flymetothemoo



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  1. Rec *

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    Stiles very slowly reached up with both hands and covered his neck as best he could before whispering, “Are you Vampires?”

    “What? No.” Derek couldn’t help the small laugh of disbelief that slid up his throat, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. It didn’t matter that he was thousands of years old, or that he was bigger and stronger than Stiles was. Somehow, he was pretty sure once this conversation was over, Stiles was going to be able to crush him like a bug, and he hated that feeling.

    “Didn’t you say he was smart?” Boyd asked.

    “Hey,” Stiles insisted, turning to him with a glare but not removing his hands from his neck. “Vampires is a perfectly logical guess in this case. And he said I was right on the Supernatural front. Vampires are Supernatural.”

    “He said you weren’t wrong,” Boyd corrected. “Not that you were right.”

    “Well, the opposite of wrong is right, so...” Stiles gave him a look, but turned back to Derek relatively quickly, as if realizing he was delaying his own answers.

    “We’re not Vampires,” Derek said, then let out a small sigh before admitting, “we’re immortal.”

    --

    Or: The Old Guard AU nobody asked for (except me).

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    19 Feb 2026

  2. Rec *

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    “I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

    That was a bad word. Not found.

    Have.

    Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

    One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

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    05 Feb 2026

  3. Rec *

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    Stiles died.

    Stiles died and came back a little bit wrong. Like, he's pretty sure he's a demon-type of wrong.

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    31 Jan 2026

  4. Rec *

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    Sam knew what he was signing up for when he married a senator running for Office. He knew what Riley’s job demanded. He knew the hours, the stress, the milling, and the perpetual buzz. Living his life constantly surrounded by everything, by an entire nation.

    But he had always dreamed of a quiet life. A place in the country with the man he loves, acres of greenery and trees, and flowers around them. A long winding road they could drive down on a warm Sunday afternoon. A big old farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a French kitchen. Some horses and a stable, and a little creek covered with a blanket of mist in the mornings.

    He gets what he wants in the most horrible of ways.

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    18 Jan 2026

  5. Rec *

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    It starts in Paris.

     

    “You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

    “Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

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    08 Jan 2026