Okay so again, on anon with teenwolftoday, I had a bit of a revelation. (My Tumblr app won’t let me send things off of anon? Does anyone else have this problem? Anyway…)
We know there was a heavy emphasis on the riddle, “Everyone has one, but no one can lose it.” The answer given is ‘shadow’, as we know. And that made sense in the context.
However, there is another solution to this riddle.
The other answer is 'name'. Now any other time, I’d totally dismiss this as them choosing the response that best suits their needs. But which character are we dealing with here? What is the mystery that hangs around Stiles Stilinski? The thing that…hell we don’t even know if Stiles himself can pronounce? The thing that they purposefully showed his doctor withholding while they were in the very room that Stiles would soon be fully possessed? In the very room that he would soon be asked this riddle?
But what could this mean? My theory is this: Stiles’ name will play an integral role in him being released from the influence of the nogitsune.
The first clue was Holland’s quote (which I first thought would mean we were due to be seeing some Mama Stilinski) stating that Stiles saying, “Thanks mom,” was hugely foreshadowing. Now of course there’s also the possibility that she was talking about his saying it to Melissa specifically, but that’s just an entire other story.
Because who, specifically, did the Sheriff say that name came from? His wife’s side of the family. Stiles’ mom.
What power is there in a name though? Ah that’s what’s interesting.
See there is a belief in Japanese mythos called “Kotodama”, that states mystical powers dwell in words and names. In essence, this belief assumes that a name can be used in ritual to affect everything around us. The environment we live in, the people in our lives, our bodies, our minds…
And our souls.
Derek can feel his blood roaring under his skin as he flicks through different-colored files to find one specific word. He sorts through stacks of paper and even tries looking it up on the internet but it’s not there, it’s not anywhere. He’s at the police station with a STILES STILINSKI file in his hand, the first name blacked out in sharpie and he’s about to tear the whole building apart if he doesn’t figure this out.
His phone beeps and it’s a message from Lydia.
He’s nervous and he hasn’t been nervous since Gerard had been around. His phone beeps again and this time it’s Scott calling. Derek shuts the phone off completely. He needed ten minutes of uninterrupted silence but he was Derek so that wasn’t happening. A man in a police uniform entered the room and looked at him with hope.
"Anything, Hale?" He asked. The precinct wasn’t thrilled about having Derek there but after Stiles ran off, followed by the Sheriff’s disappearance, they were looking for help from anyone that offered.
Derek stared at the files and didn’t look up when he replied. “No, Stilinski never mentioned it?”
The man, Barrow says the name tag, shakes his head. “Only ever called him Stiles, didn’t tell anyone…and now that the Sheriff’s gone…” He didn’t continue, merely cleared his throat and slipped out of the office.
Derek tried focusing on the mountain of paperwork in front of him and got so engrossed in one of the medical reports regarding Stiles’ mother that he didn’t pay much attention when the door opened again. He didn’t look up, merely waited for his new guest to state their business.
"How can no one know this kids name?" Derek snapped, still skimming over details.
"Derek, Derek, Derek, didn’t anyone ever tell you what curiosity did to the cat?" A cold, calculated voice hissed.
He was on his feet before he even met Stiles’ eyes. Only it wasn’t Stiles. His back was straighter, shoulders higher, eyes blazed with knowledge and threats. He was smiling but it was only half his mouth turned up in a curt, evil grin. His hair was less tidy and his nails weren’t bitten down like they usually appeared — it definitely wasn’t Stiles. Derek could see the tinge of red his aura had taken on. What used to be white and gold wisps of air and light surrounding Stiles was now murky and cloaked with another’s presence, something darker and with evil intent.
"You need to leave." Derek replied smoothly. He knew the power of the nogitsune and didn’t want to give it any reason to become enraged.
"You can’t find it, can you?" Stiles — not Stiles, not Stiles barked out a sharp laugh. “You’ll never find it, Derek. He’ll never be free.” Even though Derek had been trying to resist, the confidence in the demon’s voice weakened his resistance.
He rounded the desk, coming closer and closer to the thing in front of him. The amber eyes stared back, almost widening in surprise at Derek’s advances. Good, Derek thought. He’d wanted a reaction.
"He’ll be mine until I’m done with him, Derek." The demon spat out of Stiles’ mouth. "Until I decide I’ve used him enough."
Derek had a hand outstretched, and shoved him back into the wall with one push. Stiles collided with it and the half-grin he’d been sporting formed into a full-on smirk.
"And when I’m all done with him, Derek, wanna know what I’m gonna do with him?" His eyes were glowing now, glowing.
"Shut up." Derek said gruffly and grabbed his neck, claws exposed and digging into soft flesh.
The demon forced out a laugh, wheezed and gruff. “I’m gonna make him mine, Derek. I’m gonna do what you never had the guts to do. I’m gonna love him and take him over and over and tell him that no one else will ever love him like I will.”
The demon narrowed his eyes and leaned forward more into Derek’s hold, testing him almost. Derek tightened his grip and the demon let out a restricted gasp.
"Then I’m gonna slit his pretty throat and dump him in a ditch." Stiles whispered.
SLAM, Derek shoved him into the wall. Stiles coughed and grabbed for Derek’s hand.
And Derek could see the demon slip for a second, could see the gold and white colors and the good in Stiles come out and then he was shouting.
"Derek, Derek he’s holding me by my — " Stiles’ body seized up and the demon was back. "Ah, ah, ah, I don’t think so." The demon had Stiles smile so wide that it was almost twisted and ugly.
"What’s his name, Derek?" The demon laughed, and it grew louder and louder as he continued. "What’s. His. Name?" The demon roared with Stiles’ voice.
Derek let him go and jerked back. The demon laughed so hard that he doubled over, hands braced on his knees. When the laughter finally tapered off he stood upright and adjusted his shirt, slowly and casually like he had all the time in the world.
"No more games, Derek." He licked his lips and held his hands out. "It’s time to wake up."
The demon clapped his hands together, only it sounded louder than thunder and Derek jerked awake in the office chair he’d passed out in. He was breathing heavy, panting almost and felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
Had he really been asleep?