Stiles can do tunnel vision with the best of them, knows every Pre and Post iteration of himself, can pick at a moment and know his own inevitable shifting, from Mom’s death to his first day of high school to his first brush with lycanthropy. And yet he can’t pinpoint when Scott’s leg pressed against his own changed from something he wouldn’t even register to the sort of thing that twists in his gut and pulls the air from his lungs, because Scott’s been his constant when the world won’t stop spinning and Stiles wants off, and Stiles can’t quantify any of it.
Lydia and Stiles are spirits, enslaved and used for their powers by the enchanter, Peter Hale. Peter has grown too strong and can no longer be ignored. The Legion of Wolves and Hunters (which sounds a lot more eloquent in French), sends out their three best operatives to find Peter and either kill him or find the source of his power – And, if need be, to get rid of that as well.
“So, what? You think the LDL can just send in a few pups and a girl with a bow and arrow and fix this?” The form in front of them wavers, solidifying to the point where if Scott reached out, he might be able to touch it.
“Be kind, Stiles,” a voice says from next to the group. Allison pulls a dagger from her boot and holds it in front of her. The fear on her face is palpable as the knife flies from her hand and embeds itself in a nearby tree. “They obviously don’t know who they’re dealing with.” A fiery red head materializes from beside the tree, eyes calming from a bright glowing white. The smirk on her face is predatory.
“Think they could benefit from us showing them?” The other spirit – Stiles – muses, walking over. Scott thinks it looks like he’s walking on a moving sidewalk, the steps taking him further than they would take a human – like he’s floating. There’s no crunch of leaves under foot, just silence as the three of them keep their eyes trained on the two spirits.
“We’re not here for you.” It’s Derek who speaks up, which makes the hair on Scott’s neck jump. To all of their surprise, he stands up straight and holsters his sidearm, which he never really needs to begin with. It’s for show, just like the electric rod that Scott is holding. Allison glares at Derek, lowering her hand and reaching for her other boot. “Please,” he bites. “Like our weapons could do shit to them.”
A laughs splits the air and the three hunters turn to look at the spirits. Stiles, who has solidified so much so that the only way to tell him apart from a human being is the fact that he’s greyed out, like looking at somebody through foggy glass, has his head tipped back and his mouth open. “You,” he says, lowering his head and leveling Derek with an unnerving grin. “I like you.” The hair on the back of Scott’s neck is still raised, prickling to where it’s almost painful. He glances over to Allison, whose jaw is clenched and whose eyes are bordering on dangerous. He hears the leather of her glove creak when she flexes her grip. He follows her line of sight to the red headed spirit, whose form is almost completely opaque.
“We should take them to Peter,” the spirit says, looking directly at Allison. Stiles frowns and looks over at her.
“Of course,” he agrees, though everything about his body language suggests that he thinks otherwise. Scott catches a spike of alcohol taint the air, and he guesses that even spirits have scents and emotions. And right now, there’s only fear.
no but what really fucked me up with the “okay? …it’s okay” part is how very calmly stiles the voice is and how much it visibly scares scott to hear, like nogitsune!stiles is talking to a scared dog and trying to calm it down right before morbidly twisting its neck or something.
not only that, but nogitsune!stiles is grabbing a shitload of control and power by sounding reassuring in the it’s okay, i know what i’m doing, i won’t hurt you kind of way. scott is completely at his mercy and the nogitsune manages to over-power him completely by using three single words, maliciously comforting and soothing him to make it hurt even more when he twists the sword.
three words.“okay? …it’s okay.” the gentle tone of his voice. first asking and preparing scott for what’s to come, making him ready for the pain. then assuring that it’s alright, as if the pain and twist of the sword is a necessity, something scott needs. a deserved punishment.
that is fucking torture on a masters level. i’m serious. look at scott’s face. he looks like a lost puppy. it’s not only physical torture but also advanced psychological torture. three words. the usage of stiles’s kind and caring voice. the question followed by the reassurance, after scott weakly begged him not to do it. scott’s putty in his hands.
y’know i could write an essay on these three words combined with the fact that it’s stiles - one of the, i would say, top three people scott loves the most in the world - torturing him, power dynamics, torturer/tortured, severe mind games, emotional manipulation, the overall punishment of the you’ve been a bad dog, scott, look what you’ve made me do/ if you weren’t such a bad dog, scott, i wouldn’t have to do this type and how much it should fuck scott up. but i’ll leave it at this.
really, scott not breaking from that makes him a whole new level of hero.