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31_days2013-12-10 11:45 pm
saraste-impi.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2013-12-10 11:45 pm
[December 10th] [Teen Wolf] The Absolute Worst
Title: The Absolute Worst
Day/Prompt: 10.People get too used to inconvenience.
Series: Teen Wolf
Character: Stiles, demon!Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski
Rating: PG-13
WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, emotional anguish
The worst of it is, Stiles thinks, that not all the people he knows notice something is wrong right away. He hopes that it's just because the demon starts easy. Hurtful words, verbal barbs which hit the mark every single time since what Stiles knows will hurt, the demon knows too. They dig in deep and Stiles can't take the words back, can't tell that he doesn't mean it, would never lay such hurt on anyone willingly.
Lydia is the one who stares at him like she can't believe that Stiles has the gall to use such words, call her such names, prod at the hurts she's being so careful to hide, that she has hidden under her haughty exterior. She, to her credit, gives back in equal measure, heaping over him all of what she thinks is wrong about him. But when she rushes off, her stilettos clicking on the floor, she does turn back, gives him a look.
It's frightening how easy it is for the demon to just slink Stiles' body to class, brush off Scott when his best friend rushes at him´and demands to know why he isn't in the hospital. It hurts and feels nice that Scott is so worried, even when they have drifted a bit apart in the wake of all the supernatural. Hurts more when the demon spouts abuse at Scott and his face just crumbles.
And then his body is running, the demon jerking him away because of the way Scott had suddenly sniffed at him and had...
It's good to know that Scott must have sensed that something was wrong. On his way out Stiles runs into Isaac, Boyd and Erica, abuses them and leaves them behind as quick as that.
He feels bad. He feels so bad about it all. But the worst really is that none of them notice it off the bat, not before he opens his mouth, and not instantly after that either. It doesn't help that the demon keeps talking to him inside his head, taunting him, telling him that his friends are no real friends, after all.
It gets Stiles wondering. About if he normally really acts in a way that would lend credence to the people in his life to believe it when his personality takes a swift turn from sarcastic to hurting people with words on purpose and enjoying it.
The worst, the absolute worst, is his dad.
The demon drags him home even when Stiles fights him for control with all the strength he can muster which, in the end, doesn't seem to be near enough at all. His dad is home, slumped on the kitchen table with his face in his hands as the demon walks Stiles through the front door and the living room into the kitchen.
His dad takes one look at him and doesn't seem to notice much of anything. Just starts talking as he gets up and walks up to Stiles. “Where the hell have you been?! You walked out of the hospital! I've been worried sick!”
Then he goes to hug Stiles and Stiles screams internally because he wants to hug him back but the demon, in control, doesn't let him but is stiff in the hug and the look on his dad's face fucking hurts.
“Stiles?” His dad asks and Stiles knows that he knows that something's wrong.
“I'm fine,” the demon makes Stiles' lips say, making them snarl up into a sneer, “fuck, don't fuss so much!” The body, his but now not his as he's not in control, twists out of his dad's grasp and backs off.
His dad just looks at him, floored and Stiles begs that he notices something. Yes, he had been lying to his dad about the werewolves, first for protection and then almost out of habit even when it had grated at him, the way his dad had looked at him, both of them knowing that more lies than truths ever made it out of Stiles' mouth.
“I don't need you.” The demon says and his dad's face just crumples.
Then it sets and Stiles knows that look. And he hopes it's not getting his dad into trouble. The demon has filled his head with vivid, graphic images of all the things it's capable of doing even when it inhabits a human body. Stiles really doesn't want any of them happening to his dad. He really doesn't.
Stiles wants control over his body so hard it hurts, even when it maybe shouldn't, since he doesn't think he has control over parts of his body which can hurt, even when it's emotional anguish but... yeah, maybe he feels it's more viscerally now that all the accompanying physical responses are cut out. Because the demon wearing his skin doesn't feel anguish. He feel, and it filters over to Stiles, glee. The demon is hyped by the idea that he gets to wrench all these broken sad faces and responses out of his dad, more so when it knows how Stiles reacts to them. It's a vicious feed-back loop even when Stiles can't loop out.
Then the demon says things to Stiles' dad which he has to block out but he can't block out the face his dad has, a face which makes Stiles want to break free, claw his way out and shove the demon out, to tell his dad that it's not him talking, that he doesn't mean it, that he would never say such things.
Even when his dad says: “That's not my son. Stiles would never say anything like that to me. Who the fuck are you?”
The words don't wipe away the look of utter bone-deep hurt that still sits on his dad's face like it's going to stay there for the rest of his life. Stiles can't even begin to fathom how unsettling it must be to hear such words spoken in a voice belonging to someone you love even when you know by the content that it can't be the person whose it is saying them.
Not surprisingly, the demon rages. Even when it's had access to Stiles' memories, knows about how much he loves his dad, would die for him in a heartbeat, it had actually believed that his dad would believe it was his son spouting hurtful lies to him.
His dad looks weary and then Stiles sees what the demon sees through a glaze of black shadows and he freaks, he honestly freaks out. His dad does too, there's a look of absolute bonewrenching horror on his face and Stiles knows he'll remember that look until his very last breath. Which may come sooner rather than later by the way things are going.
There's a scuffle which leaves his dad down on their kitchen floor, blood pooling under him, the demon racing Stiles' body out of there even when Stiles wills it to fucking stay put. Because his hands have his dad's blood on them, his hands held a knife and he's seen his dad's face when his own fucking hands twist a knife in his gut. Stiles can only hope for the best, taking small comfort in that the demon wants his dad to die slow, so the wound isn't lethal... not yet. Not if his dad gets help, sooner rather than later.
Then Stiles is having a panic attack, thinking about his dad all alone, in pain and with the images of Stiles stabbing him, and that actually makes the demon stumble. Lose control. Drop to the floor. And now Stiles' vision is swimming with another kind of blackness as he's fighting his body, fighting the demon for control even when he's forgotten how to breathe, even when he shakes and can't think of nothing but how cold his dad's blood feels on his fingers.
Stiles crawls over towards his dad, and it's so fucking hard to do. The demon is still not in control but not for a lack of trying and Stiles can still feel it, fuck how he can, how it gnaws to get back to control. Back in control to hurt his dad.
His reaching for his dad but it's still too damn far, his dad is few feet away and it feels like it's the other side of the world. Stiles cannot breathe, cannot but replay the last few seconds in his mind as he reels.
“Dad...” Stiles croaks out, his jaw clenching on the words as the demon inside fights for control. His dad's blood is sticky on his fingers and he wants to be sick. Is sick, heaving up bile as his body shudders and he can't breathe, cheek against the kitchen floor, his dad way too far away.
“Stiles...” His dad's voice absolutely breaks Stiles' heart. It's hopeful. Broken. Sad. Tired. If Stiles tries, surely he can reach, his fingers are stretching, eyes locked with his dad's where he lies on face-down on the floor but his head craned towards Stiles. Just a little bit...
Then the demon slams back in control and everything shifts, the demon picking his body up the floor in an inhuman way, like he's a puppet on strings.
“How foes it feel to be killed by your own son?” It asks his dad, making Stiles want to bite his own tongue so he can drown in his blood and be unable to speak. The demon just laughs inside his head. And it just fucking goes on. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” it fucking purrs as it leans closer, so close that Stiles can feel his dad's breath hot on his cheek.
“But now I feel so bad,” it continues, mock-contrite, “might have to kill myself.” The demon plays with the knife, brings it close to Stiles' face, his dad's face so his dad can't not see it.
“May need to stab this in and add my blood to yours.”
Day/Prompt: 10.People get too used to inconvenience.
Series: Teen Wolf
Character: Stiles, demon!Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski
Rating: PG-13
WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, emotional anguish
The worst of it is, Stiles thinks, that not all the people he knows notice something is wrong right away. He hopes that it's just because the demon starts easy. Hurtful words, verbal barbs which hit the mark every single time since what Stiles knows will hurt, the demon knows too. They dig in deep and Stiles can't take the words back, can't tell that he doesn't mean it, would never lay such hurt on anyone willingly.
Lydia is the one who stares at him like she can't believe that Stiles has the gall to use such words, call her such names, prod at the hurts she's being so careful to hide, that she has hidden under her haughty exterior. She, to her credit, gives back in equal measure, heaping over him all of what she thinks is wrong about him. But when she rushes off, her stilettos clicking on the floor, she does turn back, gives him a look.
It's frightening how easy it is for the demon to just slink Stiles' body to class, brush off Scott when his best friend rushes at him´and demands to know why he isn't in the hospital. It hurts and feels nice that Scott is so worried, even when they have drifted a bit apart in the wake of all the supernatural. Hurts more when the demon spouts abuse at Scott and his face just crumbles.
And then his body is running, the demon jerking him away because of the way Scott had suddenly sniffed at him and had...
It's good to know that Scott must have sensed that something was wrong. On his way out Stiles runs into Isaac, Boyd and Erica, abuses them and leaves them behind as quick as that.
He feels bad. He feels so bad about it all. But the worst really is that none of them notice it off the bat, not before he opens his mouth, and not instantly after that either. It doesn't help that the demon keeps talking to him inside his head, taunting him, telling him that his friends are no real friends, after all.
It gets Stiles wondering. About if he normally really acts in a way that would lend credence to the people in his life to believe it when his personality takes a swift turn from sarcastic to hurting people with words on purpose and enjoying it.
The worst, the absolute worst, is his dad.
The demon drags him home even when Stiles fights him for control with all the strength he can muster which, in the end, doesn't seem to be near enough at all. His dad is home, slumped on the kitchen table with his face in his hands as the demon walks Stiles through the front door and the living room into the kitchen.
His dad takes one look at him and doesn't seem to notice much of anything. Just starts talking as he gets up and walks up to Stiles. “Where the hell have you been?! You walked out of the hospital! I've been worried sick!”
Then he goes to hug Stiles and Stiles screams internally because he wants to hug him back but the demon, in control, doesn't let him but is stiff in the hug and the look on his dad's face fucking hurts.
“Stiles?” His dad asks and Stiles knows that he knows that something's wrong.
“I'm fine,” the demon makes Stiles' lips say, making them snarl up into a sneer, “fuck, don't fuss so much!” The body, his but now not his as he's not in control, twists out of his dad's grasp and backs off.
His dad just looks at him, floored and Stiles begs that he notices something. Yes, he had been lying to his dad about the werewolves, first for protection and then almost out of habit even when it had grated at him, the way his dad had looked at him, both of them knowing that more lies than truths ever made it out of Stiles' mouth.
“I don't need you.” The demon says and his dad's face just crumples.
Then it sets and Stiles knows that look. And he hopes it's not getting his dad into trouble. The demon has filled his head with vivid, graphic images of all the things it's capable of doing even when it inhabits a human body. Stiles really doesn't want any of them happening to his dad. He really doesn't.
Stiles wants control over his body so hard it hurts, even when it maybe shouldn't, since he doesn't think he has control over parts of his body which can hurt, even when it's emotional anguish but... yeah, maybe he feels it's more viscerally now that all the accompanying physical responses are cut out. Because the demon wearing his skin doesn't feel anguish. He feel, and it filters over to Stiles, glee. The demon is hyped by the idea that he gets to wrench all these broken sad faces and responses out of his dad, more so when it knows how Stiles reacts to them. It's a vicious feed-back loop even when Stiles can't loop out.
Then the demon says things to Stiles' dad which he has to block out but he can't block out the face his dad has, a face which makes Stiles want to break free, claw his way out and shove the demon out, to tell his dad that it's not him talking, that he doesn't mean it, that he would never say such things.
Even when his dad says: “That's not my son. Stiles would never say anything like that to me. Who the fuck are you?”
The words don't wipe away the look of utter bone-deep hurt that still sits on his dad's face like it's going to stay there for the rest of his life. Stiles can't even begin to fathom how unsettling it must be to hear such words spoken in a voice belonging to someone you love even when you know by the content that it can't be the person whose it is saying them.
Not surprisingly, the demon rages. Even when it's had access to Stiles' memories, knows about how much he loves his dad, would die for him in a heartbeat, it had actually believed that his dad would believe it was his son spouting hurtful lies to him.
His dad looks weary and then Stiles sees what the demon sees through a glaze of black shadows and he freaks, he honestly freaks out. His dad does too, there's a look of absolute bonewrenching horror on his face and Stiles knows he'll remember that look until his very last breath. Which may come sooner rather than later by the way things are going.
There's a scuffle which leaves his dad down on their kitchen floor, blood pooling under him, the demon racing Stiles' body out of there even when Stiles wills it to fucking stay put. Because his hands have his dad's blood on them, his hands held a knife and he's seen his dad's face when his own fucking hands twist a knife in his gut. Stiles can only hope for the best, taking small comfort in that the demon wants his dad to die slow, so the wound isn't lethal... not yet. Not if his dad gets help, sooner rather than later.
Then Stiles is having a panic attack, thinking about his dad all alone, in pain and with the images of Stiles stabbing him, and that actually makes the demon stumble. Lose control. Drop to the floor. And now Stiles' vision is swimming with another kind of blackness as he's fighting his body, fighting the demon for control even when he's forgotten how to breathe, even when he shakes and can't think of nothing but how cold his dad's blood feels on his fingers.
Stiles crawls over towards his dad, and it's so fucking hard to do. The demon is still not in control but not for a lack of trying and Stiles can still feel it, fuck how he can, how it gnaws to get back to control. Back in control to hurt his dad.
His reaching for his dad but it's still too damn far, his dad is few feet away and it feels like it's the other side of the world. Stiles cannot breathe, cannot but replay the last few seconds in his mind as he reels.
“Dad...” Stiles croaks out, his jaw clenching on the words as the demon inside fights for control. His dad's blood is sticky on his fingers and he wants to be sick. Is sick, heaving up bile as his body shudders and he can't breathe, cheek against the kitchen floor, his dad way too far away.
“Stiles...” His dad's voice absolutely breaks Stiles' heart. It's hopeful. Broken. Sad. Tired. If Stiles tries, surely he can reach, his fingers are stretching, eyes locked with his dad's where he lies on face-down on the floor but his head craned towards Stiles. Just a little bit...
Then the demon slams back in control and everything shifts, the demon picking his body up the floor in an inhuman way, like he's a puppet on strings.
“How foes it feel to be killed by your own son?” It asks his dad, making Stiles want to bite his own tongue so he can drown in his blood and be unable to speak. The demon just laughs inside his head. And it just fucking goes on. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” it fucking purrs as it leans closer, so close that Stiles can feel his dad's breath hot on his cheek.
“But now I feel so bad,” it continues, mock-contrite, “might have to kill myself.” The demon plays with the knife, brings it close to Stiles' face, his dad's face so his dad can't not see it.
“May need to stab this in and add my blood to yours.”