He dreams. He burns, always. He reaches for relief from the flames. (There is a boy.) Steter Week 2017 - November 29: Soulmates, Mates, and Anchors AU - By far the favorites of the theme suggestions, here is where lasting, deep, and abiding love and need come into play. What causes Stiles to become Peter's Anchor? When did they find out they are each other's soulmates? Are mating bites your favorite thing ever? Give us your spin on these awesome tropes!

The AU where Stiles' life is a Lifetime movie, but with more peace lilies. A short and smutty feel-good story.

The AU where Stiles is an old trickster-just not the one you're thinking of.

It was always meant to be Stiles and Peter. Always.

The AU where Peter is a devilishly handsome Viking and Stiles is his beloved.

Peter Hale, back from the dead twice-over, is not the uncle Derek or Cora remembers. There's a reason for that.

A monster lives under Stiles' bed. There's another one in the closet. The whole situation would be a lot scarier if they didn't bicker so much.

"It's funny. It is. It's abso-fucking-lutely hilarious because this is the seventh time in a calendar year that Stiles has been on the run from a bloodthirsty monster and the thing that still trips him up-quite literally-is that he still hasn't gotten any better at running through the woods." An AU where everything he loves gets buried in the dirt, so Stiles rips apart the space-time continuum.

(NO TRANSLATIONS) Stiles yelps and shakes his hand. The ash stays where it is. Well, no, it moves across his palm! Stiles wipes at it with his other hand, forgoing the whole getting-it-in-the-bottle thing and sticking to the get-it-off-me thing. Only the ash doesnt get off. Stiles watches with growing horror as the ash moved up his palm to his wrist, and the burning gets worse. "Ow," he breathes, wincing and staring. The ash moves on its own, growing a shape at the inside of his wrist. Three spirals, one on top and two on the bottom. "What the fuck, what the fuck, ow!"

(NO TRANSLATIONS) The man looked up when Stiles stepped into the room, eyes appraisingly taking Stiles in from head to toe before smirking. "Hello, sweetheart." Stiles felt his heart jump into his mouth, his breath hitching in his throat. The orderly hadn't stayed long, leaving the two of them alone. "Peter." He breathed. "You're real." tag warnings: mental instability, non-con elements, psychotic break, mental deficiency, unreliable narrator, ableism, grooming