Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scydia/McMartin | Scott McCall x Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)
Requested by @wonderdoves & anonymous
"This place is…"
Scott can't even think of a word. He just gazes ahead of them in wonder and awe. For miles, all he can see is snow. A thick white blanket of it covering the entire path ahead, the roads, the cobblestoned buildings, the trees—god, even the trees feel like something out of a fairytale, with long, twisting branches that have a dusting of snow themselves. And it's still going, trying to make them part of the scenery, too.
"You'd think you'd never seen snow before," Lydia teases.
"I haven't—not like this! California's snow is nothing compared to this."
Lydia just smiles, a certain fondness in her eyes. She squints up at the sky, her nose wrinkling slightly, their suitcases dragging along through the snow behind them as they continue their way from the ferry port. Something else that Scott is admittedly still in amazement over; he'd never actually been on a ferry before.
It's just a good thing that the snow stopped long enough for them to actually reach Ireland, or else they'd have still been holed up in their cabin, stuck somewhere in the middle of the sea. Not the worst scenario he can think of, to be fair. But he's glad, nonetheless, because this is so much better.
"I don't know," Lydia says. "I think I prefer the warm winters. I'm just hoping that Gran and Nana make their hot chocolate like they used to when I was younger, I'm telling you, it's the best thing ever."
Scott smiles, finally looking at Lydia as they come to a stop outside a two-storey, cobbled house with a gate around the garden. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her nose a pale pink. Snowflakes have clung to her green hat, along the shoulders of her matching green coat, and to her eyelashes. There's a gleam of pure excitement and joy beneath them as she stares at the house.
When she takes a deep breath, it returns like a puff of smoke. Scott gently squeezes her hand and holds it up in his own, bringing her gloved knuckles to his lips.
"You look nervous," he tells her softly.
"A little," Lydia says, nodding. "Only because I haven't been here since I was… nine? And there's so much to tell them. I mean, I know my mom filled them in on pretty much everything, but still."
Scott nods as well, saying, "I know. It's a lot. But it'll be okay."
"Yeah, of course," Lydia agrees. Her smile seems a little more confident as she gives another nod.
They walk through the gate, into the garden that Scott's now seeing is teeming with things; empty plant pots, kids toys, an overturned bicycle. Even the stones of the house are more interesting than he had initially realized, with bright murals painted across the whole front of the house.
As soon as they enter the house, the door closing behind them, they're hit with unexplainable warmth. And the shouting and giggling of kids that whiz past them, nearly knocking them off their feet.
"I forgot how loud it gets here," Lydia says, but she's laughing. Scott can see it in her eyes as she looks around the entrance hall, beautifully decorated with lengths of tinsel, and handcrafted baubles hanging from the ceiling.
Framed pictures line the walls up the stairs as far as he can. The closest one, hanging by the bottom of the stairs, has a familiar little girl, giving her biggest smile to the camera beside a young woman with a striking resemblance.
"Is this you?" Scott asks, his smile wide.
Lydia looks at the photo. "Oh god, yeah. I think that was when I was, like… six? I came up here every Christmas and New Year before my parents divorced. That's my gran."
"You look like her," Scott tells her, and he can hear the joyful skip of heart, hear it in her proud little hum of agreement.
"Well, maybe without some of the grey hair," a voice says from behind them.
They both turn around, and Lydia's face lights up. She's already squealing and dropping her suitcase and Scott's hand.
"Gran!" Lydia practically flies at her, hugging her tightly.
Her gran laughs, caught by surprise but only for a second, wrapping her up in her arms. "I've missed you too, Ariel!"
"Haven't heard that name in a while," someone else says, with a distinctively more Irish accent, but still holding the same fond, overjoyed tone.
Scott looks at the woman who appears at their side from the room behind Lydia and her gran. He recognizes her instantly from all the photos.
Maddy places a hand on Lorraine's shoulder as she and Lydia pull apart. Lydia looks on the verge of tears as she buries herself into Maddy's open embrace as well for a second, both laughing now.
"And you…" Lorraine looks over Scott with a smile and a gleam in her eyes. A certain kind of knowing. "... You're Scott McCall."
Scott returns her smile and nods. "I am. I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. Martin."
"Yeah, I know a thing or two about you as well," Lorraine tells him, and he knows.
He knows she isn't just talking about him and Lydia being together, but about everything. The deadpool. She knew who he was and what he was going to be before he even hit ten.
For a moment, his worries from the ferry come back. Not all supernatural creatures are a fan of each other, and with the destruction that werewolves have a history of causing, banshees can't be that fond of them. And especially with everything that's happened to Lydia.
But then her smile grows and she says, "I'm glad to finally meet you! And, please, call me Lorraine. This is my wife, Maddy."
"So, this is the little wolf that got your heart, huh?" Maddy jokes to Lydia, an arm around her shoulders.
Lydia looks at Scott. She bites her bottom lip through her smile, and her eyes are saying everything.
She nods and softly says, "Yeah. He is."
"Then you're more than welcome here," Lorraine says.
Relief starts to lift the weight off of Scott's shoulders and chest. The warm, welcoming atmosphere is hard to resist, and he's already feeling at home.
-
Lydia was right. The hot chocolate is one of the best things he's ever had. Creamy and overflowing with marshmallows with a candy cane to stir it around. Not to mention the plate of cookies. He has never had a gingerbread man that tastes this good.
It's already dark outside, the sun having set an hour or two after they arrived. They already changed into warmer, more comfortable clothes, and settled in front of the fireplace in the living room to get rid of the chill from the snow. Lorraine and Maddy insisted. Didn't want them getting sick, and ignoring their protests about not being able to actually get sick.
"Your cousins don't look like they're having a good time," Scott comments quietly, watching the half-asleep couple sitting in the corner.
"They have five kids, all under the age of ten," Lydia replies. "I think the only thing they can feel right now is exhausted."
Scott snorts. He looks around the room. He's met nearly everyone on this side of the family by now. Every cousin, second cousin, aunts, uncles. The kids that Lorraine and Maddy took in have been especially eager to meet him.
His attention is drawn back to the little boy sitting cross-legged in front of him. He's only nine.
Scott wasn't expecting it when Lorraine and Maddy told him that around ten years ago, another banshee had found them. She was only nineteen and had no one and no idea what was going on with her. They took her in, Lorraine helped her. And from then, it's like their home was its own supernatural beacon, but for kids who had nowhere else to go.
Sean, the little boy currently sneaking another gingerbread man from the plate, is a werewolf. His family, his pack, were hunted down when he was four. Lorraine felt it coming. She and Maddy found Sean.
There's a little yelp and Sean clutches his hand. Scott catches a glimpse of tiny claws where nails should be.
"Can I…?" he asks, holding out a hand.
Sean hesitates, but he glances at Lydia, who smiles and nods encouragingly, then back at Scott. He slowly gives him his hand, palm up.
"I don't know how to control it…" Sean mutters, looking down sheepishly.
Scott inspects where the small trickle of blood is coming from. Three little lines where his claws accidentally caught his skin in passing.
Shaking his head, Scott speaks gently, and draws on the pain in Sean's hand. "It's okay. You're still learning."
"Yeah, it's actually harder for born wolves," Lydia chimes in, nodding convincingly when Sean lifts his eyes to her with curiosity. "You'd think it was the other way around, but one of our friends—he was born a werewolf."
"And he didn't learn until he was sixteen," Scott tells him. "It just takes time."
"And knowing what keeps you grounded," Lydia adds. "Your anchor."
Sean looks at Scott. "Do you have an anchor?"
Scott nods. "I do. I had to learn to let me be my own anchor, but when that doesn't work for me, I focus on all the people I love. My mom, my best friend, my pack."
He glances at Lydia only to find her already gazing at him with the softest smile, her cheek leaning against her shoulder. She places a kiss to his shoulder, her hand resting on her arm for a second.
"You just need to find something that makes you feel more in control," Scott finishes, turning back to Sean. "Even if it's an emotion."
Sean nods slowly. His expression is one of deep thought, trying to work to figure out what his own anchor could be.
"Now, you should go clean this up," Scott says. "Just run it under warm water with some soap, okay? It might sting a little, but just ask Lorraine or Maddy if they have any antibiotic cream, and then put a bandage on it."
"Are you a doctor?" Sean asks.
"No," Scott can't help but grin as he says, "I'm just a vet."
That answer only seems to confuse Sean. But he gets up and hurries off to go do what Scott instructed.
When Scott turns back, Lydia's still watching him. She has this look on her face, a thoughtful glaze in her eyes and a certain kind of smile that he can't read.
Chuckling, Scott asks, "What is it?"
She lets a beat pass. She shakes her head, takes a slow breath in, then looks over at the window instead.
"It's still snowing. Do you wanna sit in the garden? There's a nice bench out back."
Scott's eyebrows furrow a little, but he stands with her, following her to the back door from the kitchen. Stepping outside is like what he'd imagine stepping into a walk-in freezer would feel like.
But the cold biting at his skin is unimportant. The awe hits him all over again as he takes in the sight of the garden, feeling like he just stepped into a fairytale instead. Everywhere he looks, everything is white and sparkling. From the entire ground, to the gazebo at the end of the garden.
Somehow, in amidst it all, there are flowers. Whole roses and everything, snow dusting across their dark red petals.
"This is…" Scott breathes out, his eyes wide, "... I don't even know what this is. This place doesn't feel real."
Lydia laughs gently. She wraps her arms around her and nods, looking around as the snow falls around them.
"Yeah, it does feel kind of… magical."
"We could actually make a snowman," Scott continues. "Or have a real snowball fight. Are snow angels things that people actually do?"
Lydia's eyebrows are raised when he looks back at her, and she's shaking her head. But she's got a smile that stretches to the corners of her eyes and he can feel emotions radiating off of her.
"You are so dorky." She moves closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "And I love you."
Scott smiles. His voice is soft and giving away all of the fondness he feels for her when he says, "And I love you."
She leans in, her head tilting. Her lips are soft against his. He pulls her a little closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. The cold and even the snow is easier to ignore.
Lydia pulls back, her hands lingering on his shoulders. Scott doesn't let go at all.
"I'm really glad you're here with me," Lydia tells him. "And my whole family now loves you, so that's a nice bonus. I think you even made a friend."
Scott grins, shrugging. "Your family is great, and I am… beyond relieved that they like me. And, I think with Sean, it's a werewolf thing."
"Oh, no." Lydia shakes her head firmly. "Maybe that's a small part of it, the whole Alpha thing and all, but all of the kids in there love you."
They pull apart. Lydia sits down on the bench. Scott follows, and can't help but start piling the snow from the arm of the bench into a ball in his hand.
"You were amazing with Sean," Lydia comments, glancing at him. She's doing the same thing with the snow on her side.
Scott shrugs again. "I just told him the same as I told Liam. And Alec. It's how I wish I could have been introduced to all of this. With someone reassuring me that it would be okay."
Lydia nods in a shared understanding. Neither of their starts in the supernatural word were exactly pleasant or comforting. Scott's only sorry that Lydia was brought into it the way she was.
She rests a hand on top of his, curling her fingers beneath his palm. She squeezes gently.
He knows that she can tell what he's thinking. Sometimes he worries that banshees have the ability to read minds as well. But the look she gives him and her hand there with his draws his thoughts away from the past. Everything is okay. It's better than okay.
"It's amazing what your gran and nana have done, though," Scott says. "Taking in supernatural kids who have nowhere else to go."
"Yeah, it's like a little foster home, but… for werewolves, banshees, and everything else," Lydia jokes, but her smile is sincere. "It's a really good thing they're doing. The kids are so happy here."
"I can see why," Scott says, gazing back out across the garden. The snow has the sky practically glowing, in no way looking like it's dark enough to be night.
There's a slight pressure against his hand from Lydia's fingers, moving slowly.
"Do you… do you think that's something you'd ever want to do?" Lydia asks, careful with her words.
Scott looks back at her. She's watching him again, with curious eyes. His heart drops many beats.
"Wait, are you—?" he starts to ask, but Lydia's eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head.
"No!" she hastens to answer. "No, I'm not! I just meant… you know, in general, is it—is it something that you can see for the future? Not necessarily the foster home part, but… you know."
She chews her bottom lip. Scott takes it in, letting the question process. After a moment, a smile curves the corners of his mouth up.
"Imagine, the first werewolf-banshee hybrid," he says.
"That can't have been done before," Lydia agrees, a laugh to her voice. "I wonder if one side would skip them, or if we'd be creating a whole new species."
Scott actually does laugh now, and Lydia joins him. His stomach is buzzing with butterflies or bees, he can't tell.
When they both go quiet, Scott slowly nods. He lifts his eyes to meet Lydia's.
"I like the sound of that," he says softly. "Whether it be a werewolf-banshee hybrid, or even an orphaned werewolf with nobody else… yeah. It's something I see for the future."
Lydia takes in a deep breath. She presses her lips together as her smile threatens to take over her entire face. She just nods, and breathes out slowly.
"Good to know," she says. "I do too, for the record."
"Okay, that's great," Scott says, grinning from ear to ear.
Lydia hums in agreement. Then the ball of snow that she'd been forming hits him square in the chest.
It's safe to say that it is freezing. The snow instantly seeps through his Christmas jumper, melting into his skin. He gasps while Lydia laughs behind her hands, hee eyes wide.
"You said you wanted a snowball fight…" she reminds him.
Scott nods. "You're absolutely right. I did."
The ball of snow in his own hand hits Lydia. She gasps, snow sticking to her jumper as well now.
"Oh my god, so cold!" she exclaims. "Why is that so cold?!"
"Because it's real snow," Scott says, his excitement quickly returning.
Lydia looks at him, her eyes narrowing. A familiar, competitive smirk forms on both their faces.
"Game on," she says.
Next second, they're trying to dodge out of the other's way, snowballs flying across the garden. There are gasps and shouts and laughter when they successfully land a shot.
Maybe it's a little unfair that Scott taps into his heightened abilities to move faster. But the advantage doesn't stop Lydia from managing to sneak up on him and tackle him into the snow. It's so deep that they sink a few inches into it, laughing until their sides and faces ache, and neither of them actually win, both claiming they did. But they end up just lying there in the freezing snow, curled into each other, staring up at the night sky.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Let me set the stage. The year is 2014, a friend of mine has successfully not just convinced me to watch this cartoon but also introduced me to the baffling concept that wait in this fandom, selfcest exists and is like vaguely popular? I was delighted!
So this story took off after 02x06 Identity Crisis, when Danny’s ghost and human side were split in canon. Phantom started to develop more of an on personality in Danny’s mind, a comforting presence, but they were now two souls trapped in one body. And, here’s where my memory fails me a bit on the “how?” but somehow, they would manage to split into two separate bodies, one full ghost, one full human.
The endgame was that they get married and adopt and raise Dani together, like on the very long run. And yes, long, because this was supposed to be a rewrite of the entire consequent show post 02x06.
And though I only ever got three pages written, the document has remained in my folder for those past six years, because I did make notes on the changes I had planned throughout the show and I guess that a part of me remained hopeful that hey, just maybe once I rewatch the show, I’ll get back into it and actually finish it.
(...man I really hope the vase metaphor makes sense. I had, still have, a very clear visual picture of what I meant with that xD”) But here, have a snippet:
--
It had started out how everything that ended in chaos, catastrophes and crisis in his life had always started. With one of his parents' inventions. Of course it did, it had to.
The Fenton Ghost Catcher.
The first time he became they. Splitting one person into two different, separate beings.
Sometimes Danny wondered if Sam and Tucker truly believed that going through the catcher again (and again because the second time had failed in the most confusing and weird way. Which was saying a lot considering the first time) would simply fix things again? Make them one again?
How could it? It had created two separate entities. Splitting his personality.
Phantom had explained it to Danny the first time he had asked what this meant, how this was possible. Right after the two of them had gone through the catcher to 'fix things', just to notice that Danny wasn't alone in his mind anymore. That he was hearing a voice, a voice he wasn't controlling, one that spoke to him. Another mind inside his head. Phantom's mind.
Now, Phantom had explained it with a metaphor. He had described them as a vase – which was weird for Danny, but he had gone with it and listened patiently anyway. A white vase. Danny Fenton was the vase and when he had gone into the ghost portal for the first time, one half of that white vase had been painted black. Creating Danny Phantom. Now that vase was facing society with its white side, everyone who walked past it saw a white vase. If someone came and just spun the vase around once, everyone who would walk past that vase would see a black vase. Just like when Danny would 'go ghost', turning human Danny into ghost Danny.
Going through the Fenton Ghost Catcher was like breaking the vase, a clear cut right in the middle. But it was more than just breaking the vase, it was like fixing each half with a flat part to close it, creating two working vases that coexisted. Going through the Ghost Catcher again didn't just put the vase back into its original form though, it just took the two fixed-up vases and glued the flat sides together. It looked like one, whole vase again and they couldn't stand beside one another anymore, but the water one poured into the white half wouldn't fill the black half. They were still two different vases, just now stuck together again.
And so were Danny and Phantom now. Two minds forced back into one head. And just like the vase, the half turned to the front was the half 'in charge'. When the black half of the vase was turned to the front, filled with water and holding the flowers, that was when Danny would go ghost from now on. Giving the reins over to Phantom, who took charge of their body.
Danny was a freaking vase.
It gave him a headache, really, so he decided to just nod and agree. They had been split and they couldn't be put back together to one, he got it that far. At first, that annoyed and scared him. Because there was that constant, nagging voice – Phantom had a lot to complain and it distracted Danny from the actual situation he was in, causing Mister Lancer, his parents and his friends to scold him for spacing out. What scared him however was the essential question.
Was he still himself? Had the split taken part of his personality away from him, given it to Phantom? Was he still the person he thought he was? But no one noticed a change in him. Where Tucker had claimed the human Danny to be 'fun Danny' before, now he and everyone else seemed to see Danny as just Danny. But that had only unsettled him even more.
If nothing of his personality was missing, then what exactly was Phantom?
“I'm not you. We're not split anymore. We're both separate people now, Danny. Why can't you wrap our head around that? I explained it often enough by now”, complained Phantom's voice annoyed.
Because it was strange and weird and confusing, really. Wouldn't that mean they weren't the ones who had come out of the Catcher after all? Because Danny wasn't so careless and uninterested in saving lives anymore, he was back to his overly worried and self-sacrificing self. And Phantom had finally stopped with his stupid alliterations, he still spoke a little high-and-mighty and seemed more intelligent than Danny though (if Danny was being honest, which he didn't like, because seriously, he wasn't even the cleverest person in his own mind anymore. How was that fair?).
“We evened out. Like the vases. I don't feel like you truly grasp the metaphor, do you? I've really tried putting it simple for you, Danny. We were fixed, like the two halves of the vase. Being glued together again changed our dynamic once more, just like breaking us apart had. We were two extremes – the heroic ghost and the carefree human. Now you're as much a complete person as I am, even though we have been split from the same. I am still the hero and protector of Amity, but it's not the only interest I have anymore. Just like you have concerns for other things aside from fun”, replied Phantom, sounding bored. “However, we adjusted differently. Not evening out to be exact copies of one another. Now we're two different people.”
Two different people, but stuck in one mind.
“You're not happy with that, I gathered as much”, sighed Phantom.
“It's not that”, muttered Danny beneath his breath, knowing it wasn't necessary for him to talk out loud, but very much feeling like this was important enough to be properly discussed. “I... like having you around. But it's just... draining. And confusing. I think Jazz is that short of stuffing us into a straight-jacket, you know? I'm worried about that. And it's depressing that I'm the only one who can hear you when we talk, which did lead to the whole Jazz wanting us in a straight-jacket thing to begin with. And sometimes I just... want you there, like physically there, when I talk with Tuck and Sam, because you're like the only one who really understand me, you know? Like, they can be really stubborn and they don't get me, but I know you would and you would be able to explain stuff in a way they'd get it too, because you're just better at those things...”
In Danny's mind, he could picture Phantom grinning at that. If Phantom would be here now, he so would be rolling his eyes and grinning, Danny just knew it. And it irritated him that he couldn't see it. But the Ghost Catcher was broken, had been broken a couple days ago. And there was no other way either of them could think of to separate them.
--
Send me a document title from my WIP folder and ask me about it! If I can, I’ll provide a snippet!
I followed you based on your icon alone 😅 but i was searching for your explanation of what happened in s3 of siren and couldn't really find a direct answer?
Lol well, thank you for the follow and here's a link to my most comprehensive siren rant. I've got a couple more but this one sums up all of my emotions regarding what that show did
gilmore girls band au??? I'm screaming omg tell me more
so last year when i wasn’t writing at all and was also really into gilmore girls but like just a very particular era I had this fic in my head, I wrote down lots of ideas and thought about it a lot but I got nowhere close to writing but also i think maybe one day I will come back to it. I'm not gonna put any lines from it bc they all sucked and didn't make sense, but it was like a s2 au-ish thing where rory, jess, lane & paris start a band. heavy on trans guy!jess bc I love him, there is bi!rory and bi ace!lane and lesbian!paris and bi!jess as well and it was gonna be queer as shit and mostly just them hanging out and also I couldn't figure out who’s pov i wanted it to be from lmao
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i didn't send the last ask, but yeah since they're making one of the new villains of the season Scarecrow (as if trigon didn't accomplish the same thing of characterization through fears) and taking the team to Gotham for no reason they probably will still hold back Joker.... they might try to do an RH through him???
... weak.
not to mention with them introducing Babs we're going to get a whole new level of Kory backlash carried over from the comics shipper drama (and racists)
oh, i get what you’re saying. if they use scarecrow instead of the joker, i’m not totally against it. but it sounds so good that i don't actually see the writers doing it. as for the incoming ship war, i’m 100% out of that. i’m not a die-hard dickkory shipper, so as long as people don’t disrespect anna in any way possible we should be fine. i swear to god i will leave this fandom if they bring any of that nonsense over here lol.
