Evil Author Day – Sane Shane

Working Title: Sane Shane

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairings: Previous Rick/Lori, Shane/Lori, undecided future pairings

Rating: PG

Warnings: swearing?

 

“Were you fucking her before I got shot? Or is this a new development?”

The words were like a solid punch to his gut, knocking the breath from Shane’s lungs. He turned to stare at the man he considered his brother as the words rattled in the air between them. Rick’s face was blank and flat as the words he had uttered. Swallowing loudly, he thought about how to answer.

“It’s new,” he said slowly. “I think on her end she was just looking for something normal, or maybe tryin to fill some void left in her. I was just useful.”

Rick lost some of the blankness. “And you? What was it for you?”

“Originally? Stress relief,” Shane admitted. “It’s life and death out here and I’ll be honest, I just wanted to get off.”

“Originally? Something changed then.”

“I don’t know, man,” Shane said, folding in on himself and looking anywhere but at his best friend. “I’m not sure what changed. I love her, I love Carl. I thought she loved me.”

“But she doesn’t,” Rick replied ruthlessly.

“Hell, I’m not sure if she loves anyone other that Carl,” he snorted. “She’s a stone cold bitch.”

Rick laughed darkly. “She is. And it’s gotten worse.” He stopped walked and looked at Shane, eyes dark and serious. “I can’t do this without you, you know. I can’t keep us all alive without you. We’re stronger together, we always have been. We need to put all this shit behind us.”

“Can we? Is it possible?” Shane asked. He searched Rick’s expression for some sort of answer. “Is there a way back from this?”

“That depends on you,” Rick answered. “That depends on Lori too. And me. Carl and the baby are innocent, and the rest of the group don’t need to suffer from our fights. We got to stop dragging everyone into this. We need to get past this.”

“So what do we do?”

Rick was silent as they started moving again, always watchful for anything coming at them. “We both need to step back from her, and stop letting her make decisions.”

Shane snorted again. “She’s been pissing people off left and right.”

“She good at that,” Rick agreed. “We also need to convince Hershel to let us stay. This place can be safe and good for us. It’ll take some work to make things secure, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

“We need to convince him to get rid of the walkers in the barn first,” Shane remarked, turned to sight down his gun at a random sound. “That’s a danger we don’t need.”

“Yes, but you got to stop antagonizing him,” Rick told him. “We can’t get him to understand what they are if you keep getting his back up about it. We need to ease him into it.”

“With those things in the barn a stones toss from where we’re bedding down we might not have the time for that,” Shane pointed out. “it’s a big risk.”

Stiles Stilinski

Evil Author Day – Somewhere Safe

Working Title: Somewhere Safe

Fandom: Teen Wolf/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel

Pairings: Some canon BtVS pairings, possible Stiles/Peter, still undecided

Rating: G currently

 

The van rumbled, a low sound that brought Stiles’ head up in concern. They had found the aging van on the side of the highway, the owners long gone. It had taken precious time to get the old vehicle working again, but in their current situation having a way of moving quickly was critical. Now, the ancient van was making sounds that worried Stiles. The rumbling, groaning sound was not good. Not good at all.

“Stiles?”

Glancing at Isaac in the driver’s seat, Stiles nodded. A moment later the van pulled over to the side of the road, the rumble louder as it idled.

“What’s up, guys?” Scott asked over the walkie-talkies as he pulled up behind them in a battered SUV. Moments later another van, this one a newer model came to a stop just to the side of the SUV and Derek peered out at them.

“Sounds like engine issues,” Isaac reported as Stiles took a moment to breathe before extending the wards he had on the van. He gave a quick check to the wards on the SUV and second van, then pushed the sliding door open. “Stiles is checking on it now.”

As Stiles slide out, Allison followed behind him, climbing onto the roof to take up watch. Two figures piled out of the other vehicles, one taking up watch atop that SUV while the second hurried over to help with the old van. Stiles nodded at Chris as the man settled into a good position to keep an eye out for trouble, then he moved aside to let Derek assist. Fixing the van thankfully didn’t take long, but the minutes that passed were nerve-racking. As far as they could see (and the wolves could hear) this particular stretch of highway was clear, but they were all aware that that could change in a heartbeat.

“Done,” Stiles called out as he dropped the hood shut and hustled back inside. Chris waved a hand in acknowledgement as Derek headed back to his van. Allison slid off the roof of the van and inside seconds before Stiles shut the door. “Let’s go,” he said to Isaac. “I don’t want to get caught out in the open like this.”

The van roared the life, the rumbling silenced, and they were back off down the empty road.

**

“Did Chris say how much further?” Lydia asked, leaning to peer between the front seats.

“If the highway stays clear, not that much. A day max, hopefully.” Isaac answered absently, keeping most of his attention of the road. There might not have been any moving cars but there was still plenty of hazards to worry about. He shot a quick look at Stiles who was asleep, slumped over in the passenger seat. “I’m hoping this really is a safe place. So far we’ve been shit out of luck.”

“Dad trusts this guy,” Allison piped up from the far back. She smiled when Isaac met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Really trusts this guy. He says he’s one of the good guys all the way.”

“And this town? He say anything about it?” Lydia asked somewhat archly.

Isaac hid a wince at the tone, but he understood how the Banshee felt. Every so called safe place they’ve landed at had turned out to be anything but safe. The barely made it out of the last place alive, and definitely didn’t make it out without any injuries. Even werewolves could be overrun and taken out if the enemy had enough people, even if they lacked a Hunter’s specialized weapons.

“Not a whole lot,” Allison admitted, her voice quiet. “He’s been a bit closed mouth on that part.”

“I don’t like that,” replied Lydia. “We have no clue what we’re walking into. Hell, we don’t even know if that guy is there or not.”

“No, Dad did manage to get a call through when we went to get Jackson,” Allison told them. “His contact is still in the town.”

“But nothing else?” asked Isaac. He hoped there was more information. He agreed with Lydia that walking blind into the situation was a horrible idea. One that could get all of them dead. Walking into established towns and safe havens was sometimes the most dangerous thing to do. People were less tolerant of outsiders now than they were before the world took a nose dive.

“Sorry,” Allison said with a shrug.

“Do we at least have a name of the place?”

“Sunnydale, California.”

*

Stiles jolted awake as the van hit a dip in the road hard. He sat up with a groan, running a hand through his hair. “Where are we?”

“According to Chris, about three hours outside of town,” Lydia replied from the driver’s seat. “I sent Isaac to nap in the back with Allison.”

“I thought it was my turn to drive next?” he asked in confusion.

“It was, but you needed to sleep more than we needed you to drive,” she told him primly. “Besides, you are already doing so much to keep us safe that the rest of us decided to take over most of your shifts.”

“Lydia,” he ground out. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” she snapped, then sighed. “Seriously, Stiles, you are powering the wards around the cars. That is more important than driving or taking watch. And you’ve been exhausted lately.”

He slumped back against the seat and closed his eyes. She was right in some ways. Most of his energy was going towards the wards around the cars. the only reason he had managed to stay somewhat upright was that Peter was supplying a steady trickle of power to keep Stiles going. When they had decided it would be better to go out and collect their missing pack members instead of waiting around, Peter had pulled Stiles aside to discuss how to keep them all safe while crossing the country. After a bit of back and forth, Peter had brought out the idea of him supplementing Stiles’ power. the rest of the pack hadn’t liked the idea in the beginning, but now, months later, they all agreed that they would probably be long dead if Peter hadn’t helped.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Catch me up.”

“Well, we’ve made good time,” she replied. “As I said earlier, we’re a few hours outside of town. Derek and Scott shifted and are scouting ahead for any trouble.”

“Are they still being ignored?”

“Yes, and it’s still freaky,” she said with a shudder. “They can run right past and nothing.”

“It works for us,” he pointed out.

“It would work better if we could figure out how to get all the wolves to full shift,” she amended.

“Yeah, but they haven’t been able to yet. Peter said it’s only something that runs in certain bloodlines, but I call bullshit since Scott managed it.”

“Scott is a True Alpha, though.”

There was something about the tone of Lydia’s voice that made Stiles wince. Something about the whole *True Alpha* situation didn’t sit right with either of them. Granted, Scott did make a somewhat decent Alpha, but he definitely wasn’t something special. All the research Stiles had done on True Alpha’s pointed to more of a gap fill than some *Super Wolf*. Scott had become a better Alpha after they had managed to get him more in touch with his furry side, and he was a far better Alpha than Derek had been, but Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone who be a greater leader for them.

“I take everything Peter says with a fucking salt mine,” Stiles snorted. “I know we can’t trust him.”

Lydia was silent for several minutes. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but I think we *can* trust him.” She lifted a hand off the steering wheel at his shock. “Peter puts himself before everyone else, we know this. He also has a metric tonne of knowledge in that head of his and he’s dangerous as hell, but even he knows he wouldn’t make it on his own out there. Sticking with us is his best chance, so he’ll toe the line.”

“Until something better comes up,” pointed out Stiles. Lydia nodded her head in agreement. Stiles looked back at the too still form lying in the back. “How is he anyway?”

“Still breathing,” Lydia responded with a careless shrug. “As far as we can tell he’s only asleep. Derek said it looks lighter than when he was in a coma, but deeper than regular sleep.”

“I think I might have pulled too much last time,” Stiles admitted. He could remember the feeling of power, energy flooding out of Peter and into him, which he then channeled into powerful spells set around the cars. He had nearly fallen to his knees as he set the wards. Peter <i>had</i> collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut. They had tried to put him in the far van with the others, but the further away from Stles he got, the weaker both of them became. After several long arguments, it was decided to was smarter to keep them together, and since stiles needed to stay in the lead vechile, that’s were Peter was put.

“Go back to sleep, Stiles,” Lydia commanded. “I’ll wake you when we’re closer to town.”

He considered fighting, but it wasn’t worth it. The effort of keeping the wards up weighed on him, even with the study supply of energy from Peter. Closing his eyes, he curled up and let himself drift off into a light sleep.

*

“What the fuck is that?”

The three cars pulled to a stop to stare at the maze of cars and rubble that covered as far as the eye could see. There was a path large enough to fit their vehicles through, but barely. It would be slow going, something that none of them liked the idea of, but it was the only way into town that they knew of to get in.

“Let’s go,” Scott said firmly, heading back to the SUV. “It’s not safe out here.”

Nods answered him and they all piled back into the cars. Isaac slid back into the driver’s seat and Allison took the shotgun position, a high power rifle in her hands. Stiles knew if he looked back he would see Chris in a similar position to his daughter and Stiles’ father was in the furthest car with another rifle, all three ready and waiting for any trouble. Stiles had moved into position in the middle of the back of the van, power crackling under his skin. He would do what he had to to protect his pack.

They made their way slowly through the piles of cars, broken concrete, and what looked like chunks of buildings. Worry about possible ambushes pushed at all of them and all the wolves had their hearing pressed to the max in hopes of being alerted to danger before it happened.

“We’re being watched,” Isaac said, breaking the heavy silence. “We have been since we entered this mess.”

“How many?” Allison asked, eyes scanning for the watchers.

“I don’t know,” Isaac admitted. “I can feel them. Can’t you?”

“I can,” Lydia spoke up from the backseat. “And there’s something strange, something I can almost touch.”

“Power,” Peter said, startling them all.

“Peter?” Stiles questioned softly, turning to look down at the older wolf.

Peter was still lying on the thin mattress pad they had found, his eyes dull and his face grey with exhaustion, but somehow he still managed to find a way to smirk at Stiles. “There’s power, intelligent power, overlaying everything. Can’t you feel it?”

Not that he wanted to admit it, but Stiles could feel it. The power seemed to probe at them, taken stock of who they were. It didn’t seem malicious, only watchful. He wondered if it was anything like the spells he had on the cars. Obviously it was stronger than anything he had cast, but it did have an oddly familiar flavour to it. Scowling, he nodded at Peter.

“Help me up?” the prone man asked, lifting an arm in supplication.

Wrinkling his nose is annoyance, Stiles grasped Peter’s hand and yanked, pulling the wolf into an upright position.

“Thank you,” Peter murmured, pushing to his knees with a little more help from Stiles. “I ache all over.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said, feeling red steal over his face. “I think that was my fault.”

Shrewd eyes assessed him for a moment. “Did it keep us safe? Are we all still alive and well?”

Stiles blinked. “Yes.”

“Then there is nothing to be sorry for,” Peter told him. “I knew the risks when I made the offer. Hell, I knew them more than you did. Letting you siphon power off me was the only way to keep us safe.”

Sighing, Stiles slumped a little. “Still sorry.”

Peter laughed. “You can make it up to me at a later date,” he leered.

“Creeper Wolf,” Stiles muttered, but he didn’t move as Peter leaned against him, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “Do you know anything about a town called Sunnydale? It’s where Chris has us headed.”

Tension filled the frame slumped against him and Stiles looked down to meet bright blue eyes. The grey of exhaustion had been replaced by white shock. Peter opened to his mouth, then shut it after a second. “We’re going to Sunnydale?” he finally managed to say.

“Yeah, we’re almost there,” Stiles answered, shifting a little to let Peter rest heavier against him. “He supposedly knows someone there, he checked in when we were picking up Jackson.”

“Hand me the radio,” Peter commanded, reaching out one hand.

Lydia stared at him searchingly for a moment before she dropped the walkie talkie in his hand. “This better be good, we’re in the middle of some junkyard maze.”

“It is,” Peter murmured before toggling the radio. “Everyone pull over, I need to speak with Chris.”

Protest crackled over the line. “We’re not stopping,” Scott stated. “We’re almost there.”

“Pull over now.” The words were growled out slowly and in the shadows of the back of the van,Peter’s eyes glowed brightly. “It wasn’t a request.”

“You’re not the Alpha, Peter,” Scott scolded.

Stiles hid a smirk as Lydia laughed out right at the expression of disgust on Peter’s face. He plucked the radio out of the wolf’s hand. “I think this might be a bit important.”

The sigh that echoed down the line was loud and deep. “Fine.”

Moments later all three vehicles were stopped in the little space that path through the maze left. Stiles helped Peter as they climbed out of the van, keeping a hand on the wolf to keep him steady. When he looked up, a scowling Chris Argent was barreling down on them as Allison, Derek, and Kira took up watch.

“What do you want?” Chris snarled as he stopped in front of them.

“Who do you know in Sunnydale?”

“An aquaintence that I met a few years back,” the hunter answered.

“Does he have anything to do with *her*?” Peter asked intently.

“Yes,” Chris replied slowly. “You know?”

“I read a lot and I re-established a lot of my old contacts after my coma,” remarked Peter as he glanced around them with a worried expression. “Why haven’t you told them everything?” He paused. “Are you leading us into a trap?”

Chris reared back in shock, his eyes wide. “No!” He ran a hand over his face before continuing. “Yes, Wes is one of them. Or he was. He was fired and decded to roam around the country being a Hunter.”

“You’re bringing us to a Hunter?” Scott interrupted, red flooding his eyes. “Is this a trap?”

“Look, Wes tried to be a Hunter, but he wasn’t really cut out for the job,” Chris said with a sigh. “He ended up in LA working with a PI there before the world went to hell. He’s a good guy.”

Lydia stepped between them, glaring both into silence. “Maybe Chris should tell us about this Wes and Sunnydale.” She glared harder. “Everything you know. Peter too.”

Uncorked – April 2018 RT Challenge

Content Rating: R

Warning(s):  Abuse-Child, Character Bashing, Death-Major Character, Discussion-Child Abuse, Discussion-Rape, Drug Use, Dubious Consent

Genre(s): Challenge Response, Drama, Established Relationship, Fix It, Future Fic, Het, Hurt/Comfort, Slash

Relationship(s): Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley/Other Character(TBD)

Word Count: 1385/31,385

Author’s Note: Additional warnings: Off-screen, non-consensual potioning; off-screen child abuse; past Major character death; sorry for all the genres

Summary: Ginny Potter-Black wakes up with a clarity of thought and realizes that much of the last 13 years of her life has been a lie.

 

Post Archive

Harry Potter-Black
Daniel Radcliffe

Ginny Potter-Black
Bonnie Wright

Ginevra Potter-Black nee Weasley woke up clear-headed.  This shouldn’t have been a surprise considering she was a morning person, but as she lay there revelling in the clarity, she realized it had been years since her thoughts were unclouded.  Searching back in her memory, Ginny dimly remembered that the last time she had clarity of thought was the Yule before her first year, when she was 10 years old.  Her mind had been foggy for over 13 years and she hadn’t noticed.

A rush of anger surged in her heart, but she pushed it away, instead focussing on tracing the facts.  The first fact being, of course, that someone had been distorting her memory and thinking for over a decade.  The second fact being that only a few people in her life where capable of doing so, and even less had been in position to accomplish it.

The only fact she couldn’t figure out was how.  Hexes were a possibility.  Ginny spent hours with her team, in crowds in Diagon Alley, with her family.  There were so many places she could have been hexed.  A cursed artifact was another way, but Ginny didn’t wear much in the way of jewelry and nothing she had worn as a child had made it to adulthood.  That left the most likely way: potions.  Of course, that meant the suspect list was both smaller and larger.

She bit back the scream that built in her chest.

The bed moved shifted slightly, startling Ginny out of her thoughts.  Turning her head, she met vibrant green eyes that watched her intently.

“You know,” she whispered into silence.

“Yes.”

“How long?”  Only a fierce grip on her temper kept her voice level.

“About a week,” Harry answered, moving to sit up.

Ginny pushed herself upward and shifted back to lean against the headboard.  A week.  Her husband had known she was living under a potion for a week.  She glared at him.

“How did you find out?”

Harry raked his hands through his hair, making already sleep messed strands stand further on end.  “Turns out there’s some non-human blood in the Potter line.”

Ginny rolled her eyes.  “Everyone knows that,” she scoffed.  “Most pureblood families have a Magical Creature somewhere in their lineage.”

“Yes, but most of those families don’t have to worry about have a power surge that activates said Creature blood,” he replied drily.

“Activates?” She paused, pulling her thoughts together.  “What type of creature?  Please tell me not a vampire.  Bloodborn Vampires are the worst to deal with.”

“And if I was?” he asked, green eyes flashing.

“I really don’t know,” she admitted.  “Everything is up in the air right now.”  She shook her head. “Just tell me.”

Harry took a deep breath.  “Dragon.”

She had to have heard the wrong.  There was no way Harry had Dragon blood.  Dragon Kin had gone extinct centuries ago, many hunted down, the rest suiciding rather than living under wizard rule.

Yet, the possibility was there.  There were so many ways Harry was like a Dragon.  He was possessive and fiercely protective of those he considered family.  His temper was slow to rise but burned hot and long once he was roused.

“Ginny?”

She glanced over and smiled softly.  “How did you figure it out?  All of it.”

“Well, for the creature blood, it was at work.  I can’t actually say what I was doing, but let’s just say I had a bit of a magic surge and bam woke up the Dragon,” he said, miming and explosion.  “I ended up in a time bubble under Gringotts to learn to handle it.  The blood burned out all potions in my system.  The Goblin healer told me that most Wizarding potions won’t work on me now.  My Dragon side will overwhelm and burn them out every time.”

“What about if you get hurt?” she cried out, a spike of fear lancing through her.  “How will they treat you?”

He smiled at her.  “Surprisingly, Goblin made potions will work.”  He made a face. “They taste worse than the normal ones.”

“I didn’t think that was possible,” she laughed.

“Neither did I,” Harry admitted.  He sobered.  “When I woke up after the remains of the potions were gone, I noticed a vast difference in how I felt, how I acted.  Ironhand had taken samples of everything my system got rid of and tested them.  I had dozens of potions in my body.  Compulsion, love, lust, memory.  The Healer was surprised I was managing to function at all.”

“Am me?  How did you find out I was potioned too?”

“I watched,” he said quietly.  “I noticed you acting like I remembered I had.  The way you’d stop as if you were about to do something but you couldn’t, something else was stopping you.  When you cut yourself in the kitchen the other night I took a sample and had them test it.”

“The same potions?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Not all of them, but many of the same.  Compulsion, love, lust, more memories potions than I had,” he told her.  “And accordin to the Ironhand, you had been under their influence longer than I was.”

“Since I was 10,” she whispered.

Harry nodded.  “I planned to ask you if you wanted to go to a retreat with me.  One of the packages has a Cleanse on it.  If figured we go and come back potion-free.”

“After that?” Ginny wondered. “What if I had been in on it all the long?”

“Considering the number of potions you were under, I figured it was safe to assume you weren’t part of it but another victim too,” he told her, reaching out to pick up one of the hand closest to him.  His hand was warm, wrapped around hers, a steadying influence.  “Seems like I was right.”

She laughed a soft broken sound. “I’m scared, Harry.  So scared.  We don’t know who did this, or why.  We don’t even know how or when!”  She blinked back tears.  “You might be immune to those potions now, but I’m not.  I can end up back in that foggy world at any time and I wouldn’t even know it!”

Harry let go of her hand, and for a second all Ginny could feel was cold.  Then warm hands were pulling her against his body, tugging so she was sitting in his lap.  He said nothing as he held her, rocking slightly, and to Ginny’s horror, she began crying.  Burying her face against Harry’s neck, she sobbed out the terror, grief, and betrayal that infested her heart.

“Better now?” The question was asked softly, barely a whisper against her hair.

“Not really,” she whispered back.

“Oh?  The crying didn’t help?”

Ginny thought about it.  The tears had helped purge some of the emotions welling up in her, but there was still a mass of anger and grief seething in her soul.  “Some, but not enough.”

“Talk to me, Gin.”  Harry pushed her back enough to look into her eyes.  “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m stuck on the who,” she admitted, dropping her hand back to his shoulder.  “Given when I was first dosed, there isn’t a lot of choice.”

“Arthur or Molly,” Harry said, speaking the names that blocked her throat.

“Yes,” she said with a sigh.

“Truthfully I can’t image Arthur potioning someone,” Harry added.  “Potions don’t seem like his type of thing.”

“But they are Mom’s.”  Groaning, Ginny pushed herself up to a seated postion.  Not many know it, but Mom was working towards a Mastery in Potions when she got pregnant with Bill.  Several different Potion Masters have offered to help her finish, even now, but she keeps turning them down.”

“Why?” Harry looked confused. “There is so much the world can offer if you have a Mastery, especially in something like Potions.”

“I asked once.  She told me that she didn’t need the pomp of it, she had her family and she was happy to be where she was.”  A thought crossed her mind.  “Have you checked any of the others for potions?”

“Not yet?  Should I?”

“Check for hexes, curses, and potions for all the family,” she said intently.  “I’m starting to think there’s something more going on here.”

How Harry Potter Became an UnSpeakable – TBA

 

Her End

Title: Her End
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters: Laura Hale, Peter Hale
Rating: G/PG
Summary: Laura makes a choice at her end.

 

She was dying. She could feel it as her life slowly away, her blood pooling on the ground beneath her. Truthfully, she was surprised she was still alive at all. The hunter’s sword has sliced easily through her, severing her lower body. It was only a matter of minutes into be leaving her brother and uncle alone in the world.

A howl in the distance brought her attention away from her dying body back to the real world. The mournful sound familiar, as known to her as her own howl. She watched as the undergrowth parted and a dark figure appeared, eyes glowing electric blue dark.

“Peter,” she whispered, her voice barely a crack of sound.

“Laura,” Peter murmured as he moved closer dropping to his knees beside her. “I see you finally come back to Beacon Hills.”

“Yes,” Laura replied, reaching out one hand to touch him.

“Are you here, Laura?”

She sighed, her breath heavy in her chest. “I’m here for you, Peter. I’ve been back several times, but you are safer here under an assumed name than with me and Derek.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing with what was left of her strength. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

The large, warm hand drifted over her hair, soothing her. “Where is Derek, Laura?”

“Still in New York if he’s smart,” she laughed breathlessly. “But this is Der we’re talking about.”

“So, he’ll be here soon then,” Peter remarked. “What do you want me to do, Laura? You don’t have that much longer.”

“Do it,” she managed to whisper the last of her strength draining away. “If I just die there is no guarantee where the power will go. I want the Hale power to stay with the Hale family. Do it.”

Bright blue eyes closed briefly as Peter seemed to wrestle with the decision. He opened his eyes and nodded, shifting into beta form.” I love you, Laura.”

She smiled. “I love you too, Uncle Peter.”

Sharp teeth closed around her throat, but she felt nothing, all sensation in her body had already faded away. Instead there was nothing but relief, Peter would do what he needed to do. The Hale family would survive.

Unnamed Creature!Stiles

I meant to post this for Evil Author  Day, but this Evil Author forgot.  Here it is now.

Title: None Yet
Fandom: Teen WolfPairing: Stiles/Peter
Rating: Eventual NC17, G this post

There were many things that could be said about one Peter L. Hale, and most of them weren’t positive. He was manipulative and had been since he was a child. He was often cruel and could be vicious when defending his Pack, something Talia had used to the Pack’s benefit many times. His thoughts often fell on the darker side of the spectrum and he was always ready to see the worst in anyone he came across. These traits made him perfect to be his sister’s Left Hand, the Pack Enforcer and it was a role he had loved. After the fire, after the pain of feeling bond after bond break, after the agony of wounds that refused to heal, after the coma where the images of his family burning played over and over again, after that the things that could be said about Peter became worse, darker. He was a murderer, violence made casual. His cruelty cut deeper. And, to top it all off, he was far from sane and balanced.

The one thing that could not be said about Peter was that he was unobservant.

 

It started with a feather.  Larger than his hand, so black that it shone shifting blues, purples, and greens in light.  It was soft and light in Peter’s hand and left his fingers tingling with residual energy.  This was no ordinary feather.

The oddity of it called for research, and normally Peter would tap Stiles and Lydia into any project, but something about the feather made Peter keep it secret.  He hid the feather in his apartment, in a specially spelled box that he kept hidden in his bedroom.

It took two weeks for him to find anything that sounded remotely similar to the feather. He had found the book buried in the ruins of the old house, the pages scorched in places, the cover a blackened mess.  Waiting until the Pack was off at school, he pulled the book out and reread what he had found. The passage spoke of the creature-part man part avian with great black wings.  Supposedly it was a creature of pure magic that hid from the world.  Hiding Peter could understand.  Anything that was pure magic was at risk of being used to for that power.  The book stated that the creature was dangerous and a bit of trickster, often tricking and trapping unsuspecting victims.  Nothing was said about what happened to said victims and personally, Peter thought they were probably hunters to begin with.  Oddly, there was no name for the creature and only a vague description of pale skin, large eyes, and huge wings.
He pushed the book away.  This was a curious situation.  The creature obviously was real, was currently in Beacon Hills, and had been near the Pack quite recently.  The protective part of Peter, the left over of being the Enforcer, howled for him to hunt down the interloper and tear out its throat.  The slightly more reasonable part of him sat back and thought.  He would watch for now.  Perhaps the creature would show itself.

 

 

 

“You’ve been stranger than normal,” remarked Lydia Martin as she dropped into the seat beside Peter.

He quirked an eyebrow.  “Really?  You pay that much attention to me?”

“You’re a murdering psychopath that once bit me and caused my latent Banshee genetics to activate, of course I pay attention to you,” she replied.  “Besides, I have a bet with Stiles on how long it will take you to crack and attempt to kill one of us.”

Peter blinked and then burst into laughter.  He wasn’t really surprised that Stiles and Lydia were keeping an eye on his activities.  Of all the pack, only the two of them seemed to see reality clearly, the rest all blinded to the harshness of the world around them.  Even Derek, with all that had happened to him, was still naive.

“So, what’s going on?”  Lydia studied him for a moment.  “I don’t think you plan on going on another murderous rampage, so what are you acting so squirrelly about?”

“Squirrelly?”

She waved a hand.  “I may have spent a bit too much time with Stiles this weekend.  Answer my question.”

Peter eyed her for a moment then reached down to pull the scorched book from the bag at his feet. He pushed toward her and sat back as she carefully opened it to the marked page.  There was silence as she quickly skimmed the page and when she finally looked up her eyes were dark.

“I take it you’ve seen this creature then?” she questioned, gesturing to the book.

“A feather,” he admitted.  “But the actually creature, no.”

She hummed softly.  “Where it you find it?”

“In the Preserve near the training area.”  He watched her as a look of anger briefly touched her features.

“Do you think it’s a danger to us?  To the Pack?” she asked.

“Past experiences want me to say yes,” he started.

“But?”

“Instinct says no.”

“Show me.”

“I don’t carry it around with me,” he told her dryly.

She gave him a disdainful look.  “I figured that.  I’ll come by tonight.”

“You and me, alone in my apartment,” he whispered, leering slightly.

“And my new taser,” she said with a smirk.  “Don’t forget the taser.”

Sitting back with a laugh, Peter nodded at her.  “Tonight then.”

 

 

Her hands were reverent as she handled the feather, stroking through her fingers.  Peter watched slightly bemused.  The feather had been in her hands for over twenty minutes and she didn’t seem to be ready to set it down.

“It feels alive,” she finally whispered, looking up at him with wide hazel eyes.

He nodded.  “I noticed.”
She carefully placed the feather on the coffee table.  “It also feels familiar, like I should know it.”

That was something new to Peter, but, he didn’t have much contact with magic on a regular basis to compare it to.  Then again, there was something familiar about the tingle that he got.  He picked it up, smiling at the feeling.

“Don’t think, just answer what pops into your head,” he commanded after a few minutes of contemplation.  “What does it feel like?”

“Lightning,” she answered promptly.

“Good or bad?”

“Good, like lightning and rain and deep, dark forests.”

“Same deal,” she said to him, taking the feather and stroking it across his arm.  “What does it feel like?”

“Pack.”

“Okay, so who in the pack is lightning, rain, and dark forests?” she asked.

The answer seem to hit them at the same time.

Stiles.”

~~*~~

Across town a slender body shivered in a non-existent breeze and wrapped itself tighter in ebony wings.

 

Advent 2016 – Day 3

The fire was a small pitiful thing that cast weak shadows against the walls. Huddled in their coat, they shuffled a bit closer to the bare warmth. The wind was howling outside the small shelter, the sound worse than the hounds that had been hunting them. The weight of the snow on the roof creaked and cracked, each noise elliciting a flinch. They would be so glad when the winter had passed.

A thud near the door had them on their feet, weapon in hand. It had to be the Hunter with her hounds. They had been found; they hadn’t run far enough. The door slammed open, banging against the wall and letting in a small storm of snowing. A white covered figure hurried inside, fighting to close the door against the strength of the wind. Dropping their weapon, they rushed over to help. This was not the Hunter. They weren’t sure who it was, but at least they were safe from the Hunter’s wrath.

 

Master List

Advent 2016 – Day 2

Delin stomped his feet, wincing when only numbness greeted him. While he normally enjoyed winter, this year was proving to be beyond even his liking. The cold had come early, settling faster than it had in recorded history, and heavy, wet snow had follow soon behind, covering the area. And then more snow had come, and more, and more, until the whole county was weighed down under white. It was hard to enjoy the winter when everyone was so concerned about keeping alive. All the surrounding farms had experience a drop in their livestock; the animals dying quickly in the extremely low temperatures. The greehouses that the McKindles kept had cracked, cold seeping in to destroy the hardy winter-friendly crops they were growing. Belts were being tightened everywhere, and worry about lasting until spring was on everyone’s mind.

By generally agreement, the Winter Fair was to still happen, but it was to be held in the Town Hall instead of the Square. Most of the typical Winter Fair games had been dropped; snowball fights were too dangerous to even consider. The cooking challenges were changed to be more of a cooking gathering, with everyone who could banding together to make sure the whole county was fed. In truth, it was not really a Fair anymore. It had morphed into a chance to reconnect and to help each other out.

Hardship had always brought them together, and this horrid winter was only banding them tighter.

 

Master List

Advent 2016 – Day 1

The room was cold, frost beginning to curl along the window glass. Breath billowed out in clouds of steam as they vainly tried to puff-warm their frozen hands. It had been years since they had been this cold, since it had sunk deep into bone and settled there.. It was something they could do without. Cold wasn’t their friend. Not an enemy, but far from friendly. Still, it was better in here than in the outside world where there was no shelter, no cover, nothing but the freezing blanket of white snow. Cold was bad, but snow, snow was worse.

NaNoWriMo 2016 – Dark Necessities

Title: Dark Necessities
Author: Asharia
Fandom/Genre: Teen Wolf in Highlander
Relationship(s): Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale
Content Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Extreme violence, possible gore, off-screen non-con, off-screen torture, coarse language, all the sex
Summary: Assassin Peter Hale is offered a lucrative contract to take out a harmless seeming bookstore owner. Unfortunately, his kill won’t stay dead.

Mieczysław “Stiles” Stilinski has lived for hundreds of years and experience numerous life events, so someone trying to kill him isn’t new. Still, most assassins head the other way after realizing that they failed at their task, but this assassin was of a whole different caliber.

Banner by Chestnut Nola

Banner by Chestnut Nola

This will be posted when I finished the edit/rewrite.

Title is from Red Hot Chili Peppers song.

This will be a bit on the darker side. Neither of the boys are very nice, even if Stiles does pretend to be.

Peter Hale - Assassin

Peter Hale – Assassin

Stiles Stilinski

Stiles Stilinski – Immortal

MMOM 2016: Day 1

Title: Watching
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairings/Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinksi, unknown MC
Rating: R-ish
Warnings: Voyeurism, non-con (being watched without knowing)
Summary: Peeping Peter
A/N: Stiles is of age and I may  have accidently bunnied myself and their will be more with plot.

 

There was Mountain Ash lining the window, blocking any supernatural entrance to the room, but Peter didn’t care about that.  He wasn’t actually trying to get into the room.  No, it was much more rewarding to be on the other side of glass and ward, to watch with shining blue eyes.

The inhabitant of the room was oblivious to his watcher.  Lithe figure spread out over the bed.  Pale, mole-dotted skin gleaming in the faint light.  Peter bit back the growl that rose.  Stiles was delicious.  So fragile and breakable, yet so strong and fierce, defiant to the end.  Yet here he wasn’t.  Here he was perfection and long fingered hands traced random patterns over pale flesh.

Peter pressed a hand against the front of his pants, rocking his hardened cock into his palm.  In the dimly lit bedroom, Stiles had moved from random patterns to more purposeful touches; hands lingered on neck, nipple, the crease of thigh.  Biting his lip, Peter rocked harder against his hand, wishing he dared unbutton, dared to wrap his hand around his cock and stroke.  But that was a bit too risky.  No, just this would be enough for now.

A soft whimper sounded and all of Peter’s attention went back to Stiles, who had progressed further, hand encircling hard flesh.  Stiles’ movements were unhurried, his hand slow and steady.  Swallowing past a dry throat, Peter let his hips follow the rhythm Stiles had set, imaging those slim fingers wrapped around him.

It wasn’t long before slow became fast.  Hips and hands moving quickly as pleasure crested.  The choked cry from Stiles was Peter’s undoing, and he came with a hissed curse.  Dragging his hand away from the sensitized flesh beneath wet fabric, Peter back away from the window and the captivating sight on the other side.  He didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t risk getting caught.

And besides, Stiles was a teenager.  There would definitely be nights like this again.

~~~~

Glowing red eyes watched as Peter slipped away from the Stilinski house to fade into the shadows.  A low growl built, trickling past clenched teeth.  Anger and jealousy flared in the Alpha.  That was his Mate and no one was going to come between them.