.”
(screams wolfsbane fire)
Stiles snarls; Peter rumbles in reply and then they both go silent.
.
There are two drunk guys dancing around a fire. Their stench is in Stiles’ nightmares from Peter’s memories. When Stiles shifts, it’s not even consciously.
“Take your pick,” Alpha murmurs, stepping back.
The taller one laughs, throwing back another bottle of beer. His stench is stronger; he got closer to the house, that horrible night, so Stiles will leave him for Alpha. The smaller one bends down to grab a bottle and Stiles pounces.
Both of the men shout, but Stiles can’t hear them over the memory of fire roaring, of familypack screaming, and he doesn’t hesitate. The little guy’s blood is warm in his mouth, and bone splinters, tiny pricks that barely register on his gums, his tongue, down his throat.
The other one is screaming, begging, pleading, scrambling back on the dirt, eyes on Alpha. Alpha stalks forward, halfway into the shift, as far as Stiles has seen him go. Stiles licks his lips, watching avidly, and Alpha growls, “Watch and learn, beta. This is how we’re going to kill the Argents.”
With three kills in him, Stiles has been quick and messy. He watched Alpha tear the video guy apart, and it was nothing like this -
This is slow, calculating, and agonizing. The bastard can’t even whimper by the time Alpha is done.
Sunrise is an hour away when Alpha shifts back to Peter and gestures Stiles forward. “We’re taking them to the house,” Peter says. “We’ll burn them where we were burned.”
“Makes sense,” Stiles says, shrugging.
.
Dad gets up while Stiles is cooking breakfast. Dad’s still a bit sluggish but Stiles is wired. He took a scalding shower, scrubbed every inch of his skin, and burned his clothes miles away from where the scum was left smoldering in the ruins of the Hale house.
Dad knows something is up; of course he does. But Stiles starts rambling at him, and Dad chuckles, and there is simply no way Dad could ever guess the truth.
(Stiles doesn’t want him to guess the truth.)
.
(“You know what to do,” Alpha rumbles, eyes red as the blood he wants Stiles to spill.
Allison is whimpering as she regains consciousness.
“Do as I showed you,” Alpha croons, claws quivering as he restrains himself.
“Wha-what?” Allison mumbles, eyes blinking open for a second before closing again.
“Go wild, beta,” Alpha orders.
Alpha needs this. Alpha wants this.
(familypack
alpha)
Stiles snarls, “Argent.”)
continue