Fait Accompli, Stiles, Peter Hale, 1/1
Jan. 3rd, 2014 04:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mangacat201Title: Fait Accompli
Author: Mangacat(201)
Pairing/Characters: Stiles, Peter Hale
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 810
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, that honor falls to MTV and Jeff Davies, I just play in the sandbox without looking for profit.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in S1-Finale
Summary: What if Peter asked, but did not care about the answer?
A/N: So, even though it’s officially way too late to hand in a bingo on time for the deadline, I still decided I wanted to have a line for the amnesty post. So this is for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hc_bingo square: ‘bites’, in the one fandom where that prompt fits like a fist to the eyesocket (as we Germans say). For technical reasons (meaning I had half an hour to write this) this actually turned out to be less than there is of the story, so maybe I can get my ass up and write some more, we'll see.
Mirror on AO3
Since his best friend got himself accidentally mixed up in the supernatural world behind the world that has since surpassed even Stiles’ grand imagination, he has had a lot of frightening experiences by way of being a reluctant mentor to an even more reluctant werewolf. He’s faced off against Scott’s moonlit rage, coldblooded hunters that are watching their every move and injured sourwolves, who had been all the more dangerous for being weak like a kitten. And if he thinks about it, running and screaming as every sensible person in a similar situation would have done, has figured way too little in the whole equation. So he’s either much braver or much more batshit insane than he had the chance to find out before – or maybe it’s both really. So that establishes that Stiles is not actually a wuss in the face of a supernatural adversary that could rip him apart in the air just like that.
But face to face with Peter Hale, the Alpha, the lingering, nebulous threat that hung over them all year turned flesh and piercing eyes in front of him – that turns out to scare him shitless beyond his wildest dreams. The quiet, subversive tone of the Alphas voice creates the illusion of calm and choice, like he would prefer his henchmen willing and subservient, but Stiles doesn’t even believe for a second that he has even got the slightest shred of power left in this scenario. He is but a very small cog in the Big Plan and if he refuses to turn in the right direction, something is going to damn well make him. That is why being offered the bite as a reward surprises him so much. The offer sounds honest, curious, like for him to weigh the consequence and join the pack. Choose the power.
That is precisely what enrages him though, the insinuation that he, as a lowly human wouldn’t be able to play the game in his own merit. That is what gives him the courage to pull his hand away and defy the Alpha even on something so incidental that he seems to have thrown it out on a whim.
And for a moment, he sees something like respect flash in the Alphas eyes, a hesitation, then another sliver of that curiosity, like he keeps defying expectations every step of the way. Stiles almost lets out the breath he’s been holding since he finished his rant about why he wouldn’t want the bite and swallows convulsively when Peter smiles and tells him how he’s lying.
He’s not … and he is.
He wants companionship, not to be left out of the odd circle of friends. He wants to not feel helpless against the power of those primal beings. But he also does not want to lose himself, succumb to instincts and urges that aren’t his to control. There are always two sides of the coin.
Peter hasn’t moved, still smiles like a shark and Stiles wishes for nothing more than to break the tension that’s running high between the two of them, fight or flight both singing in his muscles to be released one way or the other. For the fraction of a second, Stiles thinks Peter is going to let it go, but as the moment passes, he feels the shift and is yet powerless to avert what happens next.
The Alpha bursts forth from behind the human shell, not completely, not truly, but enough so Stiles can feel the sharp claws bite into the flesh of his upper arms, smell the foul breath rising between the elongated, razor-sharp fangs as the air is punched out of his lungs when his back hits the concrete of the parking lot floor.
The actual bite is a mockery of the sudden violence that left him pinned and immobile on the ground. Peter pushes his shirt collar to the side with his nose and then aims for the thick, high-strung muscle of where his shoulder meets the neck, only lets one incisor and a couple of front teeth sink in, sharp edges parting skin and flesh with the greatest ease. Stiles doesn’t know exactly what it is about the bite of an Alpha that turns you into a wolf, but he feels fire spread from the wound immediately and knows it’s enough. He finds just enough of his breath to let out a pained gasp as the fever rushes through him like liquid poison.
“Shhhh, don’t fight, it’s too late, it’s too late.”
The voice comes from far away, black shadows already creeping into the edge of his vision. He feels the furtive warmth of a hand stroking his cheek for a moment, but the overwhelming agony that fills his whole body shuts everything down and his mind slips into blissful unconsciousness.
Knowing, that he’ll wake to a new world.
Author: Mangacat(201)
Pairing/Characters: Stiles, Peter Hale
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 810
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, that honor falls to MTV and Jeff Davies, I just play in the sandbox without looking for profit.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in S1-Finale
Summary: What if Peter asked, but did not care about the answer?
A/N: So, even though it’s officially way too late to hand in a bingo on time for the deadline, I still decided I wanted to have a line for the amnesty post. So this is for my
hc_bingo square: ‘bites’, in the one fandom where that prompt fits like a fist to the eyesocket (as we Germans say). For technical reasons (meaning I had half an hour to write this) this actually turned out to be less than there is of the story, so maybe I can get my ass up and write some more, we'll see.Mirror on AO3
Since his best friend got himself accidentally mixed up in the supernatural world behind the world that has since surpassed even Stiles’ grand imagination, he has had a lot of frightening experiences by way of being a reluctant mentor to an even more reluctant werewolf. He’s faced off against Scott’s moonlit rage, coldblooded hunters that are watching their every move and injured sourwolves, who had been all the more dangerous for being weak like a kitten. And if he thinks about it, running and screaming as every sensible person in a similar situation would have done, has figured way too little in the whole equation. So he’s either much braver or much more batshit insane than he had the chance to find out before – or maybe it’s both really. So that establishes that Stiles is not actually a wuss in the face of a supernatural adversary that could rip him apart in the air just like that.
But face to face with Peter Hale, the Alpha, the lingering, nebulous threat that hung over them all year turned flesh and piercing eyes in front of him – that turns out to scare him shitless beyond his wildest dreams. The quiet, subversive tone of the Alphas voice creates the illusion of calm and choice, like he would prefer his henchmen willing and subservient, but Stiles doesn’t even believe for a second that he has even got the slightest shred of power left in this scenario. He is but a very small cog in the Big Plan and if he refuses to turn in the right direction, something is going to damn well make him. That is why being offered the bite as a reward surprises him so much. The offer sounds honest, curious, like for him to weigh the consequence and join the pack. Choose the power.
That is precisely what enrages him though, the insinuation that he, as a lowly human wouldn’t be able to play the game in his own merit. That is what gives him the courage to pull his hand away and defy the Alpha even on something so incidental that he seems to have thrown it out on a whim.
And for a moment, he sees something like respect flash in the Alphas eyes, a hesitation, then another sliver of that curiosity, like he keeps defying expectations every step of the way. Stiles almost lets out the breath he’s been holding since he finished his rant about why he wouldn’t want the bite and swallows convulsively when Peter smiles and tells him how he’s lying.
He’s not … and he is.
He wants companionship, not to be left out of the odd circle of friends. He wants to not feel helpless against the power of those primal beings. But he also does not want to lose himself, succumb to instincts and urges that aren’t his to control. There are always two sides of the coin.
Peter hasn’t moved, still smiles like a shark and Stiles wishes for nothing more than to break the tension that’s running high between the two of them, fight or flight both singing in his muscles to be released one way or the other. For the fraction of a second, Stiles thinks Peter is going to let it go, but as the moment passes, he feels the shift and is yet powerless to avert what happens next.
The Alpha bursts forth from behind the human shell, not completely, not truly, but enough so Stiles can feel the sharp claws bite into the flesh of his upper arms, smell the foul breath rising between the elongated, razor-sharp fangs as the air is punched out of his lungs when his back hits the concrete of the parking lot floor.
The actual bite is a mockery of the sudden violence that left him pinned and immobile on the ground. Peter pushes his shirt collar to the side with his nose and then aims for the thick, high-strung muscle of where his shoulder meets the neck, only lets one incisor and a couple of front teeth sink in, sharp edges parting skin and flesh with the greatest ease. Stiles doesn’t know exactly what it is about the bite of an Alpha that turns you into a wolf, but he feels fire spread from the wound immediately and knows it’s enough. He finds just enough of his breath to let out a pained gasp as the fever rushes through him like liquid poison.
“Shhhh, don’t fight, it’s too late, it’s too late.”
The voice comes from far away, black shadows already creeping into the edge of his vision. He feels the furtive warmth of a hand stroking his cheek for a moment, but the overwhelming agony that fills his whole body shuts everything down and his mind slips into blissful unconsciousness.
Knowing, that he’ll wake to a new world.