Liriadis



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    Derek looked like the stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had his hands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—his eyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

    “No,” Stiles said, blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to be wrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

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    07 Oct 2021

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    There's a pattern Sheriff Stilinski just can't ignore.

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    07 Oct 2021

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    One of Stiles' favorite things about life is Derek Hale's food blog. He never expects to meet the man in person.

    ~

    “Derek,” he says again, and the name feels very strange on his tongue. “You don’t mean Derek Hale.”

    His professor’s eyebrows reach up, eyes widening. “You read his blog?”

    "Uh. Worship. Would be a better more descriptive word. That is Derek Hale?"

    Jimmy chuckles. "Good-looking guy, huh?"

    "You mean to tell me the Food Network hasn't snatched him up to dethrone everyone else from daytime TV."

    Jimmy smiles a small private smile. "I don't think TV is his medium."

    Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Shy?"

    The man laughs heartily at that. "No, I wouldn't say that. He just has particular forms of expression, like eyebrows and chili powder."

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    07 Oct 2021

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    In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

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    07 Oct 2021

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    Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

    As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

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    07 Oct 2021