werealldamned replied to your post:
@cruentusreus because you hurt me on the regular...
THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE ACTUAL SCENE. (which i only experienced through gif posts⌠)
THIS IS ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND PERCENT CARLOTAâS FAULT
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werealldamned replied to your post:
@cruentusreus because you hurt me on the regular...
THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE ACTUAL SCENE. (which i only experienced through gif posts⌠)
THIS IS ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND PERCENT CARLOTAâS FAULT
@cruentusreus because you hurt me on the regular
Time seems to slow down, the space between one heartbeat and the next a yawning chasm.Â
He thinks of Malia, a sickly, sticky warmth in his gut that he cannot focus on, or it will be his undoing. Heâs lived for family before, heâs nearly died for them, and all it got him was trapped in a prison of his own body.Â
His charred body. The dirt beneath the Hale house. Eichen. The train station. His life is littered with prisons, and his sole focus needs to be freedom. Getting away. Being safe.Â
âStall them.â
Heâs had the thought too many times in the last few hours. Riding the storm forever with you wouldnât be so bad. Whatâs a dingy train station, devoid of color and light, if the company is good?
Peter would have made it work. A prison is a prison is a prison. Stiles is a prison all his own. A prison made of flesh and blood and bone that Peter closed the door on with his own two hands.Â
But Malia is out there, and he canât spend eternity knowing that he failed her. The way Talia failed him.Â
Stiles is wearing his panic in fifty foot neon swathes. The words gather on the tip of his tongue. One last chance before he walks into the fire again.Â
Born wolves mate for life.Â
He smiles.Â
âUse your head.â
cruentusreus:
âYeah, wellâŚsome opinions matter.â Even if theyâre not his own.Â
He remembers all too clearly the look on Scottâs face when he thought Stiles had snapped and killed Donovan. That heâd slammed his wrench on that kidâs head over and over until heâd all but cracked it open.
He doesnât want to see that expression directed at him again.
âThe moment you base your decisions on emotion and not logic, youâre lost. Chasing someoneâs approval is always a losing game.â
Heâs speaking from experience. Loads of it. His mother. His sister. Derek.Â
âAnd your Alpha isnât exactly the best role model, now is he?â This conversation will be shut down fast. A loss of forward motion, just to take a pot shot.Â
âHe kills when it suits his agenda, he abandons when he feels like it, and heâs always got the moral high ground. Even when youâve only done what needs doing.â
cruentusreus:
Regardless.
ââŚThatâs not always a good thing.â Because they canât become the villains in the story. And Scott is still set on saving as many people as they can, and that usually means finding âanother wayâ.
âThatâs a matter of opinion.â
Peter Hale is not the villain in his own story, and he finds it trite and tiresome to be considered the villain in anyone elseâs. His life is his own, complicated by loss and choices and his own emotions.Â
Heâs not going to stand idly by.Â
make me choose from sipral:Â Peter&Stiles or Peter&Lydia
cruentusreus:
âBut I am afraid.â Stiles latches onto that tiny flaw in Peterâs reasoning like man desperate to drown in denial. And yeah, he realizes what heâs doing. But heâs not ready to see it any other way. Logical or not, it canât be true.Â
âThatâs me, thatâs my thing, alright? I live in a perpetual state of anxiety and mild tachycardia, which according to literally every other werewolf out there â it stinks something awful. SoâŚââ He nods. A sharp jerk of his head that might have just given him whiplash, but panic has never been all that kind to him or his motor functions.
So maybe get your nose checked and reconsider your options.
That is the tiniest, most inconsequential nitpick he has ever seen, Stiles.Â
"Not afraid to do whatâs right.â His correction comes with a lifted finger, and a haughty shake of his head that screams youâre better than this. âWhich is a turn of phrase, not an actual state of emotion.â
Heâs already worked up, whatâs another step forward?
âMeaning that...â Itâs a slow drawl, and he takes his time looking up and down the length of him.
âYou get things done. Regardless.â
cruentusreus:
âBecause it doesnât make sense!â He snarls. A lash of anger, sharp and quick as the rise of his heartbeat. That residual rage the Nogitsune left behind, that gives him no room to breathe.
Stilesâ hands curl into fists. Shake with the urge to hit, to scratch, to push Peter away. He wants to fight, he wants to run, his instinct is cutting the air off his brain and he just canât think.
âIt doesnât make sense.â
âIt makes perfect sense.â
Heâs unmoving, unchanged in the face of that rage. Stiles has come a long way from the cowering teenager in the parking garage. Heâs found those instincts inside of himself, and it warms the cockles of his cold black heart to see him finally fighting back.Â
Not that fighting back is going to do him any good.Â
âI need someone tactically inclined. Creative, but still pragmatic. Someone not afraid to do what needs to be done. Knowledgeable.â
cruentusreus:
Itâs not fair. And it shouldnât get under his skin like this.Â
But that terrible little voice in the back of his mind is doing a great job of pointing out that Peterâs telling the truth. That he weighs every option before getting involved. That, for all his games and misdirection, heâs never really lied to Stiles. Not about this.
âButâŚâwhy?â
âWill an itemized list actually make a difference in your thought process?â They both know the answer to that is a resounding no. Peter could line out his every saving grace, the things about him that make him stand above the rest of Beacon Hills, and it wouldnât change a thing.Â
Hate yourself enough and even the truth looks skewed to your eyes.Â
âYou know Iâm telling the truth. Just like you know youâre going to tuck tail and run any minute now, because God forbid something not fit your narrative.â
An escape, offered up easily and free of strings.Â
cruentusreus:
ââŚAnd the reward is really worth that risk?âÂ
Because this is what really bothers him. What he canât fathom. That Peter Hale would be so willing to wait him out, to play the long game on something like this. Because Stiles canât possibly be worth that.
That flicker of gaze, that moment of doubt, itâs a tick in the âWâ column. Heâs gotten beneath Stilesâ skin.Â
âWhen have you ever known me to risk my neck for something that wasnât worth it for me?â
Yes.Â
Heâs worth it.Â
cruentusreus:
So, basically, itâs either choose Peter or die unfulfilled. Apparently heâs got a lot to look forward to in life.Â
Peter could have left it at that. With the pack and the issues they keep sweeping under the rug. But he had to mention Derek. And the sting of the reminder is not enough to keep him from cutting right back.
âAnd you live out the rest of your days alone, with an unfinished game. Unfulfilled.â
Half the fun of this game is that he never lies to Stiles. Never. He may choose his truths carefully, he may display them in a way that works best for him, but they are always the truth.Â
And this is the truth. He made his choice, and he will see it through to the end, no matter what.Â
âNo risk, no reward.â
cruentusreus:
âYeah, but what if Iâm never ready?â Itâs less sharp, less barbed than he intended. Lost in his own twisted up thoughts and the reminder that Peter will probably outlive him anyway.
âYou could wait too long.â
âThen you die unfulfilled and relying on your idiot friend.âÂ
Itâs enough. The perfectly planned and executed potshot. If it were anyone else, his tongue would still. But itâs not anyone else.Â
Itâs Stiles.Â
âOr alternately, you die unfulfilled, waiting on voicemails and bi-annual visits to keep you warm at night.â
cruentusreus:
âYeah, so you keep saying.âÂ
He can feel his heartbeat rise, and his jaw clicks with annoyance. Because he knows Peter did it on purpose, and Stiles should really take up some meditation or breathing exercises at this point. Seriously, every. single. time!
âYou got anything less vague than in time? I should probably clear my schedule for this momentous occasion.â
âWhenever youâre ready.â
Thereâs something, some nebulous something like pressure against his sternum. If Peter thinks too hard about it, his throat tightens, and he canât breathe.Â
How could you forget about me?
âIâm a patient man, Stiles. And born wolves live a very long time.â
And what does it say about him that heâs content to wait like some heeled dog while his nephew runs through the wilds of the jungle without much more than a backwards glance?
cruentusreus:
âAnd youâre waiting on my say so to take what you want?â
Heâs actually considered it a few times. Too often, lately.Â
At best because thereâs something addicting about bouncing ideas off each other. And at his worst, because he knows he will not be so casually dismissed â and because for all his quips, Peter knows to take Stiles at his word when he suggests something a little more extreme.
How many lives could they have saved if they were willing to kill for this town?
Itâs the sort of poisonous thinking that actually scares him.Â
âBecause you respect me?â
âI wonât force you.â
That much should be obvious. No matter what color his eyes are, Peter is an Alpha. And someone with true power? They donât have to take.Â
âI donât have to.â
He doesnât even have to stalk forward. But he does, because he enjoys it. Who wouldnât like the way Stilesâ heartbeat kicks upwards every time he gets within armâs distance.Â
But there is no touch, hands loose at his sides.Â
âYouâll come around, in time.â
@cruentusreus ( x )
âRespect.â
The word is chosen carefully, offered up in dulcet tones. He knows what Stiles expects to hear, and what he wants to hear, and those two lines get further and further apart as time goes by.Â
It infuriates him. The more times he watches Stiles bend to Scottâs will, the more times he gives up instead of digging in, the more Peter wants to tear this idiotic, infantile pack apart with his bare hands.Â
âBecause I respect you.â
steter + text messages part three [part one] [part two]
âI donât wanna be like you.â