Summary: In which Stiles refuses to leave his house because of some lousy superstitious myth. Of course, as always, he ends up being correct.
I don't know where this came from. I don't usually write humour, so this is new to me. Just something I came up with with while listening to music in my room, like right now. Disclaimer: I own Teen Wolf... Just kidding, I own nothing except the plot.
Just a Myth
Third Person
'Come on, Stiles! We're going to be late for school!"
'Don't care!'
Scott puffed in frustration, while Isaac idly stood aside, smirking at his pathetic attempt of making Stiles get school. 'Why don't you just grab him and haul him out? Do I have to remind you of your wolf-y powers?' Isaac asked incredulously, mocking Scott. Scott's eyes flashed red, warning Isaac to shut up. Isaac huffed, clearly annoyed that he had gone all alpha on him, but besides that stayed quiet. That didn't stop him from smirking though.
'Stiles, there's pizza in the cafeteria today!'
'Don't care!' 'We have free period during Chemistry!'
'Don't care!'
'Lydia is going!'
'...'
Scott growled dangerously, his patience with Stiles wearing out quickly. Isaac just rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Well, looks like it was his turn now.
'Look, Stiles, nothing is going to happen to you...'
'I am friend's with multiple werewolves, a girl who predicts death, a hunter who tracks down the supernatural and Miss. Thunder Fox!'
'Let me rephrase, nothing bad is going to happen to you...'
'No, let me rephrase, Isaac. I am surrounded by bombs that are right now ticking and waiting to implode! Specifically today!'
Isaac's chest rumbled and he was no longer chilling against the frame of Stiles' bedroom door. He was in a deadly crouch, claws extended, ready to attack, and fangs dangerously hanging from Isaac's upper jaw. His eyes flashed a bright amber, pure fury swirling. Scott rested his arm on Isaac's shoulder and shook his head. Isaac whimpered, but froze in his place. It was Scott's turn to deal with the mess which was called Stlies.
'Come on, dude. It just a stupid myth people made up! It's not true.' That was the wrong thing to say.
'Just a myth!' Stiles let out a slight crazed laugh. 'Just a myth! You know what else is a myth? Werewolves! Banshee's! Bloody Kitsunes! For all you know, every single myth in the world could be true!'
Scott snarled at Stiles, his patience long gone. He stomped into Stiles room, tugged him out of the safety of his covers and lifted Stiles over his shoulder, growling under his breath. Stiles screamed and yelled, furiously kicking Scott and punching him in the back, while Isaac watched in surprise how Scott carried Stiles as if he was a rag doll. It was rather amusing to see Stiles go completely bonkers.
As Stiles was carried out to the street, he managed to elbow Scott in the gut, who instantly dropped Stiles. Stiles scrambled up and turned around and was about to run back into his safe house, but Isaac stood right there, blocking his path. Isaac tsk'ed in mock disappointment, and was about to say something, however something prevented him from doing so. This something being a cyclist crashing straight into Stiles' Jeep. Scott and Isaac gaped, shocked at how the man had crashed into the over-sized car, but Stiles just pointed acussingly at them.
'See?! I told you! Bad things happen on Friday the Thirteenth!'