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I've been going through all the stuff I wrote for NaNoWriMo 2013. There are some bits and pieces I like and wanted to share. None of the stories are good enough in their entirety to be shared yet, but I did find some things I figured I could put up here.
Here's a piece from near the beginning of Chiaroscuro, a Teen Wolf fanfic:
Scott, Stiles and Allison have been away from Beacon Hills and each other for over two years. Now that they've finally been able to return and reunite, there's a surprise Scott wasn't prepared for: Stiles has been turned into a werebat.
"I've run into some insane shit out there and more than a couple of insane were-whatevers." Stiles gave Scott a brief look over his shoulder. "It's power, easy to abuse, and some species corrupt their slaves in ways more noticeable than others."
"You're not like that," Scott said immediately. "You wouldn't let that sort of darkness take over you."
Stiles hesitated, his gaze again anywhere but on Scott. "I'm not so sure."
"How could you not be sure?" Scott asked, honest-to-God gaping at his best friend. "You don't have that kind of streak in you."
"No, I do," Stiles corrected him. Not viciously, just stating a fact. "Pretty much everyone on this planet does. I'm still not convinced you're one of such people, but everyone else I have met certainly is. And the whole sacrifice thing we did to catch the darach and find our parents... well, you know the sort of darkness that brought to the surface in all of us."
"Yeah, but we found a way to beat it back," Scott said softly.
"Sure," Stiles agreed easily, but there was weariness in his tone when he reached for one of the pots. "Friends. Love. Family. Relationships that last and that mean something."
"Yeah," Scott said and took two pans and followed Stiles out of the kitchen and into the open room where there was a long table along one wall, opposite the one where the door to the kitchen was. "You sound like you don't think it's true."
"No, it is true, I know that," Stiles said. "It's just - you saw the chaos our presence stirred up here two years ago. That chaos had been brewing all through our high school years. We couldn't go anywhere together because not only is this place a magnet for trouble, we are beacons in our own right these days as well. Like darkness beacons. We can't even be anywhere together without some kind of horde of creatures screaming and coming to attack us in force."
"Yeah," Scott agreed softly. "I know. But that doesn't mean we can't keep the darkness away."
"You can," Stiles said simply as he set the pot on one of the hotplates on the table. He turned to look at Scott and the expression on his face was serious and tired. "You have that kind of strength of mind and character, Scott, but not all of us do."
"That's not --" Scott nearly spilled some of the contents of one of the pans he was holding, prompting Stiles to nab it from him. They both set their pans down on their allocated spaces on the table. With that out of the way, Scott turned his full attention to Stiles. "That isn't true."
Stiles sighed. "Do you remember what being a True Alpha means, Scott? It means that a Beta had the strength of mind and character to rise above the rest of his or her peers. Deaton told you exactly how rarely that happens. It means you're special, Scott."
"Everyone is special. You are special." Scott gave Stiles an intent look, trying to convey everything he felt, the truth behind his words. "I couldn't have done that, become an Alpha without all of you."
"That's my point, dumbass," Stiles said. "The whole friendship thing? It works for you. It works for the rest of us, too, but you take it to whole different levels with its abstractness. The rest of us need actual contact every now and then to be able to stay sane and not get dragged down by the darkness."
Scott's expression softened into something almost sad. "I don't mean to say it's easy. It isn't. But we know our friends will always be there for us, right? So we can believe in that and in making the world a better place, for their sake and for the sake of every human being on this planet."
"That's what I was talking about," Stiles said and poked Scott in the shoulder before turning to go back to the kitchen to pick up the rest of the dishes. "You never fail to believe the best or to remember how well things are and how certain it is that everything will be the same always."
Scott took a couple of longer steps, almost jogging to reach Stiles' side as they crossed the floor back to the kitchen.
"I don't know things will be the same," he said, earnest in a way he wasn't sure he understood completely himself. "I hope things will stay the same, but I can't know for sure. All I can do is keep believing that everyone is all right and getting along well and do what I can while I'm waiting for a chance to come back to everyone I love."
"That's what makes you strong, Scott," Stiles said, unruffled. "You are capable of doing that on your own with the shadows of your friends there to support you. For some of us, it's harder to remember the people are still there or to dispel doubts. It's human nature to doubt things." He made a face. "Which is good, because given how idiotic most of this race is, we'd have died out long ago if a handful of our ancestors hadn't been smart enough to not immediately gobble down some bright red berries that ended up killing everyone who ate them."
Scott smiled faintly at the tangent. So like Stiles, but Scott could see through the deflection attempt and didn't rise to the bait. "Doubts are part of life. Remember Glen Capri?"
Stiles' step faltered and the expression that passed his face was an exaggerated grimace, but there was something deeply disturbed underneath that. "How could I forget? Worst few hours of my life, and I've had more sucky hours in my life than I care to remember or have time to recount."
Scott nodded. "I had my doubts when we were at Glen Capri. You never stopped believing in me. You talked sense into me. That didn't make the feelings go away as though nothing had happened, but..."
Scott looked at Stiles and stopped him from walking by standing right in front of him, only a foot of space between them. "You brought me back. And if you hadn't, neither of us would be standing here."
"Yeah," Stiles said after a moment's pause. "And if we'd been a minute or two late to arrive outside, what then? You'd have been dead and gone for good."
"But you didn't come out too late," Scott said. "That's what counts."
"Yeah, but that's exactly what I'm trying to tell you, Scott," Stiles said and gestured randomly in frustration. "We all have moments of desperation and doubt. Moments when we need friends and parents and lovers to bring us back from the brink. There's no way you can fight against all the fucked-up creatures out there and not need some time off to relax with your buddies. But there's always that question in the back of our minds, because I know Allison had her tough times too, about whether this time we'll be left alone for a little too long. Whether one of us ends up dropping the flare into the puddle of gasoline, on purpose or not."
Scott wanted to reach out to Stiles, and at any other time, might have done so, but there was something jumpy about Stiles' body language that told him that it would likely not be a smart thing to do. "I'm always there in spirit. I'd be there physically for either, for both of you, always and forever, if I could."
"Yeah. You would." Stiles sighed and raked a hand through his hair - a little longer than it had been the last time Scott had seen him, like he hadn't had time to get it cut lately. "That's not the issue."
"It's about feeling like you're not in control," Scott said slowly. "Or like your death is the only thing you could even influence anymore."
Stiles inclined his head in agreement.
"That's it, yeah. Tell me you haven't ever wondered whether we fucked up this place, or hell, most of the planet by just wanting to save our own parents from becoming human sacrifices to a crazy power-hungry darach." Stiles' expression grew colder, angrier, but the anger wasn't directed at Scott. "That us dying wouldn't put a stop to all this death and destruction and fighting we've been seeing on all the continents we've been to."
"It wouldn't," Scott said decisively. He had thought about that, yes. He knew better, but it wasn't so easy to dismiss such thinking patterns. "That wouldn't help matters any. We're the only ones who can really do anything to rein this in."
"See, this is where it gets so frustrating," Stiles said, annoyed. "It's so officious of us to think only we can do this. There's more than seven billion people on this planet. What can three kids do to save everyone in it from all kinds of nasties from a bunch of cultures whose legends they aren't even familiar with, even in passing? You're at least an Alpha wolf, but Allison's a hunter, basically just a human with kick-ass aim and technique in handling a bow and a crazy weapons arsenal at her disposal. Me? I was just a human with some sarcasm as my only line of defense, and let me tell you, sarcasm often doesn't translate well if you don't know the local language at all. In short: what the hell were we doing out there?"
Scott's gaze was steady and unwavering as he caught Stiles' eye. "What had to be done. Nothing more, nothing less."
Here's a piece from near the beginning of Chiaroscuro, a Teen Wolf fanfic:
Scott, Stiles and Allison have been away from Beacon Hills and each other for over two years. Now that they've finally been able to return and reunite, there's a surprise Scott wasn't prepared for: Stiles has been turned into a werebat.
"I've run into some insane shit out there and more than a couple of insane were-whatevers." Stiles gave Scott a brief look over his shoulder. "It's power, easy to abuse, and some species corrupt their slaves in ways more noticeable than others."
"You're not like that," Scott said immediately. "You wouldn't let that sort of darkness take over you."
Stiles hesitated, his gaze again anywhere but on Scott. "I'm not so sure."
"How could you not be sure?" Scott asked, honest-to-God gaping at his best friend. "You don't have that kind of streak in you."
"No, I do," Stiles corrected him. Not viciously, just stating a fact. "Pretty much everyone on this planet does. I'm still not convinced you're one of such people, but everyone else I have met certainly is. And the whole sacrifice thing we did to catch the darach and find our parents... well, you know the sort of darkness that brought to the surface in all of us."
"Yeah, but we found a way to beat it back," Scott said softly.
"Sure," Stiles agreed easily, but there was weariness in his tone when he reached for one of the pots. "Friends. Love. Family. Relationships that last and that mean something."
"Yeah," Scott said and took two pans and followed Stiles out of the kitchen and into the open room where there was a long table along one wall, opposite the one where the door to the kitchen was. "You sound like you don't think it's true."
"No, it is true, I know that," Stiles said. "It's just - you saw the chaos our presence stirred up here two years ago. That chaos had been brewing all through our high school years. We couldn't go anywhere together because not only is this place a magnet for trouble, we are beacons in our own right these days as well. Like darkness beacons. We can't even be anywhere together without some kind of horde of creatures screaming and coming to attack us in force."
"Yeah," Scott agreed softly. "I know. But that doesn't mean we can't keep the darkness away."
"You can," Stiles said simply as he set the pot on one of the hotplates on the table. He turned to look at Scott and the expression on his face was serious and tired. "You have that kind of strength of mind and character, Scott, but not all of us do."
"That's not --" Scott nearly spilled some of the contents of one of the pans he was holding, prompting Stiles to nab it from him. They both set their pans down on their allocated spaces on the table. With that out of the way, Scott turned his full attention to Stiles. "That isn't true."
Stiles sighed. "Do you remember what being a True Alpha means, Scott? It means that a Beta had the strength of mind and character to rise above the rest of his or her peers. Deaton told you exactly how rarely that happens. It means you're special, Scott."
"Everyone is special. You are special." Scott gave Stiles an intent look, trying to convey everything he felt, the truth behind his words. "I couldn't have done that, become an Alpha without all of you."
"That's my point, dumbass," Stiles said. "The whole friendship thing? It works for you. It works for the rest of us, too, but you take it to whole different levels with its abstractness. The rest of us need actual contact every now and then to be able to stay sane and not get dragged down by the darkness."
Scott's expression softened into something almost sad. "I don't mean to say it's easy. It isn't. But we know our friends will always be there for us, right? So we can believe in that and in making the world a better place, for their sake and for the sake of every human being on this planet."
"That's what I was talking about," Stiles said and poked Scott in the shoulder before turning to go back to the kitchen to pick up the rest of the dishes. "You never fail to believe the best or to remember how well things are and how certain it is that everything will be the same always."
Scott took a couple of longer steps, almost jogging to reach Stiles' side as they crossed the floor back to the kitchen.
"I don't know things will be the same," he said, earnest in a way he wasn't sure he understood completely himself. "I hope things will stay the same, but I can't know for sure. All I can do is keep believing that everyone is all right and getting along well and do what I can while I'm waiting for a chance to come back to everyone I love."
"That's what makes you strong, Scott," Stiles said, unruffled. "You are capable of doing that on your own with the shadows of your friends there to support you. For some of us, it's harder to remember the people are still there or to dispel doubts. It's human nature to doubt things." He made a face. "Which is good, because given how idiotic most of this race is, we'd have died out long ago if a handful of our ancestors hadn't been smart enough to not immediately gobble down some bright red berries that ended up killing everyone who ate them."
Scott smiled faintly at the tangent. So like Stiles, but Scott could see through the deflection attempt and didn't rise to the bait. "Doubts are part of life. Remember Glen Capri?"
Stiles' step faltered and the expression that passed his face was an exaggerated grimace, but there was something deeply disturbed underneath that. "How could I forget? Worst few hours of my life, and I've had more sucky hours in my life than I care to remember or have time to recount."
Scott nodded. "I had my doubts when we were at Glen Capri. You never stopped believing in me. You talked sense into me. That didn't make the feelings go away as though nothing had happened, but..."
Scott looked at Stiles and stopped him from walking by standing right in front of him, only a foot of space between them. "You brought me back. And if you hadn't, neither of us would be standing here."
"Yeah," Stiles said after a moment's pause. "And if we'd been a minute or two late to arrive outside, what then? You'd have been dead and gone for good."
"But you didn't come out too late," Scott said. "That's what counts."
"Yeah, but that's exactly what I'm trying to tell you, Scott," Stiles said and gestured randomly in frustration. "We all have moments of desperation and doubt. Moments when we need friends and parents and lovers to bring us back from the brink. There's no way you can fight against all the fucked-up creatures out there and not need some time off to relax with your buddies. But there's always that question in the back of our minds, because I know Allison had her tough times too, about whether this time we'll be left alone for a little too long. Whether one of us ends up dropping the flare into the puddle of gasoline, on purpose or not."
Scott wanted to reach out to Stiles, and at any other time, might have done so, but there was something jumpy about Stiles' body language that told him that it would likely not be a smart thing to do. "I'm always there in spirit. I'd be there physically for either, for both of you, always and forever, if I could."
"Yeah. You would." Stiles sighed and raked a hand through his hair - a little longer than it had been the last time Scott had seen him, like he hadn't had time to get it cut lately. "That's not the issue."
"It's about feeling like you're not in control," Scott said slowly. "Or like your death is the only thing you could even influence anymore."
Stiles inclined his head in agreement.
"That's it, yeah. Tell me you haven't ever wondered whether we fucked up this place, or hell, most of the planet by just wanting to save our own parents from becoming human sacrifices to a crazy power-hungry darach." Stiles' expression grew colder, angrier, but the anger wasn't directed at Scott. "That us dying wouldn't put a stop to all this death and destruction and fighting we've been seeing on all the continents we've been to."
"It wouldn't," Scott said decisively. He had thought about that, yes. He knew better, but it wasn't so easy to dismiss such thinking patterns. "That wouldn't help matters any. We're the only ones who can really do anything to rein this in."
"See, this is where it gets so frustrating," Stiles said, annoyed. "It's so officious of us to think only we can do this. There's more than seven billion people on this planet. What can three kids do to save everyone in it from all kinds of nasties from a bunch of cultures whose legends they aren't even familiar with, even in passing? You're at least an Alpha wolf, but Allison's a hunter, basically just a human with kick-ass aim and technique in handling a bow and a crazy weapons arsenal at her disposal. Me? I was just a human with some sarcasm as my only line of defense, and let me tell you, sarcasm often doesn't translate well if you don't know the local language at all. In short: what the hell were we doing out there?"
Scott's gaze was steady and unwavering as he caught Stiles' eye. "What had to be done. Nothing more, nothing less."
