To save the kingdom from a curse of unending winter, Derek is sent by his king to retrieve the mythical Firebird of legend—who turns out to be less of a mythical creature and more of a probable criminal who has no interest in being retrieved by anyone for anything.
Derek finds a young man injured in a ravine on the border of his ranch. That’s strange enough, but the mystery only deepens when the young man wakes up without any memory of what he was doing out there.
"I’m sorry, I believe there’s something wrong with my hearing,” Stiles said. “Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me.”
Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn’t misheard a damn thing.
After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.
Months later, there’s an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won’t last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott’s brother.
In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.
Of course, the transfer kid gets mentioned because transfers are rare, but the news isn’t that exciting. In fact, according to Laura, no one even seems to know his first name. The only thing anyone has really figured out about him is that he’s American. And that’s not exactly hard because he obviously has an accent.
The only thing Derek really knows is that, despite other reports, he seems quiet enough, prefers to work alone, and has the most amazing shade of amber eyes that Derek has ever seen.
Not that he’s looking. Obviously.
OR: A Harry Potter AU where Stiles is a Slytherin transfer student and Derek is the grumpy Gryffindor who falls in love with him.
There are also potions, elves, and falcons involved. Oh, and illegal use of magic. Obviously.
They are on the phone, in a heated debate about whether or not they should bother continuing Sleepy Hollow (Derek argues the show makes no sense, Stiles argues that’s what makes it brilliant) when Stiles suddenly shouts “WE DID IT!” and then hangs up.
Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.
Or at least he is until Derek decides he’s moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.
Scott slows to a jog as he sees Derek upright and moving, but Stiles keeps running hard. He slides to his knees on the dirt and moss next to Derek and grabs at his shirt.
“Der?” he asks, over-loud and panicky. He’s oblivious to the gore around them, even though he’s kneeling in it. His hands flutter over Derek’s shoulder where the bite is already healing, patting his chest and face like touch is the only thing that will assure him Derek’s truly in one piece. “Derek, are you okay? Talk to me, say something, please.”
Derek’s not sure what to do with all this unexpected attention, and fights the urge to brush the probing hands away. He’s taken worse in fights before, which Stiles must know. Though, he supposes, they’re something different to each other now.
After years of assuming Stiles would never want more than his friendship, Derek is pleasantly surprised to be drawn into an intense relationship with him. Being with Stiles is good, great even. But then why, exactly, does it feel like they’re more distant than ever?
Derek comes to him in irregular patterns, three days in a row and then gone for another four, always wearing the same clothes and smelling of saltwater and the wind. They kiss and make love and they talk about everything and nothing, like it doesn’t really matter that Derek’s a supernatural creature, as if they’re just two people in love. Stiles doesn’t ask what Derek’s life in the sea is like. Derek doesn’t ask when Stiles’s vacation will end.
There’s a boy exiting the doors as they approach. Where Derek is tan from hours outside, the boy is pale except for a few beauty marks on one cheek. He’s dressed in fine riding clothes, and flanked by a guard wearing the sign of the royal house. A noble, then. He’s younger than Derek, but, considering his higher station, a bow would be appropriate. Despite that, Derek can’t help looking curiously at the boy, who’s looking back at Derek with just as much interest. For a moment, their eyes meet - the boy’s are a deep amber in the sunlit courtyard, ringed by long, tawny lashes.
A gloved hand smacks the back of Derek’s head and he instinctively flinches away, hunching his shoulders. He loses track of the other boy as they pass one another, and as he turns to get another look, the knight grabs his shoulder and marches him forward into the stable.
“Keep your eyes to yourself,” the knight instructs. “And next time, show the proper respect to Crown Prince Stiles.”
Or: A medieval AU that’s a little Princess Bride, a little bit more Game of Thrones, and a healthy side-serving of gay erotica.
Hm, for a prompt, how about Lardo coming out as some kind of queer to the team?
Lardo thinks they’re joking. She hopes they are, because if Ransom and Holster are being serious right now, Lardo’s gonna have to address the fact that her best friends are morons. Sure, Lardo’s never explicitly stated her sexuality; she’s not really sure what it is herself, other than not straight. She thought that much was obvious. And now Camilla’s looking at her like she’s not sure what’s going on, and Lardo had been so cool earlier and managed to bring her hot date back to her place and these guys are going to ruin it for her.
“See?” Holster is saying, waving his hand dramatically at the girls. “Chicks cuddle on the couch all the time bro, and they’ve got the closest friendships.”
Lardo winces a little at the word ‘friendship’ and Camilla just shakes her head, hiding a smile. Thank God she already knows the guys through Jack, or she might start to think Lardo has bad taste in friends.
“What more do you want from me, man?” Ransom asks, hands thrown up in desperation. “We’ve already started taking communal naps.”
Throughout this, Lardo and Camilla sit stock still on the couch, hoping if they don’t move, neither of the guys will notice Lardo’s unbuttoned shirt, Camilla’s hiked-up skirt. The haus was supposed to be empty, damnit.
“I’m just saying, if we wanna win the championship this year, we gotta up our d-man chemistry. Lardo and Cams are already hella tight. What’s your secret, Lards?”
Lardo looks at Camilla, asking a silent question. Camilla shrugs and nods.
“We’re dating,” Lardo answers simply. It feels good to say.
Holster’s face does a complicated series of expressions and Ransom looks like he’s trying not to react but failing pretty hard at it.
“Oh no. Oh man, are we totally cockblocking you right now?” Holster asks, moving towards his bag in small backwards steps.
“Box-blocking, dude,” Ransom corrects, tossing his own backpack over his shoulder. “We’ll be in the library for an hour… studying and stuff.”
“Make it two,” Lardo shouts to their hastily retreating backs.
Like, really, i’m drawing 24 hours per day, even when i’m on the bathroom (probably when im sleeping too). On papers, on the walls, on people’s faces and on the bus, literally everywhere, everytime, i think i have an obcession
And i think my hand is just tired, because i cant hold the pencil