Word: Grabble
...
"You've come to the wrong town, boys. I'm giving you a choice here: leave and return when you've got permission to be in Beacon Hills, or fight me for your right to be here."
The Alpha's growl was enough of an answer, red eyes narrowed at being challenged by a human. Stiles just smirked in response. He grabbled in his bag, his eyes closed as he tried to feel around for the elusive object. He grinned and opened his eyes as his fingers brushed against what he was looking for. His eyes and hands glowed white as he pulled the long wooden staff out of his bag. (He didn't care that Scott said he looked like Mary Poppins, Stiles thought he looked like a wizard, and that's all that mattered.)
"All right, you've chosen your game. Now select your player," Stiles said, smirking.
He was freaking Neo, Rafiki, and Bruce Lee rolled into one right now, and he wasn't going down without one of the most epic fights in history.
The werewolves didn't seem to be as threatened by him as they should be, the Alpha moving forward with an angry snarl. He was able to stop the Alpha with his staff, hands glowing to help increase his strength, and as the wood was deemed un-freaking-breakable by Deaton himself, he didn't have to worry about the staff warping at all. Stiles pushed the Alpha back just enough to get an arm up in the air, a circle of mountain ash appearing around them. Now it was a fair fight: one Alpha werewolf versus one emissary-in-training with the victor the last one was standing. Fight!
The Alpha realised it was trapped and growled. The sound started low, a feeling rising until it let out a roar worthy of an Alpha. Stiles just grinned as the sound reverberated through the preserve's forest. Yeah, he realised that the nogitsune had kind of fucked him up, because he now got off on that fucking sound. It was a sound of helplessness, not power, and he knew just how to bring it all the way back down again. He let out a laugh that held even more weight than the Alpha's roar.
Outside of the circle, the other three wolves in this Alpha's pack were making a cacophony of noise, growls and whimpers to whines and snarls. Stiles didn't care. He had all of his focus on the Alpha, and that's all that mattered.
"My pack's going to be here soon, so let's get this started, big guy," Stiles said, nodding his head for the Alpha to attack again.
The Alpha barely waited for Stiles to finish talking, as if he thought he could be distracted by such a simplistic tactic. He'd been training with the McCall pack for five-odd years now, and something so routine as that wasn't going to do a thing to someone like Stiles. He batted the wolf away with his staff, his lip curling up in to a smirk when it hit against the mountain ash barrier with a bright flash of light. It was Stiles' turn for attack now, and just because this Alpha fought like a newborn cub, he wasn't going to hold back.
Moving forward, Stiles' eyes glowed again and in his mind's eye he imagined the wolf being in excruciating pain. He touched his staff to the wolf's side and it immediately started writhing, yelping and growling, trying to bite its own leg.
"Stiles!" Scott roared from behind him.
Lazy smirk on his face, Stiles turned on his heel and leaned against his staff. "Yeah, boss?"
"Let him go. They're just passing through."
"They didn't get permission," Stiles replied, head cocked to the side as he watched Scott.
"Stiles is right. We've made it obvious who the forest belongs to, Scott, and everyone knows to seek permission before crossing through another's land while shifted," Derek said, his voice clear enough for everyone to hear over the Alpha's whimpering.
"Stiles, undo the spell on the Alpha," Scott said firmly.
"Sure thing, boss," Stiles said, hitting his staff on the forest floor with a cracking sound.
Behind him the wolf panted fiercely, a low menacing growl reverberating low in its throat. Stiles ignored the wolf now that his pack had arrived and stepped forward, sweeping the mountain ash away with the toe of his sneakers. Scott and Derek started walking down the small hill to start the traditional greeting process that the wolf had ignored. There was a howl from Isaac, distracting Scott for a moment as he answered in kind. Behind Stiles, the wolf's noise got louder and it leapt for him, snarling in pure rage now. Derek responded before Scott or Stiles could, running forward, moving Stiles out of harm's way, claws formed and plunged deep into the Alpha's stomach immediately. As soon as their link was broken with their pack leader, the other three wolves left the preserve as fast as possible, tails between their legs.
Stiles stood up and brushed himself off, sighing when he saw what had happened. He could smell the blood, watched as it dripped off of Derek's wrist slowly, and turned to Scott with a smirk as he felt Derek's Alpha powers return.
"Should've let me deal with them," Stiles sing-songed, his smirk twisting into something feral.
Derek dropped the lifeless wolf to the floor and moved over to Stiles fluidly. Before Scott could stop them, Stiles had bared his neck and submitted to Derek as Alpha. Derek didn't hesitate, lowering his mouth and biting him to accept his submission.
Scott's eyes widened as he felt his control over Stiles lessening, and he fumbled for his phone to call Deaton. This was never meant to happen. They had all seen that Stiles had changed after the nogitsune and could never again be the same. His power as a spark grew so overwhelmingly fast that it looked like it was killing him, so Scott and Deaton decided that he needed to be controlled. Deaton had held Stiles down, making him submit to Scott as his Alpha. Stiles hadn't been happy, but Scott thought he would forgive him after everything they had been through together. It had been a necessary evil in order to keep Stiles and his power as a spark under control.
"You really thought you could keep me under your control, Scotty? I'm not a monster to be kept on a leash," Stiles snarled.
Deaton's phone rang out, and Scott dropped his phone to the ground, turning and running. Behind him, Stiles just laughed and Derek ran after him. Scott ran into Isaac, the other wolf grabbing him and heading to a trail that had his thick scent on it. Isaac hid with Scott in the overhanging over the forest trees (Stiles probably would've compared them to the hobbits hiding in The Lord of the Rings), keeping his body covering Scott's until they both heard Derek run past.
"What happened?" Isaac asked softly, sitting up.
"They... they killed them, and Stiles... Oh, god. Stiles, he's... he submitted to Derek. Derek's an Alpha again," Scott whispered, horrified.
"You mean it worked?" Isaac asked, grinning brightly. "Sorry, Scott. I love you like a brother, but Derek... Derek's always been my Alpha," he said, stepping out from the overhanging roots and letting a howl loose.
Scott's eyes widened and he ran. He kept running even after he broke free of the preserve, heading for the veterinary clinic to Deaton. He would be able to help. Scott stopped short on seeing the flashing lights outside of his work, and right on cue, a stretcher was wheeled out with a body bag on top of it. He could smell Deaton and the blood, hear the animals going berserk inside the clinic, and Scott's stomach turned. The medics wheeling the stretcher looked pale and were bloody, as if they'd been forced to step in multiple pools of blood before they could reach the body. Scott was so focused on Deaton that he didn't hear Derek come up to him until his hand was placed on his shoulder firmly. He paled, looking up at the other Alpha in pure fear.
"Was... was this you?" Scott asked, swallowing visibly.
Derek nodded. "Deaton would have been in Stiles' way, and we couldn't have that."
"In Stiles' way?"
"Of course. What do you think he's been planning ever since you caged him without his consent? The crazy thing is he probably would've submitted if you asked, but you forced it on him, Scott. You took away his choice in a way the nogitsune never had. The nogitsune controlled him for less than a month, and you've had Stiles under yours for three years. Do you see the problem with that, Scott?"
"It was for his own protection! He wasn't safe with his powers like that! He couldn't leave Beacon Hills, not like that. His powers were..."
"Being controlled. He had finally worked out how to get them under control the day he went to see you and Deaton; I bet you never knew that, did you?" Derek asked, shaking his head.
"He... he never said."
"Because you never let him. You didn't think it was weird how easily his powers came to him the day after he was forced to submit to you? Deaton even said it was remarkable how fast it had been controlled."
"I didn't think... I mean, Deaton said it was my power as True Alpha..."
"Obviously not, Scotty," Stiles said from behind them, grinning.
Isaac stood behind him, looking awed at what Stiles and Derek had achieved. Before Scott could try to run (why had he let himself be distracted? Why hadn't he run away already?), Stiles stepped forward and placed a lei of mistletoe-thread and wolfsbane flowers around his neck, the purple flowers stark against his white shirt. Scott felt himself growing weak, unable to control anything, and he would have fallen to his knees if it wasn't for Derek's hand on his shoulder. Scott looked to Isaac for help, but he was still under his Alpha's thrall and couldn't help even if he wanted to.
"This can be really simple, Scott; you either submit and suffer through your own controlling collar until I decide otherwise, or we kill you," Stiles said, his voice firm and eyes cold. "Don't look so down, Scotty. It's not that bad. The collar will just keep your power under control, it will keep you safe, it will keep you in Beacon Hills. Just like you did with me. C'mon, you can be my pet, and we'll have such great fun. I'll even tell you riddles. In fact, I've got one for you now," Stiles said, his grin twisting into something that not even the nogitsune could pull off.
"The maker makes it, but does not use it.
The buyer buys it, but does not need it.
The one who does need it doesn't know it.
What is it?"
Scott didn't know the answer, but he had a very bad feeling that if he gave Stiles the wrong reply, he would find out first-hand.
...
End of word challenge.
Thanks for reading!
(The answer is coffin)
