“Your highness,” Harris says as he rises. “Your highness, don’t you dare-”
It’s too late to stop him though. Derek is already standing.
“Just for a bit,” he says, batting away Harris’ hands when they reach for him. “I’ll stay within earshot.”
“How many times do I have to tell you,” Harris says, standing in the carriage as well and making a weak attempt at blocking the door. “It is not appropriate for a prince to go riding around the countryside on a horse by himself!”
“But I can ride on royal hunts?” Derek challenges, not bothering to look up from where he’s shucking his fine coat. Underneath he is wearing well-made but plain riding clothes. They are the only set of reasonable clothes he’d managed to sneak in his luggage this entire month-long trip.
“Royal hunts are different,” Harris moans, flicking his hand at Derek’s shirt in disgust. It may be a bit worn after a solid month of hard use. But it’s not Derek’s fault that Harris had threatened to throw them out enough times that Derek only let him clean it when Derek had the time to watch. “There are guards and you’re dressed properly and… guards! You need guards!”
“We have guards,” Derek points out, taking a moment to wrap a strip of cloth that he keeps for just this reason around his sword hilt. He is smart enough to know that riding through the forest with a jeweled hilt is asking for trouble. “Though they will just slow me down. They can stay here with you.”
“Your Highness,” Harris says. “Please, you know there have been reports of thieves in this area!”
“We’re only half a day’s ride from my uncle’s,” Derek scoffs. “And Peter hasn’t officially reported any thief problem to my mother so I’m sure that’s just a rumor.”
I found it. I remembered I once wanted to share it but it wasn’t finished so I never did. I realized I forgot the idea, if there had been any to begin with, so I’m sharing this half-unfinished thingy. yay (ΦωΦ)’’’/
Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone! 2016 hasn’t been the best in many, many ways, including my writing. It’s been an extremely stressful year between school, college apps, and more, uh, global issues, and as a result I’ve spent less time on tumblr, less time talking to you guys, and definitely less time writing. Regardless, I managed to get 73,980 words written, which, while not nearly as many as last time, is still pretty good for this Hell Year. So here’s a huge thank you to everyone who’s continued to support me and read my writing. I love and appreciate you and your kind words so, so much, and here’s a roundup of the fics I managed to get out this year:
A Different Kind of Alpha Derek regains his footing and stands over the man, who can’t be more than twenty. He has brown hair and what might be moles, but it’s hard to tell past the layer of blood and grime he’s covered in. At the very least, Derek’s sure they’ve never met before.
The man looks up at him with wide eyes, his entire body trembling.
“I’m Derek Hale,” Derek begins again, letting his eyes bleed red to make his point. “Alpha of the-”
The man cuts him off once more, this time by passing out. From the looks of him, it’s a wonder it didn’t happen sooner.
In which Stiles is kidnapped by the alpha pack and manages to escape after two months of torture, only to end up on the territory of yet another alpha. Luckily for him, it turns out to be one Derek Hale, who definitely got more than he bargained for when he went to investigate a strange noise.
In a society where the werewolves have been enslaved by the humans, Derek has had enough owners to know who the real monsters are. He’s also had enough to know not to trust a word out of Stiles’ mouth, no matter how nice an act he puts on.The only thing that’s kept Derek going for all these years is guilt. Now, though, he has a mission that might just allow him to set some of this right.
If only he can get away from Stiles.
In which Derek’s been abused all his life, Stiles just wants to show him he’s not like his past owners, and they’ve both got a plan. The only question is, whose is more flawed?
Pack Human Things and Star Wars Slings In a fit of desperation, though it’s more likely to result in Stiles’ hand being bitten off than anything else, he flings out an arm to shove the hulking hellhound away. Well, at least he tries to. What actually happens is that his forearm barely makes it six inches off the ground before weakly flopping back down, sending pain shooting up his arm.
Fuck, what did this thing do to his shoulder?
Stiles cries out incoherently, trying to get someone’s attention. No one else shows up, though, and a moment later the creature looms even closer, and looks him right in the eyes. Oh, good. At least this whole thing is satisfying for someone. Right as Stiles is about to tear his gaze away and try to come to terms with his own mortality in a matter of seconds, the monster’s eyes flash blue. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever been so relieved in his life.
“Not a monster,” he slurs, mostly to himself. “J’st Derek. Thank fuck.”
‘Stiles dislocates his shoulder in battle and Derek has to reset it’ au
Perhaps the worst part of this whole situation, worse than the torture and the pain and the desperation, is that Stiles is here to watch it all.
Well, not Stiles. Not really.
Derek realized long ago that the man before him is only a hallucination, a horrible trick conjured up by his lonely, strained, pitiful mind. He supposes some small part of himself finds the idea of Stiles being here comforting. For the rest of him? It’s torture. Well, torture on torture. It’s almost too much, the way Not-Stiles looks at him with those big, brown eyes, like he’s sad and angry and hopeless all at once.
Derek knows the feeling.
In which Derek is kidnapped, and after a head injury, begins to hallucinate Stiles. It doesn’t take long for the hallucinations to go from a nuisance to Derek’s safe space, nor does it take long after Derek’s rescue for him to spill a secret to the real Stiles.
“Yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re right, Stiles. Maybe it’d just be better if I was never born at all.”
“Hmm,” Stiles says. “Huh.” He starts talking to the ceiling again, and Derek’s seriously beginning to wonder if this guy escaped from Eichen. “You think that would work? Hmm. Yeah, I getcha. Alright.” He looks back at Derek. “You’ve got your wish.”
“You’ve never been born.“
“You’re crazy,” Derek huffs. “Absolutely out of your mind.”
“The jury’s still out on that one,” Stiles says, shrugging. “But I suggest you take a quick look in the mirror.”
Derek’s reluctant to look away from a potential hunter, but what he sees when he glances over is enough to make him full-on turn his back to the man. He staggers forward and grabs at the sink, using it to hold himself up.
His eyes are glowing gold.
Not red. Not even blue.
It’s a Wonderful Life AU in which Derek wishes he were never born, Stiles is angel who sets out to show him just how terrible that would be, and things turn out far better than anyone could’ve expected.
While the trickster spark provides guidance to his Alpha, his mate, he also attempts to nourish his insatiable appetite while protecting their pack from those unfortunate enough to cross their path harboring ill intentions. The Nogissary will stop at nothing to ensure the safety of his pack, his family.