After the "deadpool" everyone knew about supernatural creatures. So when the dead started walking the government thought they might either be the cause or the solution. After the world ended Rick and his crew may have finally found the best weapon against the walkers. Problem is it's a mouthy 17 year old kid that knows nothing about tact and is fed up with assholes. *cough-Shane-cough*
Bookmarked by StrifeLover
20 Sep 2017
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
05 Jun 2017
Stiles is used to being second tier in everyone's life. How easily people forget him and move on to bigger and better things. Used to always being in someone's shadow. Leave it to Derek Hale to shatter those expectations.
(Also, this fic is kind of a gift for my favorite fic writer, TheTyperwriterGirl, who gave us Home and a world to its own. This is one small way of thanking her.)
Bookmarked by StrifeLover
19 Sep 2017
Twelve years after leaving Beacon Hills, and everything it represented, Stiles is a well-respected analyst at the CIA. Unfortunately, life likes its irony, and Stiles finds his pretty fabulous CIA career turned on its side when an asset-turned-mark turns out to be a little less than human.
(In my Google Docs, this is in a folder called "Stiles CIA." Stiles is in the CIA! Canon divergence after season two.)
- Part 1 of Repeat 'Verse
Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.
"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up.
He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"
There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "
- Part 1 of where thou art, that is home
“No, I mean.” She takes the note, flustered. “Why are you so interested in helping? You don't even know us.”
Stiles swallows heavily, searching for the slender line between a lie and a truth that he doesn't want to speak. “Because I have a soft spot for idiot teenaged werewolves,” he says finally. “It's a character flaw."