Stiles is a Mikaelson(Rewritten)

Chapter 48

Previously on

Stiles is a Mikaelson

Stiles's Pov

I groaned. "Oh my God, we're never getting this out of the carpet."

Damon clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Welcome to quarantine, babe. This is our life now."

I turned to him, deadpan. "You're cleaning it up."

Damon smirked. "Nah. I think you got this."

I lunged at him, and he laughed, ducking out of the way.

Meanwhile, Asher climbed onto his bed, looked at all of us, and announced:

"I AM GLITTER NINJA."

And suddenly, I realized—

This lockdown was going to be absolute hell.

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Stiles's Pov

I hate glitter.

I have always hated glitter. It's the herpes of the arts and crafts world—gets everywhere, impossible to get rid of, and no matter how many times you think you've cleaned it up, you haven't. Months later, you'll be minding your own business when—bam—there it is, taunting you from some random corner of the house.

And now?

Now, my entire existence is glitter.

I stared at the triplets, at my three chaotic little monsters, covered head to toe in gold sparkles, and let out the longest, most exhausted sigh of my life. It had been six days of lockdown. Six days of being trapped inside with three toddlers who had the energy of a thousand caffeinated squirrels, and somehow, I had not considered the possibility of glitter-based warfare.

That was my mistake.

"Okay," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to breathe. "New rule. No more glitter. Ever."

Cayley gasped, horrified. "Daddy, no!"

Henry blinked up at me. "But it's pretty."

Asher grinned, flexing his fingers like he was about to throw a handful of the cursed sparkles at me. "Glitter ninja attack!"

I dodged just in time as he flung a fistful of the stuff straight at my face.

Damon, the traitor, cackled in the doorway. "Oh, this is beautiful."

I shot him a glare. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Damon smirked, completely unbothered, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. "Oh, absolutely. I mean, you're the one who wanted to do 'all the fun, creative activities' with the kids."

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face, which now had glitter on it because of course it did. "I meant coloring. Finger painting. Not glitter-based chemical warfare."

Cayley, still deeply offended, stomped her tiny foot. "It was a potion!"

"It was a mess," I corrected, surveying the damage. "How did this even happen?"

Cayley huffed, crossing her arms. "I mixed the fairy dust"—she gestured dramatically to the horrifying amount of glitter—"with magic potion water"—she pointed to an empty juice box—"and then I shook it really hard and said the magic words!"

Damon's lips twitched. "And then?"

Cayley threw her hands up. "Then it went BOOM!"

I took a slow, steady breath, trying to find my center before I lost my damn mind. "Okay. New question. Where did you even find all this glitter?"