#peter hale

[puppyloveandpredators]

[coralchaoseagle]

Day 469 of posting first Ian Bohen Pinterest recommended photo.

[nimuetheseawitch]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @sunmontuewrites and @halestrom! Amusingly enough, I actually wrote something this week, so you get all 500 brand new words of it.

Peter waited until most of the Pack was lounging on the couches and floor of the loft before slinking down the spiral staircase to join them, as always. Sometimes it still made Scott flinch, even after all these years, and Peter had to get his kicks where he could.

After smirking at Scott's attempt to hide his surprise at his sudden presence, Peter let his nose sort through all the scents in the room, adding it to what he'd heard as they wandered in to make a picture of how the Pack had changed since their last meeting. He could tell that Scott thought he was in love again (he stank of a new perfume and puppy love), that Malia had spent most of the week as a coyote and was grumpy about having to wear clothes again (she smelled like the Preserve and sweat and annoyance), and that Jackson was fighting with Danny again (gym sweat, frustration, and self-loathing alongside a distinct lack of Armani). Nothing of note.

He was just starting to relax when the loft door opened and the scents of Stiles and his nephew wafted in. Underneath their usual mix of domestic bliss was a warm note that he hadn't smelled in over a decade, and it froze him in his tracks. Peter's mind rushed back to a warm kitchen filled with joy and laughter and the memory of 2 year old Derek asking, in his toddler vocabulary, why his mother smelled different. But the memory of Talia's voice quickly pivoted to what he always heard when he let himself remember her: the way she'd been screaming in his final moments of consciousness as fire engulfed their family.

A loud crack knocked him out of that memory, and he looked down to see the edge of the short bookshelf he'd been leaning on splintered by his claws. Peter schooled his face as he looked up, knowing the rest of the Pack would be focused on him. Decisively, he freed his claws from the wood, nodded at Derek, and said the only thing he could think of as he walked out of the loft as fast as he could without making more of a scene, "Congratulations, mazel tov! I need to be somewhere else."

Grateful that the Pack was used to his abrupt departures, Peter made his way deep into the Preserve before letting out a mournful howl. It still bothered him that the Pack would hear him and know his pain, but he had no desire to go far enough away to not be heard. He spent the night remembering and hurting and mourning, knowing that he had to leave it all out here. His nephew needed him, now more than ever. Peter hadn't ever been the nurturing type, but he was the only one who'd been an adult last time there'd been cubs in the Hale Pack, and someone was going to have to make sure Derek and Stiles were ready for a newborn werewolf.

Tagging @spurious

[inkandgasoline]

WIP Wednesday!

So Stay Close, Ch. 17: Power Move

"It’s an HONOR being a Hale,” Peter spits. “You might think I don’t deserve that house—this town—but whatever you think of me, at least I understand the weight of our name. And maybe it’s too little, too late, but I for one won’t be the weak link that leaves our family in ruin.”  “Since when do you give a shit about this family?” Derek snaps back. “You left first, and they told you not to come back. And Laura—” He bites off the string of words that tangles, venomous, from his tongue. “You know, fine,” Peter concedes, holding up his gloved hands. “Fine. I admit, I didn’t approach our initial contact with tact—especially with how things went down between us, and for that I apologize. But I don’t want you as my enemy, Derek. What I don’t think you yet understand is how much you and I really do have in common—despite our differing feelings on our family home.” Derek barks a hot laugh. “Right.” But Peter is dead serious, taking another step forward, reaching his hand out for the handle of the car door. Derek tenses but doesn’t move from his blockade, keeping his eyes locked with Peter’s. “I know what it’s like to be a little brother, Derek,” he says almost softly, almost kindly. “You and I, we’re prodigal sons. Wayward. Returned home with scars, and shame. But we’re here now—both of us—and we have the opportunity to do better this time around.” Peter hooks his finger around the handle of the car door and it pops open slightly, bumping up against Derek’s hip. And despite himself—in some automatic, thoughtless move—Derek steps back out of the way. “And better is what I intend to do,” Peter continues, his voice still velvet soft, “whether or not you decide to join me. It’s time for us both to step beyond their shadows; my brother’s, your sister’s. Which—if I remember correctly—is exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it?” Derek loses control of his body. It's instantaneous. In one sudden move, he turns, grabbing the collar of Peter’s coat with both hands, and slams him back up against the Corvette. Peter grunts through a half-smile at the impact, strands of his hair moving at the jagged breaths tearing out of Derek’s chest. He straightens under Derek's grip until they're eye-to-eye. His shoulders are narrower than Derek’s, his frame smaller, but his eyes are sharp like ice picks and no matter how hard Derek looks, he can find no fear in them. All he sees is Peter mirroring him, searching for weak spots, and the light that flickers on in the oceanic depths when he finds it. “Take a hit,” Peter almost whispers. “And I get everything I want.” The invitation is quiet, calm confidence laid overtop a challenge, a threat. I know your secret, he's saying. I know about the will. And for one long moment that holds a lifetime’s weight of hatred and rage and shame, Derek considers how easy it would be—how worth it—to throw everything he has left away with a single punch. Peter’s ghost smile ticks upward into a smirk as Derek unlocks his shaking grip from his coat, his heart beating like a prisoner against the bars of his ribcage. Derek takes one step back, and then another, as Peter stands to his full height, smooths out his coat, and opens the car door. He says it with self-righteous conviction: “The roots of our family are buried deep in this town, Derek. You belong here—you know it in your blood, even if you won’t admit it to me, or anyone else. You’ll come around. And if you don’t…” Peter smiles, shrugs, and slides down into the car, leaving the door open. “Well, then you best get out of my way.” The Corvette growls to life and the door slams shut, the black tint of the window glass a dark pool of Derek’s own reflection—his shoulders heaving, fists knotted at his sides, a wild look tattooed across his face. Then the car jolts forward and roars out of the parking garage, sending vibrations up through the floor and adding to the chaos in Derek’s skull.

How can you NOT have some good, nasty family drama with these two??

Writing Peter has been one of the biggest challenges of this fic, because he's primarily written from Derek's perspective--which is incredibly biased and bitter. It's been hard to give Peter implied nuance and complexity when Derek himself refuses to see it.

But maybe he'll come around. Maybe.

Also, one of the biggest changes I made to canon (besides, you know... no werewolves) is that Peter's sibling was Derek's father, not his mother. Derek's relationship with his father was always a big thing I wanted to explore and it just made more sense to me. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

[desirofmoony]

thinking about it but season 1 peter hale had every right to be mad lol

[sorilovesthiam]

preg!theo having peter all clingy and taking care of him cuz theo is a son to him and he is so happy abt be a grandpa

[coralchaoseagle]

Day 468 of posting first Ian Bohen Pinterest recommended photo.

[stetervault]

Yo what uppp, I have been struggling to find this fic that i read a while ago and was wondering if you could help?

It’s a Stiles/Peter/Christopher fic and it was set in a different time period? or maybe just alternate world and in beacon hills there is a conflict between the werewolves and the Argents/werewolf hunters.

Possibly the most relevant information is the fact that Stiles is a sphinx!! He has like metal wings? sometimes?and he damages them flying through the area and he has to hunker down for a few weeks and in that time he adopts some wolves and he ends up staying there.

It’s for sure on ao3, has multi-chapters.

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills - Guede - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]