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#aawwwwww – @thedaughterofkings on Tumblr
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Mellon

@thedaughterofkings / thedaughterofkings.tumblr.com

Lessa, She/Her This is one big mess of fandoms, with Merlin and Teen Wolf being the main fandoms right now. My fics can be found here.
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I guess this piece marks the end of spooky season and the beginning of serious fall vibes and colder weather. Anyway, here's some Sterek art I dug out of my WIP queue and finally finished drawing, complete with a triple drabble! For @sterekweek-2024's Day 7 theme prompt: Trick or Treat (Moon). Also crosses off the “accidents” square for my @hurtcomfort-bingo card and the “presumed dead” square for @twbingo’s Situations card 016. Definitely went with the mysterious and hopeful ending vibe with a dash of hurt/comfort, because I couldn't kill my favs off. I hope everyone had a good Halloween!

Title: Whispers at Night (<- read on AO3) Rating: Teen WC: 333 Tags: Halloween, Late Night Conversations, Ghosts, Spirits, Temporary Character Death, Mystery, Suspense, Spells & Enchantments, Magical Accidents, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Digital Art, Mixed Media, Triple Drabble, POV Stiles Stilinski

Summary: At least Stiles is acknowledging the obvious out loud. Because they’re both still transparent. As in, Stiles can see trees and the full moon through his own body. And Derek’s. * [Or: On All Hallows' Eve, Stiles and Derek take a moment to reflect on what they have before they need to find their way back to their physical bodies.]

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Anonymous asked:

Also #6 “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” with Sterek for the drabble ask thing. :D -GSS

6. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

*

How Derek still manages to find it within himself to be surprised by anything anymore, he's not entirely sure. You'd think after a certain level of crazy, he'd have reached a kind of inner peace in re: living in Beacon Hills. Apparently not.

"Is there a reason you're naked in my bed," he says, and looks down at Stiles, who is sprawled across Derek's super king like a cat being deliberately obtuse. He's all long limbs and pale skin dotted with moles, and Derek drags his eyes away and up to Stiles' face, which goes from slack to wide awake to panicked to calm in a matter of seconds.

"Buh," Stiles says, and raises a hand to try to lazily wave Derek away, as though Derek is a minor inconvenience in his life, and furthermore, is interrupting his rest.

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There was a slightly familiar, large lump underneath Stiles’ comforter when he got home from school. “Derek?” He asked, dropping his backpack and books at his desk as he noticed the tuft of unkempt black hair poking out from atop the covers. Yup, definitely Derek.

The werewolf grumbled in response. “What?” He snapped, voice a clipped, bitchy snarl.

Stiles made his way over to the side of the bed. As if Derek-the-werewolf-burrito sensed it, he pulled the covers higher over his head, probably to avoid him. “Why are you in my bed?” He asked, confused.

“Reasons,” Derek answered stubbornly. “Go away.”

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