
QUICK UPDATE FROM THE ARTIST:
Poster of this piece will be for sale during MCM in London (May 24-26).

Sterek | Troy AU:
“You gave me peace in a lifetime of war.”
why there is not an AU for this is beyond me D;
FINALLY, HERE IS THE NEXT PART. I changed the direction drastically from where it was going, and I decided that Boyd, Erica, and Isaac needed more time in my fic :) Next part has JAIME! :D
~*~*~*~*~*
Stiles considers sitting with the pack at lunch for all of five minutes.
OMG! I seriously need this fic to be finished like yesterday :((
prompt: the ties that bind
Derek really needs to work on his knotting skills. Not that Stiles is complaining…It’s only taken me four weeks into a porn challenge to get to a respectable R. BABY STEPS!
Please see my LJ for artist notes and refs.
:jaw drops:
Sterek AU: Years after his family moved out from Beacon Hills, Derek Hale decides to come back to his home town. He renovates his old house and opens a car repair shop. (Suddenly, half of the population of Beacon Hills decides they need to have their cars repaired. At Hale’s repair shop, of course.)
It’s summer holidays. Stiles sees Derek for the first time when he and Scott drag their luggage across the Beacon Hills Bus Station parking lot. That’s the moment in which Stiles decides he is not going to take part in the whole “Hale insanity” phase. Stiles learnt his lesson about crushing on people way out of his league: don’t even bother, boy (thank you, Lydia Martin). His college hook-ups were easy after he accepted this.
So, in the grocery shop he snatches the last apricot juice from under Derek’s nose. Stiles is for equality and he thinks being handsome should not give you privileges (of buying the last apricot juice, for example. First come, first served). And when he’s having a problem with his Jeep he goes to the good old Armor. He’s doing just fine at ignoring Derek Hale’s existence. Things get difficult when for some mysterious reason, Derek decides to take an interest in Stiles.
“Something happened,” He says, and a coffee shop really wasn’t an ideal setting to bleed amber eyes like that, but Stiles does it anyway; something solemn lining his mouth. “Something bad.”
It wasn’t like Derek hadn’t known. The coffee shop had reeked like something recently turned, bred with the tension of anxiety. Intermingled with Stiles; it was a dangerous concoction. It was more-so wistful thinking on his part that what was striking him in the face wasn’t actually true. A faux-pas. A fluke.
The message is clear, but Stiles was speaking anyway, eyes closed because he knows what they look like - could read it off Derek’s face.
“You can’t.”
“Stiles -” Derek starts, because it’s Stiles. But the boy shakes his head fiercely, his jaw a hard-line of pure clench.
“No. You don’t do that to them. Not because of me.”
And in his head, Derek could see it. The foolish child in red, touching trees as he makes his way along the path, and the wolf drenched in ink to bleed away into the night happening upon him. Just one quick punch of the teeth, and it’s done. Did Stiles scream? There’s another question dangling at the back of his head, but he knows the answer.
Despite his better effort, Stiles would go if they called. One Alpha calling is one thing. A whole pack of them is another. Derek’s own eyes react to the idea, face slack in a nonplussed expression, and he has to close them. So he doesn’t think, so he doesn’t look at Stiles; so he doesn’t give away his birth-nature to anyone moving around the cafe. The words fade into his mind as if they’ve been said to him aloud, white chicken scrawl on black. It’s an enticement, and a threat:
Kill them. Join us.
Or he’s ours.
….SO…..
anyone else hoping that Deucalion is coming to Beacon Hills to make sex slaves of the whole pack?
oh just me……
….okay….
\o/