Vnika



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    Fortune favored the prepared, or at least that's what Stiles always believed. Never did he think the emergency supplies he'd accumulated in the event of a major disaster would ever be used.

    When the world goes to hell thanks to a catastrophic outbreak, their small group of survivors has to make it halfway across the country where Gerard Argent apparently built an apocalypse-proof homestead (Leave it to that horrible man to be paranoid enough before his death for it to benefit them after it).

    The road won't be easy, especially because there are almost a thousand miles separating him from college and Beacon Hills. He has no intentions of letting that stop him. He was nothing if not determined.

    Can everyone make it to Iowa alive, and what will it cost them along the way?

    Soundtrack linked on Spotify and 8tracks
    Original idea based on Au prompt from whatbethsays.tumblr.com
    Being reunited after surviving the zombie
    apocalypse unknowing if the other was dead
    or alive

    MINOR UPDATES MADE 9-9-15

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    22 Feb 2019

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    “Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

    “I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

    “This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

    *

    When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

    Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

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    02 Feb 2019

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    There's a relentless dark shape tearing through the pack and that's only the half of it. Stiles just wants to sleep and stop being haunted by the faces of his night-time tormentors. His dad thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress, Scott thinks he's suffering the after-effects of the ritual; Stiles thinks they're both reasonable theories, except for the part where Derek Hale is the only thing that can take his nightmares away and it seems that fact is no coincidence.

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    16 Dec 2018

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    “Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

    Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

    “Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

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    07 Dec 2018

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    January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

    The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

    So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

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    06 Dec 2018

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