This is definitely King Derek being threatened by the Argents and he needs an alliance, quick. Even if it’s just for show, he needs them to think his kingdom isn’t alone and an easy target. And I’ve decided that this will not only be fake married, but also a dash of fake royalty! Stiles is Aladdin without the genie! Or maybe Scott is the genie in this scenario.
Scott works with Derek in the palace. I’m going to say he’s an advisor or something. He’s the guy who’s constantly out in the countryside and villages, talking with the people, finding out what they need to live, and reporting back to Derek. Derek wants to do this himself, does it as much as he can, but he’s king. He’s got a lot of other things going on with the Argents looking for war, and he doesn’t have the time.
So knowing pretty much everyone in the kingdom personally, Scott’s the one who comes up with it all.
“You need a marriage alliance,” he tells Derek, who already knows this.
“And who do you suggest I marry, Scott?” All of the neighboring kingdoms, and even their neighboring kingdoms have their own alliances established and marriages planned. There aren’t many spare royals around. He tells Scott all of this, even though he knows he already knows.
“Then we go north,” Scott shrugs. “There are kingdoms beyond the mountains, there must be someone willing to marry.”
Derek raises his eyebrows dubiously. The north has an…interesting reputation. There’s a reason no one makes alliances across the mountains. It’s cold and wild up there, and the people are the same. Ruthless, hard, unforgiving in battle. They would be a good alliance when it comes to defending the kingdom, but awful the rest of the time. They can’t open up their kingdom to barbarians, and even if they could, there wasn’t enough time to arrange it.
“A messenger wouldn’t even make it across the mountains before the Argents attack, let alone find an ally.”
“Alright, then we fake it.” Scott says it as if it were actually that simple.
“A fake marriage? To a spouse who is always conveniently away on business?”
“We find someone to play the part.”
“Of course,” Derek says with biting sarcasm. “Round up all of our fair skinned subjects here in the far south.” The very few northerners who have crossed the mountains have a very specific look that isn’t found in the south. They’re pale with dark features, nothing like the tanned skin that comes to seafarers of the warmer climate. They’d never be able to find someone to play the part convincingly. “They would see through it in a second and kill us on the spot.”
Harry Potter (2001-2011) ϟ “It’s cruel that I got to spend so much time with James and Lily, and you so little. But know this: the ones that love us never really leave us. And you can always find them… in here.”
So more Teen Wolf Fanart, here is the ray of sunshine that is Keahu Kahuanui (Danny). Really happy with how this one turned out, still love my Derek Hale one too, maybe better. Oh well, here it is 🙂 I hope you like it, hopefully one day I’ll have the whole Teen Wolf cast painted :D. Please do not claim this as your own our take it and modify it in anyway, Copyright to me 🙂 thanks guys!
It was the preternatural stillness that caught Derek’s eye.
Among the chaos of swinging knives and swiping claws, he stood in the shadows, head cocked as if listening. None of the hunters even knew he was there, relentlessly coming at Derek over and over until there was only one left standing. The only reason Derek noticed him at all was the absence of sound. Around him was a cacophony of hammering heartbeats, grunts of exertion, and tearing flesh, except for the pocket of silence in the dark, more sinister than the symphony of death ringing in his ears.
With a final slash of his claws the last hunter fell, and the shadow stepped forward, gracefully moving over the dead bodies, eyes red as blood. Alpha red, Derek thought as he looked at the deceptively young face.
“Hello, Pup.” His low, rumbling voice was practically a purr, and Derek racked his brain, desperately trying to recall any tidbit his mother had told him about vampires. But every thought flew out of his head when the creature walked up to him, placed a cool hand on the back of his neck and whispered, “We’re going to make a pretty good pair.”
Sterek will always be the ship that never dies for me.
No matter where I try to go or who I think I’ve moved onto, I’ll be lying in my bed at night or pouring a bowl of cereal, and just when I think I’ve made it safely off the ship and onto dry land my brain will go
So you guys really really love Hoechlin’s beard. 😉 And these aren’t even all the beard related asks I have in my askbox, but these were the ones I feel like I could handwave enough to lob together for one prompt fill. So here it is! A fic about how a beard ruined Stiles’ life! (There’s actually a lot less beard love in here than I planned, but there’s a lot of love for the lumberjack image, so deal with it.)
* * *
Stiles is gonna die. This is it, this is the end, farewell cruel
world. Except, how cruel can the world be when it creates a person
that looks like… that?
The person in question is in the same gas station Stiles is, paying
for gas while Stiles is perusing the magazines. Or, rather, pretending to peruse the magazines so he can covertly ogle the
object of his attraction.
The guy is tall, or at least he looks it. Without those big work
boots on he’s probably about Stiles’ height, but he just cuts such a
noticeable figure that it’s hard to tell. He’s broad, showing off
strong, hairy forearms under the rolled up sleeves of his plaid
button-up, and Stiles only dares a quick look at the pert ass in the
dark jeans. Any more than that and he’s gonna have a situation
the likes of which he hasn’t had since he was a teenager, where a
brisk breeze could get him going.
But the pièce de résistance, without question, is the beard.
It’s lush, full, all kinds of words that signify something glorious
and soft that Stiles wants to rub his entire body against. There’s
the tiniest smidge of gray breaking up the black, and it’s not
hurting the image at all. Plus, the guy can’t be that old.
He’s got a full mane of black hair and not that many wrinkles that
Stiles can see. Not that it would matter, Stiles would still want to
be all up in this man’s business if he was a senior citizen. The
heart – or whatever is talking right now – wants what it wants.
Actually, the only real problem that Stiles can find is that from now
on there’s a very real risk he’s gonna pop a boner over Paul Bunyan
from sheer association.
shealwaysreads 