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fandomweekly2021-12-30 03:45 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2021-12-30 03:45 pm
Entry tags:
[#119] I Hear Your Heart Beat to the Beat of the Drum (Teen Wolf)
Theme Prompt: #119 - Heartbeat
Title: I Hear Your Heart Beat to the Beat of the Drum
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 981
Summary: Cora and Stiles find an uncomfortable entity in the woods.
“Listen, can you hear it?”
It’s a dumb question to ask a werewolf and Stiles knows it, but he asks it anyway, usually because he wants to draw Cora’s attention to something important. Almost as though he understands the overstimulation of too much from hyperactive senses, and how you need to focus when you need to find the right thing.
So she pauses, head tipping to the side as she tries to fine tune the overabundance of sounds, from the skittering of creatures in the woods to the steady heartbeat and breathing of the man next to her. “What am I—”
Before she can even get the question out, she hears it. Not just one heartbeat, but two. A loud and ominous thud-thud, thud-thud ripples through the ground, to where it feels like the sound is more in her head than it is in the world around her. A psychic call, more than an audible one. It would explain why Stiles could hear it too.
“Deaton said the curse is its own entity, right? That when a curse is this ancient, they can become more of a physical presence in the world?”
“Yeah,” Cora nods. “He thought it might be the most vulnerable part and if we destroy the body, we break the curse.”
“Would it be too literal for it to be an actual heart?”
Cora shrugs, considering, before following the steady thrum of the sound. It’s getting under her skin a little, an itch she can’t quite place, and she knows it wants her to go to it. And given that they’re looking for a curse that drives people insane by bringing out their inner demons, that’s not necessarily a good thing.
“We shouldn’t find it.”
“Cora, this’ll be easy. We find it; we kill it; we all go home for curly fries.” Cora shakes her head again, and he steps to the side, coming in front of her so that his concerned look is filling her vision. “It’s calling you, isn’t it?”
She nods slowly, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the spindly fingers encroaching on her mind. “We shouldn’t go there alone.”
“What does it want?”
“To not be alone.”
Maybe it’s not the same for everyone. Maybe it changes based on what the person may want or need. But the whispers in her mind are offering her a warm welcome, a steady embrace. The promise that she would never be left alone again. She remembers that yearning feeling she felt for years, missing her family, missing her pack, bouncing from pack to pack that would take her and feeling like she could never feel whole again.
She could never feel that way again. All she has to do is come. It wants her, after all.
“But you’re not alone anymore. You have Derek, Malia and Peter. You have a pack.”
“You have to be wanted around to have a pack.”
“We want you around.”
“Do you?” She arches an eyebrow curiously at that, because that’s not the impression she gets. Boyd wanted her. Derek and Peter do too. But the rest? That’s more up in the air.
Stiles shakes his head, taking her by the shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. “I want you around.”
Her eyes flicker up at him, and she tries not to look as pathetic as she feels. But as much as it’s a buoy in her favor, she doesn’t trust herself to move any closer. “Then don’t let me go there.” She knows what it feels like to lose control all too well. She doesn’t want it to happen again.
Stiles watches her, and his face softens, before nodding. “I’ll call Scott and Malia.” He leads them back to a large rock in the preserve's section and sits her down. “And we won’t move until it’s done.”
Cora nods as she sits, and once he settles next to her, she snakes her hand around his arm to take his hand. “Thank you.”
He squeezes her hand in response, and together, they settle in to wait.
* * * * * *
It takes an hour for the rest of the pack to track it down and end the living curse once and for all. She can tell the moment it happens—the spindle fingers attempting to draw her closer suddenly disappear and the thudding in her ears stops. She releases her hands as the tension leaves her, and she doesn’t miss the coppery burst of blood that comes from where her claws are digging into her palm.
Stiles' phone dings a moment later, and he confirms what she already knows. “It’s done. Let’s get out of here.”
Cora nods, slowly standing on shaky legs. Stiles walks them back towards the Jeep but before he can go too far, she stops, tugging on his hand to pull him back towards her.
“Thank you, Stiles. For listening to me.”
“Of course,” he nods, pulling her closer and letting one hand rest on her hip. “But I was serious, you know.”
“About what?”
“Wanting you around.” Stiles thumb brushes against her, as she’s forced to look up at him again, given how close they are. “Things are better when you’re around.”
Cora squints at him. “I’m threatening you with violence regularly.”
“Yeah, but you don’t mean it.” A beat. “Well, at least ninety percent of the time you don’t mean it.” She snorts, and he grins. “And maybe it says something about how screwed up I am, but I don’t think you’re terrible company, Cora Hale. And you’re not expendable. Not to me.”
Cora looks up at him before pushing up on her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, just slightly, but she doesn’t push things further. Instead, she steps back and continues to head towards the Jeep.
“C’mon. Curly fries on me.”
Title: I Hear Your Heart Beat to the Beat of the Drum
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 981
Summary: Cora and Stiles find an uncomfortable entity in the woods.
“Listen, can you hear it?”
It’s a dumb question to ask a werewolf and Stiles knows it, but he asks it anyway, usually because he wants to draw Cora’s attention to something important. Almost as though he understands the overstimulation of too much from hyperactive senses, and how you need to focus when you need to find the right thing.
So she pauses, head tipping to the side as she tries to fine tune the overabundance of sounds, from the skittering of creatures in the woods to the steady heartbeat and breathing of the man next to her. “What am I—”
Before she can even get the question out, she hears it. Not just one heartbeat, but two. A loud and ominous thud-thud, thud-thud ripples through the ground, to where it feels like the sound is more in her head than it is in the world around her. A psychic call, more than an audible one. It would explain why Stiles could hear it too.
“Deaton said the curse is its own entity, right? That when a curse is this ancient, they can become more of a physical presence in the world?”
“Yeah,” Cora nods. “He thought it might be the most vulnerable part and if we destroy the body, we break the curse.”
“Would it be too literal for it to be an actual heart?”
Cora shrugs, considering, before following the steady thrum of the sound. It’s getting under her skin a little, an itch she can’t quite place, and she knows it wants her to go to it. And given that they’re looking for a curse that drives people insane by bringing out their inner demons, that’s not necessarily a good thing.
“We shouldn’t find it.”
“Cora, this’ll be easy. We find it; we kill it; we all go home for curly fries.” Cora shakes her head again, and he steps to the side, coming in front of her so that his concerned look is filling her vision. “It’s calling you, isn’t it?”
She nods slowly, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the spindly fingers encroaching on her mind. “We shouldn’t go there alone.”
“What does it want?”
“To not be alone.”
Maybe it’s not the same for everyone. Maybe it changes based on what the person may want or need. But the whispers in her mind are offering her a warm welcome, a steady embrace. The promise that she would never be left alone again. She remembers that yearning feeling she felt for years, missing her family, missing her pack, bouncing from pack to pack that would take her and feeling like she could never feel whole again.
She could never feel that way again. All she has to do is come. It wants her, after all.
“But you’re not alone anymore. You have Derek, Malia and Peter. You have a pack.”
“You have to be wanted around to have a pack.”
“We want you around.”
“Do you?” She arches an eyebrow curiously at that, because that’s not the impression she gets. Boyd wanted her. Derek and Peter do too. But the rest? That’s more up in the air.
Stiles shakes his head, taking her by the shoulders and forcing her to look up at him. “I want you around.”
Her eyes flicker up at him, and she tries not to look as pathetic as she feels. But as much as it’s a buoy in her favor, she doesn’t trust herself to move any closer. “Then don’t let me go there.” She knows what it feels like to lose control all too well. She doesn’t want it to happen again.
Stiles watches her, and his face softens, before nodding. “I’ll call Scott and Malia.” He leads them back to a large rock in the preserve's section and sits her down. “And we won’t move until it’s done.”
Cora nods as she sits, and once he settles next to her, she snakes her hand around his arm to take his hand. “Thank you.”
He squeezes her hand in response, and together, they settle in to wait.
It takes an hour for the rest of the pack to track it down and end the living curse once and for all. She can tell the moment it happens—the spindle fingers attempting to draw her closer suddenly disappear and the thudding in her ears stops. She releases her hands as the tension leaves her, and she doesn’t miss the coppery burst of blood that comes from where her claws are digging into her palm.
Stiles' phone dings a moment later, and he confirms what she already knows. “It’s done. Let’s get out of here.”
Cora nods, slowly standing on shaky legs. Stiles walks them back towards the Jeep but before he can go too far, she stops, tugging on his hand to pull him back towards her.
“Thank you, Stiles. For listening to me.”
“Of course,” he nods, pulling her closer and letting one hand rest on her hip. “But I was serious, you know.”
“About what?”
“Wanting you around.” Stiles thumb brushes against her, as she’s forced to look up at him again, given how close they are. “Things are better when you’re around.”
Cora squints at him. “I’m threatening you with violence regularly.”
“Yeah, but you don’t mean it.” A beat. “Well, at least ninety percent of the time you don’t mean it.” She snorts, and he grins. “And maybe it says something about how screwed up I am, but I don’t think you’re terrible company, Cora Hale. And you’re not expendable. Not to me.”
Cora looks up at him before pushing up on her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, just slightly, but she doesn’t push things further. Instead, she steps back and continues to head towards the Jeep.
“C’mon. Curly fries on me.”