"Loving the monsters always ends badly for the human. It's a rule"
Kisa Petrova finds herself being tortured day after day for over 30 years, what happens after she meets a certain werecoyote that too doesn't know how to be human?
Let's add a vampir...
Walls have ears Doors have eyes Trees have voices Beasts tell lies Beware the rain Beware the snow Beware the man You think you know
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Stiles looked around his room with a frown on his face, his eyes darting from one picture to the other, the red string connecting one thing to another, but something wasn't right.
Something was missing.
Falling back on his bed, the man couldn't help but put his hands over his eyes, allowing the darkness to give him some comfort as he tried to calm down his mind.
It was tiring... to be an overthinker, sometimes he would have the worst headaches, other times he would imagine unreal scenarios - his what if-situations had taken so much of his peace already.
What if mom was still alive? What if I was never born? Maybe dad would be happier, yeah, he seems so tired nowadays... so lonely... it did get better when Kisa got here though.
What if Lydia had corresponded his feelings? It felt surreal thinking about it now, he wasn't even sure he liked her at a point or if it was solemnly attraction. What if he was actually coordinated and could play something instead of standing in the bench every yeah?
What if Scott had never turned into a werewolf? What if they had never entered this supernatural mess? What if he had never met Mal? Kisa?
His head and his chest heart.
Sometimes he just wanted to turn it off, just for a second, a minute if it wasn't too much to ask, but it seems like it was and he didn't have his wish granted.
So when a sound, that he was pretty sure it was his door breaking down, assaulted his ears, Stiles quickly jumped from his bed, his eyes quickly darting around, looking everywhere and nowhere, trying to asses wherever the hell was happening this time.
Spotting his wooden bat, he rolled over his bed, ready to take it, only for his foot to get tangled in his blanket, sending him face down on the ground - so much for his ninja abilities...
Stiles looked at the sky, which was actually his ceiling, cursing whatever divine entity was there for making him so easy to kill. Whoever it was, they did have their favorites and Stiles just wasn't one.
He was certain of it.
"Why do you hate me so much?" Stilinski grumbled to himself, slowly pushing himself up as he finally, after much work, got to his beloved bat.
