Let There Be Light ( And It Was Good)
( Blind!Stiles for part of the story. Alpha/Omega verse. Mates. Wolves know. TW: death/harm to an animal. Not edited, but i’m sick of looking at it.)
Humans have considered themselves the top of the food chain for, well, pretty much as long as they’ve been able to kill other living things with pointy objects. And while that’s a great idea and all, it’s never been particularly accurate. Because while, yes, humans had the ability to create weapons—terrible, massively destructive weapons—humans were too weak to physically become weapons themselves.
Unlike the werewolves.
The werewolves, who held the key to human evolution in their claws, and who were the ones who made it possible for these weak, mortal creatures to even make pointy objects. Because without the werewolves, humanity would be left weak, helpless, and blind.
Or so they liked you to believe.
The best thing about being the son of the sheriff were the resources. That, and the fact that Stiles was lucky enough to have the kind of dad that—while he could be kind of strict, yes—actually understood him in a way that a lot of other people couldn’t or wouldn’t.
Just because every human parent had to go through the same thing, raising a blind child in a world of pointless rules and prohibitions, didn’t mean they were understanding or compassionate people. Even with every household modeled to accommodate the blind, they didn’t didn’t seem to understand. And thus, the kids grew up with each choice pre-made for them, every second of their future planned right up until they met their Mate. Because after that, you were under the wolf’s control, and all your big life choices got transferred right over to someone else bigger and ‘better’ than you. Unless you were lucky enough to be an rare Alpha human, then, at least, you were able to hold your ground as an equal. But your typical human wasn’t an Alpha, so the education system and the government made it their duty to prepare every child to be submissive to the 'Greater Race’.
Basically, you were taught to grovel.
Thankfully, he lived a very different life than your typical Unmated child. For one thing, he was one of the few blessed with a guide dog from an early age. A reject from the Police Dog academy for being 'too hyperactive’ and 'untrainable.’
But, okay, maybe naming him Floopy wasn’t such a good idea because people made that infuriating 'cute’ noise in the back of their throats when Stiles introduced him. He was five when they brought him home, the dog had floppy ears that Stiles used to play with for hours. Floopy was a highly logical name, thank you very much.
But that wasn’t all—no, he really did luck out with his dad, especially after his mom died. Because the sheriff understood that Stiles would never, ever settle in and let any of this 'Me Alpha, you pet human’ just happen to him. He fought the Unmated 'helpless’ image, he fought the hypocrisy, and he fought the Werewolf Propaganda every day, with every tool he could get his hands on.
“Stiles… not again.”