won’t you tell me your name, #1
In a world where soulmates can write messages on their skin, Peter and Chris mostly use their connection to take their anger out on each other. Stiles is the somewhat traumatized kid on the other end of their bond.
For Stetopher Week’s cross-generational issues prompt, with the issue in question being what exactly you’re supposed to do when your soulmates have hated each other since before you were born. Title from The Doors’ Hello, I Love You, because at first I wanted to title this Hello, I Hate You but I decided that was a bit much.
[Stiles/Chris/Peter, pre-slash, starts pre-canon with some time skips later, soulmate AU.]
There’s only one picture of Stiles on the day he was born. Stiles keeps it in his bottom drawer of his wardrobe, hidden under a bunch of stuff he throws in there when he’s supposed to clean his room. Afterwards, he takes all the stuff out again and hopes his parents don’t make him clean until the next weekend, but the picture always stays inside. It’s a scene that’s reflected in half of the picture frames downstairs, his parents on either side of him, beaming at the camera. In this one, Stiles looks like he’s about to cry, but that’s what babies do, so Stiles isn’t really embarrassed about it. It’s the rest of him that bothers him, the way that there’s only glimpses of his pale skin under a chaotic mess of years of dialog between two other people. The words creep around his face, his little hands, and there’s even black smudges on his ears when the magic that tied him to his soulmates ran out of room to fit the words.