dear teen wolf
Why wasn’t Allison the one possessed by the nogitsune?
You had it, right here, the perfect death scenario. Why wasn’t everything that Stiles did this season done by Allison instead? Losing time and terrible possessions, rapid switches between teary eyed innocence and smirking malevolence. I realize you have a giant collective crush on Dylan O’Brien’s everything (I understand, I do), but have you seen Crystal act?
Allison as the nogitsune. That scene where Silverfinger warns Chris Argent he might have to kill his daughter comes back to slay us. She plays Scott like a fiddle, impales him in the vet clinic, smirking as wet dark hair falls across her cheekbones—imagine this, okay? Kidnapping Lydia. What a betrayal that would be, coming from Allison’s hands. What a blow for Lydia, to watch something living in her best friend’s skin, sidling close and leering, cutting deep. I want those scenes.
An Allison consumed from the inside by a foreign darkness would be beautiful. Or rather: an Allison struggling against it— that’s always been her story. She is trying so hard not to be Kate. So much of her arc has been fighting that darkness; embracing her terrible strengths and turning them to the light. (She takes the brutal, vengeful code of her forefathers and turn it from a bloody blade into a shield).
Instead of Stiles inheriting his mother’s illness, Allison inherits her aunt’s darkness, her mother’s brittle vengeance. Give me this.
And do you see what this would get you? Instead of an insipid “surprise” death, a useless one—we get the sacrifice. We get a season of buildup, of earning, of this warrior born of dark bloodlines and old scars, of this young woman who loves so hard, who is so terrified of being her aunt—
Her friends will keep trying to defend her from the oni, to save her from the fox— Lydia pleads and listens and searches; Scott tries so damn hard to be a hero, to find a way to keep his promises. Chris Argent crumbles and crumbles from the inside out, burning within the way his sister burned without.
But in the end, Allison stands, grappling for a moment of control against the darkness inside her. There is blood on her hands. It is not hers. The thing in her chest promises chaos and pain, screams for it, the way she can hear Kate’s voice sometimes at night. COME ON!
She knows there are some battles you cannot win. Or, rather, Allison knows protecting other people is the victory, no matter the cost. Protecting other people is something worth dying for. Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger leurs-même.
"Do it," Allison tells her father. She is an Argent and she will live by her code.
She will die by it.