This blog is mostly on Teen Wolf, Tyler Hoechlin & Dylan O'Brien. Occasionally on Darren Criss, Blaine Anderson, Glee. All images and gifs used does not belong to me.
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Reblogged from dyleon  75 notes
dyleon:

"It was just a small moment of Scott and Lydia nodding their heads to each other before they left with Scott howling.
Derek could still see them both after a few seconds. There weren’t any walls and not enough bricks to cover them from being seen from Stiles’ house. When they vanish from his vision, Derek sits down next Stiles not looking into his eyes first.”

We Rebuild for Siny
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Scott yells while he dusts off his clothes, coughing. “We need to go!”
“Wait,” Stiles cough, the dust burns in his eyes. He waves with his hand and stumbles to the ground and screams out. Shards from the broken windows are sinking into his hands. It’s slashing itself half way through Stiles’ hand, making him slip on his back ‘cause of the pain.
“Dude, are you okay?,” Scott says and jerks towards Stiles and looks to the front door again.
Stiles’ head clearly knows the answer, but the lie is coming out like nothing: “I’m okay.” Stiles says it without an undertone, dryly. Lying to Scott—lying in general—never was a problem for Stiles. He could fool his dad anytime he wanted to. Just because he knows about werewolves now, doesn’t change anything. He props himself up, pushing a few shards even deeper in his flesh and just looks at the floor, covert with leaves and dirt.
“Are you sure?”
Stiles snorts. No, of course he isn’t. That’s his house which they are in now. This wreck. This wreck used to be his home just a minute ago where it still had walls. “Yes, actually—I’m just gonna…”
When Stiles stands up and steps next to the broken drawers on the floor and kneels in front of them, Lydia looks at Scott, confused and full of pity. Stiles collects the silver ware. His hands are shaking and he almost drops every fork and knife when he tries to pick up another one.
“Stiles,” Lydia says from his back.
“No, my dad’s gonna be here soon! I—I don’t want him to,” Stiles pulls away of the feeling of Lydia’s touch, “…no. Just—just leave me here.”
Lydia gets pulled back from Derek who’s standing at the side of all this. “Derek, what are you—”
“Listen to him.”
“What?,” Scott and Lydia shout out at the same time.
“Derek, you know Kate—shape shifting bitch Kate—is out there killing everyone with her toy berserkers!”
Stiles shrugs when he hears how Lydia yells at Derek because of him. It’s selfish and childish. There are more important things, indeed but… It’s just too much now. He would still stand—keep fighting—when he would have just seen people dying. Because he would keep fighting to stop the endless and pointless deaths, but now he lost it.
That’s his life now. Walking around and hoping that his supernatural friends would do the job with bringing themselves in danger. While Stiles’ sitting on the debris of his house, he remembers again. He remembers the times where he used to walk down the no longer existing stairs when his mum called him for dinner. When she used to listen to his drum playing while dad was always yelling: “Quieter!” Stiles’ mum didn’t think it was too loud. She cheered everytime after he played and gave him a kiss on his head as a reward.
When he looks at the spots where all these things happened and just sees how crashed everything is now, it’s like his memories got ruined by it too.
“I can stay,” Derek says to Lydia and Scott. “In that state he wouldn’t be a help and I can’t do anything without my werewolf power anyway.”
It was just a small moment of Scott and Lydia nodding their heads to each other before they left with Scott howling.
Derek could still see them both after a few seconds. There weren’t any walls and not enough bricks to cover them from being seen from Stiles’ house. When they vanish from his vision, Derek sits down next Stiles not looking into his eyes first.
“You don’t have to do that if you want to fight.”
“I don’t want to fight, Stiles. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Stiles says and puts his arms around his knees, “Everyone’s dying and I’m just sitting here, forcing you to look for me.” Stiles snorts and looks at Derek whose eyes are focused in Stiles’. “Have you even seen the list?”
“Yes,” Derek says. He grabs into his jacket pocket and pulls out the three papers. “Lydia just gave me these yesterday. Haven’t thought that Parrish would turn out as… something too.”
“Yeah…”
 “Whose name was the third keyword by the way?” Derek says. He holds the lists near to each other. The start of the first list is torn away so that just the victims are seen on it.
Stiles’ breath went faster at that question. He tries to calm himself so Derek couldn’t hear his heartbeat but stopped it immediately when he realizes that his wolf senses aren’t functioning anyway. He just looks at the lists again and there it stands.
Derek Hale 15
He’s on the list, black on white.
“Stiles…,” Derek says and draws Stiles back, “whose name was the key?”
It’s a thing that happens in panic. What should he say to him? Hey Derek, Lydia just found out with her Banshee power that you’re going to die so you are definitely damned!
“Meredith Walker.”
“The other banshee in Eichen House?”
“Yes, she hung herself just a view days ago,” Stiles says and takes to list out of Derek’s hand, “We knew the keys for the lists are only people who are dead so Lydia typed her name in…”
“Smart.”
Stiles forced a smile on his face. He was just lucky Derek couldn’t smell his stress. He just wants to start crying but that would be weird and something that Stiles doesn’t know yet. The thought that Derek was the key. It made him feel—a lot of things actually, but he can’t sort those feelings—not now. “Heh, I guess…”
I little silence settled between them. It’s weird and almost awkward for Stiles. He just wants to say something, let his anger, his frustration out.
He can’t deal with this anymore. Everyone who used to know him, who Stiles used to care about, they are all in danger. And when they are not in danger it’s because of the fact that they’re already dead, killed by him.
I wish I was on the list, Stiles thinks.
The silence breaks with Derek voice and Stiles feels how Derek sits a little bit closer to him.
“Don’t say that,” Derek says, and it’s making Stiles’ heartbeat skip a beat because he apparently just said that he wishes to be on the dead pool out loud.
Stiles doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t defend himself for thinking that because it’s just making the others concerned but it comes out anyway. “But I’d deserve it.”
Stiles can feel Derek’s heat next to him, like anger growing, but then Stiles suddenly feel Derek’s hand on his shoulder. “You did nothing which would let you deserve death.”
“Err… I killed Allison and Aiden?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I di—”
“No, you weren’t the one who killed them,” Derek says out, so loud it almost seems like he’s yelling at him. “The Nogitsune killed them. It used you to get the result, to make it happen, but you didn’t kill them. You were just used as a tool and that’s not your fault…”
The words which are coming out of Derek’s mouth wake Stiles. Derek speaks from his experience, Stiles knows that. And it breaks Stiles. It breaks Stiles’ shell off. He just starts to cry into Derek’s arms.
Stiles wants to speak, wants to say thank you but all that comes out is sobbing and whining.
“SShhhhhhh,” Derek says and wraps his arms tighter around Stiles and strokes his back, “it’s okay…”
Stiles just cries and cries into Derek’s hug and imagines how Derek must felt when he got home, seeing his house burned down into ashes, how Derek must have cried too and how desperate he probably was.
“H—How,” Stiles says when he finally catches himself again, “How d—did you come t—through it?”
“I survived,” Derek says with a smile on his face, when Stiles pulled away.
“And I should do the same. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Derek snort and looks down, his eyes shut, and locks his eyes at Stiles’ again. “I’m not saying that you should do it. You just do it.”
The wind blows through the bricks and leaves of the trees above and beneath them. Ten minutes probably just went by but it felt for Stiles like hours when they just sit there and looked into each other’s eyes. Stiles’ into Derek’s and Derek’s into Stiles’ eyes which were swollen from crying.
“Derek,” Stiles asks while they are still staring, leaning a little bit forward and gulps, “Can I…?”
“Yes.”
After their lips part again, they just wait for Stiles’ dad to come back from his night shift, sitting in the rubble of the house. But Stiles doesn’t feel like he just lost his home. No. Something that he never knew was there had begun. He just needed to start building it upright.
Stiles fell asleep in Derek’s arms.

dyleon:

"It was just a small moment of Scott and Lydia nodding their heads to each other before they left with Scott howling.

Derek could still see them both after a few seconds. There weren’t any walls and not enough bricks to cover them from being seen from Stiles’ house. When they vanish from his vision, Derek sits down next Stiles not looking into his eyes first.”

We Rebuild for Siny

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Scott yells while he dusts off his clothes, coughing. “We need to go!”

“Wait,” Stiles cough, the dust burns in his eyes. He waves with his hand and stumbles to the ground and screams out. Shards from the broken windows are sinking into his hands. It’s slashing itself half way through Stiles’ hand, making him slip on his back ‘cause of the pain.

“Dude, are you okay?,” Scott says and jerks towards Stiles and looks to the front door again.

Stiles’ head clearly knows the answer, but the lie is coming out like nothing: “I’m okay.” Stiles says it without an undertone, dryly. Lying to Scott—lying in general—never was a problem for Stiles. He could fool his dad anytime he wanted to. Just because he knows about werewolves now, doesn’t change anything. He props himself up, pushing a few shards even deeper in his flesh and just looks at the floor, covert with leaves and dirt.

“Are you sure?”

Stiles snorts. No, of course he isn’t. That’s his house which they are in now. This wreck. This wreck used to be his home just a minute ago where it still had walls. “Yes, actually—I’m just gonna…”

When Stiles stands up and steps next to the broken drawers on the floor and kneels in front of them, Lydia looks at Scott, confused and full of pity. Stiles collects the silver ware. His hands are shaking and he almost drops every fork and knife when he tries to pick up another one.

“Stiles,” Lydia says from his back.

“No, my dad’s gonna be here soon! I—I don’t want him to,” Stiles pulls away of the feeling of Lydia’s touch, “…no. Just—just leave me here.”

Lydia gets pulled back from Derek who’s standing at the side of all this. “Derek, what are you—”

“Listen to him.”

“What?,” Scott and Lydia shout out at the same time.

“Derek, you know Kate—shape shifting bitch Kate—is out there killing everyone with her toy berserkers!”

Stiles shrugs when he hears how Lydia yells at Derek because of him. It’s selfish and childish. There are more important things, indeed but… It’s just too much now. He would still stand—keep fighting—when he would have just seen people dying. Because he would keep fighting to stop the endless and pointless deaths, but now he lost it.

That’s his life now. Walking around and hoping that his supernatural friends would do the job with bringing themselves in danger. While Stiles’ sitting on the debris of his house, he remembers again. He remembers the times where he used to walk down the no longer existing stairs when his mum called him for dinner. When she used to listen to his drum playing while dad was always yelling: “Quieter!” Stiles’ mum didn’t think it was too loud. She cheered everytime after he played and gave him a kiss on his head as a reward.

When he looks at the spots where all these things happened and just sees how crashed everything is now, it’s like his memories got ruined by it too.

“I can stay,” Derek says to Lydia and Scott. “In that state he wouldn’t be a help and I can’t do anything without my werewolf power anyway.”

It was just a small moment of Scott and Lydia nodding their heads to each other before they left with Scott howling.

Derek could still see them both after a few seconds. There weren’t any walls and not enough bricks to cover them from being seen from Stiles’ house. When they vanish from his vision, Derek sits down next Stiles not looking into his eyes first.

“You don’t have to do that if you want to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight, Stiles. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Stiles says and puts his arms around his knees, “Everyone’s dying and I’m just sitting here, forcing you to look for me.” Stiles snorts and looks at Derek whose eyes are focused in Stiles’. “Have you even seen the list?”

“Yes,” Derek says. He grabs into his jacket pocket and pulls out the three papers. “Lydia just gave me these yesterday. Haven’t thought that Parrish would turn out as… something too.”

“Yeah…”

 “Whose name was the third keyword by the way?” Derek says. He holds the lists near to each other. The start of the first list is torn away so that just the victims are seen on it.

Stiles’ breath went faster at that question. He tries to calm himself so Derek couldn’t hear his heartbeat but stopped it immediately when he realizes that his wolf senses aren’t functioning anyway. He just looks at the lists again and there it stands.

Derek Hale 15

He’s on the list, black on white.

“Stiles…,” Derek says and draws Stiles back, “whose name was the key?”

It’s a thing that happens in panic. What should he say to him? Hey Derek, Lydia just found out with her Banshee power that you’re going to die so you are definitely damned!

“Meredith Walker.”

“The other banshee in Eichen House?”

“Yes, she hung herself just a view days ago,” Stiles says and takes to list out of Derek’s hand, “We knew the keys for the lists are only people who are dead so Lydia typed her name in…”

“Smart.”

Stiles forced a smile on his face. He was just lucky Derek couldn’t smell his stress. He just wants to start crying but that would be weird and something that Stiles doesn’t know yet. The thought that Derek was the key. It made him feel—a lot of things actually, but he can’t sort those feelings—not now. “Heh, I guess…”

I little silence settled between them. It’s weird and almost awkward for Stiles. He just wants to say something, let his anger, his frustration out.

He can’t deal with this anymore. Everyone who used to know him, who Stiles used to care about, they are all in danger. And when they are not in danger it’s because of the fact that they’re already dead, killed by him.

I wish I was on the list, Stiles thinks.

The silence breaks with Derek voice and Stiles feels how Derek sits a little bit closer to him.

“Don’t say that,” Derek says, and it’s making Stiles’ heartbeat skip a beat because he apparently just said that he wishes to be on the dead pool out loud.

Stiles doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t defend himself for thinking that because it’s just making the others concerned but it comes out anyway. “But I’d deserve it.”

Stiles can feel Derek’s heat next to him, like anger growing, but then Stiles suddenly feel Derek’s hand on his shoulder. “You did nothing which would let you deserve death.”

“Err… I killed Allison and Aiden?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I di—”

“No, you weren’t the one who killed them,” Derek says out, so loud it almost seems like he’s yelling at him. “The Nogitsune killed them. It used you to get the result, to make it happen, but you didn’t kill them. You were just used as a tool and that’s not your fault…”

The words which are coming out of Derek’s mouth wake Stiles. Derek speaks from his experience, Stiles knows that. And it breaks Stiles. It breaks Stiles’ shell off. He just starts to cry into Derek’s arms.

Stiles wants to speak, wants to say thank you but all that comes out is sobbing and whining.

“SShhhhhhh,” Derek says and wraps his arms tighter around Stiles and strokes his back, “it’s okay…”

Stiles just cries and cries into Derek’s hug and imagines how Derek must felt when he got home, seeing his house burned down into ashes, how Derek must have cried too and how desperate he probably was.

“H—How,” Stiles says when he finally catches himself again, “How d—did you come t—through it?”

“I survived,” Derek says with a smile on his face, when Stiles pulled away.

“And I should do the same. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

Derek snort and looks down, his eyes shut, and locks his eyes at Stiles’ again. “I’m not saying that you should do it. You just do it.”

The wind blows through the bricks and leaves of the trees above and beneath them. Ten minutes probably just went by but it felt for Stiles like hours when they just sit there and looked into each other’s eyes. Stiles’ into Derek’s and Derek’s into Stiles’ eyes which were swollen from crying.

“Derek,” Stiles asks while they are still staring, leaning a little bit forward and gulps, “Can I…?”

“Yes.”

After their lips part again, they just wait for Stiles’ dad to come back from his night shift, sitting in the rubble of the house. But Stiles doesn’t feel like he just lost his home. No. Something that he never knew was there had begun. He just needed to start building it upright.

Stiles fell asleep in Derek’s arms.