“The place you give the Bite has meaning," Derek says. "Biting someone on the side is to make them your beta. It makes them your subordinate, but it also invites them into the pack with the full protection of the alpha. Biting someone on the legs indicates that you’re turning them to an omega. And biting someone on the arm, particularly the wrist, turns someone as your equal. It’s a mating ritual.”

Stiles nearly chokes on a mouthful of granola. “A what?”

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

"Pick a card--any card."

*

Card shark, magician, or descendant of Cassandra the Prophet:

No matter who or what Stiles Stilinski truly was, he was the only chance at the Hale Pack's survival.

Both Luke and Reid have lost the Christmas spirit - but a chance meeting changes things.

May the best pretend boyfriend win.

When a cute stranger asks Reid to help him out, he actually says yes.

Reid's having a really bad day when he comes to and realises he's been kidnapped. What makes it even worse is that Luke Snyder's been taken, too, and is currently standing in the cell next to his.

Reid's life is going absolutely fine. Just perfectly...fine.

And then Luke moves in next door.

It was only natural, Reid told himself. He'd helped an attractive young man through a rite of passage – his first one night stand with another guy. Reid had practically performed a public service. He felt a little smug about it, if he was honest, and even a little good about himself.

Of course it'd keep playing on his mind.

“Manning a covert outpost is a very important job,” Carter says.“It’s just until you heal up,” Steve says.“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Bucky says. (Words: 2767)
Part 5 of the snackfic series

He's a green spark. It's in his nature to nurture. And this… this nemeton, she needs him. He's never been so sure of anything in his life.

In which Bucky doesn't fall from the train, Steve has company when he wakes up in the twenty-first century, and neither of them knows how to talk about their feelings unless they're about to die. (Words: 4545)

What kind of an idiot would try to explain magic to a Vulcan.

When the call connects, Will says, “I know what kind of crazy I am, but I’m not this kind of crazy.”

“Will?” Dr. Lecter says.

“Yes, hi, sorry,” Will says. “It’s me. There’s a baby on my porch.”

The alpha crouches down until they’re level. He examines Stiles and something seems to click in his head. He says, before Stiles can ask any more questions, with a nod at Bunnicula, “Is that your Alpha Buddy?”

“His name’s Bunnicula,” Stiles says around a mouthful of pastry and sugar. Bunnicula is his constant companion, always stuffed in his backpack or hauled along with Stiles in his jacket pocket. Every square inch of him smells like Stiles, from his floppy ears to his velvety pink toe beans. Stiles is proud, especially ‘cause his mom told him that the more his Buddy smelled like him, the easier it would be for his alpha to keep track of it, because otherwise it would just smell like cotton and stuffing.

Stiles is months off from having his next heat but he likes the idea that even if he has to be alone during it, he would have Bunnicula with him. And Bunnicula would smell like his alpha, so it’ll be like having a little piece of them too.

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

In the months following his father’s death, Sam struggles to find his place in a world that’s taken everything, even his brother, away from him.

After a fight with an alpha from a rival pack, Stiles begins to turn. It doesn't go as expected.

“You’re quite the clever one, aren’t you?” Peter mused, voice like honey.

“I like to think so."

“What’s your name?”

“Stiles.”

Peter smiled slowly, looking like a cat that just caught the canary. “Well hello, Stiles,” he purred, eyes flashing a bloody red.

Stiles grinned victoriously. Viciously.

The hunt was on.

Peter Hale has a tension headache building behind his eyes, a nephew who has picked the wrong time to have a crisis of conscience, and a bound and gagged college freshman in the trunk of his car as he speeds north along Highway 101. This is not how he intended his weekend to go, but Peter is nothing if not adaptable.