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andreafmn · 7 months ago

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I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 19

Word Count: 3.6K

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

A/N: heheheheehehe 🤭🤭

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By the time Stiles and (Y/N) had driven back to the school, classes were over, and students flooded the parking lot as they made their way to their cars. The pair parted ways with a promise to ditch school again one day. Stiles disappeared back into the school, and (Y/N) waited for Isaac to come out of hiding, which she had done for the past week. Yet, time passed, and there was no sign of the blond boy. He’d taken to appear while the crowd was heavy in order to conceal himself, but the parking lot emptied, and he didn’t come out.

Dread washed over her as she pulled out her phone to call him, worry swimming through her veins as the call was sent to voicemail. All she could think of was the worst thing that could happen. Her family had finally caught him, and he was currently being tortured for answers, or worse, he was already dead.

Her vision blurred with tears as the thoughts flooded her mind, guilt gripping tightly around her throat. She had already begun to blame herself for Isaac’s supposed capture. If she hadn’t been his friend, they would never have been able to pin him. Once more, she had gotten too close to someone and had put their lives in danger. As hard as she had tried to protect him, she had failed.

She zoomed through the streets as she made her way home, praying to whatever was out there that Isaac was in her house and had, for some reason, forgotten to charge his phone. As much as she wanted to think positively, she had never been wired that way. (Y/N) had been taught to think of everything that could go wrong in a situation, no matter how unnecessary it could be. Her mind flooded with thoughts of losing the one person she had fully trusted for the first time in many years. She could hear him calling for help, pulling his weight in whatever fight had ensued, giving it his all until there was nothing left to give. But it all ended the same way. With Isaac either hurt or dead.

As soon as she arrived at her house, she dropped her bike on the grass like it had burned her, not caring if it smashed into pieces as it hit the ground. She knew her parents weren’t home. Not only was their car gone, but the family also had them occupied every second of the day. The girl had free range to turn the house over to find her friend.

“Isaac?!” she yelled, waiting for a response that never came. “Isaac, are you here?”

She ran to the basement, not even noticing when her dog had joined her side. Brody barked to catch her attention, but she was focused on her parents’ office. (Y/N) clicked through their computers, searching for any hint in their calendars, any clue in their messages, anything. But there wasn’t even a post-it note out of place. Everything they knew, she had known long before them.

But she couldn’t stop there. If her family had anything to do with Isaac, there would be no evidence. She had to confront them face-to-face and deal with the repercussions afterward. (Y/N) fished for the key of her parents’ weapons cabinet, arming herself with whatever she’d need to take down whoever stood in her way. Even if she got hurt, she would not go down without a fight. The Argents had gone long enough without paying for the things they had done, and it was about time they did.

As she strapped a rifle to her back, she heard a stumble on the floor above. Whoever had been sent to her home had caught the short stick that day. Red anger flowed through her veins as she walked silently up the basement stairs, a handgun tight in her grasp and her loyal dog slowly behind. Nearing the door, she removed the safety from the gun and braced herself.

“Woah, woah!” Isaac yelled as she burst through the door, a gun deadest on him. “It’s just me, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) ran toward the boy without a second thought and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He was there, unharmed, and staring at her like she had gone crazy. “Where were you?” she cried, tears burning her eyes and making their way down her cheeks. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“My phone died,” he said, holding her tighter still. “What did you think happened? Where are you going with al this ammo.”

“You weren’t at school or answering the phone, and I thought my family… I didn’t know.”

“Were you about to light up your family to find me, (Y/N)?” he chuckled, cradling her face in his hands and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe,” she laughed hoarsely. “I didn’t really have a plan in mind. I just couldn’t let them get away with hurting you.”

“Well, I can safely say, stand down, soldier,” he teased. “My phone died, and I was meeting with Erica and Boyd. I would have left you a note, but you left school before I did.”

“Yeah, well, I needed to cool off,” she sighed, taking off the gun she was wearing and dropping the rest of her weapons on the hallway table. “These past few weeks… I just needed a break, and Stiles happened to be there.”

“So, what? He’s your new best friend?” Isaac grumbled as he slouched onto the sofa. “What if something had happened while you were with him? At least at school, you’re kinda protected, but out there? Who knows?”

“You do know I can protect myself, right?” (Y/N) chuckled as she sat next to him. “I may not have supernatural strength or healing, or even claws, but guns and knives can also do the trick.”

“Those healing scratches on your face would beg to differ.”

“I’d like to see any of you guys pull your weight in a fight without all those abilities,” the girl teased. “I, at least, can’t be paralyzed by the Kanima. So, I think I can protect myself good enough.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest and furrowing his brow in annoyance.

But she knew Stiles and her recklessness weren’t exactly what he was worried about. Behind his blue eyes, she could see something else was setting a dark cloud over him. There was worry that hung heavy on his shoulders and concerns that stole his sleep at night. Too many questions ran through the boy’s mind, and no one seemed to have given him the right one.

“Come on,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

Isaac sighed deeply, resting his head on her lap like he had started to do when he needed comfort. “Boyd and Erica are leaving,” he responded. “With everything that’s going on, I don’t blame them. Not having anyone while we’re being chased to our deaths… it’s a suicide mission. Leaving might just be the only choice.”

“Is that what you think? That you’re alone in this?’

“(Y/N), you know I can’t stay here forever,” Isaac reminded her. “We’re lucky I haven’t been caught so far, but your parents are gonna notice sooner or later. I don’t want to put you in a position where you’d have to go against them like you were planning on doing today.”

“Why not, Isaac? I can talk to my dad, and we can find a way to keep you safe. Hell, we could keep Erica and Boyd safe, too. With Allison looking for you guys, it’s not smart to be out in the open by yourselves. I’m sure that with his help…”

“I can’t keep putting you in this position,” he exclaimed. As he sat up, (Y/N)noticed the tears that reddened his eyes. She could tell he was terrified. He had no home, no pack, and an alpha that seemed more lost than he was. The only thing he was sure of was that staying with his best friend made him a sitting duck and a perfect target for her family. “You know, there was a time when I thought my biggest problem would be my father. I never thought that the one thing that got me away from him was the thing that put me in the most danger. “You’ve done more than you can imagine, (Y/N),” he smiled sadly. “But I can’t keep putting you in danger like this. The best thing I can do for all of us is go.”

(Y/N) was quick to wrap the boy in a hug as matching tears fell from her eyes. “I can’t lose you, Isaac,” she said. “We’ll figure this out. Just… you can’t go.”

“There’s nothing else I can do,” he replied softly. “Not that I can think of anyway.”

“Please stay,” she mumbled against his chest. Her voice came out weak and exhausted as she was no longer able to be strong. It had taken (Y/N) so long to find someone she could confidently call her friend finally, and in a matter of months, she was going to lose him. She felt as though the universe was telling her that she wasn’t made for relationships. “I need you, Isaac.”

The pair stayed in each other’s arms as they calmed, unsure what direction they’d be taking next. Isaac hadn’t had someone care about him as strongly as (Y/N) did in a long time. He had forgotten love and care could come from a soft touch and not the hard slap of a punishment. She had reminded him that life wasn’t that scary when there was someone by your side, especially someone that was willing to go against her family in order to keep him safe. The last thing Isaac wanted was to lose her—much less leave her with her while danger still lurked through every corner—but staying only made things worse for her. He knew, no matter how hard, the best decision was to go.

“I’ll talk to Scott tomorrow,” he whispered instead. “Maybe he’ll have an idea of what I could do.”

“Alright,” she sighed against him. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t know what’s going on with him and Gerard, but he seems to always want to do the right thing.”

“I will,” he promised. “But why don’t we go to sleep now? I have a feeling tomorrow is gonna be a very long day.”

Isaac couldn’t seem to catch sleep at all. He watched as (Y/N) tossed and turned next to him, her own nightmares keeping her stuck in dreamland while his kept him wide-eyed.

Before her, he didn’t care to stay in Beacon Hills—hell, he didn’t care if he lived or died. After his brother died and his father’s temper took a turn for the worse, there wasn’t much that tied him to the town. He wasn’t particularly good at school; without his supernatural strength and speed, he wasn’t that good at sports either. Now, his father was dead as well, and he had no home to call his own. Isaac was the perfect candidate for a runaway. Even if he was gone, the town would continue on as if nothing had happened.

Night turned to morning as Isaac tried to succumb to his tiredness, time somehow speeding when all he wanted was for it to stop. (Y/N) was still dead asleep, her arm wrapped around Brody as they both snored softly. If there was anyone that cared about what happened to him, it was her. And she was the only person in the town he truly wanted to protect.

Before she could wake, the boy slipped a t-shirt over his sweatshirt and jumped out the window with his backpack on his back. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but if he decided to leave, a clean break was the best way to do it. Isaac knew if he told (Y/N) he was possibly leaving, she’d find a way to make him stay. Or, even worse, try to go with him. He had to make a choice by that night, even if it hurt.

He knew Scott would be in his usual shift at the vet’s office, and it was a good time as any to pick at his brain about the situation. The door was unlocked when he got there, and he let himself in, flinching as the dogs quickly started barking the second he was inside.

When Deaton and Scott walked around the corner, he was sure they would throw him out. He hadn’t proven to be a good person, much less an ally, and he could understand if they wanted him gone. Instead, the doctor welcomed him warmly, allowing him to join them in the exam room, where the foulest odor reached his nose.

Laying on the stainless-steel table was a small white dog, weakened by whatever sickened it and the very source of the smell. The poor animal whimpered as Deaton injected something into it, and try as he might, Isaac couldn’t help but grimace at the odor. “Why does it smell like that?”

The colleagues looked at each other with knowing smiles before Deaton said, “Scott said almost the same thing to me a few months ago. One day, he could somehow tell the difference between which animals were getting better and which… were not.”

“He’s not getting better, is he?” Isaac questioned, a sudden wave of sadness rushing through him as the doctor confirmed his suspicions. “Like cancer.”

Sickness had a very distinct smell, Isaac learned. It was bitter and musty, almost like smelling a batch of fruit that had been left to ferment for months. The scent gripped his nose, painting the walls of his nostrils with a sample of what came next. Death. And all he wanted to do was to save the poor mutt from it.

“I know you’re well aware of what your new abilities can do for you,” Deaton said after calling the boy closer. “Improved strength, speed, and healing. You ever wonder what it could do for others?”

The vet guided Isaac’s hand onto the dog, pressing it firmly against his skin. Suddenly, black rushed through his veins, crackling under the pressure of whatever was filling his body. “What did I do?” he asked in surprise, feeling as the ooze sank into him.

“You took some of his pain away,” Scott smiled. It was an overwhelming sensation for him. Even if it had been only a little, like Deaton said, it had done a lot for the small pup. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to take more. “It’s okay. First time he showed me, I cried, too.”

But they were tears of joy. Tears of accomplishment. Derek had only been teaching the pack how to be defensive, how to protect themselves and people around them from whatever dangers lurked in the shadows. Yet, there was a world of knowledge waiting for him, and Derek didn’t seem to want to show it to him. At least not while the Kanima was around.

Deaton left then to place the dog back in his kennel, and Isaac found it to be the perfect time to talk to Scott. “They’re leaving tonight,” he said as Scott cleaned. “After the game.”

“So, why are you telling me?”

“I’m not telling you. I’m asking you,” Isaac responded. “I’m asking for your advice.”

“From me?” Scott asked, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because I trust you, and so does (Y/N),” he admitted. “She said you always seem to want to do the right thing, and I agree with her.”

“I usually have no idea what I’m doing,” Scott shrugged. “Actually, I never have an idea of what I’m doing.”

“Well, do you want to let me know what you’re doing now?”

“I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you mean. I have too many people here who need me.”

And those were the words that struck the deepest chord in Isaac. “I guess that makes me lucky ‘cause…” he chuckled sadly. “‘Cause I only have one person, and I’m doing her more harm than good by staying.”

As he stood to leave, Scott stopped him. “Are you gonna go with them?”

“Yeah,” was all he could think to answer. “Yeah, I think I will. Good luck with the game, though.”

“Well, thanks, but I’m not going either. Can’t think about playing some meaningless game right now.”

“You weren’t at practice last week, were you?” Isaac questioned. “And you didn’t hear? Jackson was there as if nothing had happened.”

“That means… the game tonight?”

“Yeah. He’s playing,” he said. “I thought someone would have told you by now.”

“Yeah, no. N-no one did,” he stammered. “You’re sure about this?”

“Mhm, it was one of the last practices I went to before (Y/N) told me Allison had grown the manhunt. It stopped being safe for me to be there. I’ve been hiding out at her place ever since.”

“Is that why you think you’re putting her in danger? Because she cares about you?”

“It’s not what I think, Scott,” he sighed. “It’s what I know. I mean, you have to know what it’s like with Allison and everything. (Y/N) was ready to burst into her family’s house with guns because she thought they had taken me.”

“I don’t know what it’s like,” he answered meekly.

“What do you mean?”

“Allison, as much as she says she loves me, was quick to turn on me when she was lied to about her mom’s death. She’s never believed in us as strongly as (Y/N) has,” Scott admitted. “If there’s anyone you should stay for, it’s her.”

Scott’s words hung heavy in Isaac’s mind as he walked through town, not really sure where to go. Erica and Boyd were more than likely either at Derek’s old family home or already long gone. He couldn’t go to Derek, not when he had something—someone—more important. Being cared for may have been something Isaac had forgotten, but there was someone making sure he remembered it.

He waited until he was sure he wouldn’t be caught before jumping through the window he had left through some hours before, expecting to find the room empty. Instead, he found a frantic (Y/N), sending her phone flying in his direction and tears falling down her cheeks.

“Where the hell have you been?” she exclaimed, her words hoarse from the crying. “I’ve been calling you for hours!”

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I turned off my phone.”

“I thought you were gone, Isaac,” she cried. “I thought you had taken your things and were never coming back.”

“To be honest, I thought I was,” he confessed weakly. “I really thought the best thing would be if I just left without a trace—that it’d be safer for you in the long run.”

“Are you crazy? I was worried sick that something had happened to you. If Allison…”

“None of that happened, okay?” Isaac said as he crossed the room toward her. He placed one hand on her arm and another on her cheek, stopping her body from shaking. “And I’ve decided to stay. I’m gonna fight this to the last consequence.”

(Y/N) looked up at him with teary eyes, relief finally washing over her as she confirmed that Isaac was there, that he was real. “You’re not alone, Isaac,” she said. “Neither are Erica nor Boyd. You just have to let people help. I know it’s a lot, and it’s scary, but you’re not alone.”

“I know that,” the boy smiled. “I know I have you on my side and that the best thing we can do is protect each other. I’m sorry it took me so long to understand that.”

“I thought you were gone for real this time,” (Y/N) confessed after a moment of silence. “I didn’t know what to do. I even almost called Derek.”

“He wouldn’t have done anything,” Isaac sighed. “He made himself clear. Once we left, we were on our own. After everything he’s told us, I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“I think he’s just scared. Facing all of this while taking care of you guys cannot be an easy task,” she said. “I think he wants to protect everyone but doesn’t know how to. Just because he looks older doesn’t mean he is—he’s learning as he goes, just like us.”

Isaac chuckled softly as a warm smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “How can you still be so kind to him after he broke your heart?” he asked. “You should be cursing him out, not seeing his side of things.”

“I’d like to think he had a reason for what he did,” she responded, trying her best to hide her real hurt. “I’d like to think maybe one day things will get better.”

“You’re too kind for your own good,” he said. “You’re something else, (Y/N) Argent.

And for a second, for a split second, his eyes fluttered to her lips. His heart beat loudly against his chest and he felt the sudden urge to know what the pink of her skin tasted like. He wondered if she’d gasp at the suddenness. If perhaps she’d push him away or maybe even kiss him back. All he had to do was move a couple of inches toward her and he could lay his questions to rest.

“You should get ready for the game then,” (Y/N) said, breaking him out of thought as she jumped away from him, pulling out his jersey from her dresser. “If anything is gonna go down, it’s gonna start there. I can feel it.”

“Won’t your family know you’re there as a traitor? I mean, it’s not like you’ve been very active in their work.”

“They won’t kill me in public,” she said. “And if they try, they’ll have one hell of a fight coming for them.”

Next ->

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inlovewithalotoffandoms · 9 months ago

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Quitting?

Scott McCall x Sister!Reader

Stiles Stilisnki x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the help of your brother Scott, Stiles finds out the true "identity" of your "manager", and you confront him.

"Why won't Billy let her go overseas?"

"Sacurity Stilinski, you know that."

"BS! Billy is killing his greatest asset without a reason. So what's the reason?"

"Loomis always has his reasons."

Stiles scoffed and walked out of the room. He then decided to go see Scott for help.

"Stiles, Y/N's not here."

"I was actually looking for Scott."

"Scott's not home either. He went with Y/N."

"Did they tell you where?"

"No. Sorry Stiles but i really have to go to work."

"I think I know where they could be. Thanks Mellisa."

He then went straight to the one place he knows where you are. He opened the door to see you, Scott and Billy talking. When you looked over your shoulder and saw him you ran and kissed him.

"Stiles, hey. Oh I missed you so much."

"Missed you more."

"Uhh, big brother and the manger still here."

Time Skip

"Y/N, hey babe, wait up!" Stiles called out as he ran to catch up to you in the school hallway.

"What is it, Stiles? I gotta go." You tell him.

"He lied," Stiles stated as he got straight to the point.

"Who?" You asked.

"Billy, he lied. There wasn't going to be an International tour because he can't leave the country. He's got no citizenship, no official identity. He's got no passport, no bank account. He doesn't freaking exist." The sarcastic boy ranted.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Stiles?" You asked in an accent.

"He's saying that Billy has been lying to you this whole time." Scott jumped in as he rounded the corner.

Time Skip

"Oh, you blood-suckin' old vampire. You bled me dry, and you still want more?"

"I'm not an uncaring man, Ms McCall."

"Don't you 'Ms McCall' me, you toad!"

"If you are so determined to get out of our contract-"

"You're damn right I want out!"

"Well, I will personally loan you the money that you owe to Jamboree Attractions."

"You-You still have your claws on me! You still have me working here like a damn slave in a salt mine! You phoney, no good piece of trash! And I'll shoot you in your freaking face if I have to!"

After a moment of silence, you spoke up again, "Billy, who are you?"

"I am you, you are me."

"Cut the horse-shit! Everything I've ever known about you's been a lie!"

"Y/N/N, you all good?"

"My past is the least of your problems, my dear. Everyone else you associate with lives from you Y/N, even Scott..That's right even your own Brother has looked after himself before he's looked after you. Yes, I have lived from you too but the difference is you have also lived from me." He then continued, "We have supported each other because we share the dream. We are the same you and I."

"We are not the same! I was innocent before you cane along and screwed me up!"

"I'm out. I'm getting the money and you are gonna leave me, my brother and my mother alone. You got the Billy? If that even is your name."

The was another moment of silence before the older men spoke up again, "Maybe you should fly away, my dear. Away from all of this, but. If you do choose to leave, then I for one would be very lonely, so would your mother and brother. But I think you may be lonely too or you'll see, my girl the truth about the rock of eternity...It is forever, just beyond her reach."

"Hey, Billy!, f u!"

#scott mccall x sister reader #stiles stilinski x mccall reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #scott mccall #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall imagine

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ptseti · 11 months ago

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BLACK IN CHINA VS USA

Julian McCall moved from the United States to China when he was 15. He was expecting police to pull him over while running, wearing a hoodie, but he was pleasantly surprised at the freedom he experienced. According to him, Chinese people and their government don’t associate Africans with criminal activity.

Being an African in the United States, or any country involved in the European Slave Trade of African peoples, forces one to grapple with the legacies of slavery and colonialism, day in and day out. Living like this conditions people to believe prejudice and white supremacist policies are universal.

As he said in his Miami Herald opinion piece, ‘While slavery’s oppressive shadow still shapes American society 150 years after its dissolution, it simply never existed in China. Black people are not a fixture in Chinese history, so my skin generated genuine curiosity rather than suspicion. My Blackness was certainly still Othering but in a much more benign and tolerable way than in America.’

For more on his perspective, please read his 2022 article, ‘Sanctuary: Black in Beijing’ in the Miami Herald.

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takaraphoenix · 6 months ago

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August 23: lost & basement - Derek and Stiles kidnapped together 😈

(you are a horrible person and I love you. here, have our boys kidnapped and tormented, with some extra flashbacks for Stiles)

Tags: m/m, kidnapping, hurt/comfort, Spark Stiles, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave

Main Pairing: Derek/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent

@writersmonth Prompts: lost + basement

Summary: Stiles and Derek get kidnapped by hunters. When Stiles wakes up in a basement, it brings back memories of a different basement and different hunters.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

What Happens in the Basement

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Stiles blinked blearily. His head ached, there was a pounding coming from the back of his head. Where he had been hit. Knocked out. Which was why he felt like shit right now. Something was dripping nearby. He didn't like that sound. Groaning, labored breath. Someone else was here.

He turned his head very slowly. Careful. Bracing himself for what he would find. It wasn't what he expected. Shirtless Derek, strung up on the ceiling.

Stiles' breath hitched as he saw the electricity attached to him. Sending regular shocks through the Alpha, keeping him from breaking loose. He jolted at every shock. Stiles' breath picked up, panic rising in his chest as that stuffy, kind of wet air of the basement and the sound of electricity, the pained grunts of a wolf getting tortured by electricity, sent him back to a different basement.

He could still see Gerard's sneer, feel his boots kicking Stiles' ribs until they cracked, until he couldn't breath anymore and he couldn't breath, he couldn't breath, because he couldn't get Boyd and Erica down, he couldn't free them, he'd tried but the electricity shocked him, nearly knocked him out and then Gerard had come and beat on him and-

"Stiles, Stiles," Derek roared, weaker than usual, but loud enough to startled Stiles back in the now. "Wherever your mind went, don't follow it. I need you in the here, Stiles."

"Basement," Stiles croaked out.

It took Derek only a moment – only, because, they were in a basement so why would Derek understand what he meant – but then understanding lit up those hazel eyes. He growled.

"Stiles, you're okay," Derek spoke softly. "Boyd and Erica are okay. They're probably right now cursing both of us for getting abducted. They're safe. You all got out of that basement. Argent is dead and you're all alive and you're safe. Well… We will be safe, once we get out of here. But for that, I need you in the present day, not in the past. Can you do that for me, Stiles?"

The past. Right. He wasn't that terrified sixteen year old kid anymore who had no experience. He knew how to fight. Him and his pack had been defending this damn town for two years now. He wasn't taking a beating laying down anymore. He was never going to let anyone have that much power and control over him anymore. Taking a shaky breath, Stiles nodded.

"What do we do, Alpha?" Stiles asked, voice sharper.

Compartmentalize. He could have his flashbacks later, throw up and cry all he wanted about the memories and the feeling of being helpless and useless. He could focus on the pain he was in later on too, curl together on his bed, nurse his injuries and bemoan that wolves healed faster. Right now, there were more important things to focus on, like getting himself and his Alpha out.

"How's your flame?" Derek asked in a very low voice.

In case someone was listening in. Flame. It felt weird, that Derek called it that. One would think that Derek had very, very bad associations with fire. But he said that the flame his Spark lit was different. Was good. A flame that kept their pack warm and safe, that burned down their enemies.

Closing his eyes, Stiles concentrated on his magic, visualizing the spark of it. It was dim. Physical injuries tended to drain his magic as it compensated into trying to heal him.

"Running low on fuel," Stiles muttered frustrated. "I'll need… an hour."

Derek grunted his confirmation, nodding his head. "Maybe the pack will find us before that."

"Maybe," Stiles swallowed hard, still tugging on his magic, trying to hurry it.

"And if not, I trust my Emissary," Derek's eyes were too honest, too warm, too much.

Stiles choked on his words. How had he earned that level of trust? How could he love this man so much? All he could give Derek in return was a jerky nod. The Alpha knew how much his trust meant to Stiles. Even though that trust was mutual. They'd saved each other's lives too often over the past two years now. They knew they could always rely on each other, even if there was nobody else. Sure, their pack was strong and loyal, but even without any of the betas, Alpha and Emissary would always be able to back each other up. Even before they were Alpha or Emissary, when they were just Derek and Stiles, a lone beta on the verge of omega and a flailing teen with no magic.

/break\

A couple minutes later, three men walked into the basement. Stiles steeled himself, Derek could tell by the tenseness on the boy. He knew what came next. He locked eyes with Stiles, trying to convey that he was here, that they would get out of this together. He really hoped Stiles didn't remember how they'd gotten here. Because the hunters had shot Isaac, wolfsbane spreading through the blonde, the pup going down, distracting Stiles long enough to drop his magic. The hunters shot Derek next, as he tried to protect his pup and his mate – Emissary – and then they'd been taken.

If Stiles remembered that Isaac was hurt, poisoned, possibly alone, possibly worse, then that would only send Stiles into another panic like earlier. They couldn't afford that. Not right now.

"Last of the Hales," one of the hunters laughed. "You should fetch a good price."

"What do we do with that one though. He's not a wolf."

One of the hunters approached Derek, but the other went for Stiles. And no. No, that wasn't good. That wouldn't do. Stiles needed to focus on his magic and Stiles needed to be safe. Last time he'd been captured by hunters and tortured in a basement had really messed Stiles up. He'd had nightmares for months, Boyd and Erica sneaking into his room to comfort each other.

"I'm the one you want," Derek growled, baring his fangs and flashing his red eyes.

A fist connected with his jaw. Good. Meant they didn't pay attention to Stiles. The third hunter sat on the table, in front of Stiles and Derek. Adjusting the tools that laid out next to him. A silent threat for what came next. Derek ground his teeth together.

"I think," the second hunter spoke, looking at Stiles. "We could have some fun with this one."

"Oh, I'm not fun," Stiles quipped. "Ask anyone. I'm so annoying, I talk too much and you will just have a migraine at the end of it, honestly I think you would do yourself a favor just letting me go."

Why could that boy not shut up once in his life? Did Stiles really not have any self-preservation instincts at all? Derek growled annoyed, glaring at his Emissary. The glare hardened when a fist collided with Stiles' face. Derek was going to tear that hunter apart himself. Nobody laid a hand on his Stiles. A snarl tore from his throat, feral and vicious.

/break\

Scott was fully panicking and he was so glad to have Allison and Lydia right now, because Allison calmed him down and Lydia was the brain. Their Alpha was gone and so was their Stiles and Scott just so did not function well without Stiles, Stiles was his best friend, his brother, what if something serious was happening to him? Plus, Isaac was shot. They'd found him, barely breathing – the hunters must have left him behind, left him for death. Only taking Alpha and Emissary.

"Boyd, Jackson, you go through the back," Lydia instructed. "Scott and Erica, through the front. Allison is in place to keep an eye on everything from above, I'm waiting in the car, keeping it running so we can move fast, in case they're not in good shape. Everyone got it?"

Sharp nods, serious looks from all betas. An attack on their pack, they took those seriously. They made their way into the house, taking the two hunters in front of the television out, meeting up in the living room. Following their noses, they went downstairs to the basement. Scott's heart sank into his stomach as he saw Stiles, battered and bruised and strung up. Erica next to him gasped out a sob, shaking a little. Within seconds, Scott was next to them, freeing Stiles.

"Stiles," Scott whined. "Are you alright? Are you in a lot of pain?"

Even while he said it, he drained Stiles' pain. A pleased smile spread over Stiles' face as he collapsed into Scott's arms fully boneless. Scott looked over at Derek, watching Jackson and Boyd take their Alpha down after turning of the electricity. Right now, Derek looked even worse. Once the electricity stopped, Derek would heal faster.

"Hey, Batman," Erica's voice was shaky. "H… How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"Der took the brunt force," Stiles muttered, glaring at the Alpha. "Kept mouthing off. Worse than me, I swear. I have never heard him talk that much. Idiot."

Scott heaved a sigh. Why was Stiles like this. He was going to bring Scott into an early grave. Wrapping an arm securely around Stiles' waist, with Erica on Stiles' other side, he helped Stiles out and toward the car where Lydia and Allison were waiting for them.

"Time to get home," Lydia chimed, eyes on Stiles and Derek in the back. "You'll be fine."

And somehow, she made that sound like an order. Nobody argued with Lydia Martin.

/break\

Isaac had gotten hurt. Stiles' face fell when he saw the bandaged beta. Hobbling over to him, Stiles curled around the blonde and buried his face in Isaac's neck. The blow to his head had distracted him from how exactly he had received that blow. Isaac whined and snuggled up to him.

"You're alright," Isaac sighed relieved, nuzzling him. "Derek?"

The Alpha grunted and came to lay on Isaac's other side. "I'm alright. You're alright too, pup."

Erica, Boyd and Scott practically brawled over getting to lay closest to Stiles, while Allison, Lydia and Jackson accepted to lay on Derek's side. Just like that, the pack was one puppy pile. Stiles loved those. He smiled contently as Erica wrapped an arm around his waist, Boyd having a hand on his arm from where he had Erica sandwiched between himself and Stiles. Scott was half laying on Erica so he could also wrap himself around Stiles. They were fine. His pack was fine. Safe.

He started shaking as the tears he'd locked away earlier broke free. Nobody commented on it, they just held him, quietly, knowing he needed to process what had happened today, what had happened a year ago. Derek on Isaac's other side scooted higher, high enough so he could lean over and nuzzle Stiles' face. His lips brushed against Stiles' cheek in a gentle kiss and it gave Stiles pause. He turned his head ever so slightly, enough to align their lips. The kiss was short and not how Stiles had ever pictured, but it was even better because it was comfort, reassurance and love.

"You're alright, Stiles. We're all going to be alright," Derek whispered and kissed him again.

~*~ The End ~*~

#Teen Wolf #Sterek #Sterek Fic #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Hale Pack #Kidnapping #Stiles Summer Stories 2024

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emo-nova · 8 months ago

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A very minor thing, I started season 2 (Wahoo!) And finally *FINALLY* someone, IDK WHO, BUT SOMEONE FINALLY TAUGHT SCOTT HOW TO STYLE HIS HAIR

It has been such a minor thing about his character, possibly intended to show how he didn't fit in with others, that his hair was floppy and like very baby 1D hair style has been bugging me. Mainly because it really didn't go with the actors' faces, once more possibly to show how different Scott is to other popular people like Jackson and Danny, the new one definitely does

Next major thing, I wonder how long the writers can tell me that Scott McCall's undying love for Alison Argent is going to continue? I am indifferent to Scott and Alison's relationship, to any shippers that are watching this, I do not get it.

Scott and Alison are fine apart, together they don't give me as many emotional beats, Scott saying in season 2, Ep 1, that all that was on his brain when he transformed the first time was Alison, only Alison and that's it.

Maybe it's because I have never felt that all-consuming love, slight obsessive love that I no longer consider 'no' a full answer when someone doesn't want to associate with me. But then again, I'm in a happy relationship with another girl, where I listen intently and understand where I went wrong and communicate with. Really, I could never understand him. :|

Stiles, once more, coming in clutch with the ideas, the theories and generally good ol' competence! Thank you, you sarcastic genius, I will always love you, unless you go creepy. Then I will reconsider >:(

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #alison argent #yelling into the void #im not shipping anyone yet in this series #though i am seeing the appeal of Sterek mainly because the two have an interesting dynamic

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thexphial · 11 months ago

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An excellent rundown from The Stranger on JKR's Holocaust denial. As a Jewish woman who lost actual family in the Holocaust, her twisting of the narrative is genuinely offensive and harmful.

Hey all, it’s Vivian. If you've freed yourself from wandering the wasteland of weirdos and robots on x.com, you may not have seen a series of tweets from JK Rowling about trans people and the Nazis. Rowling first questioned if Nazis ever burned research on trans people (they did) and then linked a thread excoriating problematic grandaddies in the field, implying that trans medicine carried on a eugenic or Nazi legacy of human experimentation (it doesn't). I really hate inaccurate history, so I called someone who actually knows what the hell they're talking about, University of Washington's Laurie Marhoefer, the leading expert on trans people and the Nazis. You just can't unpack this complicated, nuanced bit of history in a tweet.

A memorial in Tel Aviv dedicated to the LGBTQ victims of the Holocaust. URIEL SINAI / GETTY

Yes, JK Rowling, the Nazis Did Persecute Trans People

We Asked the Leading Expert on the Topicallot Initiative Success in Western VIVIAN MCCALL Last week, children's book author JK Rowling tweeted some more nonsense about transgender people. In this case, she disputed the fact that Nazis destroyed early research on the community:

Despite Rowling’s dismissal, it is an established fact–not a fever dream–that the Nazis persecuted transgender people. And it’s not the first time this debate has come up on social media. Denying this history is part of an overall effort to discount the discrimination trans people still face in their pursuit of fundamental rights today. It is important to remember the truth and to evaluate what research we have, especially at a time when far-right attacks against trans people are increasing in the United States and elsewhere.

The Looting and Burning

In 1933, the Nazi-supporting youth with the German Student Union and SA paramilitary looted the Institute for Sexual Science (Institut für Sexualwissenschaft) in Berlin. The institute collected the earliest known research on gay and transgender people, and it helped people obtain legal name changes, medical treatments, and “transvestite certificates” from local police that allowed them legally to present as their gender.

Days after the looting, Nazis took to the streets to burn the 20,000 books looters found inside the building, and they placed a bust of the institute’s founder, Magnus Hirschfeld, on the pile in effigy. Hirschfeld was out of the country at the time, but he later died in exile in 1935.

In the years that followed, trans people were busted under German laws criminalizing sodomy and wearing clothes associated with their birth sex. They were imprisoned in concentration camps before and after the start of World War II. Some were murdered there. Others escaped with their lives.

We’ve Been Here Before

Since Rowling posted about the subject on x.com, misinformation about trans people in Nazi Germany has circulated widely. Some people have also claimed that the discussion of trans victims of Nazi violence distracts from the “real victims” of National Socialism. In light of this discourse, I called the leading researcher studying trans people and the Nazis, University of Washington professor Laurie Marhoefer.

“My first reaction was, they’re totally wrong,” Marhoefer said of the posts. “They’re not even in the ballpark. My reaction 1.5 was, ‘Oh this is eerie, the same thing happened in Germany two years ago.’”

Back in July of 2022, a graduate biology student named Marie-Luise Vollbrecht, who was known for her “gender critical” anti-trans views, made headlines in Germany.

She tweeted that the Nazis had never targeted trans people, and to say they did “mock[ed] the true victims of the Nazi crimes.” People responded with a hashtag that claimed she denied Nazi crimes. Vollbrecht filed a lawsuit against some of them, claiming their hashtag violated her rights and basically called her a holocaust-denier, which is a crime in Germany. She lost her case, and, after parsing the historical facts, the court officially recognized trans people as Nazi victims. A few months later, Germany’s parliament issued a statement recognizing the queer victims of Nazis and of post-war persecution.

We Don’t Know Much, but What We Do Know Is Grim

That ruling aside, this history is by no means complete. Scholars still don’t know much about the lives of trans people in Nazi Germany. Researchers have only recently started to study the subject and to undo false assumptions that cis gay men and transgender women were essentially viewed as the same in the eyes of their oppressors.

Through years of research and the review of published literature, Marhoefer has identified 27 criminal cases involving trans men, women, and gender nonconforming people in Nazi Germany. Locating them is hard work, and it requires parsing heaps of documents in non-keyword-searchable archives to find police files on a very small group of people that did everything in their power to avoid police detection. Marhoefer has 30,000 Gestapo files on their laptop alone. The little we do know, so far, is grim.

According to research from Marhoefer, beginning in 1933, Hamburg police were instructed to send “transvestites” to concentration camps. A person named H. Bode lived in the city, dated men, dressed in women’s clothes, and once held a “transvestite” certificate. After multiple public indecency and public nuisance convictions, she was sent to Buchenwald, where she died in 1943. Liddy Bacroff, a trans sex worker in Hamburg, died at Mauthausen the same year. Officials sent her there because she was a “morals criminal of the worst sort.”

Essen police ordered Toni Simon to stop wearing women's clothes, as she had done for years. She served a year in prison for disrespecting police officers, hanging out with gays, and speaking against the regime. The authorities called Simon a “pronounced transvestite,” and a Gestapo officer said placement in a concentration camp was “absolutely necessary.” She ultimately survived.

Unlike today, Marhoefer said, trans people were never a front-and-center political issue for the Nazis, nor were they rounded up in the same systematic way as Jews or the Roma. Nevertheless, the Nazis did specifically target them for their gender identities. On a fundamental level, transness was incongruous with Nazi ideology, a hyper-masculine fascism that emphasized purity and traditional gender roles.

The enforcement of moral laws prevented them from living as they did in the Weimar Republic era, the democratic government in power before Adolf Hitler and a time of limited acceptance. Magazines, nightclubs such as the Eldorado, and nascent organizations for trans people were shuttered. The state forced detransition, revoking a permit from at least one person named Gerd R. and driving them to suicide.

“I think we expect the crackdown, and then it’s all over their media, but it’s quiet,” Marhoefer said. “How many in a camp do we have to find before people will be like, ‘Okay, there was persecution?’”

While the Nazis did not often discuss transness much, at least one 1938 book, Ein Beitrag zum Problem des Transvestitismus, provides some idea of how party officials thought about trans people.

Author Hermann Ferdinand Voss described trans people as “asocial” and likely criminals, which justified “draconian measures by the state.” Nazi rhetoric also linked trans women and pedophilia, which mirrors the contemporary allegations from conservative Republicans about trans and queer people “grooming” children.

When they came after Hirschfeld, who was gay and Jewish, propagandists also framed homosexuality as a Jewish plot to feminize men and to destroy the race. Years before Nazis stormed his institute, the pro-party newspaper Der Stürmer labeled him the most dangerous Jew in Germany, which brings us to another point Rowling shared in a thread on X.

Problematic Granddaddies

After x.com users told Rowling that Nazis did, in fact, persecute trans people and burn research about them, she accused people who corrected her of valorizing Hirschfeld, rather than doing what they were actually doing, which was simply correcting the record.

Indeed, Hirschfeld, the granddaddy of the gay rights movement and a pioneer for trans health care, was a eugenicist. Furthermore, the early practitioner of vaginoplasty, Erwin Gohrbandt, who operated on Lili Elbe of The Danish Girl fame, was a Nazi collaborator connected to Dachau.

History rightly doesn’t look back on eugenicists and Nazi collaborators fondly, but those facts have nothing to do with whether or not Nazis persecuted trans people or burned research.

Apparently unsatisfied with spreading historical misinformation in one instance, Rowling followed-up with a tweet that directed users to a “thread on the persistent claims about trans people and the Nazis.” The thread implies that trans medicine is eugenic or Nazi in some way, and it draws a false connection between gender-affirming care and tortuous human experiments in the camps.

Broadly, the thread argues that early trans medical care constituted medical malpractice and the development of a new kind of sterilization in the form of gender-affirming genital surgery, and it contends that Gohrbandt performed his early vaginoplasties with the same regard for humanity as he displayed in his later work with the Nazis.

But the beliefs of these flawed medical pioneers have no bearing on trans people or trans politics, and conflating modern gender-affirming care with this early experimental treatment ignores the state violence trans people faced at the hands of the Nazis.

Despite Hirschfeld’s contributions to the field, people are right to criticize him for seeing the world through the lens of eugenics, even if that view was common in the 1930s.

Marhoefer literally wrote the book on his eugenic beliefs. Hirschfeld thought that gayness was eugenically beneficial because queer people did not reproduce, but he made no eugenic arguments for or against his work with trans people. He dedicated one of his books to eugenics, and he believed they sat at the heart of the science of sexology. And while he was critical of scientific racism, you can find anti-Black statements in his work, too, Marhoefer said.

Moreover, while Hirschfeld’s writings suggest he empathized with trans people and wanted to alleviate their suffering, he still staked a career on them. He photographed trans people in demeaning ways and trotted them out for demonstrations in front of other doctors.

It’s important to remember that Hirschfeld did not invent or create transness. The community existed before he discovered it, and the trans people themselves were not advocating for eugenic sterilization. The man was a trailblazer, not a saint. In fact, his approach to trans medicine laid the foundation for a system that forces people to jump through hoops for medical care. To this day, the majority of people who do trans medicine are not transgender themselves, and they do not always have the best interests of trans people at heart, Marhoefer said.

Gohrbandt would certainly make a list of medical practitioners who did not always have the best interests of trans people at heart. The pioneering plastic surgeon’s career bloomed along with his field, which quickly advanced to treat disfiguring battlefield injuries from World War I. He did not work at the institute, and because the surgeries were still very rare, he didn’t make a living performing them, Marhoefer said. We can count on one hand the number of gender-affirming surgeries he performed.

Unlike the Jewish and leftist doctors he worked with, Gohrbandt did not have to flee Germany. He endorsed the regime and later became the chief medical advisor for the Luftwaffe’s sanitary services division. In 1942, he participated in a secret conference on the results of fatal hypothermia experiments performed on Holocaust victims, and later reported the results in a German surgical journal.

Marhoefer said it is not strange that a future Nazi worked with progressive Jews on gender-affirming care in the 1920s. Many German doctors backed the regime and committed atrocities because they wanted careers.

There’s no defending Gohrbandt, but his path does not suggest anything unique and nefarious about gender-affirming care. It says more about the heartbreaking situation these trans people found themselves in when even the few doctors they could turn to for medical care treated them with disdain.

Marhoefer said doctors of the day took advantage of desperate women such as Elbe, Dora Richter, and Charlotte Charlaque, who was Jewish and fled the Nazis. They endured experimental surgeries with no oversight before antibiotics, patients’ rights, or ethics protections. Many doctors saw them as a means to an end in the overall development of plastic surgery.

What All of This Is Really About

Trans persecution is simply one story in a much larger one about the Holocaust. Trans people today who point out this history as right-wing attacks against them intensify around the world are not erasing the murder of Jews and Roma in concentration camps, or the extermination of disabled people, or the deaths of millions of Soviet POWS in Nazi Germany’s murderous campaign to seize eastern territory and farmland.

But this conversation is not really about Nazis any more than constant squabbles over gender-affirming care are about children. Nor does it honor victims of Nazi crimes.

No information, scholarship, or detailed account of a complicated history can satisfy someone who is fundamentally opposed to a person existing as they do. No number of mainstream medical organizations that again and again defend the efficacy of gender-affirming care can assuage their doubts. The benchmark for correctness is constantly moving and shifting, and the argument has no logical endpoint.

Meanwhile, ordinary trans people who rise to their own defense are labeled activists and needled for their wording, or their temperament, or their appearance, or the smallest misstatement.

At the same time, people like Rowling expect transgender laypeople to possess the knowledge of Holocaust researchers, of doctors, of psychologists, and of public policy experts. Every week, it seems, anti-trans interests push out another poorly researched hit meant to undermine the community’s existence in some way. It is trolling, and it is exhausting, and that’s all it is.

#jk rowling #jkr #holocaust denial #book burning #magnus hirschfeld #anti-trans rhetoric

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