Voiles Week Day 5: Stockholm syndrome
"Your flesh is mine, your will is mine" Void whispers in Stiles ear as it wraps its arms around his shoulders as Stiles sat cross-legged in front of the Nemeton between his captors legs. Stiles dared not to speak, in fear of getting the bandaged demon upset. The Demon suddenly grips Stiles' hair, forcing him to look at a darker version of himself. Stiles slightly winced at the pain.
"Right, Stiles?" The Clone chuckled as he smirked and he released his prisoner's hair. He knew Stiles would answer any moment now. Just like a good Pet.
"…" Stiles stayed silent as he looked at himself in anger but it disappeared almost instantly when he realized what he was doing.
His darker version's eyes darkened in anger as he raised his hand, as if to hit Stiles on the head. Stiles closed his eyes as he waited to be punished. The prisoner simply felt a hand gently ruffle his hair, which confused him greatly. He disobeyed him, so why didn't he get hit?
"Got you" The demon smiled, when Stiles finally opened his eyes to look at him.
Was that a joke?
Yes.
It was always a joke from the very beginning.
Stiles began to laugh as he laid his head down on the demon's thigh.
"I'm yours" Stiles smiles as he looked up at his own face.
"Good Boy" Void smirked as he petted his pet's hair.
"You're a nice fox, aren't you?" Stiles said quietly to the Trickster Demon.
"I guess so, Stiles" Void chuckled darkly "I guess so…"