2Katsu_Kin0
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Summary
“Dude, you gotta admit, it’s weird. Like, really weird.”
“Stiles, it’s just a town. You need to lay off the YouTube conspiracy
videos.”Yes, Stiles had watched a lot of YouTube conspiracy videos this week.
However, unlike conspiracy theory nut-jobs, Stiles’ growing obsession
with the ghost town of Beacon Hills made perfect, logical sense.“Scott, I just found out that I was born there. Now I’m
supposed to accept that the place I was born doesn’t exist? Am I a
changeling?”“You need to lay off the horror movies, too.”
“You used to be fun.”
“You used to be sane.”
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Summary
Things take a different turn when someone else gets bitten after Scott.
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He is the last of the Born Wolves. His enemy is the Silver Cathedral of hunters and the secret weapon they are preparing for the last massacre—the Holy Saint.
The plan is simple: to kidnap the Holy Saint. The hunter’s secret weapon must be removed no matter what.
What is hidden under those veils? What lies deep within? Is it soft rivers of light, or the snapsnapsnap of madness?
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‘I have never given much thought to the afterlife,’ he admits, ‘and if there is one, I imagine I’ll go to hell. But recently, I’ve been thinking…that perhaps because I have died once, to evolve into my full wolf, that I was granted the chance to meet you.’
He holds Stiles’ hands, careful. Presses a lingering kiss to Stiles’ knuckles.
“You are my empyrean,” he breathes free, a wisp of a confession voiced aloud—it feels important to say out loud, into the world, even if his voice is barely there and cracking. “You are my afterlife. And I, for some reason, am blessed.”
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A tale of the monster who fell for the saint.
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Summary
After Dereks death shatters what remains of the pack, Peter is left with an unexpected responsibility. Eli barely understands how to deal with his grief before Peter is tugging him across the country in his redemption arc.
"Promise me you’ll take him to Stiles."
"You know you’re being dramatic. You aren't going to die.” Peter rolled his eyes at Derek.And what happens next? Derek dies.
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Summary
Stiles Stilinski is 22, freshly graduated, two weeks away from his first real job, and currently seventy-five percent drunk on Lydia’s bottles.
The objective for tonight is simple: get fucked up. Celebrate. Let the DJ do his job.The objective does not include a stranger at their booth with a vodka cranberry and a smile that makes Stiles’ knees go weak.
But then again, the best birthdays are the ones you didn’t plan.