SLOWLY BEING REWRITTEN!
People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
K...
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de-void
Stilinski walked into the loft alone, golden hour striking through the large windows, illuminating the room and the boy who stood central of it, his back turned to his father, taking in the last few moments of sunlight before darkness set upon them. Before their hooded enemies returned for another round of the fight. Upon hearing the loft door swing open, the footsteps of the man that slowly approached him, Stiles turned to face the man, dad, he greeted him, though Stilinski was unsure it was his son talking to him. It looked like him, sounded like him even, but it didn't feel like his son was in the room with him.
Noah slowly reached for his belt, pulling out a set of handcuffs. Stiles seemed surprised that his father would want to handcuff him, looking between the rings of metal and the man holding it. Sheriff Stilinski stepped closer. If his son was still here, if there was a part of him still standing in front of him then he would willingly put on the handcuffs and come with him because he would know his father was there to protect him, from himself and others. By the time Noah had gotten out his words, he was standing inches from his son who looked back at him with tearful eyes, he continued looking between the metal handcuffs and his father, contemplating his words until he chose to hold up his wrists, agreeing to let the man restrain him.
The man moved carefully as he placed the cuffs around Stiles's wrists, he looked at Stiles's face, he still couldn't see his son, only the thing that had possessed him, even behind tearful eyes he knew something seemed different about him, he didn't feel the comfort that he felt while in the presence of his son, he felt cold.
As his father took a step back Stiles looked up at him through his eyelashes, a tilt of his head, an evil look that Noah knew his son wasn't capable of, he knew it wasn't his son. The Nogitsune had shaken its head slightly with a disapproving look, breaking free of his handcuffs as if it was easy, as he did four more people walked through the loft door, the backup. Chris and Allison were first to enter the loft, Derek and Malia stood behind them, all with the same scowl across their faces. Even Malia, a girl who hardly knew Stiles, even after Eichen, knew that whoever was standing in front of them wasn't him.
Each of them surrounded the Nogistune, taking turns at an attack. Allison held up her taser to him, hitting him with it, but he managed to catch it, untouched by the electric wires as Allison's eyes grew wide. Void threw her taser across the room with a small scoff. Derek was next to throw an attack at the Nogistune, but Stiles easily grabbed him, throwing him to and forth, slamming his head on the table before tossing him aside as if the wolf weighed nothing. Malia tried to do the same, hoping that in some miracle she might be stronger than Derek, but she met the same fate, thrown to the floor within seconds until she was left with a groan. She much preferred the Stiles she had met in Eichen House, the one who couldn't hurt a fly, let alone two supernaturals.
