Stiles grew up in the life of knowing that there was always more to life than what others saw with a first glance. Even as a child he saw things that no one else seemed to and always had a fascination with the unusual.
Some considered him an unusual child, but Claudia welcomed every single quirk her son displayed. His mother had a few special talents of her own and thrilled her to see it in her son as well. She’d raised Stiles to always keep his mind open and as grew and started to display his powers, she began to teach him how to use them. She even taught Stiles about werewolves at a young age, his infatuation with them growing once he had learned the truth about her closest friend.
Stiles spent nearly every possible moment that he could roaming the Hale house, following after the middle child most of the time. Derek was three years older than Stiles, but the bond they developed with each other was something their mothers considered out of a story book. Like Derek, Stiles was sensitive to his emotions, but unlike Derek, Stiles didn’t need a scent to figure it out. He could feel it.
Sterek AU: When Stiles was eight years old his family and most of the village was massacred during a werewolf attack. Stiles survived only because he and his best friend Scott were out in the forest. It was not allowed, it was dangerous for kids to be out in the open alone, Stiles always considered it highly ironic, in the end, it was the only reason why he stayed alive. But there was some truth it too, he learned that the very next day when red eyed demon found them and took Scott away from him just when he thought he couldn’t loose anything more. His best friend pushed Stiles into the river before the huge wolf could get to him, but Scott himself paid for it with his life. In less than two days Stiles was left completely alone in the world.
He was found half dead and cold as a corpse on the bank of a river by a girl with big brown eyes, bright smile and wild hair. Stiles remembered her hands touching his face, they seemed so hot against his skin it felt like fire. She brought help for him and stayed with him the whole time fever and pain filled his mind and body. Her name was Allison, and she became his sister.
The name of the clan that took Stiles was Argents, and they were very different from people that used to live in Stiles’ village. These people weren’t afraid of anything. And they taught Stiles how to be just as fearless and fierce as they were. Other people called them Hunters, and they were what made monsters piss themselves in terror.
As years passed Stiles learned and trained with passion only Allison’ could match, but she did it from desire to made her family proud. Stiles was led by hate, by his wish to rid the world of monsters like those who took his first family away from him. Like those who dragged Lydia from her life and made her a slave. Now Lydia was part of their clan, their family, and she loved them as fiercely as Stiles did.
His life was good, now. His life had a meaning.
It all changed far too quickly. And Stiles had no idea it’s for him to discover there is more to monsters than he thought, and that not every monster has to be covered in fur. That maybe he is the monster. (And everybody knows monsters does not deserved to be loved.)
He, Allison and Lydia were out, scouting. The attack came from unexpected direction and more swiftly than any of them could predict. In the cacophony of shouting and howling it was easy to miss the sound of a werewolf sneaking from behind, and Allison’s warning shout came too late. Stiles went down in pain, with wolf’s blood on his hands and sound of his name in his ears.
He was surprised to wake up. He truly was. But it was nothing compared to how horrified he was to wake up surrounded by wolves. Werewolves, actually, prowling around and clearly guarding him.
“Stiles.” The sound of his name was unexpected and it made him flinch. Few feet from him there was a boy, watching him with uneasy expression on his face. His eyes glowed sickly yellow and Stiles went rigid. Just another monster.
“Stiles? It’s you, isn’t it?” the boy asked and, to Stiles absolute shock, smiled. He tilted his head slightly on one side while doing it, making his uneven jaw even more obvious. A memory of that smile, that jaw, pushed through the mist in Stiles’ confused brain. Scott. But the eyes, the eyes were wrong, those weren’t Scott’s eyes.
“You are not him. He’s dead. He’s been dead for years. You won’t fool me, dog,” Stiles spat, furry roiling in his gut, his mind already searching for some kind of way to defend himself. It didn’t seemed to connect in the monster’s mind, though, because he tried to approach Stiles. Long years of training took over with ease and Stiles attacked.
He woke up again - and it was still as surprising as the last time - but this time with his hands and legs bound together and his left ankle chained to a tree. Several yards from him there were two werewolves with dark furs, obviously guarding him, lying in the dirt, one of them staring at him with unnaturally blue eyes. And suddenly Stiles knew, they had no intention of killing him, at least not yet. They were planning to make him a slave, like Lydia used to be. Nothing could be more humiliating for a hunter than this, as they had to realise.
Well, they were in for a surprise, because Stiles would not be as easily broken as they probably think.
Sterek AU: What if werewolves, when they fully transform, could only see everything in the colour of their eyes? What if Derek after turning into a wolf would see everything in shades of blue?
He never really truly believed in his mother’s words, about his blue eyes being beautiful, or the rest of him for that matter. And now he has to see everything in that one colour he despises, but has to tolerate, because some things he can’t change about himself no matter how much he desires.
As always, things in Beacon Hills don’t stop happening just because of his inner turmoil over something as irrelevant to the world as the colour of his vision. So he just grits his teeth and goes with it, because, really, what other option he has?
It’s just typical for him to end up running around and saving everyone’s irresponsible asses, when the shit hits the fan. Some asses more often then the others. And he doesn’t even notice at the beginning, because it’s Stiles, you know, there is nothing that special about him being in some kind of trouble. But it means they spent a lot of time together, and Stiles seems to have certain fondness for Derek’s furry form he does not have for the two legged Derek. Or maybe he’s just not afraid to show it, which is just stupid, because it is still Derek. But it’s fine, Derek doesn’t mind, he trusts Stiles and it’s nice to see that the boy trusts him just as much.
The weird thing is, Stiles in blue is something Derek doesn’t mind. And he minds everything else in blue a whole lot. But Stiles… he seems different in that colour. Somehow more real, sharper, almost fragile, but at the same time strong and stable. The shades of blue always changing as the light reflects on Stiles’ skin differently every day. Derek is not even sure, when did he start counting and mentally cataloguing all the different shades of blue just Stiles’ eyes can shine with. It’s all very confusing, if he lets himself think about it. So he doesn’t. He ignores it.
But when he doesn’t? When he let his guard down enough for those treacherous thought to resurface again? It those moments he finds out, blue may not be a bad colour at all.