Chapter Text
Stiles knew he was different. He had been from birth, and it was really shitty when he found out that the other kids couldn't talk to the monsters under the bed. His mother had sat him down and told him that he was different, but in more ways than one.
She explained to him, amid her smiles and comfort, that Stiles wasn't just Noah and Claudias' baby. A very powerful being, some may call him the devil, had placed his magical essence into him when Claudia was pregnant, and he was to be his heir.
From the moment he was born till 6 years old, Stiles was tutored in every way possible. Not in his magic, but in schooling, books and smarts. He could read and write by one and a half and by six years old, he was well ahead of his classmates. He was working at 9th grade standards in 2nd grade much to the delights of his teachers.
His ADHD wasn't a neurological disorder, no sir, those were his built-in battle reflexes that had kept him alive for oh so long. His parents taught him until six because, after six, he would have to travel to Tartarus and train there for 5 years. It was originally 6 years, but when he turned 11, his mother got diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia, and she would die before the 6-year mark. So, Stiles Stillinski was found against all odds after 5 years, alive and intact, only for his mother to die a week later.
It seemed like fate detested the Stillinski family, and maybe they do, but now that he’s being hunted and nearly killed every other week he's really starting to wonder whos controlling this shitty ride he calls life.
***
When Scott had been bitten by a werewolf, Stiles first thought was ‘really, this shit again.’ And yeah, it seems like the fates really had it out for him because he has been hunting monsters for years, but these were not monsters that came from Tartaruses pit. The closest thing that they have to a Tartarus’ pit monster was Peter, but Stiles lets him off the hook quite frequently as, you know, he is still crazy after the whole coma thing. And also have you seen Peter's Kubrick stare? He must have mastered that shit at age 11.
Can you imagine Peter's mother being like, ‘honey, you need to crank the psychopath down to a 3 today, you're scaring all the kids off’
He tried to act human, he really did, and in his defence, the closest he ever came to being found out was when Deaton told him he had a ‘spark’. Deaton was wise, but he sure as hell wasn't as smart as Scott bigged him up to be.
But now that Scott's pack had merged with the Hale pack, all he was really waiting for was the call.
The call came on a Tuesday
That call was from his other father, Tartarus, explaining to him that he was poisoned by an incurable potion that poisoned his system and stopped his regeneration altogether, and even though the person who administered it was dead, he was still dying and that Stiles needed to come to him for the years heir training he missed before he died.
So Stiles was in a little bit of a pickle.
Because he needed to stage and execute a supernatural kidnapping in 72 hours.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Sure, he had an idea, but it's gonna cost him a whole lot of sleep.
And brain cells.
His main plan was to pay a witch to hastily come to town, make a ruckus, kidnap him then leave. Couldn't be that hard right? Yeah, well, it seems that nobody wants to kidnap him. Which he is mildly pissed about because when he doesn't want to be kidnapped he gets kidnapped but when he wants to be kidnapped he cant be.
But anywho, he finds someone to kidnap him.
Yay!
His name is Hunter and he is a hunter. Don't worry, he laughed too. But Hunter the hunter promised that he could fake him being kidnapped with no problem.
And he did.
He watched with a broken heart as Scott screamed his name and sunk to his knees, clutching the finger that Stiles had provided. He cut off his pinky finger on his left hand to make it more believable, but he couldn't look when even Peter was wiping unfallen tears from his eye.
***
Training to be heir was rigorous and tiring. He had to learn the etiquette, how to communicate with the monsters, host tea parties for said monsters, and never mind the magic and weapons training he went through. For 6 hours a day, he was working with demons, for 4 hours he was training in magic, for another 4 hours he was weapons training and for the remaining hours of the day he was sleeping. A lot.
Tartarus was deteriorating faster and faster, sometimes he even needed help standing up.
And when a year came, the final task Stiles was given was to kill his father
Tartarus had said that he was tired and just wanted to die.
So, he shoved a sword through his father's heart and watched with teary eyes as the life drained out of his fathers' body.
Immediately he felt the immense power that his father once held transfer to him, knocking him off of his feet. His blood felt like it was boiling inside his body, his skin only just able to contain the ravaging river of magic that was breaking down his control like it was paper.
His control never failed him, but the amount of power that had been thrown at him with minimal warning ripped that control apart, and it seemed like the magic that had control over him wanted to honour its previous host, because it buried Tartarus’ body, with no plaque to save him from any potential grave robbers. After it had lashed out and destroyed his fathers' chambers, it allowed Stiles to reign it in and control it.
Stiles knew that magic that had control over him was not good and he knew that his priority was restraining and training this magic he had been gifted. As soon as he had some sort of control over his magic he would announce his father's demise, and then he would deal with the riots that would come trying to take the throne. He estimated that it would take about 3 months to establish himself as the rightful leader, and after that, he would go to Olympus and introduce himself, then he would visit Camp half-blood and ensure all was well, then he would go back to Beacon Hills.
***
4 months later and the riots had finally stopped and the people had accepted Stiles as their leader. He had already made a clone of himself that he could mentally contact to rule over Tartarus while he was away, he had prepared all meetings for the next 6 months in order to leave with minimal resistance.
He had finally gained full control of his magic, and as a reward, his magic gifted him a physical manifestation of it. A familiar if you will. Cassandra took the shape of a 10 feet long Burmese Python most often, though sometimes decided to be helpful and become a horse. Though most would think that Cassandra is very heavy, she is magic, so she makes herself much lighter, which Stiles back thanks her for.
But now that he has full control of his magic he can just manipulate the darkness to take him to his desired place. Tartarus, being prothagos of the abyss and pit, had some major control over darkness, not as much as Nyx or Erebus, but pretty damn close. Logically thinking, all of Tartaruses magical essence, birthrights and some memories transferred to Stiles now, so he is Tartarus. He can feel everything on the surface of the pit, which is a very odd feeling. Like ants.
But it had been 4 months and he needed to announce himself as the new leader of Tartarus. Does that make him Tartarus 2.0?
He knows that news of his fathers' demise had not passed the entrance of the pit, so they may have felt the power shift, but they have no way of knowing what was undoubtedly going to shock them to their core, and personally, Stiles could not wait to see it.
***
For the Olympians, it was an average Thursday.
Everything was at peace, there was minimal arguing and there were no threats to their children.
That was until Stiles Stillinski walked in unannounced.
Heavy, almost sarcastic footsteps echoed through the deceivingly quiet halls of Olympus. Servants scattered out of fear of the man that was walking toward the throne room. Whispers followed him, drunk on his power - his aura. This man was powerful, even a blind man could tell.
Even the snake curled around his shoulders seemed more powerful than a lower god. The way its beady eyes stared into your soul, as if it was scanning for any deceit or anger it could whisper to its owner.
Whoever this person is, he is dangerous and the servants of the gods silently vowed to stay away.
Apart from one.
***
Stiles was not expecting to be approached. Mind you, Stiles didn't expect a lot of things.
He saw the exact moment the girl decided to approach him. Even with his back turned he saw the fire in her eyes and the self-confidence that oozed from her posture. He kept walking, egging her on, even though he’d decided then and there that he liked her, and he knew why. She reminds him of himself.
“ Sorry sir, but may I ask your name?” He turned and sure enough, there was the woman who reminded him so much of himself. She was tall, about 5’11; but not quite as tall as him. Her ebony hair cascaded down her back in delicate curls. Huh, he thought, her hair brings out her green eyes.
“Of course, not madame, my name is a polish mess, so please call me Stiles.” He chuckled at her curious eyes. Damn, those eyes. “What is your name?”
“Valeska, sir. Are you Polish? I was born there.” He gestured for her to keep walking with him, after all the throne room was a way away, and he wouldn't mind some company. She saw his eyes light up as he realised they were both Polish
“Yes miss Valeska” She shivered as the name rolled off his tongue,” My mother hailed from Poland. I trust you can keep a secret. My real name is Mieczyslaw” He saw Valeskas' eyes open in surprise
“Sword and glory huh, your mother must really love you.” She laughed easily, and god help Stiles he wanted to bottle that sound up and get drunk on it every night. Woah, hold your horses, you met her like five minutes ago. Reel it in.
“She sure did.” His eyes softened in remembrance of his mother, “ However, I do hope you are aware that I have decided I'm not letting you leave me.” Valeskas eyes sparkled
“I hold no objection to that, you seem cool”
And so, they spend the next 20 minutes conversing in Polish, getting to know each other before they reach the throne room. They both think it's entirely too soon.
“Valeska, I know we have known each other for very little time, but I want you to stand by my side, and know that even though I do what I do, I am not a bad man. I was born into it, and I had no control over what my father wanted.” Valeska looked at the man in front of her and spoke simply and to the point
“As long as you're not a serial killer, I'm fine with whatever you do. I do hope we come to fully trust each other during your time here, I do rather like you.” She smiled softly before brushing a piece of hair out of his eye before moving to stand beside him.
“Then we go in and scare the shit out of the gods” They both chuckle, then Stiles moves forward to push the doors open.
Suddenly, thirteen pairs of eyes were on him and Valeska.
“Who are you? You dare enter the room of the gods without permission?” Zeus boomed from his throne, looking entirely miffed with the audacity of the man who entered the throne room.
“In all fairness Zeus, I don't think you should be scolding me for entering places without permission, after all, that's what your reputation consists entirely of.” He said, sporting a smirk on his face. Call out the king of gods? Check. ”We are going to have a conversation about the Pit and its leader.” And while he did this, he conjured up 2 garden chairs and set them down on the edge of the semicircle of thrones. It was an entirely hilarious sight, with 11 golden thrones lavishly decorated and 2 garden chairs.
He noted that Hestia and Hades didn't have seats, so he conjured up two additional garden chairs and gestured for Hestia to sit beside Valeska and for Hades to sit beside him.
And so the meeting that changed the gods' world as they knew it began.