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“Dad, he’s going to shoot me,” Stiles whispered, his voice breaking with tears. If Stiles hadn’t just tossed Derek through a wall in his own fucking loft Derek might have believed the tone of terror. “Dad, please don’t let him kill me.”
“Argent, put the gun down!” the Sheriff shouted. Derek could already smell the anger, hurt and desperation, and it just got worse when Stiles turned his attention to Argent. Derek could see the profile of Stiles' face, the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Shoot me.” Stiles demanded, this time an unhinged tone in his voice. “Shoot me!”
Argent and the Sheriff were arguing, and Stiles were screaming for Argent to put a bullet in his head.
“Stop, stop, this is what he wants,” Allison screamed, trying to overvoice the arguments. Derek moved to grab Stiles’ shoulder, and the moment his hand connected on his shoulder, Stiles neck snapped to stare at him.
For a moment nothing happened, then Stiles’ face broke out into a terrible, cruel grin. Derek only had time to register it when Stiles heaved his shoulder upwards and jerked his entire body against Derek’s grip. Derek felt his shoulder dislocate against his grip, heard the ripping sound of muscle and flesh and then Stiles screamed out in agony.
The scream sounded too real, too much like Stiles and Derek released him in shock. The sheriff’s gun was pointed at Derek now.
“What did you do?” the Sheriff screamed. Derek just blinked, and Stiles scream bubbled out into a ringing, terrible laugh.
“ Oooh , I enjoyed that,” he said and snapped his shoulder back into place, the flesh easily mending itself together. That actually got everyone in the circle to shut up for a moment. Stiles grinned and watched him. “I just realised we haven’t been paying you the attention you deserve, Derek.”
Stiles snickered, a cold, completely unhinged laugh that made Derek unreasonably uncomfortable.
“You’re just full of chaos,” Stiles said coldly and smiled again. “Sneaky Stiles, keeping food away like this. We’re going to have to have a talk later.”
The sun was setting. The loft grew darker. Stiles moved past his father and Argent and turned to face the window.
“Right after you protect me from them.”
In the dark, the Oni appeared.
“Why the hell would we protect you?” Derek hissed, but he turned to face the Oni with his claws. He could hear Stiles laugh.
“You won’t let them kill me, right, Dad?” Stiles whined, and Derek knew they had walked right into the nogitsune’s trap.
They all fought to protect Stiles, which is why everyone was confused when the Oni suddenly stopped attacking them. Derek looked back at Stiles that stood frozen, his head tilted as he stared into space for a second.
Stiles dark amber eyes focused on Derek and he smiled distractedly and sighed.
“Sorry, we’ll have to talk later.” And then Stiles disappeared into thin air.
Peter slammed the door on his way out, probably just to annoy Derek even more. Regardless of that, Peter did have a point. Chess was Stiles’ game, not the nogitsune’s.
“I like him ,” Stiles suddenly said behind him. Derek jumped and twisted about, snarling. Stiles gave him an unimpressed look.
Stiles… did not look so good. He had dark circles under his eyes, and a large, gashing wound on his stomach. Derek stared at the red blood staining Stiles’ pale skin.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Derek,” Stiles said, sinking down on Derek's couch and placing a careful hand over his open wound. Derek could already smell that it was healing itself, magically wounding whatever had slit him apart together. “I told you we’d talk later.”
“The only thing we’re going to do is me kicking your ass,” Derek snarled. Stiles smiled, all harsh and sharp and showed his teeth. Barred teeth was a challenge.
Derek pounced at him, but before he could get one good swing in, Stiles grabbed him by the neck and tightened so hard that all the fight went out of him. The grip was unlike anything Derek had ever felt. It was hard, and cold, and seemed to seep out Derek’s life force.
“Listen to me, pup ,” the nogitsune hissed out, his face still holding that vicious grin. His teeth looked really sharp. Much sharper than a humans should. His eyes glistened in the low light. “We are a thousand years old, not some little shit you can push around and scare the crap out of for an ego boost.”
Derek struggled to breathe. He grasped at the wrist of the hand holding him stuck, trying to break the grasp.
Absolutely nothing.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Stiles said and eased his grip so Derek could drag in a few, burning breaths into his aching lungs. “Don’t think we don’t see you, pup.
“So alone. Without sisters, without a pack. No wonder you toss around a seventeen-year-old half your size when you get the chance.” Stiles purred. Derek gasped for air and clung uselessly at his hand. “Feels good, doesn’t it?
“Being in control for a little bit? Making someone else hurt for a little bit so you can forget the fact that your entire family is dead because of you.”
The nogitsune dropped him and Derek tumbled to the floor, wheezing for breath.
Derek could heal. There was no reason for him to be unable to breathe, and yet where Stiles’ hand had touched his skin felt freezing, like a wound that refused to close. There was a void where the nogitsune had touched him, and it felt like he was dying from it. If felt like he was being devoured by it.
“I was going to have you settle out this little debacle with Argent,” the nogitsune spoke thoughtfully. “Perhaps flames and brimstone. Oh, how brightly your hatred would have burned.”
The thing wearing Stiles’ face laughed gleefully. Derek coughed and tried to glare at it. It just smiled.
“You would have sustained me, Derek Hale,” it said and leaned in. Derek involuntarily pulled back. “But you would have burned out too brightly.”
The thing frowned, or perhaps pouted was the right word.
“I need sustenance,” it hissed slowly, each word coming out almost like a growl.
“Order a freaking pizza,” Derek snapped.
“I don’t think so,” the nogitsune said. Its hand reached out and grabbed Derek’s face again. “Dinner’s already arrived.”
And then, the most excruciating pain Derek had ever experienced burst through his skin and the void sucked everything out of him; Paige, Kate, the Fire, Laura’s death, Peter’s betrayal - Peter’s death - Jennifer, Boyd and Erica.
The void fed and Derek screamed.
The wound on its stomach closed slowly, but Derek could smell it healing. The nogitsune looked bad; its cheeks were hollow, black rings under its eyes, a pale perplexion with a hint of a feverish gleam. But its hands were strong, and wherever it grabbed Derek he could feel it eat away another piece of him.
And it grabbed at him. It grabbed everywhere, both inside and out. Derek couldn’t escape it.
Its kiss was hard and brutal, matched only by the lethal grip it had on Derek’s throat and the fast pace it was fucking itself onto Derek’s dick.
Derek would have thought a demon would do the fucking, not the other way around, but its long fingers tightened over Derek’s throat and Stiles’ muscles contracted around him and Derek came, feeling just another piece be devoured by the void.
Then, the nogitsune collapsed on top of him. The grip released and Derek could breathe again. He coughed and twisted to his side, trying to get more air. The nogitsune slipped off of him and Derek groaned and opened an eye to watch it.
It was watching him back, and it’s dark eyes glittered. Tears were running down it’s cheeks.
“Stiles?” Derek asked. More tears fell and he received a tiny, stiff nod. “Shit, are you okay?”
The expression on his face looked pained, then the corner of his lips pulled up and he smiled sharply.
“Really, Derek?” the nogitsune admonished. “I shed a few tears, that’s all it takes?”
Derek immediately scowled his face. The nogitsune smiled sardonically.
“No wonder it was so easy for Kate Argent to slip into your pants and burn down everyone you ever loved.”
“Shut up,” Derek hissed. Void smiled and placed a hand on his cheek.
“Yes, that’s it,” he said appreciatively. “Give that to Daddy, pup.”
Derek growled, but Void took that with a bite and a giggle and Derek screamed.