*whispers* IT HAS A PSEUDO-SEQUEL. AAAHHHHH!
Fraternity prank wars. That is all you need to know.
“What?” Stiles peeked an eye open, sure he hadn’t heard right.
The claws hovered inches over his head and he flinched back.
“Are you the Witch Doctor of Beacon Hills??” the urgency in the monster’s voice nearly doubled at having to repeat itself.
“Uhm…” Stiles licked his lips and managed to relax slightly. “That’s a stupid name, and I’m still mad that Deaton left it with me, but…yes?”
The overly large sigh and sudden slumping startled him so bad that Stiles really couldn’t help the belated scream that left his mouth.
“I need your help.”
Derek blinked, his eyes slowly focusing as Stiles’ words sunk in. His confusion smoothed out into a smirk that was just shy of confident.
“When did I ever say you weren’t?” he asked, running the pad of his thumb along Stiles’ lower lip.
The question in itself was an obvious lie. They both knew well enough that if things continued down this path, Stiles would be beyond control and Derek would be close behind, hanging on by only a thread.
A/N: Obviously AU. Mostly Derek does the babysitting. Inspired by real life events. Slight crossdressing warning…
Derek set the remote control aside and leaned forward, fully expecting to be asked to help button up the kid’s pants.
Instead, Stiles came to a stop several feet away and leaned forward, pushing his pants down to his ankles. “Derek, look at my underwear.”
teen wolf/the 10th kingdom fusion/crossover
“You don’t trust nobody.”
“I don’t trust you, no.”
“Well, you may not get hurt, but huff puff, you won’t get loved either.”
Part 5 of 8
The smells coming from the village the odd trio (more than a trio, the dog statue held scents of life) had traveled to were nothing short of delicious.
As he slowly stepped out of the woods and into the sunlit clearing, Scott could easily see why their werewolf guide would have led them here. Acres upon acres of land surrounding the village were stocked with fat, well-kept sheep. No matter which pasture his eyes flitted to, large flocks were grazing, without a care in the world.
Scott’s mouth watered. His last meal had been yesterday morning — a rabbit he had managed to catch through desperation alone. He had meant to capture a songbird, but the thought of using the skills his now-dead family had taught him sent him into a feral despair.
They had always been so careful, traveling through the Queen’s Forest. They had always managed to avoid the watchful eye of Her Hunter. So why? Why now? What had caught the Hunter’s attention to alert her to their presence this time?
Guilt once again began to consume Scott. If he hadn’t been so curious about the travelers. If he hadn’t sought to follow them for a few hours after they snuck off, torn between dragging them back to camp to face their crime of releasing all his mother’s birds and begging the other werewolf to tell him more about the life he was now a part of.
In the end, cowardice had gotten the best of him, and he had gone back empty-handed.But rather than returning to his clan’s good-natured questioning and elbowing, he had found himself facing the overwhelming stench of blood and death.
There had been no survivors.
The beast had taken over, then. Scott could only remember bits and pieces of his journey as he mindlessly tracked down the travelers his family had last shown hospitality to. Even now, Scott could feel his humanity slipping away as he eyed the sheep and the shepherdesses that tended to them.
Derek had mentioned something about having an anchor when they talked, but Scott hadn’t been too concerned. His family was his anchor.
They were gone now, but the travelers, they would help him.
Derek said they were brothers. The father had smiled at him. Stiles shared his leftover hedgehog with him when he couldn’t eat anymore.
Mouth watering, Scott skirted along the edge of the trees, deciding to find them tonight, when the overwhelming smells died down enough for him to track them better. When the beast gave him room to think.
He didn’t realize the full moon waited for him just beyond the horizon.
« | »
A/N: This was pretty much inspired by cosplay!stiles at Wonder Con, his “Scott”, and Mama McCall having none of that shit.
“That is not my son,” Mrs. McCall stated after letting out a firm sigh that suggested whatever patience she had as a single mother of a teenage werewolf was growing thin. “That is a stuffed dog you’ve dressed to look like him.”
“No, Stiles! We don’t need your help! I have a plan!”
Stiles drew back, stung. Luckily, his panic at the moment was more prevalent than his hurt feelings, and his eyes flickered between Scott and Isaac.
“Really? Please tell me this isn’t anything like the plan you had when you were convinced your dad was going to send thugs to sneak into your house.” Yeah, Stiles was going there. “Remember how you thought the safest way to keep your key was to swallow it after locking up and pooping it right before going home?”
“I was twelve!”
“You were fourteen!” Stiles corrected, although he was pretty sure Scott was right. But that didn’t matter, because he was trying to make a point. “And guess what? Your plans really haven’t improved much since then! So you don’t get to tell me you don’t need my help! Because you and I both know that you do!”
“No, we don’t!” Scott argued, ignoring the hand Isaac had placed on his shoulder. Whether it was meant for support or to hold Scott back, Stiles had no idea. “Just stay here, alright? You’ll be safe here.”
Stiles’ mouth was normally quick with retorts, but not nearly fast enough as he stared at the two retreating forms dashing off into the night, leaving him behind next to his jeep.
Teen Wolf - STEREK AU - The Little Mermaid
In which Stiles is Ariel, and Derek is Prince Eric
“I consider myself a reasonable man,” the sheriff began, his fingers coming up to his forehead to rub away the oncoming headache. “I set certain rules, and I expect those rules to be obeyed.”
Stiles winced. “But, Dad, I—!”
His father plowed on. “Is it true you rescued a werewolf from drowning?”
Stiles sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Dad, I had to,” he pleaded, willing the sheriff to understand.
“Contact between the human world and the wyre world is strictly forbidden! Stiles, you know that!” The sheriff’s hand came down to point at his son. “Everyone knows that!”
Stiles’ hands spread out at his sides. “He would’ve died!”
“One less werewolf to worry about.”
The careless dismissal from his normally caring father caused something hot and furious to unravel in Stiles’ gut.
“You don’t even know him!” he argued, his voice rising.
“Know him?” the sheriff echoed, disbelieving. “I don’t have to know him! They’re all the same: Soulless, savage, mindless flesh-eaters, incapable of any feeling!”
Stiles couldn’t believe the bigotry his own father was spewing at him.
“Dad, I love him!” he snapped without thinking, his eyes immediately widening in shock at his own admission.
Fear clenched sharp in his stomach as he watched his dad’s face go slack with shock.
“No…” his dad whispered, head shaking as his senses came back to him. “Have you lost your senses completely?! He’s a werewolf! You’re a human!”
Stiles looked off to the side, his chin jutting out stubbornly. “I don’t care,” he admitted defiantly.
The sheriff’s own jaw clenched in anger. “So help me, Stiles, I am going to get through to you,” he gritted out. “And if this is the only way, so be it!”
AND THEN HE THREW AWAY ALL OF STILES’ WOLF MEMORABILIA AND STILES WAS SO BUTTHURT HE CRIED A THOUSAND TEARS.