#mal does moodboards

[threefiguresonyourheart]

A world without Peter is something that Stiles won’t tolerate.

[threefiguresonyourheart]

Crow AU

After the Argents burn down his world, Peter collects on a promise. aka what if The Crow had more werewolves and more gay? aka the in-progress fic I’ve been writing instead of my WIPs. --- (excerpt from chapter 1 draft) For one marked as he is, by his death and return, it’s easy to find. All Peter has to do is wish, so he does with all of his heart. He runs north, praying to the strange creature he’d found as a teenager. Runs until he receives an answer: the barest whiff of feathers, honeysuckle, and death. And soon, he crosses the invisible barrier into… Elsewhere.  The moon wavers in the sky above him, shifting through its phases as though time itself has no meaning here. When Peter reaches the rusted iron tracks where the crow makes his home, it settles into golden fullness. Here, in the heart of a demon’s lair, a sweet carrion scent overpowers him. Hot and rich. Life-giving.  Dimly, he’s aware of awful hunger. A gnawing pain that demands more and more attention as he breathes in the humid, blood-flavoured air, but there’s no time for that, not yet.  With the ashes of his family still in his mouth, Peter speaks the name. Stiles.

[threefiguresonyourheart]

aka that Steter AU where they solve crimes and do magic

[threefiguresonyourheart]

It happens every ten years. The town of Beacon Hills shuts its doors, but nothing can block the sound of wolves on the mountain, howling through the night.

When dawn breaks on the Day of Roses, each household checks their doors and windows, praying that there will be nothing, that their children will be passed over by the Beast.

This year, there are two roses: one white and one red.

Word spreads through the town like wildfire.

Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski are as good as dead.

-

Happy Halloween!

[threefiguresonyourheart]

The Garden of Tenderness

The Garden of Tenderness by Malapropian for @hotpinklizard. Complete. Rated T. WC 3.8k. Peter plays a long game. He can afford to, as the God of Death. Stiles, mortal beloved, has less luxury. To be loved is not to be safe. - Thank you for bidding on me in @fandomtrumpshate! And for giving me total freedom to write whatever I wanted! Apparently, that meant more necromancy and dark fantasy. I made the moodboard for Steter Week, but then I realized it would fit this fic perfectly. So here we are. I hope you enjoy the fic and the little bonus aesthetic. :)

[threefiguresonyourheart]

So Well Suited

So Well Suited by @bunnywest Stetopher. WIP. Rated E.

Chris and Peter run HA Menswear. Stiles works at Gamesworld. They strike up an agreement, sharing kitchen and bathroom access. Stiles would like to share more, but Hot Suit guys are a couple, so he knows it will never happen. Never. Right? - I’ve been making a lot of moodboards lately, but I had to make this one after seeing so many pictures of these three in suits. I hope you like it, Bunny!

[threefiguresonyourheart]

The Devourers

“Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we’ll never get used to it.” ~Richard Siken The Devourers by Malapropian. For @mia6363 Rated E. 2.6k words. Warnings apply. It’s the end of the world, but Peter can’t complain. Not when his days start and stop with Stiles.

[threefiguresonyourheart]

The Theory of Lost Things

The Theory of Lost Things by Malapropian Steter. Complete. Rated M.

Alone and forgotten, Stiles makes a deal: one favor in exchange for Peter's help. - If Peter puts his stained lips on Stiles, will he taste like summer or blood? “Would you like one, Stiles?” Peter holds out a perfect strawberry, the color dulled by its coating of sugar. Stiles loves strawberries. They’re one of his favorite fruits. He treasures the memories of his parents taking him to farms to pick their own, back before the drought. Now the farms are dust. The dying countryside is full of signs, all of them begging: Pray for rain. In this moment, he’s sure that even those farm strawberries can’t compare to the one in Peter’s hand. “Take it, Stiles,” Peter offers again. “You look hungry.”