The Nogitsune took its hands —Stiles’ hands— out of the dead man’s chest, ripping the heart out. Warm blood flowed down its arm, dripping into the floor with a delightful tap-tap-tap. It took one last look at Peter’s battered body, then glanced at the Hale heir with a mischievous smirk.
“I’ve been meaning to get a hold of you. We’re going to have so much fun.”
If you touch him, I will kill you. Stiles’ mind was far braver than he was in real life.
I’d like to see you try.
Stiles didn’t back down. His presence threatened to surround the creature, but the warm blood flowing down the heart he still held in its hand was a reminder of where it was and its hold in the mortal world.
I’m not fucking around. Leave him the fuck alone.
The Nogitsune found Stiles’ anger particularly interesting. The boy was full of sorrow after seeing it kill his beloved redhead, but the fierce, protective fury that surged at the sight of the Hale heir was almost as strong as the pain. For the Nogitsune, it made no difference: anger was a side effect of pain and it was satiating its ferocious hunger. It was intoxicating.
“I take it Stiles is dead,” the Hale heir said.
“Does it make a difference?”
“It means I don’t have to hold back when I get my hands on you.” The wolf dropped the duffel bag he was carrying and closed the door behind him, shifting as he walked closer to the Nogitsune. Stiles watched entranced by the way the muscle and bone twisted, the fur lined his face, the sharp claws came to the surface in a fluid movement.
Ah, I see how it is now, the Nogitsune thought. The arousal that coursed through Stiles was a confession in itself.
“Did you know your darling Stiles put on quite a show when he saw you?”
The wolf frowned at the Nogitsune, unknowing. It made this more entertaining than he would’ve assumed before. When the Hale heir —Derek— was just a thought, Stiles’ feelings were a complicated net of confusion, sexual frustration and stoned fantasies. When Derek was in front of him, Stiles’ whole body responded as if connected to an electric current.
Shut the fuck up, dude. You don’t know shit.
“Stiles is dead,” the wolf insisted, willing himself to believe it. The Nogitsune could feel the grief this wolf carried and it was almost blinding in its intensity, the slightest hint of doubt peeking behind the waves of sorrow and loss. “If you’re here, then he’s dead.”
“Oh, but Derek, I wouldn’t do this without an audience.”
With that the Nogitsune lurched forward, pulled by the energy the Hale heir radiated.
The Nogitsune had to admit the wolf was good in a fight. He was fast and lethal, but it wouldn't make a difference against a creature that just ripped a heart out of a body. He twisted his body out of the way, slashed across Stiles’ arms to get him out of the way, punched clean across its jaw when the creature came too close. The hit would’ve been enough to knock Stiles unconscious, but Stiles was not the captain anymore and the Nogitsune was quick to draw on every drop of the wolf’s strength laced with pained anger.
It couldn’t have asked for a better Host, as Stiles’ face was enough to put an edge of hesitation to all of the wolf’s hits. The Hale heir couldn’t fight against Stiles and wasn’t that an interesting development?
I swear to god—
“What was that, Stiles?” the Nogitsune said out loud, putting on his best Stiles’ impression. “You want me to do what? I knew you had it in you, you sick bastard.”
It threw Derek off for long enough that the Nogitsune grabbed him by the throat and walked him back to the wall, smashing his head against the glass. Cobwebs surged from the point of impact, the glass on the verge of breaking. Blood dripped from the heir’s temple even as the wound in his head closed a moment later; Stiles’ stomach tightened.
The wolf fought it, but no matter the wolf strength, he couldn’t bring himself to properly break Stiles’ arm to get free. It squeezed Derek’s throat, its face mere inches from his. Pain surged from Derek’s body and the Nogitsune sank in it. “Darling Stiles thinks you look hot when you’re bloodied and beaten.”
Stiles didn’t say anything inside its head, he was watching as still as he could be, fighting to keep his thoughts to himself. The Nogitsune didn’t like the way Stiles had almost perfect control of his own mind for a moment, so it slammed against the walls put up by its Host, looking for a crack. If there wasn’t one, it would create one.
What are you trying to hide Stiles?
The Nogitsune felt a jolt of energy down its right arm until it was no longer its arm, but Stiles’ arm. Stiles let go of Derek without missing a beat, staring at his bloodied hands with wild eyes.
“Stiles?” the wolf asks, disbelieving.
“Stiles and I are trying to work out our differences.” The Nogitsune’s cheery tone made Stiles recoil back into his brain. The creature directed all of its power to its hands to slam the Hale heir’s head against the glass wall one more time, hard enough for the window to shatter and for Derek to lose consciousness. “Please stand back for a second.”
I told you to leave him alone.
And I thought I told you to let me in, Stiles. You can’t hide things from me.
Stiles tensed.
You are hiding something. The Nogitsune heard the Hale heir groan as he came to, Stiles’ eyes scanned the wolf’s face and zeroed on the new blood at his temple, watching the new injury heal slower. “Is it about the wolf, Stiles? Is it about what you don’t want me to do?”
It kneeled next to the Hale heir, catching his face and forcefully turning him to look at the Nogitsune. Its hands —because at the moment, they were the Nogitsune’s hands— left a trail of blood still warm from Peter’s chest. “What is this boy’s fascination with you?”
The wolf clenched his jaw and held its gaze. He bit his words out with a fierceness that made Stiles stand his ground in his corner. “Stiles, if you can hear me, I will get you out.”
Stiles’ heart beat faster and a rush of heat went up the boy’s chest to his cheeks. Stiles had wanted to touch Derek’s face for years and right now, through the Nogitsune’s movements, he got exactly what he wanted. Arousal mixed with fear and the creature felt a crack in Stiles’ mental fort.
It was the Nogitsune holding the Redhead against the bars of Camp Oak Creek, a shiver went through her when the Nogitsune, lips on her cheek, whispered: I am insatiable.
When the Nogitsune said those words, it meant it could consume her pain —it could consume the entire world’s if it wanted—, but in Stiles’ mind, the Nogitsune was forcefully pushing against her, his hands bruising her pale body, ravishing her until she bled on the floor. Stiles’ imagination was vivid enough to put sounds and emotion into the thought. Stiles’ own shame tinted the memory a deliciously red color.
Suddenly, the Nogitsune understood.
“Stiles, if that’s what you wanted, you only had to ask.”
Stiles tried to fight for control of its arms again, but the creature’s soul was pumped full of adrenaline, savoring the thrill of the chase. Holding the Hale heir by the chin, it straddled him with a swift movement. The Hale heir went still, his body no longer struggling to move out of the creature’s grasp. Stiles pushed his way against the Nogitsune’s control, almost reaching his fingertips, but the Nogitsune relished in Stiles’ desperation, the anger coursing through him was the cherry on top of the cake.
The Nogitsune grinded its hips against Derek’s lap, in a heavy, deliberate movement and the guttural groan that escaped Derek’s throat was a bolt of energy. Both Stiles and Derek looked positively stunned to hear the heat in the wolf’s voice.
The wolf’s body tensed underneath it, the muscles in his arms strained as the man clenched his fists, his claws leaving bloody dents behind. The Nogitsune tightened its hold on Derek’s throat and pressed down his chest with its left hand. Satisfied that the wolf was calm for now, it leaned down close to the man’s face, licking a strip down his cheek as he grinded his hips down once more.
How do you want it Stiles? How do you want me to take him first?
Stiles recoiled at the Nogitsune’s thoughts; with a strained, furious voice he thought-whispered. Leave him the fuck alone.
The Nogitsune’s left hand pinned the heir’s shoulder to the ground, but the man wasn’t moving, his balled-up fists laid still on the floor. It roughly dragged its hands down the man’s torso, ripping the gray t-shirt he wore, Stiles’ nails leaving furious marks stained by tiny droplets of blood behind.
Don’t fucking touch him.
The frantic energy flowing through Stiles was making the Nogitsune heady, it was hot, angry, wild. It pulled it in all directions and it made it feel true excitement for the first time in 70 years. This wasn’t feeding to live anymore, this was a bacchanal of chaos in the making, enough desperation and agony to make a monster thrive. It was enjoying the feeling of it bubble under Stiles’ skin.
The Nogitsune’s next movement made Stiles look away uncomfortable.
You will look.
It dragged its tongue down the heir’s torso and the man’s next breath came uneven. It licked over the marks left by Stiles’ own nails, tasting equal parts sweat and blood. The creature kept its eyes fixed on the wolf’s skin as it went down his chest, down his stomach. Stiles’ skin was burning with fury, arousal and guilt.
Stiles’ mind fort was no longer holding its ground and the Nogitsune could easily see the entirety of its Host’s imagination run wild. Every second of the Nogitsune’s memory of having the Redhead against the bars was on a loop. A whimper, soft, milk-white skin, green eyes full of revulsion and fear. Then, it saw the Hale heir, thrashing against its hold, unable to get away from Stiles’ bruising hands. The creature saw Stiles’ mind rush to make up scenarios where Derek did something against the Nogitsune, a glimmer of hope in the middle of such violence.
The creature pulled that glimmer of hope and chewed it back down when its hand slid down the wolf’s pants. Stiles went cold when the Nogitsune’s fingertips brushed the front of Derek’s boxers, feeling the outline of his half-hard cock.
Do you like this, Stiles?
The Nogitsune looked back to the Hale heir’s face: he had shifted back to his human form, his eyes were slightly unfocused, looking at something in the ceiling, his blood-stained face was relaxed under the creature’s fingers.
Something stirred inside the Nogitsune, pulled by the power pulsing out of the wolf beneath him. It was dark, anguished, wrapping the creature in an ectasis big enough to cloud its thoughts. The weight of the distress inside the wolf was all-consuming, flashing with memories of anger, hopelessness, and pain, pain, pain.
There was a tall blonde woman, she looked about 25 years old. She said she was visiting. She said Derek was interesting, she said Derek was talented, she said he was handsome, she said he had a spark inside of him.
She laughed at his jokes, she touched his arm, she kissed him, she touched him, she kissed him.
She ate him up and spat him out.
Then, there was fire.
There was fire and smoke and gasoline and wolfsbane.
There were bullets.
There was pain, there was shame, there was guilt.
There was guilt, guilt, guilt.
There was loneliness.
There were knives and there were cuts that healed before the pain set in.
There was a woman, brunette and beautiful, who could turn into a wolf. She had red eyes and a soft, yet commanding voice.
She was all he had left.
There were unanswered calls and a full voice mail.
There were roads and a black car and the pull of the Beacon.
There was a body cut in half.
Then there was darkness.
Emptiness.
The Nogitsune’s eyes shot open, perturbed by the feeling of been consumed by the painful memories pouring out of the wolf. The Hale heir was a beacon of sorrow, chaos, anguish. It was enough to make any creature weak.
There was a jolt at being shoved to the back of a cage. The Nogitsune had been in a cage for 70 years, the feeling was familiar and disconcerting. The Host should not be able to do this.
Stiles.
Stiles blinked as he realized he was fully in control again. He quickly let go of the wolf’s face and climbed off his body, kneeling next to him.
“Derek.”
The Hale heir didn’t move at the sound of his name.
“Derek, please.” He wasn’t touching the man, but his bloodied hands were hovering near his face, desperate to touch. “Please, look at me.”
Stiles. If you wanted to do it yourself, all you had to do was ask.
The Host looked up, addressing the Nogitsune as if it was standing in front of him.
“I told you not to touch him.”
The cage inside Stiles’ mind felt tighter around it, walls pushing against the creature on all sides, an uncomfortable weight pushing it down.
I will end you.
Stiles’ thoughts were tinted with a fury unlike anything the Nogitsune had felt in ages. It was fierce and intense, appetizing and inviting, bitter and unbearable.
“Stiles?”
Derek’s voice drew his attention and Stiles’ hands twitched to reach out for him, but he stayed back, giving the man space.
“Derek, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The Host’s voice broke in a sob and the Nogitsune felt his control weaken. It was just out of reach for it to take over, barely a thought away. The creature just needed to bid its time inside, vigilant, waiting for the moment the Host’s pain became unbearable. The smallest distraction and he’d show the Host exactly how much it could hurt someone.
“Hey,” the wolf’s voice was tender as he reached for Stiles’ hand. “Hey, Stiles.”
“Derek, I need you to kill me. You gotta do it now.” Words rushed out faster than Stiles’ thoughts. “You gotta do it now and you gotta do it fast. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it off.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s in my head. It’s inside my head because I let it in. I let it in, Derek!” He hiccupped and his control trembled inside his mind. The Nogitsune reached out, tendrils of its soul feeling for cracks in its cage. The weight of Stiles’ anguish would break him down any minute now. “Please, Derek. Please don’t let me—”
“Stiles, I can’t. I—”
“Yes. Yes, you can. You are going to do it before it takes over and it takes half the city with it.”
The wolf looked at him for a moment and struggled to sit up. Stiles helped him up, taking his hands away the moment the man looked stable. The Hale heir wiped his face, then ran a hand over his hair. “Scott said you were separated.”
“The door was open already, all it needed was an invitation.” The Nogitsune felt Stiles’ voice waver and the smallest possible crack in its prison. It was enough for the creature to rage against with viciousness, tendrils of itself slipping into the cracks. The Host’s heart sped up, its thump, thump, thump loud inside the Nogitsune’s cage. “Now, Derek. You have to kill me now.”
“Stiles—”
“Derek, for fuck’s sake, I don’t care! I forgive you. Is that what you need? Absolution? I forgive you. Now do it. Do it!” the sob that wrecked his body widened the crack and the Nogitsune slowly reached to occupy a bigger space inside Stiles. It was an inch too short of complete control, but it was enough to make Stiles’ body spasm and crumple to the floor. Pain bloomed in his skull when his head hit the floor.
“I’m going to get you out of there, you hear me?” Derek’s desperate promise only made the grief inside Stiles stronger. It pushed harder against its enclosure, taking Stiles’ body an inch at a time.
“I’m sorry, Derek. I’m sorry about Kate, I’m sorry about this, I’m—" The Nogitsune slid back into place with an effortless push. It smiled as it looked up at the wolf. “Where were we?”
Before the Nogitsune had any time to react, a punch hit his jaw hard enough to break bones. It felt it reverberate through Stiles’ head, a sick, wet crunch ringed in its ears when it opened its mouth to speak. It couldn’t get a word out before the next hit.
The wolf growled in pain. It pulled at the Nogitsune and if the man weren’t a wolf, he would make the best Host for the creature. His emotions were a treasure trove of conflict, an anguished cry for help, ripe for the taking and the Nogitsune was taking as much as it could.
With it, came memories of the Host drenched in agony so deep, it almost made the Nogitsune nauseous: there were heavy looks after a discussion, there were long fingers gripping a bone saw, there was Stiles’ heavy weight when he was paralyzed, there were strong hands pulling Derek out of the water, there was a comforting hand on his shoulder after killing his beta, there was an exasperated huff after a dumb idea, there were jokes shared after midnight, there was trust and there was grief and there was loss and there was something else the Nogitsune couldn’t get its tendrils on.
Thank you, Derek.
The Nogitsune felt several blows, the echoes of another feeling, a whisper of Stiles’ voice and then everything went black.
There was pain and the Nogitsune fed on pain. This pain however, came from a body, a body it was still inside of.
The rope burned its wrists and the tape covering its mouth felt familiar.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Damn it, Derek.
The Nogitsune pushed Stiles’ thoughts back, savoring the ache in its bones. It would heal, pulling on the room’s energy until it could escape its bonds. It opened its eyes and saw the Alpha Wolf with one of his betas. The Hale heir stood to the back of the room, following its movements carefully.
All the eyes in the room turned to it.
“Look, you piece of shit. This is how it’s going to go: you will leave Stiles and it will be the last thing you ever do,” the Alpha’s eyes turned crimson as he spoke.
Stiles’ scream ripped through the Nogitsune’s throat: its anguish was the most delicious meal the creature ever tasted.
The Nogitsune smiled.
I’m going to have fun with your friends, Stiles. I’m going to eat them raw.
Stiles raged inside his mind, helpless.
I want you to feel it all.