Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Vampires, written into history as monsters. Apparently vampires are supposed to be ethereal beautiful beings with pale skin, red eyes, tall, sharp fangs and claws, living in some fancy big house with a shit tun of money with no reflection and some poor lass dangling in their grasp after fainting due to blood loss and so maybe that’s why Stiles had been confused at the tender age of five when his mother had told him
“Kochanie, baby, your favourite tomato juice isn’t tomato juice, it’s blood hunny, rabbits blood...we’re vampires.”
You see, at that age Stiles had already fallen into the trap of mythology, having only been told folk tales and fairy tales as bed time stories led the kid to love mythology, he would go to the library and read as many books as he could on the subject, he would stay up late and watch Merlin in Sundays from a streaming website and he would spend any money he got on books about mythology, he had learnt Vampires were bad, they killed people, he knew they were bad. Stiles had come to the conclusion that his mother had lied to him because he loved garlic bread, to the point where he would wake up late at night, run downstairs and gorge himself on the garlic bread in the bread bin, to the point he would throw up after eating around a loaf and a half then eat more and the fact that he wasn’t a bad person, he wasn’t tall, nor was he handsome and he had brown eyes, not red. Even after watching his mother explain how to drink blood from a rabbit and the best way to drain blood and keep it chilled he still didn’t believe her not even when she flashed his teeth at him. At the age of six he decided to do some research, research being going to the local bar during the day and watching vampire films and tv shows. Also at the age of six his mum and dad had taken him to the beach and he lost some of his teeth because some fucktard elbowed him in the face, he ended up crying most of the time but his mother had said his new teeth would grow through sharper than before, sharp enough to easily pierce human flesh. At the age of seven he met uncle Deucalion, he had then learnt that Deucalion was named after the man in the Greek myth, he got so excited because being named after a person in a myth was the coolest thing in his eyes. Then uncle Deaucalion kept on coming over and he was told about his mother’s frontotemporal dementia, he spent a lot of time with uncle Deucalion actually, finding out over time that not only was he a werewolf but also apparently in love with a man called Peter although apparently Peter didn’t know. Claudia died quickly but it wasn’t pleasant, when Duke wasn’t there he had to take care of his mother even when she shoved him down the stairs, stabbed him, screamed at him, hit him, called him a monster, threw up over him, whispered how she didn’t love him and almost shoot him because she thought he was trying to kill her which he wasn’t..he was just trying to get her to drink. His dad got drunk, he was fine with it at first and tried to stop him except then his dad stopped helping him catch animals, then his blood ran out, his dad tried feeding him food which kept him okay at first but he didn’t really need it, then it started to poison him and he almost died, mixed with panic attacks Stiles wasn’t doing well at all. Then his dad whacked him over the head a bit too hard, he started shouting, then he punched him and uncle Deucalion got worried about the bruises because vampires didn’t get bruises or cuts, they healed almost as fast as a werewolf unless they hadn’t been eating but Stiles said he was okay and for awhile Duke believed him until Stiles collapsed and effectively died again, vampires could die but would always wake up, Stiles didn’t. Deucalion saved him by kidnapping some lady and draining her, pumping the blood into Stiles, Duke also made his dad go to rehab. At the age of nine Deucalion moved in with him and kept him functioning, at the age of eleven his dad moved back in and now five years later things were doing better.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh as he sat down at the table, his father had driven him home from the preserve which meant Scott was still out there...defenseless. Deucalion placed down a glass of blood down infront of him, a grin on his face.
“Heya kiddo what’s wrong?”
“I saw dad stare at Melissa like she was the light of his life...he used to look at Mama like that.” Stiles looked up at his uncle, the man had a guilty look on his face.
“Shit, kiddo, don’t worry, you know your dad loves your mum.” The werewolf pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, Stiles whined a little.
He looked up at Duke, he felt that sometimes Duke more of a father than his own dad, it was probably because Duke was a werewolf and therefore understood Stiles’s situation better than his father who was human.
“Hey Mischief, I did get you a little present, I know you’re getting older and therefore while having your glass a day is fairing you well, you also deserve a little extra, you’re a growing boy after all.” Duke handed him a small box, it was a black velvet and it smelt oddly of stale books. He opened the box, eyes widening at the sight of a beautiful glass vile, filled with blood, on a silver chain.
“And it’s O negative.”
“Oh my god Duke thank you so much!” He grinned widely, looking up at his uncle, fangs glittering in the light. Deucalion had a habit of buying Stiles jewellery and precious stones, after Duke had taken him in, Stiles ended up getting into Paganism, that had led to Duke getting him a set of moonstone runes and a beautiful tarot card set, which made Stiles delighted but after the three pearl helix earrings and the alexandrite necklace he was starting to believe perhaps his uncle had too much money than he knew what to do with but he was still grateful, he knew the man meant well. He put on the new necklace, smiling happily to himself.
“Oh and I ran into Deaton again, this time at the bookstore, he was wearing a white shirt and he looked so handsome.” Duke rambled off about Deaton, he used to be in love with Peter Hale and he still was but since the Hale fire, Duke could only bring himself to visit Peter a handful of times because it hurt to much to see his friend and one true love in a comatose state. Stiles took the rambling as his cue to leave, running up the stairs and slamming straight into his room. Stiles flopped down onto his bed, tears pricking his eyes as he let out a shaky sigh, the memory of his mother still a fresh scab in his mind, his dad used to ramble like that about Claudia. It made his heart hurt. Earlier that evening Stiles had heard over his dad’s police radio, which he stole but that wasn’t what mattered, half of a woman’s body had been found and so he had decided to take Scott into the woods to go look for the body, after finding nothing they decided to split up but then his dad had caught him, after a quick lecture and a promise of some cartons of fresh blood, he was sent home with his tail between his legs.

Being a vampire was odd to say the least, there are certain rules one has to follow to be a vampire. Each family/vampire could get the rule book from their local bookshop, the book was called “Vamping 101” to anyone who wasn’t a vampire it would just look like a story about a teenager who was turned into a vampire but if you smeared some of your blood over the spine of the book the words would change to show you everything a vampire needs to know but the book could then only be opened by said vampire and only vampires could read it, no other species even when a vampire had unlocked it and shoved it into another species’s face. The main rules were simple:
Get in contact with local hunters and inform them of your presence.
At least 7 liters of blood a week, preferably 1 pint a day.
Coconut water can be used as a substitute at least twice a week.
Coconut water should be used instead of water.
Make sure to bring fanging toys with you around time of haze.
Blood drunk vampires will be arrested and taken to local hunters.
Please refrain from killing animals unless a resident of area, if passing through contact local hunters to get animal blood
Make sure to apply VPS (vampire sunscreen)
Never flash fangs or eyes at humans
NEVER REVEAL RACE TO HUMANS
Bring Wolfsbane and mountain ash wherever you go.
Inform hunters of your haze
If you have suspicions of illegal hunting repot of VGA (Vamp. Goverment Agency)
Some of these rules were outdated but most were still important the blood and coconut water ones were still was basic knowledge every vampire needed to know also VPS was an essential thing every vampire needed to have, it was normal sunscreen mixed with some mountain ash and aloe Vera, many hunters had it and would sell it to the local vampire community. Now that he thought about it, he would need to pop into Mrs. Maybell’s to grab some more plants, preferably some English Roses and some peach roses, can’t ever go wrong with them and he would also need to go into Mrs. Raywing’s so grab some more obsidian balls and maybe some of his favourite lavender oils, he likes to bathe in them and also some new candles, he was running out on those.

Stiles had fallen asleep relatively quickly, while vampires didn’t actually need to sleep they did need to regenerate, which mostly consisted of falling into a deep trance like state that was hard to get out of. He eventually got up, mind clogged up, he felt fuzzy and didn’t like it. As he sat down at the bar stool, Duke grinned at him, holding an old jar, a silver one at that.
“Isn’t it your haze soon? You should bring your fanging toy with you so you don’t bite into the desks, like you did last time.” He could hear the smugness in his uncle’s voice.
“Oh shut it, I told you that story in confidence.” Stiles recorded, his voice sharp but held no real cruelty.
“Oh yes, not as embarrassing as the time at Hale's lunch party though!” Duke laughed heavily, a rumble deep in his chest, these days Stiles couldn’t tell if his uncle was more human than wolf.
“What time at the Hale’s lunch party?” John came downstairs, rubbing his eyes, barely dressed, his tie hanging around his neck and his shirt inside out.
“Oh well you see, our dear Stiles had me rip out his teeth infront of his crush, screamed bloody murder then realised there was no real pain at all!” His dad only grumbled in response, patting Stiles’s head, gently playing with his hair. Well, technically that is what had happened but the truth was he didn’t have a crush and Deucalion had to rip his fangs out because he had gotten them stuck in a teething toy, but that was a story for another time. He grabbed his flask and quickly ran out the house, favouring to not be asked any embarrassing questions. He unlocked his jeep and slipped into the old thing, roll of duct tape sitting comfortably on the front seat.

Stiles got out of the jeep, slamming the door shut then wincing at the sound of the old metal creaking. He slipped a small rubber band into his mouth, luckily for him it was thick enough for him to chew on and it was his favourite colour, viridian! Scott ran up next to him,
“Okay let’s see this thing.” He rocked back on his heels, Scott had texted him last night about a bite he had gotten and with Stiles’s keen nose, he should be able to tell what bit him. Scott lifted up his shirt and the stench of werewolf hit him like a wave.
“Ooo wow Scotty.” Stiles reached out to touch it, the scent of werewolf now calmed down and he could smell that lovely salty smell of human blood.
“Yea- ow!” Scott flinched, causing him to pull his hand away.
“It was too dark to see much but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf” Scott said as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“A wolf bit you?”
“Uh-huh”
“No, not a chance.”
“I heard a wolf howling!”
“No you didn’t.” Stiles huffed, that was impossible because there are no wolves in California and no werewolves in Beacon Hills since the Hale family fire, except his uncle but Deucalion was at home, cooking black pudding, which meant Duke wouldn’t have had enough time to bite Scott them run back, wash Scott’s scent off of him and start cooking.
“What do you mean “no I didn’t” how do you know what I heard?”
“Because California doesn’t have wolves okay? Not in like, sixty years!” Stiles spun infront of Scott, looking him straight in the eyes, a swirl of silver flashing in his pupils, why? Because humans would listen to his words like law even with a little flash of the eyes but werewolves took more persuading.
“Really?” Scott have him that lost puppy look, Scott definitely wasn’t human anymore because any other human wouldn’t have questioned him but Scott was freshly bit so perhaps that had something to do with it.
“Yes really! There are no wolves in California.” He stated, exacerbated.
“All right well if you don’t believe me about the wolf, you’re definitely not gonna believe me about what I have to say next.” The lost puppy look was gone, now he had that cheeky grin, the same grin he used to use to get John to give him more brownies than he deserved.
“I found the body.”
“Are you kidding me?” Stiles rocked foreword, excitement laced in his tone.
“No, I wish! I’m gonna have nightmares for a month!”
“Oh Gods, this is freaking awesome.” Stiles wheezed, supper excited.
“I mean this has gotta be the best thing that has happened to this town since..since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey Lydia you look..like you’re going to ignore me.” Stiles had begrudgingly stated to Scott he had a crush on Lydia because saying “oh yeah she smells like death and I want to know why.” Was creepy, at least a crush he could play off as normal human behaviour but that pitiful look Scott gave him made him want to throw up, he hadn’t been interested in anyone, ever.

The day passed without trouble, the only big thing was Scott chittering away about the new girl, Allison Argent. The Agrent family, a group of hunters from Europe who travelled to America, they follow the code most of the time. There is a little tale that every Vampire child is taught, usually as a caution but also to scare the children:
“One, a Dhampir, two, a Hunter.
Walking briskly, rage filled creature.
Man stands still, arrow in grasp.
Heart kept chained in cage of bone.
Blood drips in language of old.
One, a Dhampir, two, a Hunter.
Moon shines bright, eyes shine brighter.
Silver clash with silver, red clash with red.
Fox runs quick, wolf howls.
Blood drunk human, quickly falls.”
The old saying was supposed to also explain how hunters would follow the rules, is a blood drunk vampire was running around a Hunter could kill it. If a Hunter was getting trigger happy and not following the code then a vampire could get rid of the Hunter, which is why the old lullaby was still told today, it was the law the vampires and hunters had. It was a little unethical to tell you children they will be killed if they get blood drunk but who was Stiles to judge?

“Stiles listen man, I lost my inhaler while in the preserve, can you help me find it?” Scott’s voice rang in his ear, blinking out of his daydream he looked over to his friend. He had just changed out of his sports clothes, he never did anything during Lacrosse and it was bothering him, he was a vampire and therefor built for speed, less for full on tackling someone.
“Sure Scotty, I need to stop off at the florists and the new age shop, just gotta pick up my orders as a couple of plants.” Stiles grinned and stood up, today they had lacrosse practice and what Scott had done was amazing, but the sun was still there in the sky and so today was a good day to pick up everything.
“Oh err, yeah sure, I just wanna get there before it gets dark is all.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it Scotty, we’ll get there before dark, I promise.” Stiles grabbed his back and slung it over his shoulder, his bones creaked in a way they always do, he had noticed it awhile ago, maybe two years ago, when he had stood up one day and his bones has creaked, he had freaked out at first but eventually got used to it, now it was just funny.

Both boys climbed into Stiles’s car, settling nicely into the worn but soft seats.
“Hey Scotty, if it was a wolf that bit you, do you think it’ll still be out there?” Stiles tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove out of the car park, heading towards the Main Street.
“Well, probably but if it’s light outside nothing will happen, well nothing should happen.” Scott hummer and looked out the window.
“Why do you need to go to the new age shop anyway dude?” He turned to his friend, his eyebrow raised.
“Well you know how I kinda believe that gemstones have certain meanings? Well I need to get some obsidian for grounding shit ya know...while I’m at it I’ll get some black tourmaline because nothing like having a little protection while going out into a forest that has the possibility of having a pack of wolves in it.”
“You’re annoyed at me for inviting you, aren’t you.” Scott snorted.
“What? No, no I could never.” Stiles looked over at Scott’s judging face.
“Okay maybe I am it that’s not the point.” The boy mumbled, pulling up outside of the flourist.
“Look Scotty, I’m gonna be like, twenty minutes max, you sit here and be a good puppy, I’ll roll down the window and put on your favourite tunes yeah? Yeah.” Stiles slid out of the jeep, waving at his grumbling friends.

The bells jingled as he walked into the shop, the smell of flowers was overbearing, his eyes watered and the door swung shut behind him.
“Mischief, let me take a guess, lavender, foxglove, Rosemary and some English roses for your garden.”
“Mrs. Maybell, how do you always know?” Stiles sighed, leaning over the counter, grinning at the lady, she was old, probably in her late fifties with bouncy brown hair and hazel eyes, she was his mother’s friend and was effectively his aunt.
“Please Mischief, you sent me a list about two days ago...and please, call me Roisin.” “Okay auntie Roisin~” Stiles grinned, lips spread wide to show off his sharp fangs, the lady laughed in response, her short height made her look less threatening but she was a fae, therefore dangerous, and with the light shimmer of her wings behind her back meant she was unsettled.
“Auntie Roisin, are you alright?” Stiles asked slowly, rubbing the iron chain in his pocket because even if Roisin was family, the fae were off folk.
“Don’t worry Mischief, it isn’t you that is getting my wings in a ruffle, it’s the Ley lines, their strum has chained, someone killed the girl in the woods Stiles but it wasn’t human, something that could make the Ley line change their tune.” Roisin turned to look at stiles, a crate in her arms.
“I thought as much, my friend was bitten by a werewolf but I don’t know much about them and if I ask uncle Deucalion then he’ll get too untreated then babble off about Peter then cry...about Peter.” Stiles sighed, taking the crate from Roisin.
“Don’t worry Mischief, ask Mrs. Raywing got a book on Lycanthropy, she loves you Mischief. Now, go run and find the person that makes the Ley lines strum.” Roisin smiled at him, spun him by his shoulders and gave him a gentle shove.
“Ah okay, bye bye Auntie Roisin.” He stumbled out the door, briskly walking over to the truck, snorting at the sight of Scott who was pouting like a petulant child. Stiles dropped his stuff in the boot before running towards Mrs. Raywing’s shop.

Stiles gently opened the door, the cozy smell of incense made his mind feel a little hazy. The crackle of a flame fluttered in his ear, the dull hum of music made him shiver.
“Mr. Stilinski what can I do for you?” Behind the Counter stood a pale woman, she was in her forties with golden brown hair and a pair of gray-blue-green eyes, a kind face with sharp eyes.
“Mrs. Raywing, how are you?” Stiles hummed, gently rocking back and forth.
“Oh Stiles, I’m so lonely here! I wanna go back home and see my beautiful husband but alas! He is in Germany on business and so I am stuck watching the shop, trying not to judge the people who come in with no idea what’s going on, especially the anti-vaxxers who believe that essential oil will heal all wounds and ailments.” She sighed dramatically, picking up a crystal skull to emphasise her point.
“Well, good news is, I’m here for an obsidian crystal ball and a black tourmaline pendant, and a crystal ball as well.”
“Anything else? Not a new altar cloth? No new books? What about some incense cubes?”
“Now that you mention it, you got any books on Lycanthropy?” Stiles walked over the the row of bookshelves, searching for what he needed.
“Why? You suddenly remembered your fiancé?”
“I was nine!” He squeaked.
“But you still went up the Derek Hale himself and said “I will marry you in the future!” Then he let you follow him around, he also let you ride on his back when he shifted.” She laughed, walking over to the bookshelves in search of the topic he needed.
“Ugh, I haven’t seen him in years and besides, you can see how much I’ve changed in the years, he wouldn’t even recognise me!” Stiles grumbled, running a hand through his hair, luckily his dad refused to let him cut it so it was long enough to run his fingers through and get in his eyes when it flopped down.
“Well, you do like to dye the mallen streaks brown.” Mrs. Raywing chuckled, taking out a few books from the shelf before moving to the next bookcase.
“Well yeah, otherwise I’d look even weirder and probably get bullied because of it.” His mother had two Mallen streaks that framed her face, Stiles had the same streaks but decided two years ago to dye them brown.
“How about, here me out, we get matching tattoos?” The lady grinned manically at him.
“I would say yes but uncle Duke and my dad would cry if I came home with more tattoos so probably not.” Stiles huffed, they still didn’t know about his current ones and any more would be risky, he could only get away with not going swimming at the beach for so long.
“How many of you have now?”
“Erm...eight? Yeah right.” Stiles hummed, picking up a book called Werewolves and Rituals.
“What are they?” Mrs. Raywing placed a substantial amount of books on the counter before going over to pick up the rest of what Stiles wanted.
“Well I’ve got the big Anubis down my upper back, the sun with Apollo on the nape of my neck, the two foxes on the inside of each ankle, the Anubis dog and Dionysus leopard on both of my hips, the bat on my upper arm and the “One, a Dhampir, two, a Hunter. Moon shines bright, eyes shine brighter. Silver clash with silver, red clash with red. Fox runs quick, wolf howls. Blood drunk human, quickly falls” written in Polish around my bicep.”
“If you could get anymore, what would you get?” She packs the crystals into a bag, placing them on the stack of books, taking the other book from Stiles’s hand and ringing it up.
“Mmm I’d probably get a ghost with “fuck you I’m dead” written around it or maybe a boy with a skull and a hood saying “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Or maybe another fox or a black dog on me again. I’d also get Belobog and Chernobog on my calf, gotta respect that Polish mythology.”He held out his card and winced at the dent in his pocket.
“Well Slavic mythology actually, not just Polish, I know foxes are your preferred shift, they are for the Gajos family, I’ve also seen you try a wolf once when you wanted to run with Derek but what’s the link with the black dog?” She grabbed a few bottles of different oils, placing them in another paper bag and handing them over with a wink.
“Well yeah, a fox is my preferred shift rather than a bat or a wolf, I’ve tried the wolf but the animal doesn’t link to anything, not like it did back then so I don’t find the wolf shift as important anymore. The black dog helps me clear my mind for some reason but the Anubis dog on my hip is my perfected summon, same for the dog I suppose...and because of the link to dogs and the dead so there’s that.”
“And the fact that Derek Hale shifts into a black wolf.” She snorts.
“Sometimes I wonder why I try with you...but yes, I’m thinking about getting a black wolf on the inside of my wrist.” He said, exasperated.
“What colour eyes?” She stared at his back as he walked out.
“I’m thinking about blue and red.” Mrs. Raywing pretended to think but Stiles knew she was giggling in her mind like crazy, the witch was probably the second closest thing to a mother he had.
“I’d also get Rozanica, Sudencia, Vida, Zhiva, Triglav, Svarog, Świętowit, Ognebog, Svarozhich, Dazhbog, Jutrobog, Flins, Ipabog, Koliada, Kresnik, Morskoy, Nemiza, Peklabog, Porevit, Posvist, Rugievit, Gerovit and Zorya Polunochnaya.” Stiles grinned.
“Stiles I swear to the Norns, you cannot get pretty much half of the Slavic Parthenon tattooed onto you, you little minx.” Mrs. Raywing groaned.
Stiles just threw her a smirk over his shoulder and waved goodbye. Vampires were blessed with many abilities, some finding themselves excelling in the animal parts, the other the elemental parts. Stiles excelled in the animal part of the vampire powers, every vampire could shift into a bat, it was just a thing. But like his family that was known for their fluid fox shift that took no toll on their bodies, some vampires could also take a second and third shift like his family. The animals that vampires could shift into which usually were foxes, owls, rats, bats and wolves. Stiles had managed to shift almost effortlessly into a wolf when he used to spend most of not all of his summer holidays with the Hales but ever since they left he had lost touch with the wolf shift, sticking with his fox shift since neither a fox nor wolf lived without their skulk or pack, he had to choose between the animal he would shift and so to honour his ancestors, he chose a fox. He had also managed the whole “look into my eyes'' mind control thing, it wasn’t as powerful as older vampires but he could easily control humans, the supernaturals were harder, especially if they knew how to deal with it, then he found it very difficult. Some days, Stiles would find himself looking up at the full moon, letting out a terrifically sad howl, hoping one day a Hale would return it but they were long gone, lost to the flames of their home. Deucalion was family but not pack, they weren’t that close in the sense of wolves and Stiles only conquered the shift because of the amount of time he spent with the Hales, perhaps it was because of the amount of full shift wolves, something his uncle couldn’t seem to manage so instead his uncle stayed as family and not as pack.

Stiles slid back into the jeep, turning to Scott
“Off to the Preserve right?”
“Yeah”
They walked through the woods, the scent of wolf was thick in the air but whatever it was smelt more wolf than werewolf. Stiles listened for the usual chitter of the woods but the only thing he could hear was the distant sound of wind whistling through the trees like lost souls. He looked around, opening his mouth and breathing is deeply, he couldn’t smell nor taste anything unusual which made him shiver, only a few seconds ago he was sure he smelt a trace of werewolf but now there was nothing, just wolf, which was unusual but it could mean there was a feral werewolf out there and if it bit Scott and killed that girl? Then there was nothing stopping it from forming a full pack, then killing everyone in town, human or not.
“I-I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing. I-I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things.” Scott said worriedly, nervous energy radiating from him, it made Stiles uncomfortable.
“Smell things? Like what?”
“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.” Stiles looked at him weirdly, he thought he had finished off all his gum.
“I don't even have any mint mojito-“ he shoved his hand into his breast pocket before pulling out a singular bit of mint mojito gum, a weird flavour but definitely his favourite. Scott made a face, as if to say “I told you so.” And Stiles just raised an eyebrow, looking back at his friend.
“So, all this started with the bite?”
“What if it's like an infection? Like, my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?” Stiles smirked, he had an idea, he gently flicked each one of his fingers before coughing.
“You know what? I actually think I've heard of this, it's a specific kind of infection.” Stiles bit his lip to keep himself from grinning.
“Are you serious?” Scott swivelled his head to face him.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called...lycanthropy.”
“What's that? Is that bad?” Scott panicked, eyes innocently wide.
“Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month.” Stiles tapped his chin, pretending to be in deep thought.
“Once a month?” Oh Scotty boy, so innocent, so sweet...so dumb!
“Mm-hmm. On the night of the full moon. Awhooooo!” Stiles mimicked the sound of a wolf’s howl, after spending enough time with the Hales as a kid, he had gotten his howl to sound as realistic as he could, even with the human vocal chords. Scott shoved him away, causing Stiles to giggle.
“Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling!”
“Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me!” Scott said seriously, face flushed lightly with embarrassment.
“I know! You're a Werewolf! Rawrrr!” Scott was not impressed with his joke, favouring to just storm ahead, Stiles’s demeanour changed and he became serious.
“Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon.” Stiles looked at Scott, eyes flashing silver briefly as the scent of werewolf increased tenfold, something had been here. Scott stopped walking and looked at the ground in confusion
“No, I-I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler…” he crouched down, looking down at the floor.
“Maybe the killer moved the body?” Stiles was certain, a feral werewolf had been here.
“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, eighty bucks.” Stiles looked around, gently kicking leaves away with his foot to see if he could spot the inhaler, he faintly registered the sound of paws on the ground.
“What are you doing here?” Stiles slapped Scott’s back and stood up straight, looking at the scowling face of the man, his voice was hard and rough, his brain wirred in order to figure out why Stiles recognised him.
“Huh? This is private property.” Anger radiated off the man, causing Stiles to flinch, he coughed.
“Uh, sorry, man, we didn't know.”
“Yeah, we were just looking for something, but…” the man glared at Scott, he obviously lost his nerve, causing him to shudder.
“...Uh, forget it.” Scott looked at the ground, The man threw him his inhaler, looking at him one last time before walking off, paying Stiles no attention.
“Um... All right, come on, I gotta get to work.” Scott started to walk off but Stiles stopped him, the wind had blown towards them and Stiles knew exactly who that scent belonged to, Derek Hale.
“Dude, that was Derek Hale!” Scott stared blankly at him causing him to roll his eyes.
“You remember, right? He's only like a few years older than us.” Stiles said blatantly, Scott frowned.
“Remember what?”
“His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, six years ago.” Scott was both intrigued and concerned by this statement.
“I wonder what he's doing back…” Stiles scoffed, nothing good would come from Derek being here.
“Come on.” Stiles jerked his head back the way they came, Scott following behind like a lost puppy.

Once he got home, Stiles put his new plants in his bedroom, he would plant his new rose bush in the morning. He dumped the books next to his bed and flopped into bed, the smell of Derek Hale made his head hazy, he hated it, he didn’t like the hazy ness, he wanted everything to be clear, he struggled to fall asleep. The moon made him feel hazy and the fact that the full moon was coming up made him groan, he would have to collect moon water and recharge his crystals, he might even moon bathe but with Scott going haywire, Derek back in town and the current looming doom of this feral wolf, he wasn’t sure he’d get a fucking break anytime soon. Eventually he did fall asleep, this worrying was making him feel stressed.

“Hey kiddo, you alright?” The sound of his dad’s voice woke him up, Stiles groaned and snuggled into the pillow.
“Cmon Stiles, you gotta go to school...you okay?” His dad shook him, Stiles’s response was another groan but louder.
“Mmmm, your haze is around this time isn’t it? Do you want me to call school?”
“No no I’m fine!” Stiles shot up before wincing, slamming his eyes shut and falling straight back onto his pillow.
“Your eyes sensitive? I’ll leave your sunglasses and some chewing gum on the counter downstairs, I think Deucalion made some ice cream with the left over blood from the rabbit we caught, eat some of that then how about making a smoothie? You should be able to keep the sensitively away...your mum used to make black pudding and eat it like toast.” Jon’s voice lowered to a whisper, making Stiles let out a small whine.
“Don’t worry kiddo I’m okay, you get to school alright.” Jon places a gentle kiss to Stile’s temple before walking out the bedroom, closing the door gently. Stiles sat up, pulling the duvet around him, the smell of blood sausages made him sigh contently, humans hated them but Gods, Stiles would drop his trousers and bend over to get some of that delicious blood sausage. He threw on some clothes, sporting an old pair of jeans and one of his dad’s hoodies, he grabbed a necklace hanging off of the door frame, it was simple in style, an amethyst stone with the tree of life made out of silver wire, different stones on each branch, also hanging on the rencklace was an iron ring with the Celtic trinity knot around it, a luck knot pendant on top of the ring and a black ring with a golden Viking dragon design around it, he didn’t know why but he always wore it, it made him feel safe and he felt lost without it. He slipped on a bigger version of the black ring on his index finger, brushed his teeth and headed downstairs, not bothering with his hair at this point, the curls just say there, happy as Larry.
“Oooo yum, blood sausages, black pudding and a coconut water tea! How exciting!” Stiles said sarcastically, plopping down on his seat and started shivering food into his mouth.
“Stiles, your dad said that your haze has started today, I put two pots of gum in your bag, your sunglasses and some sun cream. Bring blood in your flask, pack another one as well, bring human blood with you though because we don’t want you getting dehydrated then jumping one of your classmates. I’ll pack some Blodplättars in your lunch as well as blood sausages and paltblöd, do you want pâté?”
“Yeah sure, Scott is gonna throw up when he sees how much blood based food I’m eating.” Stiles laid his head on his arm, staring up at Deucalion.
“Okay mr. Dramatic, I’ll pack you a small pot of blood sausage pâté, Jesus Christ kiddo.” He Heard- Deucalion shuffle around the kitchen, Stiles just grunted in response, now that Derek was back he’d run into him which meant Stiles would have to hide his scent or at least smother it with someone else’s. He sighed heavily and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, slipping in his sunglasses and grabbing his flask.
“Bye uncle Duke, see ya later.”
“Yeah bye Mischief.”

“Dude what the fuck is that it stinks.” Scott pinched his nose, grimacing at the sight of Stiles’s lunch.
“Shut up, it's nutritious.” He shoveled food into his mouth, sharp teeth clacking against the metal of his spoon.
“So Scott, how you feeling?”
“Like I got bit by some random wolf.”
Stiles snorted, almost choking on his food in the process as tears tiptoed on the edge. Scott merely glared at Stiles, puffing out his chest a bit. Stiles hummed and looked at his friend.
“Oh yeah by the way the results came back from the lab from the dog hair they found on the body-” Stiles starred in bafflement at where Scott had once sat but the boy wasn’t there, Stiles looked around and groaned, Scott was following Allison around like a kicked puppy, pathetic. Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, perhaps he could get away with cutting it a bit, maybe like Ragnar Lothbrok, now that he mentioned it he should really read some more about Norse Mythology and finish Vikings, he was waiting for the new episodes to come out again. No, his father would have an aneurysm if Stiles cut his hair like that.

Stiles sat down on a roof, a bottle of whiskey in hand. After a positively riveting conversation with Scott about werewolves Stiles decided that just blanking our for a few hours would be great so he found an abandoned building, after a quick sniff and a search he found a lack of anything alive around, a scent of one or two vampires but it was stale, they were long gone which meant Stiles had the whole place to himself. After a quick boof of Black smoke and a few ol’ pumps of leathery wings Stiles found himself shifting back to a human at the roof of the building, whiskey clutched in his grip, the full moon shimmered and his jars of water were on his roof at home charging up, yes, he was a witch, bite him. He glugged down the rest of the alcohol and smashed the bottle against the floor, he couldn’t actually get drunk since technically he wasn’t actually alive so instead he just drank for the taste. Have you ever been told that drugs are bad? Well Stiles would agree, they didn’t do anything to him but he did have one drug, something only the supernatural could experience, mortals didn’t have that pleasure, they experienced it once before their souls moved on to the next body and forgot this immortal drug. The drug's name? Death. Stiles had lived a long, long life, he knew how that must seem because these people in this town knew him as a child, as a baby, well that’s because of something simple, magick. He used magick, every time he moved on he and his mother used magick, she came as a young woman with a newborn babe but with Jon it had been different, she had fallen so helplessly in love with him, to the point where she would die, end her immortal life for him and so she did but before that she brought her son with her, with Jon, to Beacon Hills. Stiles had been born from his mother’s womb back when people still fought over farms, he was born in Poland, to his mother and a man whose name was Jon. Claudia thought Jon was mortal and so bearing a vampire child, a grim vampire nonetheless was something she thought impossible but Stiles was born with the name Mieczysław on her lips, he was born with sharp fangs and burning silver eyes and so the cycle began. Jon was mortal in a sense, his body died but his soul lived on, Stiles hadn’t known it then but Claudia had sacrificed apart of her soul for Jon, every time he was born he would remember and return to her, return to Claudia and his son, over and over again, from ages twelve to eighty Jon spent his time trying to find his wife and his son, then he met with them and spent his life with them until he died and the cycle repeated. Jon’s predicament was due to himself even though it was partly his mother’s magick which had done this, she had performed a ritual with his consent to bind their souls but other than the binding the rest was due to Jon being a blessed one, a mortal the gods favoured and so they let his souls be born again with his past memories and join Claudia over and over again. Because of this Stiles was born with something similar, he could stop his aging like his mother and forever be young, be eighteen forever or he could let his body revert to a babes, when he did the revert he lost his memories and his mother would jog them again, if not by the age of ten he usually remembered on his own, he remembered his life, from birth till now, the wars, the diseases, everything. The only consistent thing he had experienced in his life was death, he had been told so many times that death was something to be feared, he had watched humans start wars and send in you haters because they didn’t want to die and so they sacrificed unnamed men. Stiles didn’t understand why they were so afaraid of death until one time a human had sat with him, she looked youngish, possibly late teens and she had said something to him he’d never forget.
“I didn’t fear death and in some ways I don’t, when it’s my time I’ll go but for some reason when I had that threat over my head my main thought was about the music I’d never get to listen to again.” She had laughed and told him that she’d never told anyone that before, she had pale skin and pretty brown hair that looked like a mix of gold and copper when the sun hit it, she had freckles splattering her face and the most amazing turquoise eyes, he had looked at her and laughed.
“I do not fear death, for me it is euphoric, I wake up after it and for that moment I had gotten out of my head, I had been set free, I never fear I won’t wake up, I just jump.” But that was a lie, once or twice he feared he wouldn’t wake up but he lived. She turned to him with a knowing smile, she took out a photo of someone’s Stiles recognised.
“Perhaps you don’t fear death in that way, perhaps you fear death in another way.” Then she had gotten up and walked alway, leaving Stiles gripping the picture of a solider in a tight grasp, tears rolling down his cheeks. Death was a drug for him, he had shot himself through the head, hung himself, drowned himself, thrown himself from heights above, moved in the way of artillery fire, gotten blown up, the list went on and on. It was amazing, if the death was quick he would feel no pain and would wake up with a fuzzy feeling, like his brain was made of cotton, it was nice, he might even dare to say he loved it. Stiles found death euphoric when he died but he didn’t always find death so great, not always.

Stiles stood on the edge of the roof, wind caressing his clothes, he looked down at the pavement below, grey and grimy, soon to he splattered with blood and in arms but what did he care, he would wake up brand new, go home, get into bed and carry on his day tomorrow like he hadn’t thrown himself off of a building the night before. Stiles took in a deep breath and fell.

Stiles awoke face first on the pavement, he laughed a bit as blood bubbles from his lips, he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position despite his bones creaking from the strain. He looked around him, pavement stained a dark brown where his blood had once been, he looked up at the moon, it was starting to set, times to get home. He picked up his rucksack and wiped off a clump of clotting blood from the stars, sucking on his finger, relishing the blood even if it did taste a bit stale. Whoever had said that vampires were beautiful creatures were so incredibly far from the truth, Stiles knew this because he was walking home in ratty clothes, blood staining his clothes and eyes burning a silver, his claws sharp like daggers, three three pair of fangs so large he couldn’t properly close his mouth, eyes sunken, cheeks hollowed, ears long and pointed, flicking at every sound, he was not beautiful. Stiles was wild, a force that had yet to be tamed, he opened his front door and slipped in, locking it behind him. He kicked off his shoes and went upstairs, pausing to press his ear against his dad’s bedroom door, the gentle heartbeat and soft breathing made him smile, his dad was home, alive. He changed out of his dirtied clothes, pulling on one of his dad’s old work t-shirts and climbed into bed, relishing the softness of the duvet against his old body.

He had met many versions of death, he remembered them clearly, each more defined than the last, each having that same broken glint in their eyes, he knew death and death knew him, they were not friends but rather familiar with each other, many could not say they had met death and lived but Stiles could, he could say he had gazed upon death. As he slept he wasn’t aware of the young girl who stalked the halls of his house, he wasn’t aware when she came into his room and gently tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, nor when she gently kissed his cheek. He awoke to the fleeting sensation of cool lips against his skin. His phone beeped unhappily.
From Scott 07:31
Yo dude can you come pick me up?
From Scott 07:32
I’m on one of the back roads coming in, East I think
From Scott 07:32
Duuuuude, cmon I’ll buy you curly fries or smthn
Stiles groaned and stood up, stretching his hands above his head, going onto his tip toes and groaning, serves Scott right for going out on a full moon even after Stiles had warned him! He rolled his eyes nonetheless, he slipped on an old red turtleneck jumper, a pair of black jeans and some doc martens, fashion wasn’t exactly his strong suit but he had worn worse. On his way out he grabbed the old black trenchcoat he had managed to buy on a sale about a hundred years ago, by sale he means he grabbed it from some dead guy who collapsed near his home. Stiles slipped into his jeep and played Holst’s The Planets Op. 32 through his radio, Scott always made fun of his music but what did Stiles care? It was Stiles’s Jeep and therefore his music!
To Scott 07:56
On my way

Stiles pulled up next to Scott who climbed in and slipped on the spare jacket Stiles kept lying around.
“You know what actually worries me the most?” Scott sighed and looked out the window.
“If you say "Allison," I'm gonna punch you in the head.” Stiles groaned, it had been Allison this and Allison that pretty much all of the last day, he hadn’t heard so much of one person in his life!
“She probably hates me now.” Scott sighed heavily, Stiles rolled his eyes.
“Ugh. I doubt that. But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology. Or, you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a frickin' Werewolf.” Stiles raised an eyebrow at his friend, Scott just gave him one of those your bullshit is pushing me towards the edge kinda looks.
“Okay, bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this. Come on, if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice.” Scott gave him another look although this one more of confusion rather than annoyance.
“I had a boa once. I could do it.”