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bagadew · 24 days

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Tagged by @vonlipvig

Last song I listened to: We Like to Party (aka The Vengabus) by the Vengaboys. This damn song arrived inexplicably in my head this morning and WILL NOT leave. In an attempt to exorcise it like the demon it is, I listened to this song in its entirety. Unfortunately this didn’t work, and I now know more words to The Vengabus (it’s coming and everybody’s jumping, New York to San Francisco an intercity disco)

Last book I read: Which Way to Anywhere by Cressida Cowell, the writer of How To Train Your Dragon, doing a sci-fi story, of course I read and enjoyed this. I loved the dynamic between the siblings, the cool morally grey space teen, and watching a small magic baby forcibly adopt the space equivalent of OG Alvin the Treacherous. There were other less funny things I enjoyed (like the neat way it conveyed the fact that Daniel is living in a house that is effectively being haunted by his wife’s ex husband) but to be honest I don’t have the time to really go off on one, and this only makes sense to like 1% of you anyway.

Last film I watched: Oh jeez, it’s been a fair few weeks since I watched a film, and I sort of fried my brain with my own filming schedule. I’m 75% sure it was Kill Bill part 2 though, cos my brother and I realised we’d never seen The Kill Bill films, and it seemed like it would be our jam (and it was).

Last TV series I watched: Shogun. I’ve been watching it with my family every week, starting because Dad had read the book and wanted to watch it. As someone who knows basically nothing about that period of Japanese history, I’m finding it very interesting, and I feel like, weirdly, I’m getting a better understanding of some of the cultural influences behind some of the Japanese fiction I already know and enjoy.

Last video game I played: Trauma Center Under the Knife. Both a bastard game that I hate and a brilliant game that I love. The characters and story are great and I love them, but I’m pretty sure surgery is the thing I am worst at in this life and I should be struck off and never allowed in an operating theatre again. I am currently trying to kill an evil spider that lives on the heart of a child experiment (because this game is wild) and I am slightly scared that this isn’t the final boss of the game. In a thousand different universes that child has died of heart spider, but heart spider has to get lucky a thousand times… The Flailing Muppets Who Possess Derek Whenever He Does Surgery only has to get lucky once!

Last thing I googled: Trauma Center Savato strategy. Look The Flailing Muppets Who Possess Derek Whenever He Does Surgery needs all the help she can get, ok?

Last thing I ate: 3 packets of mini eggs. I got a lot of Easter chocolate to eat through.

Sweet, savoury or spicy: I alternate between preferring sweet and savoury dependant on an unknowable force beyond my control or understanding. Right now I like sweet things the best (hence the chocolate eggs).

Amount of Sleep: Full 8 hours baby! I finally fixed my sleep schedule out of necessity of not dying last week!

Currently Reading: Gideon the Ninth! Turns out this book is really good, I can see why you guys like it so much.

Currently watching: A documentary on Honey Ants, these creatures are cool and fucked up in a way I would love to apply to humans in a work of fiction. Living larders for instance are an incredibly messed up idea.

Tagging: @thelastlivingme @bluejaybytes @lightflame @saltykrispycake and whoever else wants to do it!

#hey now hey now hear what I say now…

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missshezz · 1 year

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Title: Grief

Summary: When the jar tips and pours out the emotions you placed inside, Rick is there to comfort you.

Rating: All Audiences

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, friendship, found family, bit of a character study, set during Rick’s time after his kidnapping

————————————————————

Whenever you saw Rick Grimes your heart bled anew.

Not because you were in love with him and there was no chance of him loving you back because he had a woman and child waiting for him, but because he reminded you of your brother, Derek.

It wasn’t their being of equal height or possessing the same lean body and sleek muscles.

Nor was it the mop of dark curls threaded with silver that crowned Rick’s head or the beard he’d forget to trim until you’d start calling him Grisly Grimes.

It wasn’t even the roll of his shoulders as he swung a shovel or axe, his slow, easy gait as he crossed the compound or the way he sat a horse.

Sure, Rick wore his gun-belt low on his hips like Derek did, favored plain white t-shirts or simple cotton button-downs, and preferred cowboy boots over sneakers or work boots.

Yes, he could be a muleheaded jackass, had a helluva temper when riled, and lacked the sense to duck a punch.

He was also kind, considerate, and compassionate.

Loyal to those who earned his trust and respect.

Rick was a born leader. People listened to him when he spoke. Followed him without question.

Asked his advice on matters. Worked alongside him because he wanted the same thing they did: a future.

All things they used to do before your sister-in-law, Charity took sick and died.

Leaving your brother to raise your niece and nephew.

Another thing he and Rick had in common.

Something you discovered while he recovered from the injuries he sustained after blowing up a bridge to stop a horde from reaching the community he had been leader of.

Like Derek, Rick had been an officer before the shit hit the fan.

Married young, had a son he lost in a tragic turn of events.

His wife died giving birth to a little girl he chose to raise as his own.

Rick got shot in the line of duty and ended up in a coma before the virus spread through the country like wildfire. He miraculously survived his injury despite the hospital collapsing before he could be medi-vac’d to the medical facility established in Washington. He went on to become the leader of a group of survivors he referred to as his family.

A family he swore he’d get back too.

They suffered an endless array of nightmares together, relying on each other to get through some dark and desperate times, and working together in order to create a future worth living.

Same as you and the people in your community.

During a severe thunderstorm he confessed his sins, admitted his failures as a father, husband, brother, and friend.

Told you he killed a whole lotta people in a war he should’ve never started.

Said he deserved to rot in hell for all the suffering he caused.

Your heart, broken still from Derek’s death, shattered further at the myriad of emotions — anger, guilt, sorrow, and loneliness most prevalent among them — carved into his face, and burning in the depths of his eyes.

Eyes the same rich shade of blue as Derek’s.

Crinkles appeared at the corners of those eyes as he smiled at something your ten-your-old niece, Faith said to him.

She was the only one who could coax a smile or laugh out of him.

Same as she could her father.

Well, you amended as Faith ran off towards her friends, before Derek took to marinating himself in the shit that passes for whiskey in this place.

That was where your brother and Rick differed.

Rick exorcised his demons by working himself pass the point of exhaustion every night.

Derek chose booze, pills, and to sleep with every woman in the camp.

Married or not didn’t matter to your brother.

Neither did Faith and Ryan.

No matter how much you begged, he refused to seek treatment for his alcoholism. Even threats to take Faith and Ryan and go to one of the other compounds fell on deaf ears.

Nothing and nobody could stop Derek.

Her brother was a massive, unmanned train on a collision course with another train.

One loaded with a ton of explosives.

Twenty innocent men died because I couldn’t figure out how to derail Derek.

Husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons.

Who hadn’t known your brother was so drunk he couldn’t see straight.

You don’t realize you’ve started crying until you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder and hear a soft, “Hey.”

You can’t bring yourself to look into Rick’s eyes.

“Thinking ‘bout your brother?”

You manage a nod.

All you can offer since the lump in your throat prevented you from doing much else.

“The hurt won’t ever go away but I promise it’ll get more bearable in time.”

You appreciated his stone cold truth over the carefully worded commiserations of the others.

You could deal with honesty.

Half-truths only made the hurt worse.

This world was cold, cruel.

All of them had suffered.

None in your mind more than Rick.

Losing a friend, sibling, parent or spouse was terrible enough.

To lose a child?

Well, that was simply unimaginable.

His son’s death would haunt Rick for the rest of his life.

For him, it was his greatest failure.

The ultimate sin.

Yours was your inability to stop your brother before he got himself and others killed.

A choked sob escaped you as the jar you stored your emotions in after Derek’s death tipped over and everything inside poured out.

Your knees buckled.

You’d have sunk to the ground if not for Rick catching hold of you before you made a real spectacle of yourself.

Not that you cared.

Grief dug raw wounds in your stomach, tore fresh holes in your soul, and shredded what little remained of your heart.

The hurt was so deep you thought you’d drown.

Not that you would.

You wouldn’t descend into the abyss like your brother did.

Faith and Ryan needed you.

You’d go on living beneath this shroud as the rain poured down, down, down.

For now, though, you’d let yourself weep.

Your head tipped forward, forehead resting against Rick’s chest as you let your tears flow free. Rick’s chest vibrated as he mumbled something. He shifted, settled you more comfortably against him, and rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles.

As Derek had done before his heart had gone hard, hard, hard.

“So-sorry for cryin’ on your shoulder,” you managed once the choking sobs stopped.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Rick produced a rag from his pocket that he handed to you. “It’s clean.”

You take it with a soft, “Thanks.”

He stayed as you wiped the tears away, not saying anything, but letting you know he was there if you needed him.

As you stood together under the dark clouds that gathered during your breakdown, you realized you might not be in love with Rick Grimes but you did love him.

As a brother.

One you decided to help get back to his family.

No matter what.

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #walking dead fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #flashing gif #animated gif #Scorp writes fanfiction

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noyzinerd · 2 years

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Stiles: Huh, that's weird. You haven't told me how great I am in a while. I mean, the Derek I know is constantly giving me praise.

The demon possessing Derek's body: Have I ever told you how breathtaking your dimples are?

Stiles: Oh, nevermind. Guess you're fine. My bad, Sourwolf.

Possessed Derek: Sourwolf?

Stiles: Dude, you love when I call you Sourwolf. But, of course, you would already know that if you were the real Derek Hale.

Possessed Derek: Of course. Just testing you.

Scott, pulling Stiles aside: Stiles! He's clearly possess-!

Stiles: Shhhhh! We'll exorcise him later, just let me have this!

Possessed Derek: *smiles widely* Dude, I'm glad you're my friend.

Stiles:

Stiles: Nope. Nevermind. I hate this. Change him back.

[Later]

Stiles: Good to have you back, dude.

Derek: *scowls* Don't call me 'dude'.

Stiles: There he is!

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #mieczysław stiles stilinski #tyler hoechlin #dylan o'brien #incorrect quotes #incorrect teen wolf #incorrect teen wolf quotes #Deep down Stiles wouldn't want to change a single thing about derek #And Stiles was just about to convince him to let him drive the camaro too

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 years

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Any Sterek fics where Stiles or Derek is a ghost? Not a demon or an angel, but specifically a ghost. Thank you 😁

I gotchoo, @sourwolf-stilinski!

Derek the Unfriendly Ghost by mirrorkill

(1/1 I 9,946 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles has to sell the house on Granger Street to keep his job. But no matter what he does, no one will buy it. Everything goes fine until he has to confess the reason why it's been on the market so long: it's haunted.

Determined to keep his job, Stiles decides that the best thing to do is exorcise the ghost. But when the ghost starts to become a lot more real to Stiles, will he still be able to get rid of him?

Can I Keep You? by wearing_tearing

(6/6 I 16,005 I Teen)

After practically being raised watching Buffy, The X-Files, and Ghostbusters, Stiles liked to think his reaction to seeing a shimmery shadow resembling a seventeen year old boy floating ten inches above ground and glaring fiercely at him wouldn’t be to let out a high pitch scream, try to karate chop him, and then, when that obviously didn’t work, throw a basketball at him.

A basketball that just went right through the boy’s stomach.

or, the Sterek Casper AU.

For Only Blood Can Wipe Out Blood (and only tears can heal) by EclipseWing

(6/6 I 34,605 I Mature I Stydia)

“You’re saying ghosts are real?” Lydia whispers. “Of course,” Allison smiles, “You’re looking right at one.”

It’s meant to be a fresh start. It’s not meant to turn into a real living horror story.

Spook: A Ghostly Love Story in Three Parts by zosofi

(3/3 I 38,154 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek is fifteen when he dies. He's been fifteen for six years when he meets Stiles. And then suddenly... suddenly things start looking up.

trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat by allourheroes

(16/16 I 40,471 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinski is a witch, so of course he believes in magic. He just hadn't expected it to manifest as some reality-defining, undeniable soul bond. With a dead werewolf. What the hell?

(Derek and Laura died in the fire, Scott still got turned, fate gets what it wants no matter how it has to do it, and there is a happy ending.)

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #pining #hurt/comfort #stydia #lydia martin

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christinesficrecs · 3 years

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hello, do you have some good Sterek fic where Stiles saves the hales??? thx

There are some fics here and also these ones.

Not a Spark, But a Burn by candyvan | 86.5K | Mature

Stiles was supposed to be exorcising a demon, okay? He does not have time for being pinned to the wall by Laura freaking Hale.

or that fic where Stiles is sent back in time and decides to be a meddler.

Time To Say Goodbye by matildajones | 34.3K

Derek finds an older version of himself at his front door, along with Stiles, a boy from the future.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #time travel #stiles saves the hales #klainer4ever11

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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

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The Witch and The Wolf Pt.44

Word Count: 2,497

Characters: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Rafael McCall (mentioned), Chris Argent (brief), Demon!Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, some minor characters death, actual shitty writing

A/N: this is like third-person omniscient sort of but not rly i guess

A/N 2: blech, I still have writer’s block so sorry for this one :/

Masterlist Series Masterlist

“(Y/N), it’s me, again. Call me back if you get this,” there was the 10th voicemail left by Derek, calling you once again.

Stiles was at Eichen House, Scott, Isaac, and Allison were trying to look for some sort of scroll, talking about exorcising the nogitsune out of Stiles. Derek and Chris sat handcuffed in cells, while the entire police department was out looking for you. The two of them stayed there for the day before being released. Derek still had no idea where you were.

Your cellphone soon became out of service, no way of contacting you at all.

“Derek!” Isaac ran into the loft frantically, snapping Derek’s attention away from you for a brief moment.

“What? What is it?”

“(Y/N)’s a demon,” he started.

“What?” Derek tensed up, clenching his jaw as he uncrossed his arms.

“How do you know?” he asked, running to Isaac.

“Because Agent McCall sent deputies out to go look for her, three of them supposedly died from a heart attack,” Isaac explained.

Damn it, Derek thought.

“Well, we need to trap her,” Derek said.

“How?”

“Help me find her spellbook. There’s a way to trap her until we figure out something else…” Derek started, before frowning.

“What book?” Isaac watched as Derek ran across the loft anxiously, looking for an old book of yours. The only possession of yours left.

“(Y/N) planned out a way to trap herself, until we found a cure. It’s in one of her old spell books, but I can’t remember where it is. It has to be somewhere here,” Derek shook his head.

“Well, let’s say we find the book. Do you have an actual plan?” Isaac crossed his arms.

Derek paused, leaning against the counter in distress before frowning, hearing his phone ringing.

“Hello?” he answered.

“I've been trying to get in touch with (Y/N) for some time now. I found a cure,” Derek tensed up, picking up the call from Deucalion.

He looked at Isaac, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What do we need to do?” Derek asked.

“Here’s what needs to happen…”

---

You walked alone in the woods, humming a soft melody as your eyes were black.

You stopped in your tracks, sensing someone behind you and you raised an eyebrow, turning around.

“Yes, officer?” you recognized his badge.

“(Y/N), you have to come with me,” he started.

“Praefoco,” you rolled your eyes, watching him stop in his words, gasping for air as he fell to his knees.

You laughed softly to yourself, walking away from the collapsed body on the floor.

You had killed four more people, experimenting in different ways you could kill people, with your heightened powers. Everything felt better, everything felt free. You didn't have a single care in the world and you loved it.

You stood in front of the Sheriff’s station, using your magic to listen in as you tried to make out who was in there.

“Just find her. I don’t care what it takes,” you heard his voice, hearing him put the phone down.

He was all alone inside. Half the department was out, looking for his mysterious masked stabber, while the other half was looking for you and other missing deputies. A shame they’d only find their bodies.

You could feel more and more anger flood your veins as you took a step, walking into the empty station.

You spotted Agent McCall, sitting alone on his desk as he looked at the paperwork.

You opened your mouth before taken by surprise, feeling some wrap their arm around your waist, pulling you back.

Your eyes glew black as you pushed him off of you, seeing Derek standing behind you.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Oh, you found me. Great,” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I did. Now come with me,” he wrapped a pair of handcuffs on your wrists, pulling you out of the police station.

“What the hell are these? What the hell are you doing to me?” you tried to use your powers, trying to break free, but finding yourself unable to do so.

“Yeah, they're spelled. We’re gonna cure you, (Y/N),” he held onto your arm tightly, walking with you as you laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, not possible,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well Deucalion found something,” Derek said.

“You’re boring,” you sighed.

He ignored your remarks, taking you to the woods.

---

“You killed four people?” you sat in a chair, your hands and legs tied up behind you. There was a devil’s trap on the ground.

“Is that judgment in your voice, babe?” you scoffed.

“Those four people were innocent,” he shook his head.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap. Like you've never ruined an innocent life before,” you rolled your eyes.

“That's-” he started.

“That bus driver was innocent. That witch was innocent. Paige was innocent. Erica was innocent. Boyd was innocent. Don’t judge me for killing when you’ve killed too,” you glared at him, seeing his face drop slightly as he turned his back to you.

“That’s different,” he said.

“No, it really isn’t,” you made a fake pouty face as he walked over to you, holding a syringe in his hand.

“What the hell is that?” you asked.

He put his hand on your head, pulling it to the side as he stuck the needle into your neck, while you screamed out.

“It’s blood. It’s holy blood, and it’s the only way to cure you,” he replied.

You breathed heavily, slumping in your chair as your eyes glew black.

“You’re gonna regret that,” you yelled.

“Yeah, okay,” he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he sighed, looking down at you.

Several thoughts brown through his head, praying that this would work and that you would be okay. He already knew what would happen when you came to, all the nightmares, remembering all the people who you killed as they haunted your dreams.

“Derek,” you whispered.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow as he frowned, seeing your eyes water.

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly.

“Derek,” you sniffled.

He tensed up, seeing a tear slip down your face as he ran to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I-I didn’t… I thought I’d need to do that a couple of times, i-is it… are you okay?” he immediately asked.

“Just get these off of me,” you said.

He stroked your cheek softly, before frowning.

Crap, he knew

“Derek, take these off of me,” you said.

“I almost fell for it,” he scoffed, before walking away from you.

“Ugh, I was close, wasn’t I? But really, that’s all it took? A tear? Weaker than I thought, Hale,” you smirked.

He picked up his book, leaning against the wall once more.

It was going to be a long night.

---

“Why do you care so much about getting me back? New and improved right here,” you laid back in the chair, leaning your head back.

“Improved? People are dead,” he walked to you, holding yet another syringe in his hand.

It was obvious that he wanted out of there. Tired of putting up with your tormenting remarks about him. You never seemed to give him a break, continuously insulting him. He tried to tell himself that you didn't mean it, it was the demon talking. You loved him and you would never say that stuff to him. As time went on, it became harder and harder for him to convince himself. But he still wasn’t going to leave you to suffer.

“Everything that you claim is wrong with me, is entirely your fault,” you said as he froze.

“What do you mean?” he stiffened.

“I lost control because of you. I killed my dad because of you. This whole thing started because of you. Don’t you remember that night? When I came to your loft? Don't you remember what you said to me?” Derek felt instant regret in his heart, remembering.

“You told me you never loved me, we only got together because we were lonely. Well, you were right, Derek. I never loved you. I never forgave you. We weren't meant to last.”

Derek ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hold in his emotions as he tried not to let your words get to him.

“I didn't mean what I said. I was under a spell,” he started, lowering his voice.

“That spell cost lives. That spell widowed a woman and orphaned her children,” Derek frowned, slightly confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you. Yeah, my dad got remarried! To someone else, and he had some more kids. He left us in the dust, all alone, all fucked up,” you laughed softly.

“You didn't tell me that-” he started.

“Probably because I don’t still don’t trust you,” you shrugged.

“That’s not…” Derek was at a loss for words as he looked down at you.

“You broke my heart, Derek. You broke me. I won’t be able to trust you again,” you looked at him, giving him an annoyed look before smirking.

“Oh, I’m getting to you, aren’t I? You know I'm right, Derek,” you laughed bitterly.

He clenched his jaw, grabbing your head as he stabbed the syringe into your neck, hearing you scream out in pain as he dug his nails into his palm.

He pushed away from you harshly, immediately leaving the room before a tear fell from his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

She doesn't mean it he tried to convince himself, but it didn't matter. Deep down he knew you were right, he never wanted to admit it to himself. You would be better off without him.

---

Derek’s head shot up, hearing a loud noise of something crashing. He ran into the house, immediately running to you, hearing someone yelling.

Isaac, he recognized.

You stood over him, as he dropped to his knees in front of you, struggling to breathe.

“(Y/N)!” he ran to you, grabbing the handcuffs before you pushed them away from him.

“I warned you,” your eyes were pitch black as Isaac whimpered softly, falling over to his side, unconscious. Derek could hear a faint heartbeat, knowing Isaac was alive.

You whispered something softly, as Derek struggled to move, finding himself pinned against the wall.

You grabbed the pocketknife, which sat on the table as you walked to Derek slowly.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” you held the knife against his throat as he clenched his jaw, looking down at you.

“Don’t do this (Y/N). I know you’re still in there somewhere. The real you, not this demon bitch,” he took a deep breath.

“I am (Y/N), Derek. This is me. I’ll save you the trouble of having to see me like this anymore,” he winced softly, feeling the blade break into his skin, drawing blood.

“Yeah, maybe not,” Derek heard Isaac’s voice, as he took a needle, stabbing it into your neck.

You dropped the knife, as Derek gasped for air, falling to his knees. Your eyes reverted back to their natural color, as your body went limp, falling over.

Isaac reached for Derek, helping him up before wrapping his arms around him, taking Derek by surprise. He stiffened first, before wrapping his arms around Isaac’s shaking body.

---

You squinted your eyes, groaning softly as you sat up, looking around cautiously.

Memories came flooding as your eyes watered, remembering everything.

“(Y/N),” you heard Derek’s voice as you jumped slightly, looking back at him in shock.

A son escaped from your mouth, before he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your head, trying to calm you.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you cried.

He remained quiet, his eyes red as he felt a tear stream down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

---

Your mind drifted off, remembering the events from the past day as you sat on Derek’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He lent you a shirt, seeing as all your other clothes were gone.

“Derek,” you said softly as he walked into the room.

He inhaled softly, sitting down next to you.

“Please, just say something,” your voice wavered slightly.

“I have nothing to say,” he whispered.

“I know you do. Just, please,” you begged.

“I just…” his voice drifted off as he shook his head.

“Derek,” you put your hand on his shoulder.

“We need to stop this,” he said, running his fingers through his hair as he turned to face you.

“Stop what?” you said, although you already knew the answer.

“This isn’t good for us anymore, I think we should call it,” Derek’s eyes watered slightly as he stood up, looking down at you.

“Derek, no-” you started.

“I love you, (Y/N), you know that I love you. But, I don’t… I don’t think you’ve ever loved me as much as I love you,” his voice was low as he looked away from you.

“No, Derek, I-I swear that’s not true,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N),” he started.

“It’s not true, you have to believe me. E-Everything I said, I didn't mean it, I swear,” your voice wavered as you looked up at him.

“You didn't say anything that wasn’t true,” he rubbed his eyes as he looked back at you.

“Derek,” you started.

“J-Just listen to me, (Y/N),” his voice broke as he looked at you.

“We don’t work together. We always argue, there’s always something in between us. We tried to tell ourselves we could get past it, but we can’t,” he said.

“We can get past it. We just have a few problems to work out,” you sniffled.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

“W-What do you mean? O-Of course I do,” you let out a soft chuckle, trying to hide your tears as you frowned.

“Don’t lie to me, please (Y/N). Do you or do you not trust me,” he asked again.

“Derek, I do,” you replied, more and more tears streaming down your face.

“Then why didn't you tell me any of this before? About your dad and his family? That it was my fault you killed him in the first place?”

You bit your lip, holding back your cries as you shook your head, putting your hand over your mouth.

“Exactly. You need to… You need to go,” he whispered, looking away from you.

You could feel your heart aching, feeling your head pounding as more and more tears rushed to your eyes, blurring your vision.

You pushed yourself out of his room, running away.

---

You knocked at Chris’ door softly, blinking back your tears as he gave you a concerned look, opening the door.

“(Y/N)? Where have you been?” he asked.

Your vision blurred as more tears came to your eyes

“C-Can I stay with you?” you cried softly.

He nodded his head, wrapping his arms around you before leading you into the apartment.

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princeescaluswords · 4 years

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A Pattern of Violent Behavior

I have to admit that I might tend to overreact to fandom nonsense, but it costs me nothing except time and the tediousness of anti-Scotts who approach MAGA levels of malicious memory loss. One of the drawbacks of my inability to let things go is that sometimes a particular post gets stuck in my head, and it remains there until I exorcise the demons. This post has reply from a commentator that I can’t get out of my head.

I’ve already dealt with the idea that Scott is not a hypocrite for having the unfilled and unpursued desire to kill Peter in Season 1. I’ve dealt numerous times with the idea that Scott failed to kill Gerard, most recently by pointing out that, while dangerous, neither Scott nor any other character regarded it as a failed assassination attempt. That leaves only the argument “managed to get massive amounts of people killed through my unwillingness to kill actual villains.”

Unfortunately, I have to agree. Scott didn’t let Derek Hale die and everyone suffered for it. He had the chance:

Stiles: You know, you probably lost it when you two were fighting. You remember that, when he was trying to kill you, after you interrupted him trying to kill Jackson? Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behavior here?

Scott: He wasn't going to kill anyone. And I'm not letting him die.

Stiles: Could you at least think about letting him die? For me? What?

If only Scott had listened to Stiles! Since Stiles is always right, his best friend should have recognized that it’s for everyone’s best interest that Derek Hale die at the hands of the Argents. Imagine how many people’s lives would have been saved!

Jackson would not have bitten, so Coach Lahey, Bennet, Tucker, Sean, Jessica, Kara, four deputies, and Matt would not have died. Body count: 11

The Alpha Pack would not have come for Scott and/or Derek, which means that the Darach wouldn’t have made an appearance either. So none of the twelve sacrifices, that unfortunate Ambulance driver, Ennis, Kali, Erica, Boyd, and Jennifer herself wouldn’t have died. Body Count: 18

With no Alpha Pack/Darach War, the drowning ritual would not have been completed and Stiles wouldn’t have been possessed by the nogitsune. That means Katashi and his men would still be alive, those two people electrocuted at the hospital, at least one dead deputy dying due to the bomb, the two deputies dying at the police station, and the minimum of four people dying at the hospital, Allison and Aiden. Body count: 16+

And since Allison didn’t die, Meredith wouldn’t have started the Dead Pool. That means the Walcotts, DiMarco, Carrie Hutchinson, the ten members of Satomi’s pack, Brunski, the six-plus rogue hunters, the nameless female hospital assassin, the six-plus Cavalveras, and two Berserkers wouldn’t have died. Body Count: 32+

According to Valack, the Dread Doctors only returned when Scott, Stiles, and Allison reignited the Nemeton, so we can put the nine permanently dead chimeras, the twenty-three dead found in the tunnels, the dozen plus found in the school bus trap, at least one dead teacher, the Dread Doctors themselves, and Sebastian Valet, again. Body count: 49+

And then there’s the rampage of the Anuk-Ite and Monroe, neither of which would have happened. That means Deucalion, Aaron, Edgar, the four bodies in the freezer, the Primal Pack, Quinn, the Eichen orderly, all the residents of the Closed Ward, Satomi Ito, Brett, Lori, the rest of the Ito pack, four hunters, Kate Argent, and Gerard Argent. Body count: 24+

Final Body Count: 145+

All that because Scott wouldn’t let Derek die. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Shame on you, Scott. Shame on you.

I think even the most sarcasm-challenged of my audience can get the point of this little exercise. If, as the commentator argued, Scott was in the wrong for not executing anyone who could be a threat, then he was wrong for not letting Derek Hale die immediately after Scott stopped him from murdering Jackson in Co-Captain (1x10) and only a little bit after Derek betrayed Scott to Peter, regardless of Derek’s oh-so-tragic-backstory, intent to do good, or possibility of growth. We could easily do the same type of calculus for Peter, Stiles, and Theo.

The only possible counter they have is that things could have gotten worse if Derek was dead. Leaving aside the fact that Derek was essentially useless in stopping Peter, I’m sure that Scott, Stiles, and the Argents could have figured out a way to stop the evil alpha. Hell, with Scott as a normal alpha, the Alpha Pack has even less reason to come. What about Scott being an unstable omega? Scott was an omega for eight months with no sign of instability. What about Deucalion? Deucalion didn’t kill anyone after Scott and Derek let him go. What if Scott had murdered Theo on Stiles’s say-so -- then Lydia, Malia, Stiles, Liam and Hayden would be dead.

Scott recognizes that not only does he not have the ability to tell the future, he doesn’t have the right to try. He stops characters trying to kill other characters, but he doesn’t base that on what they might do or what they have done, but what they are doing.

Though the bottom line is, people like the commentator wanted Scott to get out of the way of the Hales murdering Jackson and the Argents. They wanted him to execute the characters they didn’t like -- like Gerard, Deucalion, Jennifer, etc, but they didn’t want him to execute the characters they did like -- such as Derek, Peter, Theo, etc. There’s no hypocrisy in Scott’s moral stance, and no one injudiciousness.

I can’t help but wonder if the real world wouldn’t be better off if we all agreed that everyone has a right to life regardless of whether we liked them or not.

#teen wolf racism #scott mccall defense squad #morals and ethics #scott mccall #teen wolf fandom problems

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

Where the Crossroads Meet Ch 2

Summary: As reality breaks down, heroes and villain meet for the first time and Dark sees another demon for the first time in decades.

<= PREVIOUS

Chapter 2: Collision

Reality itself was bending and twisting, sliding apart and crashing together like it was a series of gears being forced into specific places. The earth collapsing and sliding together as people and objects were thrown about.

A river appeared in Egoton where it had never been before, and a haunted lake filled with dark, cursed magic hanging over it like a cancerous, poisoned miasma appeared in Gainesville.

Dark was working at his desk, things had calmed down a bit since he’d yelled at Wil over the phone. Once he was in prison he’d set a timer and then go and pick Wil up. But Dark was in a meeting about the network when he felt something similar to the Manor ripping it’s way through the room.

The Entity shuddered violently, feeling like the body he was in was absolutely freezing.

“Dark?” Edgar asked, the young enforcer looking at him in concern.

The shuddering didn’t pass, Dark felt wrong, that something was terribly wrong and it was about to get worse.

Standing up, Dark was already pulling up as much of his aura as he could. “Get everyone inside their warehouse! Now! Tell them to hunker down!”

Edgar flinched momentarily before him and the other captains and lieutenants Dark had been talking to, began to run out the door as quickly as they could.

Dark was already trying to open up a portal into the Void but it wasn’t letting him access it so he pushed himself through the crowd. “Move!”

Quickly getting outside, Dark spread his aura as far as he could and grabbed all thirteen of the warehouses, pushing anyone who was outside inside. The ground was spilling and shaking, warping as buildings crashed into other buildings that appeared out of thin air and then disappeared as the ground was spilling apart.

“Dark!” Silver flew over, looking around. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, you’re the hero, do something about it!” Dark spat at him, he didn’t want to keep yelling at Silver. Any concentration he gave to the hero was concentration away from forcing his aura over the warehouses, and the ground was splitting under one of them so he had to hold it up over the gaping maw in the ground.

“Any chance you could do that to the rest of the city?” Silver said, clearly noticing the space Dark was covering.

“No!” Dark grunted. “Make yourself actually useful, and save my town already.”

Silver let out an audible huff, flying off, “Not your town, shitlord!”

Dark saw him doing his best to safely catch people in buildings and evacuate them so he didn’t spare Silver another thought.

Something flashed in front of him, but Dark tried to ignore it, it was a human face that was half gaunt on one side and literally scaly. The face seemed equally surprised to see him but it was gone and Dark was focusing on keeping his network physically afloat.

The Entity was frantically looking around, he was having trouble drawing all his power from the Void. His connection was getting stronger but with how much chaos was spreading through the city, it was better to drop the warehouses back on solid ground the instant he could.

Quickly observing the ground around him, Dark found out that the ground wasn’t just splitting, it was dividing as if something new was being added in. Dark followed the space his warehouses had been over, trying to keep all over them over solid ground.

After another couple minutes of his city heaving and collided with what looked like an ever changing city. But Dark was able to set the warehouses down, trying to get them in the same places as they were before, pulling his aura back as quickly as he could.

One of his newer captains ran out, Dark thought his name was “Derek”. “Hey, boss, what’s going on?”

“Get back to work,” Dark yelled at him. “And if you find Wil, stab him immediately.”

“Uh,” Derek looked nervous and more than a bit terrified. “Sure, boss.”

Dark took the time to relax, letting his aura seep back towards the Void where it belonged, the town was various degrees of ruined and destroyed around him but he’d deal with that after a cup of coffee and locking Wil in the Void until he figured out what was going on.

While he was relaxing on top of his main warehouse Dark felt and heard a violent and electrical-sounding tear in the Void. The Entity looked up to see a glitchy green figure fling itself out of the Void and instant look at Dark with a huge smile.

Dark stood up, trying to get as much information about what he was pretty sure that what he was looking at was a demon.

“Well, well, well,” the glitch demon was clearly sizing Dark up, even his voice glitching up. “Nice muscle show, suits. Still got any power left?”

Dark used his aura to brush off any dust on his suit, not taking his eyes off the rival demon. “I have more than enough. But you’re in my city and I’d like you to leave.”

Looking about as intimidated as if Dark had pulled a puppy out of his back pocket and thrown it at the rival demon, the glitch demon looked around for a bit before pointing to a corner of the street, “Yeh fookin’ me sideways? I pissed on that wall. That’s my territory.”

Dark scowled at him, already deciding he hated the creature and was going to have him painfully exorcised.

“So, what’s yer name, mine’s Anti,” Anti smiled sharkishly.

“If I cared for your name I would have asked,” Dark dismissed angrily. “The only thing I’m concerned about is the time you are wasting me by breathing.”

Anti summoned a serrated knife and tapped it to his chin, “You remind me of this old fookin’ geezer I met, I can practically smell the magical rot on yah. I think I’ll call yeh Raccoon Eyes.”

“It’s Dark, you sufferable brat,” Dark snarled. “And I will decorate my territory with your blood and mount your head on a pike.”

Anti scoffed, almost laughing, which was only making Dark angrier, his form splitting and fracturing. “Right, like I’m real scared ‘a the shambling corpse who thinks his cheap guyliner is a good substitute fer the shadows ‘a eternal darkness.”

Something in Dark’s self-control just snapped and he lunged, Anti summoning a ring of knives around him as Dark gathered as much of the Void’s magic around him.

Wilford was walking down an unfamiliar street, when the world had started breaking and rearranging itself Wilford had held onto the box until he could safely store it in his part of the Void. Now all he had to do was find Dark.

Problem was: he had no idea where he was or where Dark was.

“Huh,” Wilford furrowed his mustache a little bit. “My mind must be failing me more than I thought. Dark? Dark!”

Then Wil shrugged and pulled out his favorite revolver and just started emptying the cylinder into the air. People screamed, ducking away from him and trying to put as much distance between them and the madman with a revolver.

Wil waited for a minute for Dark to show up, and when that didn’t happen he flipped open the wheel, dropping the empty cylinder and started to reload it. “Huh, must be in a meeting.”

The madman pointed it at a crowd of people and began firing.

Jackie, who had suddenly found himself on a different street then where he’d been with J.J inside the crumbling bank, had heard gunshots and started immediately running towards the pandemonium. The instant he saw the gun firing and he immediately dashed in to move the bullets out of the way, the gun clicking uselessly.

“Yo, barbershop singlet!” Jackie called to the man as he stood in-between the shooter and the crowd. “Did ye lose yer way ta yer shop or did the other guys ‘a yer quartet leave yah hangin’?”

Wilford stared at the hero in red, tapping his bottom lip with his gun, “I’m sorry, have we met.”

“Nah,” Jackie told him, “but don’t suppose yah can stop shooting at people?”

“Well I’m only poking people to find my boyfriend, normally he shows up after the cops do,” Wil explained. “Name’s Wilford Warfstache, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Jackieboy Man,” Jackie introduced hesitantly. “So you find your boyfriend or the police, and you’ll stop shooting people?

“Oh post-haste,” Wilford promised, jumping up a little bit.

“So can we put the gun away?” Jackie asked.

“Oh this?” Wilford waved it around it a bit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackieboy Man tried not to seem rattled.

Wilford smiled, pocketing his gun, it disappearing into thin air to Jackie’s concern and confusion, “Okay, Darky lives on Hill Road.”

“Well we can start with the police station, it’s three blocks down the road,” Jackie offered.

The man shrugged, “Okay.”

Wilford held his arm out, “Lead the way.”

Jackie started walking with Wilford, trying to keep him distracted and non-violent. “So, buddy, where yah from?

“Egoton,” Wilford smiled. “Lived there almost my whole life.”

“Where’s that?” Jackie asked.

Wil stopped, his mustache furrowing, “I’m not sure. You know, I’ve never had problems getting back home until now. I always just find my way back to him and the House.”

“Well, we’ll get yah there soon buddy,” Jackie clapped him on the shoulder.

Wilford smiled, reminding Jack of an overgrown puppy. Then he pepped up, “Oh, I know where we are!”

Jackie, at that moment, became acutely aware that he wasn’t in Althone, he was somewhere else. “Where’s that?”

“We’re near the Oakren, Darky owns this place,” Wilford exclaimed, running up to it. “I’ll give him a call.”

Jackie started to follow him in, but froze when he heard a series of loud explosions off in the distance.

In another part of town Virgil was standing along the street, confused. Just a couple seconds ago he’d been cowering from the earthquake next to Janus and now he was in a place he’d never been before. He fought the urge to look like a five-year-old lost in a mall and waiting to get kidnapped by some stranger.

He didn’t have long to think about calling out before the ground was shot around him.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted angrily before he saw some guy in a grey hoodie holding what Virgil was fairly certain was a NERF gun. “What the?”

“We told yeh freaks not ta come back inta town!” He shouted, clearly not an American. “Or did yah have yer ears clogged with rotting flesh?”

Virgil recoiled in disgust, “Hold up, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Nah, not falling for that again,” he told him.

Whatever he said was lost on both of them when part of the building next to them exploded and something flew towards them.

Virgil yelped, flinching back and waiting to get hit.

“Anti! What the hell?”

Virgil pulled up his hood a bit to see his attacker arguing with a guy picking himself off the ground and floating in green and black glitchy static.

“Hey, Average?” The glitchy creature smiled at him. “Yer not using yer body right now, are yah?”

“Of course I am!” Average shouted, angry and clearly terrified.

The glitch demon made a disbelieving face, “Nah, I need it more. Don’t worry, I won’t give it back too badly damaged.”

“No!” Average shouted but Anti turned into static and just jumped into the guy, his eyes turned into staticky green and he turned towards the broken building as everything went grey and Virgil tried to put as much distance between him and the situation as possible

“Howdy, fooker!” Anti shouted at the Entity as he ported in, lifting up Chase’s gun. “Ready fer round two?”

Virgil was grabbed by Janus who was trying to keep Virgil behind him. “Dee, what’s going on?”

“Nothing good,” Deceit hummed. “But we might be able to come out ahead if we play this right.”

“Get out of that pathetic meat sack,” Dark shouted, throwing his aura up as a shield against the foam projectiles. “If you can’t be bothered to fight me for real, then go back to Hell.”

“You first,” Anti forced Chase to say. “Why don’t yah step out of yer own rotting flesh sack an’ we’ll call it even. That can’t be good on the joints.”

“Just,” Dark groaned. “I just want you to die so I can get back to work, is that so hard?”

“Yes!” Anti shouted. “Yah were on my turf.”

Janus clapped, drawing attention to him and Virgil. “So which of you fine fellows do I have to thank for breaking apart space and time?”

“What are you doing?” Virgil croaked, hiding behind Janus.

“Oh that’s right, show fear in front of the demons,” Janus scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“If I wanted advice from the peanut gallery, I would have asked,” Dark growled.

“Yeah, fook off,” Anti shouted.

“What concerns me far more is that our towns have merged, and you two are fighting, spending your energy battling each other when we could be making the most of the situation. Besides, we’re looking for our compatriot and he’s attracted to chaos not rampant destruction.”

“Fookin’ brainy, ain’t yah,” Anti rolled his eyes, before looking back at Dark, “come on, 3-D Tinitus, let’s do this.”

“Quiet,” Dark scoffed, manifesting an echo to observe Janus closer as he kept his eyes on Anti. “I have too much to do today to get involved in a pointless scuffle with you.”

“Buzzkill,” Anti scoffed. “Maybe I should have grabbed the magician instead, least he can set stuff on fire.”

Dark was already trying to summon a portal to force Anti through to buy himself at least a couple minutes of peace and quiet to think of how to get himself out of this mess without being stabbed in the back.

That thought was derailed when a ripple that cut through time itself tore through the little alley they were standing in.

“Shit!” Anti spat, looking around. “Where’s that fooker?”

Deceit and Virgil looked confused, Virgil clinging a bit tighter to the other side. Dark, however, realized that there was someone nearby messing around with the time stream and he only knew of Wil who could affect those around him. He was trying to find the madman’s aura but saw no trace of it.

“Anxiety!” A voice shouted, impossibly behind Deceit and Anxiety, despite no one standing there mere seconds ago.

The two Sides turned to see Logan in his costume staring at them.

“Hey! Where’d you come from?” Anxiety spat, Dark and Anti were looking at the new addition to their group.

“Da fook are you?” Anti asked.

Logan took out a stick and he hit the end of it and it erupted into fire.

Anxiety screamed, reflexively letting out a burst of his fear waves, engulfing the area around him.

Dark flinched, more out of surprise than fear, he did get a brief glance of a body in a red robe hitting the floor with a sickening wet thud and dark soulless eyes looking at him. His twin souls roiled a bit before Dark pulled them all out of its effects, assured that he would be braced the next time it happened.

Thankfully, no one noticed Dark’s little crisis because Janus was a bit too preoccupied calming Anxiety. The wave was so strong it spooked Chase enough to wake up and panic enough that the fear pushed Anti out of his mind.

“AHHHHHH!” Chase screamed, and fell to the ground. J.J was there to catch him and with Logan’s help the two ran off with Chase.

“You!” Dark yelled at Deceit. “Control him, or I will.”

“Little fooker cost me a good host,” Anti spat, a serrated knife in his hands, knowing that by this point Chase was too unconscious and frazzled to be any use to him.

“I didn’t expect them to come out of nowhere,” Deceit shouted, casting an illusion in front of his eyes to calm him down, Anxiety was looking around wildly. “Logic is dangerous but last I saw of him he couldn’t appear out of thin air!”

“Give me five minutes an’ he’ll be plunged inta the fifth layer ‘a Hell,” Anti promised.

“You can have the techno manic, so long as I get to have a talk with his friend,” Dark dismissed.

“Oh, Jay? Sure as long as yeh don’t fook him up too bad, been wanting to see how his body ticks,” Anti agreed.

“I make no promises,” Dark warned, as Janus frantically tried to think of a way to make this better and not get Logan killed outright. The brainiac was annoying and bullheaded, but he was still a Side.

NEXT =>

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abysswhiskey11 · 5 years

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The demon held the entire pack against the wall.

They were thrashing but to no avail. Their air supply was slowly being cut off. Derek could hear their coughs and wheezes over his own. He felt helpless.

You knew the town had various supernatural creatures, the minute you arrived in town. The smells were overwhelming. You wanted to sty under the radar, knowing Heaven was after you. It wasn’t your fault for killing your angel brother when he tried to kill you.

You stayed away from the Pack, and tried to hid your scent. But, curiosity had gotten the better of you. It was the reason you had followed them, a little behind, out of the werewolves’ range.

But now, you were sprinting. Crashing through one of the windows, you immediately tackled the demon. It made him loose it’s grip on their throats. You could hear them gasping for precious air.

Derek watched you with awe, and confusion. Your smell wasn’t like any. He didn’t know what you were, yet, he felt safe. His gaze never moved from you, and you swiftly took down the demon and exorcised it, saving the man it was possessing. He didn’t even remember dropping down to the had floor, till he smelled everyone’s confusion, anxiousness and uncertainty.

You moved towards them, hands raised in surrender. Suddenly, you felt your heart beat quicken when you locked eyes with the dark-haired werewolf. Derek. The man who had intrigued you since the day you saw him.

Malia growled at you, which got your attention. Half smirking, you remarked, “Did anyone request a guardian angel?”

Derek’s jaw dropped as your wings unfurled.

#derek hale x reader #teen wolf imagines #derek hale imagines #angel!reader #tyler hoechlin

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thebestbooksaround · 4 years

Text

Fics I Love

Not a Spark, But a Burn by candyvan

Kate Argent / Derek Hale | 86k | Mature

Stiles was supposed to be exorcising a demon, okay? He does not have time for being pinned to the wall by Laura freaking Hale.

or that fic where Stiles is sent back in time and decides to be a meddler.

"So maybe next time we meet, I'll be someone else. I'll be better. I'll be different. Maybe next time, I will be a spark, and I will burn this fucking world to the ground." - R.M. Drake

#fics i love #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #candyvan #kate argent

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abaddoned · 4 years

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. ﾟ * ｡･ ( alycia debnam-carey / cisfemale / she/her ) — wait, is that LILLITH DESDEMONA HAWTHORNE walking down the street? i’ve heard the TWENTY-TWO year old PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR happens to be a DEMON. apparently they’re really -STUBBORN & -ALOOF, but surprisingly +LOYAL & +INTELLIGENT. I always think of CIGARETTES and NEON LIGHTS when i hear their name. ( dae, 25, she/her, pst )

name: lillith desdemona hawthorne

birthday: july 29th

gender: cisfemale

sexuality: pansexual

personality.

+ loyal, intelligent, confident

- stubborn, aloof, chaotic

aesthetic.

neon lights / cigarettes / leather jackets / grunge fashion / fueled by coffee / insomnia / butterfly knives & other swords / setting fire to your home / music drifting out open windows / whiskey & open wounds / tattooed arms / scars littering skin / black liquid flowing down concrete stairs / smoke screens & chipped nails / bergamot & black chamomile

about. triggers: suicide / death / blood

lillith, a demon of noble blood, house of abaddon, kingslayers & miscreants, tyrants & knaves, named after the queen of hell herself. her true age spans centuries &, at this point, is deemed unimportant to any & all creatures that roam the scorched landscapes of the underworld. created by two demons of noble houses & high ranking knights in the army of the devil, she was made to decimate cities. a true killer she must be, but left alone to her own devices, she chose differently.

family meant nothing to demons. you may share the same blood, but when it all comes down to it, everyone is out for themselves. she spent most of her time with a caretaker / instructor, as was customary for many new demons, especially those of higher rank.

she had trained with them day after day, learning to control her powers & harness new affinities. when she had completed the years of grueling training & exercises, she could’ve been commander of an army. however, lillith was different & had no interest in killing humans for sport. she grew bored & tired of the constant strife & battles, though it was in her blood to be vicious & brutal. cruelty is a part of demon nature, but she couldn’t care less about taking over humanity & ruling over them all. luckily for her, the majority of her bloodline was wiped out by demon hunters during one of the many apocalypses.

she left hell freely, finding a recently dead host as her prey, possessing the body & stopping the shell from decomposing. they’d said it was a suicide, though the girl was alone & afraid; she could taste the fear on her tongue. once taking control, she disappeared from the hospital morgue, & decided to journey on towards a better place.

lillith embraces exactly who she is; being from an infamous demon family & a legacy amongst the underworld. she’s a chaotic neutral ( EMPHASIS ON THE CHAOTIC ) & could care less about anything anyone ever says. she’s selfish that way, only listening & caring about what something can do for her. even though she’s a P.I. it’s not because she wants to help humanity; she gets a sick satisfaction from seeing humans in pain & destroying their lives. not only does she provide services to humanity, but she also works with the supernatural. for a cost, of course; can’t be making any deals with a demon without any unknown strings attached >:D

unlike most demons, she can freely pass between the underworld / hell, limbo, & earth. most other demons are lower ranked & therefore cannot fight exorcisms, nor do they have the power to do so. she cannot be exorcised thankfully, but lillith will always choose hosts with low visibility or zero consequences. having to fight or subdue a human soul? gross, she’ll take a hard pass on that.

more headcanons will come as i play her !! still fleshing her out & molding her to be amazing

potential relationships.

younglings in training- definitely would be another demon that she’d maybe sparred with or trained with. they would have spent countless years together & would most likely be one of the few people that would see a different side to lillith.

possible ?? friends- this one’s a doozy as lillith is like jessica jones & derek hale all rolled in one !! she’s uncaring & aloof & very very hard to get to know, but i’d definitely like to see someone who’d try !!

demon hunter or someone that absolutely hates her- let’s be real, this one would be MMMMM so good. eSPECIALLY IF THEY FALL IN LOVE because fuck yeah !! give me someone who hates demons so much that they want to absolutely DESTROY HER. & they’re constantly playing this game of cat & mouse which eventually leads them to start falling for one another maybe during some dramatique situation & BIG OOF GOOD STUFF

someone who wants to use her- maybe they’ve heard about her lineage ?? maybe they know something she doesn’t ?? who knows ?? let’s do this shit.

partners in crime- friends, partners, teammates idc !! what ifffffffffffffffff she teams up to stop some baddies or something & has to be a good person for once ?? idk !! but maybe they wanna work for her !! just give me two weirdly chaotic friends who work together & fuck around & actually make her smile or laugh !!

#grove.intros #FUCKIN FINALLY GOT THE RIGHT TAG

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fanteenboy · 4 years

Conversation

[Stiles mumbles in Latin]

Derek: Listen, for the last time, I'm not a demon and you can't exorcise me.

Stiles: It was worth a try.

#stiles stilinski #wrong quotes #teen wolf

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the-cookie-of-doom · 5 years

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Season of the Witch AU

I just recently watched this movie, and today I started thinking that it could be some kind of fun au?

Stiles would be the witch, obviously.

Mitch is the criminal that gets freed on the condition that he acts as a guide. I think a thief and a mercenary. “I don’t believe in magic,” Mitch tells Stiles, when Stiles asks if Mitch is afraid of him. Of all of them, he’s the only one not afraid to get closest to Stiles’ cage. He’s just a weak child, what can he do? (A lot, he could kill them all if he wanted to. Lucky for them he doesn’t.) Stiles only smiles and asks, “Who is Katrina?” Mitch is perturbed, but chalks it up to Stiles overhearing him, or talking in his sleep. It’s not solid proof of magic.

“Do you think they’ll give me a fair trial?” Stiles asks. Derek promised him one. “Nothing about these people is fair,” Mitch responds.

Derek and Peter are the ones sent to bring Stiles to justice. Former Templars who deserted when the gravity of what they were doing dawned on them. The best warriors in the army, no one dared try to stop them. Derek joined to repent for the loss of his family, which he blames himself for. Peter says he joined because the church promised to forgive all sins - and he has many - but really it was to make sure Derek didn’t foolishly get himself killed. He never cared for the religious side of things, but he does believe in magic. He’s seen things that can’t be explained. Stiles healed the phantom pain of his burns that have plagued him for ten years with only a touch.

Scott is the well-meaning squire that follows after them, hoping to get knighted upon their return. He is a kind boy that is much too friendly towards Stiles. If he’s not careful, he’ll end up the witch’s next victim, Derek warns. Scott is kind and talkative and befriends Stiles-from a distance. Tells him things that no witch should ever be told, because it gives him too much power.

As Mitch gets to know Stiles, he starts to second-guess sending him to his death. Because it doesn’t matter what Derek promised, Stiles will never see a fair trial for witchcraft. He will be hanged and drowned before this is over, or burned. (Even Peter flinches at that, it’s a fate he would wish on no one.) Guilt is not something Mitch has felt for a long time. It takes him a while to identify it now, Katrina would be disappointed him.

One night Mitch decides to follow his instincts and free Stiles. It’s nothing to take the key off Peter, Mitch is a very good pickpocket. But rather than going with him, Stiles shouts for the others, says that Mitch tried to hurt him, that Mitch was going to kill him. And Mitch doesn’t know what Stiles is doing, he’s trying to save the fool! But Stiles doesn’t want to be saved. A fight ensues and everyone is yelling and it's chaos, and Mitch gets killed in the midst of it. The last thing he sees is Stiles smirking, hands wrapped around the bars of his prison and watching them all hungrily. It took barely any effort from him at all.

They move on. It’s difficult without their guide, but they’ve made it through the worst of the journey. Everyone is tense, and not even Scott will talk to Stiles. He can still feel Mitch’s blood on his hands, was the one to kill him because he was afraid for Stiles. The first life he’s taken.

“You saved me,” Stiles soothes, reaching out to him. Scott shies away. “I don’t know what he would have done, but I could see the hate in his eyes. He blamed me for what happened to his lover. I didn’t even know her. There was no other way. You saved me, Scott.” Scott has to stop to be sick, rides ahead of the cart with Derek, leaving Peter to pull up the rear.

Peter is not nearly as trusting as Scott, or as callous as Mitch. He is more cautious around Stiles, doesn’t know the full extent of his capabilities but knows he is more than he appears. Stiles only drops the act around him, because Peter never bought it for a second.

“How did you get your burns?” Stiles asks.

“You tell me, little witch.”

“I think it was something heroic. You tried to save someone, didn’t you?” Stiles presses up against the bars, his eyes searching. “Was it a witch? Your lover or your sister? Or was it your daughter?”

“It was my family. Someone tried to burn them all for being monsters.”

Stiles tsks. “Poor Derek, he never did learn how to see past the mask to what’s hiding underneath. Not that you can blame him, a pretty face is enough o fool most men.”

Peter, ever the schemer, knows how to recognize a plot. He knows that Stiles is up to something, is almost certain he was lying about what happened with Mitch. But there was too much going on, everything so unclear, to realize it at the time. Now he is suspicious, doesn’t want to continue on until he finds out what Stiles’ angle is.

It’s nothing to begin Peter’s descent into madness. Ever since the fire he’s already been halfway there. All it takes is an illusion here and there to fully cement it. It’s delicious to watch Derek have to kill the last remaining member of his family.

“It was mercy,” Stiles consoles after Derek buries his uncle’s body. “He was no longer the man you remembered. The real Peter wouldn’t have wanted to continue on like that.”

“Shut up, witch, or I’ll kill you myself.” Stiles doesn’t believe the threat for a second. Derek is too noble, he wouldn’t kill a defenseless boy. Scott is afraid but unwilling to challenge either of them, still believes that Stiles can be saved. His soul, if not his body. It’s sickening how he believes that good will triumph over evil, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Just on this journey alone Stiles is leaving a trail of bodies. If the priests are to be believed, his death toll number in the hundreds of thousands, the source of the plague ravaging the country. If Derek won't kill him for all of them, he won’t kill Stiles for his uncle.

They make it to the abby. All of the monks are dead, have been for weeks. It’s clear that something more is going on here.

Scott and Derek find the book they came for, and attempt to perform the ritual that will end this curse, but it doesn’t work. It’s Scott who realizes that Stiles is no witch, he is something more. Something much worse.

Derek fights the demon while Scott performs the exorcism to the best of his ability. Enraged at the audacity, tosses Derek aside like a ragdoll and goes for him. He doesn’t care about this humans, all he wants is that book. He has spent centuries destroying all copies of the one thing that can hurt him, and this is the last one.

In the end, they scrape through by the skin of their teeth. The demonis exorcised and Stiles is left in it’s place, traumatized but alive. Derek and Scott are as well, barely. Stiles takes the book and they get far away from this place. Scott gives up any interest in knighthood, and Derek lays down his sword. Stiles just wants to find a home and peace, and that sounds like a great idea. They return the way they came, pay their respects to the dead. Guilt eats at Stiles, and there is nothing he can do to repent.

Scott returns home to his mother to train instead as a physician, Derek and Stiles find a cottage in the countryside with a garden and some sheep and a few goats and chickens. Stiles dedicates his life to making as many copies of the holy text as he can so that if the demon ever comes back, it can be defeated again. Every major church in Europe is given one.

#cookie writes #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #scott mccall #a good boi #peter hale #mitch rapp #starting out i wasnt sure what ship to make this #my heart said stitch but i think sterek is good #they both feel like they have to repent for the deaths they've caused #and they both know they cant #together they make their peace with that fact

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