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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months

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Study Buddies

isaac lahey x reader

summary: isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.

tags: high school, studying / tutoring, mutual crushes, awkward flirting, caught in a lie, shyness, embarrassment, play fighting / tickling, bad puns, confessions, first kiss, teasing, fluff, pre-wolf isaac; his dad still sucks; autistic-coded reader

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is my first time writing for teen wolf. I feel like I'm encroaching on claimed territory. 😅 also i've had this tab up for almost a week but have been afraid to post it, so here goes

Mr. Harris slides your progress report down onto your desk before you have a chance to react, and it catches wind and falls to the ground a moment later. You sigh and roll your eyes, but he’s already halfway across the room, impatiently handing out the rest of his stack. Your own little slip of paper is nowhere by your feet, and you resist the urge to make a remark about it.

“Hey.” A voice interrupts your intruding thoughts at the same time a tap lands on your shoulder. Gentle, as if the tapper hates to disturb you, yet needs your attention.

You turn, and temporarily forget about your lost report as your eyes meet Isaac’s, the boy who sits behind you, and has the cutest smile imaginable. You drop your gaze instantly, only for it to fall on his dimpled smile, and then, finally, on the paper held between two fingers.

“I think this is yours,” he says, holding it out to you.

Your name is clearly printed on the front, followed by your most recent grades in the class. You blush, immediately remembering it had dropped in the first place.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problem. He seems like he’s in a mood today.”

You nod, then take your paper from his hand. By this time, Harris has made his way back to the front, and is clearing his throat in a demand for the class’ silence. Quiet mutterings amongst friends cease at once, and you turn back to face the ill-tempered chemistry teacher.

“Take a good look at your progress reports. The midterm is coming up, and some of you have more studying to do than others. Today, we will be learning new material, but next class period, we will have a review day. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask at the appropriate time in class, or come see me after school, or shoot me an email. Regardless of your grade, everyone should be studying, however, some of you have to move up a whole letter or two. That is on you to be aware of, and for you to put in the effort to do. Now, pull out your notes so that we can cover this section. It isn’t the hardest thing we’ll cover, but I expect it will be a struggle for some.”

And after that condescending introduction, he begins to teach.

When the bell finally rings, your head is swarming with so much chemistry, your eyes are beginning to glaze over and put you to sleep. You’re relatively good at the subject, but that topic was more challenging than he warned it would be, making even you confused at times. You shake your head when you reach your lockers, trying to relieve yourself of the numbers swirling about in your mind. It takes a moment. A very stressful moment.

A tap on your shoulder, more urgent than the last, pulls you out of your mental headspace. The chemistry bounces out of your mind entirely, bringing you back to reality, but making you jump in place at the sudden contact.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice apologies, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

Turning, you come face-to-face with Isaac again. His normally bright blue eyes are slightly cloudy, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. “No worries. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I have a question, actually, to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at your report, I didn’t mean to see your grades. I accidentally saw them when I picked up your paper, but I promise I wasn’t looking on purpose.” He stalls, continuously apologizing for something not at any fault of his own.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt as politely as you can.

He pauses, “um. I was wondering if you could help me? Like, in chemistry. Help me study, kinda like a tutor, I guess?”

You pale immediately. Just because you’re doing okay in the class doesn’t mean you have a clue how to help him understand. “Um-”

“Just… I just need a little help, if you can. I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… I don’t know… are busy.” He runs his tongue along his lips nervously. You snap your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know… I’m not a good teacher.”

“But you’re really good in the class. Probably a better teacher than Harris has been lately.”

You chuckle, but you’re still not sure. Being that close to the boy you’ve liked for ages? On top of not being able to teach well? He’ll reduce you to a stupid, stuttering mess, just look at yourself now, unable to look him in the eye. No, don’t look at him, that was rhetorical.

“I just,” he continues, “when he was talking about people who needed to go up a whole letter, he was talking about me. I know you’re good, you sit in front of me. If you can even just explain it to me as you study, it would help a lot.”

Half of your mind races to find an excuse, looking for an out, while the other begs you to agree. Isaac shoves a hand in his pocket and waits for a response. You debate with yourself for a moment, but then the urging part of your mind wins the argument with a question of its own.

“What about this,” you start, “I’ll help you in chemistry, if you help me in French?”

“What?” He asks, taken off guard. “I’m not good at French.”

“You’re better than me. You have the answers to most of Ms. Morrell’s questions, and I can hear you when she asks us to recite words out loud.” His eyes narrow at that, to which you reply, “you sit behind me in French, too.”

“Right.” He smiles, but doesn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he rests his head against the locker beside yours.

“So?”

“How do you know I’m not just guessing?”

“What’s your grade?”

“A,” he sheepishly answers.

“See? You can tutor me.”

“What’s your grade?”

You purse your lips and avoid his eyes again. “Too embarrassed to say.”

“Really?”

“Languages aren’t my strong suit. We all have our strengths.”

“Alright, deal. Help me in chem, and I’ll help you with French.”

“Sounds good. Library, or at one of our houses?”

“I can probably go to the library sometimes. Maybe during lunch or free period. But after school, I have lacrosse, and you probably don’t want to wait around school for that to be over.”

“Okay, so then your house or mine?”

“Where do you live?”

“Like ten minutes from here. You?”

“A bit closer than that. Parents?”

“Don’t really care what I do.”

“My dad is a little controlling,” he admits.

“Would he care if I were to come over?”

“Not if you’re helping me study.”

“Okay. You want to meet a couple times a week at your house, and sometimes during lunch?”

“Sure. Practice ends around five. Is seven too late?”

“Not for me.”

“Cool. So, um, I’ll text you, and we can plan dates.” He shakes his head. “I mean, like, what days work best.”

You blush at his embarrassment. “Have to give you my number first, doofus.”

“Oh.”

You scribble it onto a sticky note and hand it to him. “Let me know.”

“I will. And thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You hurry your way to your next class, leaving him red in the face and hands at having a girl’s number. Granted, it’s just for studying, but it’s the fact he was able to talk to you at all that has him shaken. Isaac forces himself to breathe, before entering it in his phone and tucking the sticky safely in his backpack. As the bell rings, he hurries to his next class.

~~~~

The next evening is the first time you meet up to study. You drive to the address he’s given and knock on the door as gently as possible. Isaac had mentioned his dad is controlling, so the first thing you want to do is to avoid pissing him off in any way you could. Controlling could mean a lot of things, and the boy wasn’t specific at all. For both of your sakes, you tread lightly.

Isaac opens the door a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. You try really hard not to blush as he invites you inside, but then his dad’s strict voice snaps you back into reality. You can see Isaac take a visible deep breath before rounding the corner in the kitchen, you in tow. You put on your best look of professionalism while trying to anticipate how the next couple of minutes might go.

“And? Who was it?”

“Y/N, the girl I told you I was studying with… with whom I am going to study,” he corrects at the last minute.

His father’s posture tenses a bit less when his son corrects his own grammar without prompt, but it doesn’t stop his cold eyes from floating over to you. “And you’re studying what?”

“Chemistry, sir. I’m helping Isaac, and he’s helping me with French.”

“And you know French well enough to help her?”

“I believe I do,” he says, trying to sound confident.

“I think he does, too. In class, he always has the answers, and Mrs. Morrell’s often impressed, and she’s hard to impress more than once.”

“Hm.” His dad takes a sip from a glass, then carefully sets it down on the table. His eyes are locked on Isaac the whole time. The boy stares at the ground, any confidence shaken by the interaction. You study the scene, confused. “Well… Go study. Bring up those grades.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply at the same time.

Isaac nods for you to follow him to his room, which you oblige. His dad remains seated as you make your way up the stairs. You bite back a comment about the man, even in the safety of Isaac’s bedroom, and he doesn’t say anything, either. The same remark is in both your heads, yet while you want to ask it in a question, he wants to use it as a reassurance. Yes, he’s a bit more controlling than Isaac originally said. No, he won’t do anything stupid while you're there. He tries to convey this in an expression, which you half-understand, but eventually drop it. If anything happens, you’ll leave. Simple as that.

As it turns out, the first night of you studying together ends up nothing like the initial interaction you had in his house. Isaac is gentle, patient, and willing to learn and teach the best that he can. He’s admittedly worse in chemistry than you are in French, but you’re able to convince him that you only need to work on a few things; an hour of time doesn’t have to be devoted to your studies, maybe only twenty minutes. On the contrary, the other sixty are put towards chemistry. And, of course, the first five are for settling in, and the last five are for uncontrollable laughter at a mispronunciation.

Thirty minutes to nine, you realize how late it’s gotten and start to pack your things. Isaac looks exhausted, and frankly, as much as you’re enjoying his company, you’re getting tired from talking.

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He asks, rather quickly.

You stare for a moment, then, “what?”

“Vendredi.”

“Thursday?”

“Non.”

“Friday?”

“Oui, rencontrer?”

“Meet then?”

“Yeah, would you like to?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Say it again?”

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He says it slower this time. It has the same effect on you, but you can comprehend each word better.

“Cool,” you say, not at all thinking about his accent that paints the words so beautifully. “I’ll bring my H2O, since I forgot it this time.”

The boy snorts with more laughter. “Bad joke.”

“Absolutely horrible,” you agree. “See you in school tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.”

“Be safe,” you reply before you can stop yourself, referring to his dad downstairs.

Isaac only nods. He walks you to his front door, then hurries back up to his room.

~~~~

Each day you study together follows a similar routine to the first: five minutes to settle in, sixty of chemistry, twenty of French, then five of joking around with each other. Sometimes Isaac pushes for thirty of French instead, worried that you’re sacrificing your own studies for his, and never understands when you push back that you’re good with only twenty.

His chemistry improves immensely with your help. In three weeks, he manages to pull it up to a ‘C’. Not only is his father a bit more lenient to him after the next progress report, but he’s also more pleasant to you the next time you come around to study. He even cracks a smile.

Today, you go over just the same as you have been. Seven on the dot, you’re greeted by his dimpled smile and half-friendly father. The man has now graduated to welcoming you, and has once clapped you on the shoulder as you’ve passed. You’re polite to him, though you can tell Isaac’s uncomfortable with his unusual behavior, so you always try to retreat upstairs as soon as possible. This time, he’s busy with something in the kitchen and doesn’t talk for long. He makes one comment about grades; you promise him you’re both doing well, then he lets you go.

Finally away, it doesn’t take long for you to settle down anymore. You make yourself comfortable on Isaac’s bed, pulling out your notes and pens, and smiling when he joins you. You’ve come to be good friends in the last couple weeks, and although there’s something definitely in the air, too, you’re good with being friends if that’s all you can convince yourselves you are.

You start, per usual, with chemistry, reading over notes and figuring out problems. He moves closer and closer to you each day you teach, simultaneously making you nervous and excited. Either way, your water bottle remains beside you to calm your ever-growing heart rate. When it comes time to switch subjects, you excuse yourself a minute to recover and prepare for the next half hour. In the beginning, it was easier to hide your blush, promising you’re still getting the hang of the co-teaching thing. Now, your excuse dwindles. The shy smile you wear as he recites words of the love language has never faded. You have to compose yourself entirely, elsewhere, to be able to control your reaction and face him.

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Yeah, just over there.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Isaac jumps off the bed to check his hair in the mirror. In the process, your French binder falls to the ground and loses its page. The boy sighs, mutters an ‘oh shit,’ then pulls it back up to find the page again. He opens the flap and immediately finds a stash of old progress reports. You seem to keep all of your old ones in the front flap of your binder; he’s noticed you have all your chemistry reports, too. Curious, Isaac steals a peek. Despite confessing about his ‘D’ in chemistry, you’ve always cheekily refused to share your French grade. He doubts it’s that bad, but he’s never gotten you to admit it.

He glances at the bathroom door, then checks the date on the report before scanning the grades. Guilt eats at him the longer he looks, but nosiness, then confusion keeps his eyes glued. Is he really reading that right? There’s no way you have a-

“Sorry about that,” you say, closing the door.

Startled, he drops your binder and looks up at you. “It’s no worry.”

“What’s wrong?” You notice his change in behavior, like a young boy being caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Nothing. Your binder fell off the bed, I was picking it up.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles when you join him back on the bed. You’re not sure if you still have a right to be suspicious, or if he’s just embarrassed because he’s so shy. “So, um-”

Isaac, on the other hand, is brimming with questions. As anxious as he is that you caught him peeking, he can’t help but wonder about what he saw. You start to speak, maybe to change the subject, but he cuts you off, guilt and curiosity both winning. “You have an ‘A’ in French?”

“What?”

“You’ve had an ‘A’ since the start of the year. Why do you need me to tutor you if you already know it?”

You shut your open mouth immediately, face paling at the realization you’ve been caught. “I-... I don’t know. Your grades are better than mine.”

“By one point.”

“Two points. You have a 94. I have a 92.”

“Doesn’t explain the need for a tutor,” he argues.

You study him, choosing to base your reaction off his own. He’s smiling; seemingly happy, curious, and not at all upset. His tone implies no accusation, just confusion, and his body posture is straight, shoulders relaxed. A twinkle shines in his baby blue eyes; his level of eye contact is neither constant nor avoidant. He’s safe.

“I, um,” you decide to tell him the truth. Or, rather, stutter out the truth. “I don’t need a French tutor.”

“So I’ve gathered.” Decisive tone, yet still friendly. Still safe.

“I figured, since I would help you with chemistry, even though I’m not that good of a teacher, if you had to teach me something too, it would put less pressure on me to be a good teacher.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay… but why French?” He’s still a little confused on that reasoning, but doesn’t question it. He knows you’re shy. If that’s what you had to do to make it work that you could help him, he doesn’t mind.

“I, er, well, the French provided a win-win scenario.”

“Which is?”

You shrug, body warming quickly as you near your deeply guarded secret. “I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Mhm, really?”

“You’re best in French,” you offer instead, on a whim.

“True,” he agrees, “though I feel that’s not the real reason, judging by your lack of eye contact.”

“I’m always bad at eye contact.”

“You’ve been getting better with me these last few weeks.”

“Yes, but…”

“I’m not going to judge, Y/N. Whatever you say, it’s safe with me. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then how is me teaching you French a, as you call it, win-win scenario?”

Finally, you fess, “because I get to hear you speak it every time you teach me.”

Isaac’s quiet for a moment. Then, you realize it seems to have gone over his head as he says, “you hear me speak all the time in class.”

“Yeah, but… with twenty other voices mixed in, too. I like hearing just your voice. The way you know just how to sound it out perfectly, and the way your accent flourishes each sentence. Most people in class sound like they’re gurgling saltwater, but you make it sound hot, like the way French is supposed to sound.” Your mouth utters words before your brain can catch up and prevent you from embarrassment. As soon as you realize what you’ve said, a dizziness swarms your head and it feels like the temperature’s gone up ten degrees.

Isaac is speechless in front of you. He’s first stuck on the fact that you like his voice, then on his pronunciation being described as perfect, but then he short-circuits as the word ‘hot’ falls from your lips. He doesn’t even realize when you plant your face into your binder, shocked by your own confession.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. It’s muffled, but he hears it enough to pull him from his trance.

“You like my voice?” He asks, cursing himself for the stupidity of the question. It’s all he can think of to say, though, still trying to cool his own rising body temperature.

“I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he blurts out quickly. “I’m actually quite charmed by that.”

You resist the urge to look up at him, desperate to see if he’s smiling or not. Isaac seems to have a similar thought, and tries to hook a finger under your chin to lift your head. He succeeds, but then you instantly embarrass again, and dive for the pillows, burying your face amongst them.

“Oh no, get back here,” he jokes. You feel him before you look out to see him. His hands shake your shoulder, but when you don’t respond, he playfully starts to tickle your neck. You scrunch and try to scramble away, but he only continues. “C’mon.”

“I can’t!” The words have finally sunken into his head; the weight of them falls on your chest.

“Oh, yes you can!” He teases more, moving pillows away from you, just for you to grab another and bury back under it. When Isaac realizes there’s no use in trying to win the pillow war, he swings a leg over yours and begins to tickle your stomach. Your shirt has begun to ride up from your movement, and temporarily, he forgets you’re classmates, not longtime best friends. “C’mon, give it up!”

“I-I can’t!” You’re running out of breath, and pillows. He pulls another away from you, then puts his hands back on your sides. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but only do you open them because of the unfamiliar feeling of him touching you. A beat skips in your heart at the sudden, unexpected realization that he’s not only touching your skin, but he’s also straddling your waist. You swallow hard. He pinches your side lightly, shocking you back into reality, and making you grab another pillow to hide your face again. Before you can grasp it, Isaac grabs your hands and pins them above your head. You pant, heart racing a mile a minute. His too, as you can hear in the moment you both grow quiet.

“You think it’s hot when I speak French?”

“No, I think you’re hot when you speak French. There’s a difference.”

“Is there now?”

“The temperature of the room doesn’t get hot, it’s you that gets hot.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Not that you’re not always hot… I mean, sometimes, you’re more like a cute little puppy than a hot, French-speaking…” your words fade as your brain catches up, faster this time, yet still not fast enough.

“Am I now?”

What’s done is done, you figure. Can’t take it back now, can only admit it. “Yeah.”

“Huh. So all this time, you’ve been teaching me chemistry, and I’ve been talking pointlessly while you listen and learn nothing?”

“When you word it like that, it sounds bad.” A pout graces your lips as guilt floods you. “But I have learned some things. I was struggling with direct objects, and now I’m not.”

“Ah. So I’m not totally useless?”

“Never. You wouldn’t be useless even if I knew perfect French.” Before he can reply, you continue. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I wasted your time when we could’ve been doing more chemistry.”

“Darling, too much chemistry and my brain woulda exploded. The French lessons are a nice intermission. Besides, I wouldn’t consider any time with you as time wasted.”

“Really?”

He drops your hands and they fall back down to your waist. He seems, then, to realize he’s still on top of you, and begins to climb off. “Sorry, I-”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Can I confess something else?”

He pauses. “Sure, anything.”

“I would’ve been okay with just tutoring you chemistry, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye long enough to do it well.”

“You’ve been doing great with the eye contact thing. I know it’s not your strong suit, but you’ve made a lot of progress these last couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “It’s not only that.” A heartbeat passes. “I like you.”

“You like me?” His eyes narrow before he assumes only, “you like my voice.”

“No, I like you. I mean, yes, I like your voice, but I like it because I like you.”

“Like me, as in…”

“Like I have a crush on you.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog. “On me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I’ve never had anyone have a crush on me before,” he admits.

Now you’re confused. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know!”

“That’s stupid. Never had anyone admit it, maybe.”

“I’d never know.”

“Well I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade.”

“You moved to Beacon Hills in the seventh grade.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?”

“Very secretly.”

“Huh. Well I’ve liked you since the first day of school,” he confesses.

“I’ve liked you since orientation, so I win.”

He smiles, then shakes his head playfully. “So I sit behind you in classes for years and only finally get the courage to talk to you when I’m borderline failing chemistry, and you only get the courage to talk to me for more than one minute if you can convince me to talk half of the time that we’d be studying together.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And my portion of the talking is in French, because you think my accent is hot?”

“Your accent is always hot; your French is hot on its own.”

“Ah, I’m following now.” He chuckles, letting his fingertips grace your hips.

“So,” you ask, “as two people with several year long mutual crushes on each other, what do we do next?”

“Well you’re the one that’s been tutoring me chemistry, love, I’m hoping you have the answer.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wrong kind of chemistry, dork.” You reach your hands up to the sides of his face anyway, and pull him down for a kiss. Isaac complies immediately, setting one hand down beside you, while the other caresses your chin. Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him close until he starts to pull away, needing air. You let go, then hide your face as his own turns a rosy pink.

“That was worth the wait,” he says, smiling, and touching a finger to his recently-kissed lips. “Êtes-vous d'accord?”

“Shut up,” you tease, pushing him slightly. “Chemistry time.”

“We just had chemistry time. It’s French time now.”

“No, we can skip a round,” you insist, unsure you can hear anymore French fall from his lips without folding and kissing them again.

“On the contrary, I think you need to sharpen your vocabulary.”

“I think I’ll need a water break first.”

“That we can do,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure to get yours with extra ice.”

“Shush!”

#i feel like i'm cheating on kai #but i promise kai isn't going anywhere!!#nor are the mikaelsons - those for which i'm trying to write more #i have simply ✨ added ✨ another man to my collection #y'all i spelt his name wrong so many times writing this #have i ever mentioned i had a crush on a boy named isaac in my junior year of hs?#he was a twin #anyway #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf fanfiction

276 notes · View notes

lfzyxf · 5 months

Note

Could you please write some isaac lahey fluff, maybe about reader wearing his sweater?

I'm so excited to write for Teen Wolf again. Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope its to your liking! Masterlist Word count: 1480

It’s easy to forget that even in Beacon Hills, California the weather gets colder during the winter. So easy that you’re now sitting in class shivering and struggling to focus on whatever Coach is saying. You pull the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your hands before rubbing them over your hands, trying to warm yourself up.

After a few more seconds of trying to warm yourself something in the corner of your eye grabs your attention. You turn slightly to see it’s a cardigan being handed to you by Isaac. You’re not that close to him even if you wish you were, you mostly got to know him when he became friends with Scott. But even then, you were too shy to actually try and get to know him better.

You hesitantly move to take the cardigan before smiling softly at him. All he does in response is wink at you before turning back towards the front of the class. Holding the sweater in your hands you feel how soft it is, you recognize it as well. It’s a long grey and black striped cardigan. You recall it being his favourite with how often he wears it.

Finally, you put it on, instantly feeling a lot warmer. The sleeves fall past your hands which makes you roll them up. When you look back up you see Isaac staring at you, a soft smile resting on his lips and his cheeks tinted a soft pink. You smile back at him before finally focusing on whatever Coach is going on about this time.

After an incredibly boring 40 minutes class is finally over. You quickly rush to grab your stuff so you can make it on time for your next class on the other side of the building. You barely make it on time, plopping down in your seat next to Lydia. “Did you run here?” she asks looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Basically, I don’t know who made my schedule but when I found them-” she interrupts you, pointing at what you’re wearing “is that Isaac’s cardigan?”.

Shocked you look down; you completely forgot you were wearing his cardigan. “I-uh, yeah. I was cold during class, so he lent it to me. I completely forgot to give it back.” You explain while Lydia just stares at you with a smug look on her face. “He just happened to notice you were cold and offered you his favourite cardigan?”

Your cheeks start to feel warm; you shake your head while playing with edge of the cardigan. “I’m sure it didn’t mean anything to him, he was just being friendly I’m sure” you reason. She clearly doesn’t agree as she just shakes her head right as the teacher walks in.

Classes are finally over for today causing you and Lydia to walk back to your lockers with excitement. The group is going over to Scott’s place to hang out for the rest of the day. When you arrive at your lockers the others are already waiting on you. Stiles is leaning against the locker next to yours with Scott next to him, they’re talking to Allison about something. You quickly open your locker, stuffing your books into it. “Is that a new cardigan?” Allison asks confused, pointing at it. You don't get a chance to respond before a different voice responds, “It’s mine actually.”

You quickly turn around, and behind you is Isaac, leaning against the locker next to you, similar to Stiles. He smiles at you before asking, “I hope it kept you warm?” Your brain takes a moment to catch up before you respond, nodding “Yes, yes it did thank you! I’m sorry for running off with it, i had to run to make it to my next class and I just completely forgot about it.” Your cheeks are heating up again as he looks down at you, eating up your every word.

He shakes his head softly “Nah don't worry about it, you look better in it anyway. Wouldn’t want you to freeze either” he says before standing up normally “are we leaving?” He asks nodding towards the exit. There’s a moment of silence before Scott speaks up and we leave to go to his place for the scheduled hangout.

While making your way to Scott’s place Allison and Lydia hang in the back with you. “So, what was that about?” Allison asks smiling. You shrug “I have no idea-” “he clearly likes you” Lydia interrupts. You push her softly before shushing her. “Maybe don’t talk about it so loudly?” you say with wide eyes, glancing at Isaac hoping he didn’t hear anything with his heightened senses.

Lydia simply rolls her eyes while Allison puts her arm around your shoulders. “Why don’t you just ask?” You stare at Allison for a moment before replying, “Are you actually insane? Do you need medical help?” She laughs before shaking her head “You won’t know until you ask.” You sigh softly, looking at the ground “What if he doesn’t like me like that? It would just get awkward between us.” “But what if he does” Lydia responds, she’s smiling softly at you, a comforting look in her eyes. “You can’t let this opportunity go to waste just because you’re scared.”

You take a breath before nodding “I’ll talk to him about it later.” The two girls smile at you until Stiles interrupts the sweet moment “Can you guys walk any slower?”

Stiles is terrible at Mario Kart, that much is clear by the fact that he’s lost 3 times in a row. He still refuses to give up, convinced that he’ll one the next round against Scott. You stopped playing after the 2nd round, your head started to hurt from how loud Stiles screams when playing. Lydia and Allison are sitting on the sofa watching Scott and Isaac absolutely kick Stiles’ ass in the game. Even after another round of losing Stiles is convinced he can win so he goes up against Scott once more. This time Isaac doesn’t play, similarly he complains his head is starting to hurt. “I’m not even that loud!” Stiles retorts, or more so yells. “Yes, you are” all of us reply in turn.

You’re still laughing when Isaac walks up to you, crouching so only you can hear him. “Could we talk for a moment?” He asks looking up at you. You nod briefly, wondering what on earth he would have to say to you in private. “Of course,” you stand up before following him to the kitchen, moving to sit on the countertop with him leaning against the kitchen table.

The both of you stay silent for a moment, tension high in the air. “So, what did you want to talk about?” You ask softly, playing with the hem of his cardigan that you’re still wearing. It takes another moment for him to respond, “You know, when I first met you, I was wondering why on earth you were even talking to me. I was an absolute nobody, I barely had any friends, and I wasn’t doing great in lacrosse.” He sighed before continuing “After Derek bit me I was convinced I could finally ask you out. That you would finally want me like I have wanted you. But even then, I was too scared, I couldn’t get myself to tell you how I felt.”

He moved closer to you, his hand moving to cover your cheek before softly caressing it. “But today I finally had the guts to make a move, and when I saw how adorable you looked with my cardigan on, I knew I had to tell you. But then you ran out of class, and I missed my chance. So, I’m telling you now because I’m not missing another chance.”

He moves even closer, your knees pressing against his legs. He tilts his head down to look into your eyes before he speaks once more “I really like you-” he laughs softly “Honestly, I think I might be in love with you.” You can’t hold back your smile; your hands move to rest on his chest when you ask if he��s being serious. He nods, his head dropping down to rest against yours. “I feel the same way” you laugh, “I was too scared to say anything.” The two of you laugh for a moment. Finding the fact that both of you felt the same way but were just too scared to say anything incredibly stupid.

“Then, could I ask for the honour of being yours?” He asks, smiling at you, his cheeks painted an adorable red. You quickly nod in response, smiling before finally kissing him. His hands move to hold your face, the two of you enjoying the moment until you are once again interrupted by Stiles screaming in victory as he finally wins a game.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #Isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fluff #teen wolf fluff #daniel sharman #request #isaac lahey imagine

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 7 months

Text

TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

*DISCLAIMER: SOME STORIES MAY BE TAGGED FOR WRONG DEMOGRAPHIC (ie, Not GN, male or fem) IF SO, PLEASE POLITELTY INFORM ME SO I CAN FIX IT

SCOTT MCCALL

Escaping Theo's Pack (Scott McCall X Male!Reader)

Looking Out (Scott McCall X Male!Reader)

Senses (Scott McCall X Reader)

STILES STILINSKI

Change In Appearance (Stiles Stilinski X Sister!Reader) (Feat. Sheriff Stilinski.

DEREK HALE

A Boy And His Mother (Derek Hale X Fem!Reader)

Interuptions (Derek Hale X Reader)

COREY BRYANT

The Pack's Little Sister (Corey X Sister!Reader)

Resurrected (Corey X SIster!Reader)

LIAM DUNBAR

Watching Out (Liam Dunbar X Male!Reader)

Pickup Lines (Lian Dunbar X Fem!Reader)

THEO RAEKEN

Back Home (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

Staying (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Gone (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

It's My Job (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Scarf (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Join The Pack (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Not The Only Banshee (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Hiding (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Keep You Safe (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Helpful Hand (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Blind Love (Theo Raeken X Blind!Male!Reader)

LYDIA MARTIN

German Transfer (Lydia Martin X Fem!Reader)

Position (Lydia Martin X Fem!Reader)

COACH FINSTOCK

New Teacher (Coach Finstock X Fem!Reader)

Overqualified (Coach Finstock X Fem!Reader)

One Smart Cookie (Coach Finstock X Teen!Reader)

Being Coach Finstock's Daughter And Being A Beast At Sports Would Include...

JORDAN PARRISH

Not Feeling Good (Jordan Parrish X Reader)

CHRIS ARGENT

Moving In (Chris Argent X Teen!Fem!Reader)

PETER HALE

Have You Ever Heard Of Knocking (Peter Hale X Male!Reader)

Under The Weather (Peter Hale X Male!Reader)

MULTIPLE

Protection (Scott McCall X Male!Reader X Isaac Lahey)

Photographs (Corey Bryant X Sister!Reader, Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

The Flu (Teen Wolf X BabyBrother!Hale!Reader)

#Teen Wolf #Masterlist

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renjunniex · 1 year

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Venomous

Prompt: Apparently knowing what the creature is doesn’t really help when you don’t know how to stop it. Derek, however, seems to have a plan that’s going to cause a lot of trouble for everyone.

a/n: guyssss super excited for this because this chapter will be the start of WAYYY more Isaac and y/n!! anyways hope you guys like it! let me know what you think 🤗

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You were searching through your locker looking for your textbook but your mind was also currently very distracted. The night of the game was a stressful one, even though you did end up with more information of what the scaly murderer was. A Kanima, you still remember the conversation from that cold night crystal clear.

“Is that even a language?” Stiles commented frustration dripping from his words.

“How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is,” questioned Scott as you scrolled through the contents of Gerard’s hard drive.

“It’s called the Kanima.”

You felt yourself sneer at the approaching pair, you three faced the Alpha and Beta. You crossed your arms like it was some kind of armor against them. “You knew the whole time,” Stiles concluded.

“No. Only when it was confused by its own reflection.”

“It doesn’t know what it is,” you said letting your arms dropped to your side eventually. Derek gave a sharp and small nod, “Or who.”

“What else do you know?” Stiles asked.

“Just stories. Rumors.”

“But it’s like us?”

“It’s a shapeshifter, yes. But it’s not right. It’s like a…” he hesitated. You shuffled, the whole discussion making you uncomfortable. You mumbled slightly as you fixed your stance, “An abomination.” Derek looked at you before nodding once more. He gave the signal and Erica and him began to leave but Scott stopped them, calling Derek’s name. “We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents.”

“You trust them?”

“Nobody trusts anyone,” you felt your voice rip out of your throat before you could even think, “That’s the problem.”

“While we’re here arguing about who’s on what side, there’s something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us, and it’s killing people!” You could here the clear stress coming from Scott as he lectured Derek. “And we still don’t even know anything about it!” Scott’s point made Derek’s expression harden.

“I know one thing. When I find it, I’m gonna kill it.”

SLAM!

Your whole body jumped as your locker was slammed shut. Behind the now closed locker door was Stiles, panting, he grabbed your wrist before starting to rush you towards the classroom. Once you reached the door, he let go of your wrist and crashed into his seat leaning over Scott's shoulder.

"Dude, I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news."

Scott gestured ahead of him, "I think I already know."

Isaac.

You, on the other hand, didn't respond. You just stared at the now filled seat. In your now slightly unfocused vision, you could see your two best friends turned towards you. They were waiting on your reaction.

Letting your eyes carry themselves over to the boys, you gave an awkward smile before slowly making your way to your usual seat, right behind the curly haired werewolf. The teacher's voice could be heard as class began but your focus was only on the leather jacket wearing boy in front of you. You could practically feel the arrogance radiating off of him. It made your blood boil. You didn't understand him anymore. One minute he was the shy and nervous boy you had always known and then the next he was as cocky, if not more so, than the current Erica. It made you wonder if everything he has said to you since his transformation has been an act. Could you trust anything he said anymore?

You felt two pairs of hands on your shoulders, waking you from your frenzied thoughts. You hadn't even realized the bell ringing or the students leaving. You had daydreamed the whole period. Glancing to meet Scott's eyes before shifting to Stiles for a moment, you could see the sympathetic looks they were giving you.

"Don't look at me like that, please," you uttered quietly as if your voice would shatter the world if you spoke too loudly. You finally rose from your seat, gathering your things before motioning to the door. The boys took their designated spots on either side of you before Stiles began speaking.

"Alright, I only found one thing online called the Kanima. It's a were-jaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

Scott's eyes widened slightly, "That thing was not a jaguar."

"Yeah and I'm not exactly a murderer," Stiles pointed out. You felt yourself smile at the two boys as you witnessed the exchange.

"Yeah, but you did see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you. And it's still trying to kill you, and it probably won't stop until you're dead," Scott concluded walking away as Stiles stopped in his tracks.

A cackle left your mouth as Stiles called out to the werewolf boy now in the distance, "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this 'friendship'." He air quoted as your laugh continued to echo through the halls. Stiles scoffed at you before placing his hand on your back and pushing you forward.

Little did you know, your laughing and Stiles had distracted you enough that you didn't notice the blue eyed werewolf standing nearby staring at you, longingly.

You three had finally made it to Coach's class, taking your seats, you guys began setting up for the period. Sadly for you, you had gotten stuck behind Stiles meaning next to you sat... Jackson. Who, unfortunately for you, was here today. He rushed in sitting in his seat.

"Hey, testicle left and right." You saw the boys' forms physically change from annoyance at the rich boy's voice.

"What the hell is a Kanima?"

That question made all three of you jump and look at Jackson. Then a slam could be heard, followed by Coach's voice.

"Okay, listen up. A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult... I'm not even sure I could pass it." He took a breath before continuing, however, you weren't listening and neither were your friends as you three turned back to Jackson.

"Paralyzed, from the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like," Jackson snarled his head whipping back and forth between you three.

"I'm familiar with the sensation," Stiles commented unamused. You snorted earning yourself a glare from Jackson.

"Wait..." Scott paused, "Why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

"How should I know?"

"Do they think it's Lydia?" Stiles urged. Jackson shrugged, "I don't know, all I heard was her name and something about chemistry."

"JACKSON!" Coach screamed, catching your attention. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Umm... Just an undying admiration for my... My coach."

"That's really kind of you," Coach said sarcastically. Jackson held a high and mighty look on his face but Coach ruined it before he could bask in his made up glory.

"Now, SHUT UP! SHUT IT! Anybody else?"

Once Coach had turned back towards the board, Scott's hands were grabbing Stiles' collar and your sleeve tugging you both to him.

"How do we know that it's not her?"

"We don't," you said. Stiles gave you a look before speaking, "Because I looked into the eyes of thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see fifty percent evil."

You scoffed, "Oh yeah, cause that's helpful."

"Alright, maybe sixty. You know, but no more than forty on a good day."

"Stiles, that's not a very good argument," Scott replied.

"I'm aware of that, but I swear it's not her. It can't be, alright? Lydia's fine."

"On another note, please never become a lawyer," you joked earning a light smack on the head from Stiles.

You three were interrupted by Coach calling the red haired girl's name. If by fine he had meant completely out of her mind, then Stiles would be right. She had tears running down her face and she was gasping as if she just awoke from a nightmare.

"Okay then, anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?" The call reply in laughter.

Behind Lydia, on the chalk board, were letters she had written. You immediately recognized them to just be backwards, when flipped they spelt out 'SOMEONEHELPME'. Apparently you were the only one to see that.

"What is that, Greek?"

"No, actually, I think it is English." Stiles showed a photo of the words and then flipped them.

"You needed your phone to read that?"

"Derek is not gonna kill her without proof," stated Scott as you three walked into chemistry. "Alright, so he tests her like he did with Jackson, right? But when and where?"

You saw Erica and Isaac walked into class right then, their eyes immediately shooting over to you three. Your arms shot out, the backs of your hands tapping their abdomens. They both looked at you, turning in the direction of where you gestured. Scott panicked, "I think here and now."

You saw the different expressions on their faces Erica look determined and confident, ready for a showdown. Even though Isaac gave you an unsure look, he was the one to start the duo's advancing. You felt your body throw itself forward as you rushed to beat them to the seat, which you did, you gave them both a snark before giving Lydia the best smile you could without showing how nervous you were.

A second later both Stiles and Scott joined you, Scott on your side and Stiles on Lydia's. You gave them panicked eyes and all you did was receive two shrugs. Lydia looked startled, glancing at you with questioning eyes and when you gave her no answer she rolled them before turning her attention to her textbook.

Allison walked in not a moment too later, definitely surprised to see her usual spot taken by you. She looked to Scott for answers as she sat at the other table across. Scott nudged his head backwards and she got the messege.

"Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.'" Mr. Harrison took a pause patting Stiles' shoulder, "I myself have encountered infinite stupidity." He walked to the front of the class as he continued his lecture, "So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one." You could practically feel Stiles' annoyance from the man's words.

"Erica, you take the first station," you heard the rustle as almost everyone raised their hands, clearly trying to volunteer themselves, "You'll start with..." Harrison had stopped due to the show of hands, you glanced around the room seeing everyone but you, Allison, Lydia, Stiles, Scott, and Isaac raising their hands.

"I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down." His eyes met your table, "Start with Mr. McCall. Alright, next two." You felt Scott tense beside you as students started to shuffle when being called, you placed your hand on his arm trying to offer comfort.

"Ms. (L/N), you're with Mr. Lahey."

Your head shot up, eyes wide, you sucked in a breath. You gave both Stiles and Scott worried looks before slowly getting up and moving to the seat that was previously occupied by the blonde werewolf. You sat with a huff and Isaac's head tilted towards you.

"Hello there, beautiful, long time no see."

"Don't," you whispered. He had his head leaning on his elbow, he slid his elbow down the table his face now in your eye line, "Oh come on, you haven't missed me?"

"Stop acting like this is some kind of sick game," you said harshly, your voice low so no one could hear you. He smirked before straightening his posture to start working. He sat there quietly measuring with a smug look on his face. You finally turned to him when you couldn't handle the silence anymore.

"Whatever your plan is, please, just leave her alone," you pleaded. He sat down the beakers before facing you, he brushed a hair out of your eye, "Do you even like her, why do you care?" You scoffed, the audacity, who cares what you thought of the girl. Killing someone was wrong, why couldn't he see that?

"Just because I'm not close to her doesn't mean I can just toss her life away. She doesn't deserve that," you took a pause and finally made eye contact with him. His face softened ever so slightly, you could've convinced yourself that you had imagined it. But you hadn't, he almost looked like his old self. "Just please, stop, you don't have to do this," you spoke softly.

"Sorry, but I have to do this, Derek's orders."

Ding!

"Switch!"

You got up quickly, when you saw Scott sit with Lydia you headed to a station that was empty. You took a deep inhale and shook your hands, you hadn't noticed until now, you were shaking.

The screech of the seat sounded next to you meaning someone was now accompanying you at the station. You looked to your side only to feel a sense of dread, it was Erica. She was definitely the more aggressive of the two betas... at least when it came to you that is.

Trying to mind your business you just grabbed the measuring tubes and began to mix what you were being told. "You know, I don't see what he sees in you."

"Excuse me?"

"Isaac, I don't understand what he sees in you. To be honest, you seem quite boring."

You gave her a sickly sweet smile, "Well, I'm deeply sorry to disappoint but I couldn't care less of what you think of me." She shrugged, "Just saying considering how many hoops Derek has to jump through to keep him in line simply because of you, I figured there would be something interesting there." You raised an eyebrow at her words, what the actual hell was she talking about?

"I don't know what you mean."

"What I mean is that anytime you're in his eyesight he gets all mushy and Derek is concerned on his loyalty, so if I have to create some distance between you two myself I will." At this point you had one hand gripping the desk so hard to keep yourself under control. You whipped your head to finally face her.

"And what the hell is that supposed to insinuate?"

"I'm just saying, maybe the event of a hurt friend would take your mind off of him for a while."

You lightly slammed your palms on the table, "You lay one finger on any of my friends and I swear to everything, I will break every bone in your body and grind them into dust." You felt her hand grab your arm, her claws digging into your skin, her eyes glowing. You winced and you felt yourself get slightly fuzzy. You were losing what little control you had. You could feel the familiar heat from your eyes, there was no doubt they were glowing as well. Without thinking you grabbed her clawed arm with your free hand, you could feel heat radiating from your palm. She instantly let out a pained groaned, letting go as the bell dinged once more.

You got up, looking at your now slightly bleeding wound on your forearm. You looked for a seat only to see that Isaac was already sitting with Lydia. Frantically, you looked for Stiles and Scott only to find them sitting together. They gave you panicked looks and you returned it as you sat at another table.

Your eyes did nothing but burn holes into Lydia's and Isaac's backs as you watched him interact with her. He didn't give any noticable signs that he has trying to do anything to her, yet that is.

"Time. If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal." You indeed were looking at a crystal, you turned back to the boys only to see them looking at their glob and then Scott casted his attention to the red head and beta across from you. You joined him in leading your eyesight over to the pair to see Isaac picking up the crystal, observing it, and then offering it to Lydia.

"Now for the part of that last experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy, you can eat it."

Lydia took the crystal from him and your eyes widened in realization when you could faintly see the clear viscos liquid on it. Glancing at your crystal still in the beaker you confirmed what you were thinking. The kanima's toxic, they had put it on the crystal.

"LYDIA!"

You jumped at the booming sound of Scott's voice and you weren't the only one. Lydia and the rest of the class projected their attention onto the boy, who was quickly embarrassed and dismissed Lydia's question before sitting back down. There was nothing you could do. All you did was sit back and watch as she ate the crystal. You waited for the sound of her dropping to the floor due to paralysis but...

It never came.

You led the dark haired trio into Coach's office, locking the door behind you with the keys Coach gave you at the beginning of the year. You four were currently radiating every ounce of stress possible.

"Derek's outside waiting for Lydia," Scott said as you turned to face the group.

Allison gave Scott a worried look, "Waiting to kill her?"

"Well he's sure not waiting to give her a hug," you commented scratching your forehead out of frustration, you looked at Allison for a second, "Sorry, just frustrated." She gave you a nod of reassurance before looking to Scott again for answers.

"If he thinks she's the Kanima, then yes, especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not her," Stiles affirmed.

You groaned slightly, "Stiles, come on."

"She didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened," Scott spoke softly but it did nothing to convince Stiles, "No, it can't be her."

"It doesn't matter, because Derek thinks it's her," Allison finally gave in with a sigh. You scoffed, "Yeah and with Derek's severe lack in brain power, that's all he needs to justify his order to kill." Allison gestured to you in agreement. "Either we can convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

"I really don't think he's gonna do anything here, not at school."

The dark hair girl shot back instantly, "What about after school?"

There was a moment of silence between all for of you as you all exchanged looks. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong," Allison asked.

"By three o'clock?" Stiles and Allison started began a back and forth.

"There could be something in the bestiary."

"OH! You mean the nine hundred page book written in archaic Latin that nothing of us can read? Good luck with that."

"Actually, I think I might know someone who can translate it," she finished.

Scott stuttered slightly, "Uh, I can talk to Derek, maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her."

"In the mean time, we could get Lydia to our house, neutral ground. It would be safer, plus I could maybe buy us some time to get her there." You pulled out the dusty book that's been stuffed in your bag since you've gotten it. "I've been practicing," you finished.

Scott took a second to look at you three before letting out a sigh, "But if anything happens, you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean," Allison stared at the werewolf.

"I mean you guys can't heal like I do. I just don't want you getting hurt." Allison deadpanned before pulling her crossbow out of her bag

"I can protect myself," Allison rebutted. You and Stiles let them have their moment as you placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. You saw him fiddle with the crossbow that Allison sat down but before you could stop him, an arrow shot out and towards Scott. Luckily he had caught it in time.

"Ah, sorry. Sensitive trigger on that." You smacked his head before dragging him out of the room, where you guys tried to go about the rest of your day.

Stiles had some how gotten Lydia to agree to a study group, which led you to being dragged through the library with them two. She shrugged him off before heading off in front of him. Allison caught up with you eventually and then you felt another presence. You looked over your shoulder to see Jackson following you as well. You didn't even bother to question it, the uptight boy always had his reasons for his actions and you've never been able to make sense of them.

"If we're doing a study group, why don't we just stay in the library?"

"Because we're meeting up with someone else," Stiles gave her shoulder a light pat and Lydia made another argument, "Well, why don't they just meet us in the library?"

"Oh, that would've been a great idea. Too late."

"Okay, hold on-," Jackson squeezed passed you, grabbing Lydia's arm and jerking her forward, "Lydia, shut up and walk." For the first time since knowing the boy, you didn't see a reason to make a snarky comment.

"Oh, hey you guys? I forgot something back there. Go on ahead, I'll meet you guys there," you called to the group now a few feet ahead of you. Giving Stiles and Allison a pointed look, they nodded back understanding what you were planning to do. Buy them some time to get Lydia out of here.

You backtracked towards the library when you heard your name being called, "Hey, (L/N)!" You looked in the direction of the call, getting met with a flash in your eyes, raising your hands to cover the light from your face. When the flash cleared you were met with the face of Matt, a player on the team, sitting with Danny. "Thanks," he said. How odd. You gave him a look of acknowledgement, then you heard the door to the library open. You quickly ducked into one of the aisles, out of eye line.

"Where is she?" You dipped your head slightly out seeing Isaac, his hand gripping Matt's shirt with Erica just behind him. You softly reached over to the next aisle through the shelf, pushing the books on the floor to create noise. You made a dash for the side door leading into the hallway, not even a second later footsteps could be heard following you. You turned a couple corners making sure to not be fully seen before slipping into an open and empty classroom. You had maybe a couple of seconds to grab your book and flip to the newly marked page. Your eyes glided down the page straight to what you were looking for... a barrier spell. It wouldn't be very strong since this is without practice, but it was gonna have to work.

You followed the instructions closing your eyes, letting yourself connect to the energy around you like Deaton had taught you. Their footsteps kept getting clearer and clearer. When you were sure they were in reach your eyes snapped open and with a flick of your hand into the air you saw a wall of iridescent energy fly up. You heard noises of confusion as you walked out of the classroom to meet the duo's faces.

"Pretty neat, huh?"

"Let us go, (Y/N)." Isaac gave you a stern look while Erica just continued to glare. You put your finger on your chin in pretend thought, you straightened your posture before speaking, "No."

Erica shoved past Isaac, "You think your little party trick is going to save your friends from us? Derek and Boyd will just take care of them. And what do you expect to happen when you can't keep this up anymore, huh?"

You took a couple slow steps until the barrier was the only thing between you two, "Don't worry about them, Scott's taking care of it. As for you two, I'm not worried. This isn't to hold you forever, just long enough to make sure they can get her out of here. And even if I had to stay here to keep it up, I don't care what happens to me as long as they're safe." Both betas faltered at that, that surely wasn't the response they were expecting.

"By the way, don't forget," you raised your injured arm, "I still owe you one, for this." In your peripheral you could see Isaac's glance was no longer on you but on Erica. Isaac raised his hand pointing at you, "You did that?" The blond werewolf didn't answer, just kept her eyes on you.

You shook your head, "Doesn't matter, anyways, I have to get going. See you guys around." You made your way out the side doors nearby, the barrier wouldn't last long with you not there to focus on it so you needed to go, now.

Behind you as you rushed out the doors, could be heard the sound of two betas arguing.

When you had finally made it home, you went through the back door, locking it. You headed to the front entrance making yourself be known, "Hey, I'm here. They're definitely right behind me though."

Allison breathed a sigh of relief as Stiles gave you a secure hug, "I'm glad you're alright." You gave her a weak smile.

"Where's Lydia?"

"Upstairs with Jackson," Allison answered. You rubbed your hands together and nodded. Stiles looked at you both, "Okay, what's the plan?"

"I could maybe focus a barrier on the house, I was able to do it back in the hallway. It won't be as strong if it works but it'll at least give us some protection until Scott gets here." They gave you a look of relief and nodded.

"Okay, but don't try it until they get here, you need to preserve your energy and we still don't know how your abilities really work yet," Allison set a hand on your shoulder and you agreed.

Soon enough, night fell, Derek's pack had arrive and Scott was no where to be seen. You three were looking at the window staring back at them. They all looked so joyous like they had already won. Allison had already called Scott letting him know he need to get here.

"What are you doing?" Stiles' questioned cause you to turn to the dark haired girl who looked distress.

"I think.. I think I have to call my dad."

"But if you do that.." you started, "If he finds you here, you and Scott," Stiles trailed.

"I know. But what are we supposed to do?"

"I think now is a good time to try that barrier." While the other two kept on their conversation, you stood at the door placing your hand on it, "I'm just gonna try and focus on both doors." You closed your eyes just like before but this time you pictured that same iridescent glow wrapping around the front and back door. Once you were sure you had done it, you just tried to focus on securing it keeping your eyes closed.

"Just shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it. Or least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay."

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them."

"Which one?"

"Derek, yeah shoot him, preferably in the head."

"If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, just shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two."

"No, I mean three... Where the hell is Isaac?"

Without another word, your eyes had snapped open, "What do you mean, where's Isaac?" Your focus had been completely shattered and so had the barriers. You looked out the window indeed only seeing three werewolves and the curly haired one missing. In your lost of focus you hadn't even heard said werewolf coming up behind you three.

He grabbed Allison by her shirt, throwing her aside, doing the same to Stiles as well. "Isaac, what the hell are you doing?" He ignored you, just like at the ice rink. His focus completely on Stiles, but not for long as you jumped on the boy's back. Considering you only knew a few defensive spells, you in combat was pretty much useless. The werewolf did, however, struggle to get your grip loosened from around him. You both struggled, he lost his balanced and had backed into a wall ultimately slamming you into it but you didn't let go.

In your struggle you hadn't even noticed the dark haired girl running upstairs nor the blond werewolf following her. "Let go, (Y/N)!" This time, it was your turn to ignore him, too focused on keeping your grip firm. Soon you felt the form being thrown out from under you and a grip setting itself around you. Regaining your balance you looked to your side, it was Scott. You smiled, "You made it."

You glanced at the floor to see a tall werewolf passed out on the floor, Allison came down not a moment later informing you guys of Erica's state. Scott went to collect her as you dragged an unconscious Isaac to the front door. When Scott came back with the girl, he tossed both of the betas out the front door, standing on the front porch. You walked out and joined him on his right, Allison joining you on yours and Stiles on hers.

"I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott. You're not an Omega. You're already an Alpha of your own pack. But you know you can't beat me," Derek held a smirk on his face.

"We can hold you off until the cops get here," you nodded in agreement. Sirens could be heard closing in, Derek's smile was quickly wiped off.

You started to hear hissing and you weren't the only one who heard it, Derek had look up at the roof. The four of you on the porch came out into the yard to see the Kanima crawling along the top of ledge. Scott kept Allison close while you and Stiles grabbed at each others arms.

"Get them out of here," Derek ordered Boyd.

Not a second later, more footsteps could be heard coming from the front door. Lydia stomping through, "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's not Lydia," you whispered.

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

"It's Jackson."

a/n: another chapter doneeeee. honestly you guys this is probably my favorite episode of the whole season so i definitely had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 4 months

Note

Hiii! I've been searching for a fic where Stiles and Derek adopt baby Isaac (he is like 4/5 I think) and he was in an abusive household and had panic attacks, also a scene I remember is when Stiles discovers Isaac's dad used to lock him inside the freezer ¿? The details are kinda blurry but I think Stiles was a teacher and Derek had an stressful job, also Lydia sometimes babysat. Stiles and Derek had some discussions due to Derek's job and him just being absent in general, I can't remember the name since I read it a long time ago :(

Hi anon! @magv1 says it's this one.

To Build a Home by heartofcathedrals

(21/21 I 71,690 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles and Derek have recently adopted adorable blue-eyed toddler Isaac Lahey and the stress of helping him through the remnants of his abusive past homelife is threatening to tear them apart. Can the two build the home and family they've always wanted, or will it crumble before they even get started?

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #isaac lahey #abuse #kid fic #lost fic

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

Text

Heart of the Ocean 💙 | Teen Wolf Miniseries Part 2

Takes place in between 3A & 3B of Teen Wolf

Teen Wolf Masterlist | read part 1 here

Characters & Pairings: Hale/McCall Pack x vampire!reader (female/platonic), eventual Peter Hale x reader (romantic), reader x male!oc ( past romance) & reader x supernatural!reader (platonic). Characters in this imagine: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Alan Deaton.

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, references of historical event disaster, mentions of death, blood, and murder | female!reader (she/her) | ws: 6.4k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: with the riddle solved the pack now have to face the truth their English teacher is not who they thought she was. To find out who’s responsible for the chaos in Beacon Hills they have no choice but to confront Y/n about her identity and nature. Even if it could cost them their lives.

——————————

*tick* *tick* *tick*

Scott’s eyes were on the clock, flickering over to Stiles who wore an expression similar to his. Filled with unease and wondering if what they were about to do was a mistake. The minutes were ticking away as the school day approached its end. Glancing to Allison and Lydia in the front of the classroom he could see in their neck and shoulders how tense they were, Allison nervously chewing on the tip of her pen. All throughout the lecture none could stay focused. Not when the person teaching had a harrowing secret they were about to confront.

How would she react? Better yet, how were they going to even breach the subject.

Scott could see them fucking everything up in the blink of the eye. He couldn’t help but recall Peter’s warning from the night before. “Vampires can be hostile creatures—especially if they haven’t fed for a while. They can go maybe….weeks without drinking blood before they start to lose their control. Considering Loretta—or should I say, Y/n, has been in Beacon Hills a few months I can only assume she is getting her blood by some other means than preying on its citizens. Still, approach her with caution if you decide to confront her. If I was a 130 year old vampire who was a wealthy socialite that survived one of the most famous shipwrecks in history and was being hunted by my creator…well let’s just say I wouldn’t let you leave still breathing.”

The more the seconds ticked by the more Scott was regretting the plan. After much debate the pack wanted to get to the bottom of everything quickly and that meant confronting Miss. Andrews at school. Which was very unnerving. Discovering she was a vampire only made her more intimidating after already establishing herself as someone who came off as unapproachable. Though they had few interactions, Scott found Miss. Andrews to possess an aura that reads, ‘better to wonder in silence rather than search for answers.’ Appearing no older than the age of thirty, sometimes she’d say words or phrases that made her seem much older.

Thankfully their English section was the last period of the day. Isaac wasn’t in the class but he had Miss. Andrews that morning and kept his eyes out for the necklace, however, he was unable to tell if the woman was wearing it.

The Heart of the Ocean.

What led them to her.

If she was wearing the necklace it had to have been beneath her high collared shirt that was paired with a black blazer and dress pants. Now knowing what they know, they realized Miss. Andrews always wore clothing that was sophisticated and concealed her neck area. Whether it be a turtleneck or a collared shirt, they wondered why they hadn’t found it odd before. California was hot even in the early months of the year—especially in April as they approached summer.

Peter’s words echoed in Scott’s mind, “Vampires are cold-blooded creatures. The warm weather has little effect on them and though the glimmer acts as a camouflage to other supernatural creatures it doesn’t change their nature. They’ll be cold to the touch. Faster than the speed of sound. Stronger the older they are. And some even have little gifts that separate them from others.”

“Gifts?”

“Abilities. Very rare among their kind but those who possess them are more enhanced in every aspect than others. I’ve heard stories about one who can read minds. An old…acquaintance, of mine said he once encountered a vampire who could compel anyone to do anything for them. Let’s hope neither your killer or his little creation have any talents. Otherwise your odds of coming out of this in one piece are going to be very low.”

The hairs stood on the back of Scott’s neck when Loretta…Y/n… passed him as she walked in between the aisle of desks. It was like his senses were trying to warn him despite his others unable to detect she was not human.

“What people fail to understand about Romeo and Juliet…” Loretta moves between Lydia and Allison, missing how both girls tense up. “Is that it is not a romance despite having a prominent theme of love thorough out the play. To be considered a romance it must have what you would call, ‘a happily ever after,’…” Turning to face the class, Loretta leans her back against the desk with her arms crossed over her chest. Scott almost perches up, straining his ears to see if he could pick up movement around her neck.

Her eyes scan across the room, lingering on Scott and Stiles when they quickly look away, “Specifically for the protagonist—or protagonists in this setting. Romeo and Juliet die at the end of the play, therefore there is no happy ending. Yes, their families end up putting past their differences due to the loss of their loved ones. But the protagonists did not get to ride off into the sunset and live out their lives in peace. So the more appropriate term for the play would be a tragedy. A genre focused on human suffering and sorrowful events that happen to the protagonist. And as we have learned these past weeks, Shakespeare was known for his tragedies. Romeo and Juliet is just one of his many—Macbeth, Othello, Julius Caesar to name a few.”

There were only two minutes remaining in the class. Scott tapped his pen against the book anxiously, eyes back on the clock as Siltes sent him another look. Isaac’s scent soon filled his nostrils, indicating he was outside the door. And glancing over her shoulder, Allison gave a slight nod of, ‘it’s gonna be okay,’ to try and ease his nerves.

“Tragedies can be inspired by an array of things,” Loretta moved her arms so her hands were clasped in front of her. Again, Scott couldn’t help but listen for the rustling of jewelry. All he got was a usually steady pacing of her heart. If that even was her heart.

“Personal lives and historical events.” Lydia and Alice glance at each other as do Scott and Stiles. “They dive into the catharsis of their audience. Bringing pleasure through pain because we as humans—,” the teens share another look, “cannot help but find a sense of enjoyment in seeing the main character fail. Witness their downfall. Does that say something about us in how we view others?” The question was rhetoric, Loretta watching the students think in silence before shrugging. “That is for you to decide.”

*ring* *ring* *ring*

In a hurry students gather their belongings and make their way out the door. For the four teenagers planning to stay they are slow in their movements.

“Don’t forget tomorrow’s quiz is on Act five,” Loretta shouted lightly, pushing off from the desk only to walk around it. “Then we will begin our unit on Poe so be sure to have your textbooks with you.” As Loretta starts to erase the chalkboard the teens draw to the back door of the class to make it look like they're leaving but really they stop once Isaac enters. Then with a nod, “let’s do this,” they make their way back into the classroom.

Reaching the front row of the desks, the sound of Stiles bumping into a chair catches the woman’s attention, turning to face the group with perplexed eyes making them freeze like deer in headlights.

“Well hello,” Loretta places the eraser down, surprised to see five of her students behind her. “Wasn’t expecting you all to stay after the period ended. Everything alright?” She connects eyes with all, sensing their distress.

Scott is the first to speak, “We’re sorry to bother you when you’re busy, Miss. Andrews,” he felt his heart pick when he nearly addressed her by her real name. “We were just wondering if you could help us with something.”

“Is it about tomorrow’s quiz?” Loretta is calm, collected, and shows no signs of nervousness. “Because unfortunately if that’s the case I can’t—.”

“It’s about our history project,” Allison cuts in, causing the boys to give her a look that read ‘what are you doing?’ She gives a smile when Loretta tilts her head.

“Are you asking me to read over your report? Check for any grammatical errors? That I can do for you if you have a rough draft.”

“No,” Lydia rubs her neck, watching Loretta take a piece of chalk in her hand while bidding a glance at her lesson plans on the desk. Lydia licks her bottom lip, “more like we would like some advice if we have the facts right on it.” Loretta makes a sound between a laugh and scoff.

“I think you’re better suited asking your history teacher,” she raises her brow at them. Her heartbeat is steady against Scott’s ears, the werewolf catching Isaac’s eyes to see he heard the same. “I’m afraid my knowledge on whatever the topic of your project is will be limited compared to your teacher.”

“Actually,” Scott swallows, “We think you’re the best person there is to help us.”

Lorretta makes another sound, smirking lightly like the teens were humoring her, “Oh really?” Chalk in hand she faces the board to begin writing Friday’s plan. “Why is that?”

“Because it’s about Titanic.”

Instantly they watch her hand stop mid air, clutching the chalk in a grip they’re afraid it was going to snap in half. In fact, it did break in half. Not even two seconds after the words leave Scott’s mouth, however, her hand remains in the air. A slight tremor replacing the chalk as it clunks to the tile floor.

Silence fills the room as all time stops. Loretta was paralyzed where she stood. Back facing the group where they couldn’t see her face. But considering she was frozen like a statue, it wasn’t difficult to assume she had the same expression they did when they saw her picture the night before.

Scott takes a hesitant step closer, tone cautions as he mutters, “Y/n.” Her low gasp fills his ears, physically reacting to the name. Behind him the others tense, Isaac consciously moving closer to Scott as Stiles pushes the girls back. They all wait for her next move.

“Y/n—.”

Slowly her hand comes down, head dipping slightly, “How do you know?” The question sounded like Y/n knew this day would come. That in a town where supernatural beings resided she was bound to be discovered but hoped it would be some time before she did.

The teens couldn’t hold back the shudder when Y/n faced them. Her eyes lacked any color. Pitch black like onyx and void of friendlessness. It made them wonder if she was wearing contacts or the glimmer had seeped away to show what her real eyes were. They prayed for the former, for Peter had mentioned when a vampire was hungry their eyes would darken.

Her jaw clenched and Scott instantly straightened to prepare for any sudden attack. She was stronger than him—he knew just from Peter’s warnings. While he had Isaac and Allison armed with a silver dagger, they were no match for a 130 year old vampire who could move faster than they could blink. And if she had abilities….they were straight fucked.

Instead Y/n’s voice went low, repeating her question, “How. Do. You. Know.”

Scott gulped, finding his voice, “Stiles,” with his hand out he motioned for riddle. Stiles fumbles through the front pocket of his backpack, finding the paper and passing it over as Y/n stares the entire time. Carefully the alpha drops the riddle onto the desk, using his fingers to slide it towards her and watches as she picks it up. They are silent the entire time Y/n reads the written words, her mouth tightening as though she recognized the handwriting the moment her eyes met the first line.

Her eyes then close when she finishes the final verse. “He’s found me,” she doesn’t need their confirmation, “it’s been him all along.” Him all along referencing the murders. “I should’ve known.” Her eyes open and lock on Scott, “When did he leave you this?”

“Last night.”

“Where.”

“U-uh Derek Hale’s loft.”

“Hale,” Y/n whispers, the name familiar on her tongue. “Thalia’s son.”

“You know them?” Stiles was flabbergasted. “Y-you know what they are.”

“Of course I do,” Y/n sounded offended, causing the teen to wince. “I’ve been alive 130 years. I knew of the Hale pack when Thalia's grandparents were the leaders.” There’s a pause as her gaze moves to Scott, “And I know Scott is an Alpha. Isaac is a beta. Allison is a hunter—part of the renowned Argent family,” there was a hint of distaste behind Y/n’s tone causing Allison to stiffen. Y/n rests her eyes on the redhead before ending with Siles, “and Lydia is a banshee. But you are the only human, Mr. Stilinski. Which might I say is quite the surprise.”

Stiles scratches his neck, “R-really?”

“Yes. Usually humans don’t last long with supernaturals. Would’ve thought you’d be a beta by now—seeing that your best friend is an alpha.” Seeing his friends become uncomfortable with the assumption, Scott switches the subject.

“Next week is the anniversary of Titanic sinking,” her expression instantly changed. “You were there.”

“I was,” it came no louder than a whisper, a distant look within her eye indicating Titanic was still a painful memory for the woman. “And you know then—from this,” she holds up the riddle, “What I am? What I do?”

Each of them nod, “we do.” They still couldn’t wrap their heads around it. That their English teacher, of all people, was an immortal who was aboard Titanic.

“And you’re not running for the hills,” she hums, not sure whether to find them idiotic or courageous. “How interesting.”

“Well when you live in a town like Beacon Hills…you try to get used to it,” Stiles shrugs, a little terrified when Y/n’s expression reads that of, ‘you think you’ve seen it all? You have no idea what else is out there.’

“This is how we found you….” Lydia removes the printed article with the picture of Y/n wearing the necklace. Handing it to the woman, Lydia sees her face soften, eyes lingering on the pictures of her with Theodore and Benjamin.

“Forgot this existed honestly,” Y/n mutters, finger brushing over the image. “It’s the only picture we ever took as a family. And this one,” she points to the one of only her, “this was the first and last time I had a portrait done.” A hand comes up to her neck area, all eyes following the movement where they watch her remove the Heart of the Ocean from beneath the material. It was more exquisite in person than they imagined. A stunning blue diamond in the shape of a heart surrounded by white diamonds and all along the chain.

No wonder she kept it hidden. Anyone would’ve been drawn by the beauty of the jewelry if they were to see it. Then of course there was the tiny fact it was worth 350 million dollars and the link to her past.

Y/n lets out a pained chuckle, “I’m impressed you managed to piece it together. So quickly might I add.” Her finger runs along the surface of the diamond, “but then again, Heart of the Ocean is not something you hear everyday.”

“It’s the source of your glimmer, isn’t it?”

Y/n narrows her eyes at Scott’s question, “How do you know about the glimmer?”

Stiles is the one to answer, “Derek’s uncle seems to know everything about supernatural creatures. He was the one who figured out you and your creator were vampires. Then he explained how you were able to pass as human—why they wouldn’t be able to pick up on your scent.”

“He said vampires will sometimes wear enchanted jewelry,” Allison’s gaze went back to the necklace, flicking back to Y/n who had straightened her posture, “That Druid’s can make it so you’re not affected by the sun and give off a human scent. He suspected the Heart of the Ocean was it for you.”

Once again Y/n appeared impressed, “well he was right. Which is unfortunate for me,” she mutters almost annoyed, eyes going back to reread the riddle. Scott leans more against the desk.

“We need to know who is doing this, Y/n—Loretta, if that’s what you prefer,” he corrects when her hand flexes. “And why. He gave us this riddle to find you and now that we have we have no idea what’s gonna happen next. Do you have any clue why he’s doing this?”

Y/n let out a loud exhale—prompting Scott to remember it was for show since vampires didn’t need to breathe. Having to put up the facade of being human for so long likely had the mannerisms come naturea. The riddle drops onto the table. “His name is Sebastian Lavigne. Don’t bother trying to find him on the records of passengers aboard that night—,” Stiles’ hand pauses as he jots down the name. “Sebastian didn’t have a ticket. He was a stowaway who snuck aboard when the ship docked in France. Disguised himself as a crew member so he wouldn’t get caught.” She paused to sigh again, “Quite frankly I’m not even sure if that’s his real name—he’s likely going by another alias.”

“Kinda like you?”

Y/n made a face at Stiles’s question, but answered nonetheless. “If you haven’t noticed, Mr. Stilinski, I do not age. If we stay in a place too long people start to suspect, therefore we have to move consistently and with that comes an identity change. But I always knew him by Sebastian though to the public he went by a different name. And so did I,” she glances at photos of her. “I couldn’t go by my real name after Titanic because of who my family was and everyone thought I was dead. Then of course the fact I was now a blood-sucking creature.

“Sebastian is a deceitful man. And this riddle—,” a finger aggressively hits the paper a few times, “is just one of his many games. He knows exactly where I am and only did this to mess with you. Probably because he knows you’re onto him. He wanted you to figure out what he was. Leading you to me…it was to warn me he’s coming.”

Lydia tenses, feeling a wave of dread course through her, “why is wanting to find you?” Y/n crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at the floor.

“Because he’s angry I left him. That I broke away from him. Vampires are usually nomadic—hardly ever join up together. Kinda like how werewolves have packs to make them stronger, well….a group of vampires would decimate anything that stood in their way. Sebastian’s a man who desires power,” Y/n rubs her hand on her forearm. “And together we were powerful—especially with our gifts.”

“Gifts?” Scott’s heart skipped, thinking of Peter’s warning. “You both have gifts?”

“Yes,” Y/n didn’t sound proud of it. “Sebastian can compel you to do anything—you’ve heard of him,” Y/n’s shoulders slumped at their reaction.

Stiles flexes his hand, unease in his voice, “Peter told us about a vampire like that. Said he knew someone who encountered them. Is he the only one who can?” Y/n’s nod of confirmation only increases their anxiety.

“As far as I know, yes he is. His gift is powerful, but it only works close range. Meaning in order to be affected you have to be directly in front of him. Sebastian has to stare into one’s eyes to compel them,” Y/n glances to her feet again, “but once he does they have no choice but to do what he says. And combined with mine…..” she shudders, making them frown. “No one could stand a chance against us.”

“What can you do?” Allison asks, a little unsure if she even wanted to know.

“Make you see anything I want. Whether it be tapping into your memory or my own, I can conjure illusions. Illusions derived from your greatest fear causing you to become incapacitated,” everyone’s demeanor became that of concern. “As you can imagine it came in handy when traveling with Sebastian—especially against our enemies,” Y/n comes around the desk so she’s closer to the group, “or more like his enemies since it was always him who had to instigate conflict.”

Lydia’s eyes draw in suspicion, “Why’d you leave him?” It was the question everyone wanted the answer to. And Y/n didn’t appear happy to answer it.

“He’d been keeping things from me. During my time with Sebastian he liked to isolate me—keep me from interacting with others of our kind. He didn’t want me to know I could feed without preying on humans. Or about glimmer which is why I spent most of my days locked in doors and only came out at night. He kept me from my son,” her lips tightened, “I understood why at the time…but then I found out his motives.”

The air thickened in the classroom.

“Things that could have made my fate turn out different than what it was,” her voice turned cold, eyes darkening even more. “Yes, he pulled me from the water that night…but he didn’t have to turn me into this to save me. There was another way and he chose to turn me for what I was worth to him. So when I found out decades later the truth—that he had turned me for his own selfish gain. Robbing me of the life I could have had with my son and family…”

Y/n’s hand moves to the jewelry on her neck, “I found the closest Druid I could find and had them enchant this. That way he’d lose my scent and be unable to track me.” Her hand comes back down with a sigh, “But somehow he always manages to be a step ahead of things.”

“How long ago did you escape him?” Scott wonders aloud.

“Forty years ago.”

Stiles’s jaw drops, “He’s been hunting you for four decades?”

“Likely so. With me he was more powerful. With me he was more rich,” Y/n explained, tone bitter with each word. “Shortly after we returned to New York he compelled me into robbing my own home. The amount we stole still hasn’t run dry—at least not for me,” a tinge of a smirk indicated Y/n left him with nothing when she escaped. “So I wouldn’t put it past him for devoting this many years to find me. But it’s not to get me into his good graces, no, he wants to punish me. And the best way to punish me is to play games like this,” lightning fast her hand grasps the riddle and crutches it between her fingers. “To cause chaos and hurt innocent people because he knows how much I hated it when we did. The murders. Leaving you this riddle. He won’t stop even after he’s got what he wants.”

Scott’s shoulders drop slightly, “And what does he want?”

“To kill me. Scott,” Y/n’s words send a shiver along his body. “I’ve made a life of myself without him—one where I try everyday to make up for the things I did with him. Preying on humans. Torturing the minds of those Sebastian hated. He wants me to feel that shame and regret before he finishes the job. Because that’s what he does, however, now that he’s brought you all into his game there’s not going to be an end until he’s satisfied. Once he’s through with me you will become his prime source of entertainment. Or, he’ll see you as a benefit and want to corrupt you. Just like he did to me.”

Silence fills the room as the teens take in the new information. All deep in thought wondering what to do or say next. The reality of Sebastian’s cruel nature and games proves beyond their expertise. They weren’t sure exactly how to go about it. Finding Y/n was the first step, but from what she’s told them it would not be enough.

He’ll still kill. He might even target them next—especially if they refuse whatever offer he could be planning. Y/n didn’t have to go into detail that Scott’s status as a True Alpha with a pack of unlikely allies would be something Sebastian would want to control.

And with his gift of compelling….

“We need to know what he looks like,” Scott’s the first to speak. Determination fills his gaze, “He’s got the advantage right now—a-and if he’s glimmered like you then he’s probably been passing as human.” He turns to Y/n, pleading with her for help. “You said you can show illusions. Ones that can be from your memory—can you show one with him?” The sound she responds with is one of defeat.

“He compelled me, shortly after he turned me, to erase his image from my memory because he was paranoid about us running into vampires who could read minds or Druids who could make me tap into my subconscious.” Everyone deflated at the news, but then Y/n perked up causing them to do the same. “But….he when did, he only said, ‘from this moment on.’”

Scott took a step closer, eyes full of hope, “What does that mean?”

“It means I can show you,” Y/n’s voice is low and tainted with slight dread. “I can show you the night he turned me. The night Titanic sank.”

Later that evening the pack gathered at Deaton’s clinic. It was just after sunset, around 8pm and some were starting to become impatient.

“Is she coming?” Peter grunted from where he stood leaning against a wall. “Or was this all a distraction.”

“She’s gonna be here,” Scott insisted, eyes narrowed slightly. Truth be told he was starting to worry. Y/n had promised she’d be at the clinic by nightfall but had yet to show.

“Well the clock is ticking,” Stiles fiddled with his fingers nervously.

Allison looks at the man beside her, who was checking to see if his gun was loaded with the proper bullets. “You know you didn’t have to come, dad.” Chris raises a brow, putting the safety on and placing the weapon back in its holster.

“And leave you and your friends alone with a gifted vampire who’s the reasons a psychotic one is causing hell around town? Not a chance.”

“Have you ever hunted one before?” Her voice drops to a whisper, though it doesn’t do much for those with enhanced hearing. Derek, Peter, Scott, and Isaac heard the question loud and clear.

Chris shakes his head, “No. They’re rare and not many are in America—but your great-grandfather came into contact with one in the fifties. Left us with what to do if we ever dealt with one.”

Allison gives her father a look of warning, “You can’t hurt her, dad.”

“If she gives me a reason to, I will.”

“She won’t,” she presses, aware Scott and Derek had their eyes on them. The former looked anxious.

“You don’t know how unpredictable and manipulative vampires are, Allison. None of you do.”

“She’s been in Beacon Hills for months. We asked her how she gets her blood and she said she’s been taking bags from the ER—not feeding on the town’s people,” the teen pleads, surprised with herself for defending Y/n so easily. Maybe it was the fact the vampire had been robbed of her life that made Allison sympathize. Or because she could feel the anger and fury Y/n had for her creator that she believed Y/n would stop at nothing to take him down. “And she hasn’t given any reason for us to believe she’s been working with Sebastian. She hates him, dad.” Chris doesn’t appear convinced.

“She was with him for sixty years—.”

“And she’s been without him for forty,” Allison cuts him off, promptly ending the argument. Another minute passes before all freeze at the sound of Deaton’s door chime ringing. Motioning with a hand, the doctor enters the lobby where he is met with a woman wearing a tan trench coat and boots. She spun around when she heard him approach, allowing Deaton to see the stunning jewelry around her neck. Instantly he felt the magic running through it.

“You’re the Druid,” were the first words from her mouth. “Scott told me about you.” Deaton offers a small smile.

“You must be Y/n,” when she visibly reacted to the name he apologized, “I’m sorry, would you prefer to be called—.” Her hand lifts to stop him.

“No, no. It’s fine—I’m just getting used to hearing that name again. It’s been so long since anyone other than ....” She trails off, not wanting to say his name. Deaton understands with a light nod, moving to open the gate.

“You don’t have to explain. Please, come in.”

“Did Scott inform you what to prepare?” She asks as she passes, receiving a nod from the man.

“Yes. I’m quite familiar with its effects—but I made sure to not make it too strong.” Leading Y/n into the back room, she stills at the sight of those she didn’t recognize, namely the man beside Allison and the two leaning against the wall. Everyone straightens when she arrives and her eyes go straight to Scott.

“You didn’t say we’d have guests.” Her tone is weary, making Scott move closer to show her it was okay.

“That’s Derek Hale and his uncle Peter,” a finger points to the two, glaring when he notices Peter’s eyes linger on Y/n’s figure. While he couldn’t blame him given Y/n’s striking beauty there were more important matters at the moment. “He’s the one who helped us figure out what you were.” He hears the woman make a sound similar to ‘hmph’, causing Peter to smirk and give a mock wave. Scott rolls his eyes, motioning to Chris, “And that’s Allison’s father, Chris Argent.”

Y/n’s expression tightens, appearing slightly uncomfortable with the lineup. Four werewolves, two hunters, a Druid, and a banshee? Vampires were strong creatures but even they could become intimidated. “Quite the party we have going on then.”

Stiles clears his throat to appease the tension, “uh what took you so long?” The question snaps Y/n out of the intense staring contest going on between her, Peter, and Chris. She removes her gloves to place them in her pocket.

“Well considering I’ve been out of practice I needed a pick me up to ensure my power would be at its best,” lips curl up, almost menacing which has Chris inch his hand closer to the holster. She sees the gesture and raises a brow in challenge, “Don’t worry, hunter. I didn’t sink my teeth into anything other than a donation bag.” She pays no mind to his glare, instead removing the Heart of the Ocean from her neck.

When Y/n does this a new smell enters the room right as the unusual steady pacing of her heart stops beating. The aroma is overbearing with vanilla and lavender—even for those without an enhanced sense of smell. For the werewolves, they perked up as they had never smelled anything so delightful.

“You smell that?” Y/n closes her eyes as she drops the necklace into the other pocket.

“Yeah.” Scott takes another waff of the scent, turning to her only to draw back in surprise when she opens her eyes to reveal deep red eyes replacing the color they once were. The lights from above almost made them glow. “Woah.” From behind Scott the others react to the changes of Y/n’s appearance.

Stiles and Isaac had to do a double take to make sure what he was seeing was real. Lydia and Allison shared a glance, both shuddering when Y/n made eye contact with them. Chris straightens his posture again, only amusing the vampire and Peter appears rather intrigued.

“Vampires have to lure their prey somehow,” She starts to explain. “It’s stronger for you wolves, but even you who are not are drawn by it. Makes you want to get closer, huh?” Y/n steps away, moving towards Deaton who reappears after going to the back closet to retrieve an object resembling a goblet.

“I can’t hear your heart anymore,” Scott’s tone is laced with confusion at the sudden decrease of heartbeats in the room.

“You never did. It was an illusion from the glimmer—so any creature I come into contact with would think I’m human. My heart stopped the night I turned,” the smirk she wore fell to a tight frown, “it won’t ever beat again.”

An eerie silence fills the room, her words lingering in the air. No doubt causing suspicion now that they were aware Y/n could lie and they would have no way of knowing. She could’ve been lying about everything honestly. Now they were left to wonder if any of what she said before was true.

But why would she lie? She’s made it awfully clear of her resentment for Sebastian.

The attention goes to Y/n as she removes the scalpel from Deaton’s tray and raises it to her palm. “W-what—what are you doing?” Stiles nearly gags when the skin breaks and a dark liquid like blood flows from the wound. It spills into the goblet, where a smell that could only be described as death replaces the once vanilla aroma. Deaton begins stirring the substance with a spoon while Y/n explains.

“As I’ve mentioned…” The cut disappeared without a trace not a second after Y/n lifted her hand away from the goblet. “I haven't used my power in ages—and while I fed earlier it may not be enough for it to be at its full potential. So to do this I need to remove any mental barriers from your mind.”

“And we have to drink your blood for it to work,” Peter rolls his eyes at how ironic it sounds, “how fitting.”

Y/n narrows her eyes at the man, “If you’re worried about it becoming a vampire you need not to worry. There’s no venom—that only comes from a bite. Sound familiar?” The air becomes thick and Scott moves between the two when Peter's eyes flash blue.

“What’s it going to do, Y/n?”

The vampire takes the goblet from Deaton, passing it to the teenager first, “Open your mind. To do so my blood is mixed with decade old sap from the Nematon and a rare form of wolfsbane. You’ll feel some discomfort,” she points out when all the wolves instantly become hesitant at the mention of wolfsbane, “but it won’t kill you. I need your mental state to be vulnerable. Ignore the smell—I know it’s revolting but it’ll taste like dry, bitter wine.”

Scott stares at the goblet before taking it in his hands. Inside the contents was a dark liquid with a smell that made him want to gag. He couldn’t help but ask Deaton, “You’re sure about this?”

“I’ve never worked with this before but I know someone who has. It’s potent but short lasting and won’t affect you once it’s out of your system in a few hours.” Deaton gives a look of assurance, “You might feel a pressure in your head that’s like a headache.”

Y/n adds on to the vet, “that’s so show your mental walls are dropping. But like your emissary said it’s temporary. Allowing me enough time to show you my memories in the form of illusions. But I must warn you all,” she pauses to glance at each of them. “My illusions are like vivid dreams. Where it feels real. Your body will remain paralyzed here, but your mind will be somewhere else. Not only will you see what I have to show you,” Y/n’s entire demeanor becomes serious once more. “You’ll be able to hear everything. Feel everything. The sun's rays. The cool breeze. The freezing waters…..It will be as though you’re experiencing it in real time.”

There’s a pause, letting the reality sink in on what the vampire was implying. “My question is….are all of you wishing to see what I have to show you? Now is the time to step out if you’re having second thoughts.” When no one objects, despite all looking relatively nervous, Y/n clasps her hands in front her. “Well, Scott, start us off.”

“We all have to drink it?” Stiles cringes when he’s passed the cup, Scott letting out a gag after the taste hits his tongue. Y/n smirks as she nods.

“Unless you would like to sit this out, Stiles, then yes.” Groaning, the teen plugs his nose and takes a swig before handing it to Isaac. Even after taking several gulps of water the awful taste of iron and wood remained.

One by one each person took their turn of downing the potion, with Deaton as the last one to do so. Within seconds it took effect, the most notable sign being the headache forming. Then a light feeling started to swirl all along their body. Like they were on cloud 9.

“Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” Derek moaned, squinting when the light suddenly started to become brighter.

“You’ll get used to it in a moment,” Y/n’s closes her eyes, taking a deep breath despite not needing one. It was mostly to calm her nerves as she allowed the memory dug deep within her mind to surface. A moment later the warmth of the sun hit her skin. The smell of fresh paint and sea salt filling her nose. And the sound of a ship's whistle and people shouting echoed in her ears.

The others gasped, making Y/n open her eyes where she found them all, mouth agape and eyes bulging as though they couldn’t believe what they were seeing, staring at whatever was behind her. And when she turned around, Y/n’s lips curled up into a sad smile.

Seeing the ship of dreams again after decades filled her with an emotion she couldn’t describe—she couldn’t imagine what the pack were thinking. Probably wondering if it was a dream and they’d wake up any second. The memory was as clear as the day it was made—everything around them was exactly like it was that bright sunny Wednesday afternoon.

It was like they traveled back in time to April 10th, 1912.

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theslowestpoke · 27 days

Text

Appreciation Post for Noah Stilinski and Chris Argent

Teen Wolf is accidentally a show about shitty parents. In all of Beacon Hills, Noah and Chris are the exceptions to the rule of bad dads.

Rafe McCall

Alcoholism

Domestic violence

Abandoned his family

Bullies his son's best friend re: his own father's alcoholism, aka

Superiority complex

Actively endangers multiple people because he can't listen to his son for five minutes

Derek's Dad

Does he exist?

If he existed at some point, he fumbled Talia, so

Mr. Martin

Shows up to Lydia's parent-teacher conference and immediately assumes she's making trouble and has bad grades, indicating he has never bothered to get to know her

He does come to the hospital after Peter mauls her, but the risk of nearly losing her doesn't change his behavior, so this is performative at best and manipulative at worst

Coach Lahey

I mean, do I need to explain?

Physically and verbally abusive to at least one of his sons

Threatened a kid who nearly drowned at his house because

He let a bunch of teenagers drink underage at his house

I have a feeling Isaac getting a job at the graveyard wasn't a choice or a paying gig, but it's definitely not OSHA compliant to have one person under 18 on the night shift by himself and operating heavy machinery for the exact reason that we see happen in Omega

Peter Hale

He can be forgiven for not knowing about his kid for 16 years because that knowledge was literally stolen from him (a point against Talia Hale, don't come for me) but

Once they both know about it, he continues doing his creepy villain bullshit and nearly gets said kid killed multiple times

Gerard Argent

Seriously

Not even touching his bad grandparenting,

Militarized his children with dangerous, xenophobic rhetoric which he has deliberately misconstrued to serve his own means

Could not give a single shit if either of his kids die in the line of duty, whether it is avoidable or not

Manipulated his daughter to such extremes that she groomed and sexually assaulted a child in order to murder his entire family

Decided it was fine for his son's first solo mission to be an arms deal with the literal Yakuza, supernatural elements aside

His big endgame plan was a betrayal of every ideal he ruined his children with and he was going to just carry on acting like that was fine

Elias Stilinski

Guess what, another asshole

Verbally and physically abusive to his wife and son

Continues to be verbally abusive and emotionally manipulative during moments of lucidity from his dementia

Chris and Noah are not perfect fathers, but they are <b>good</b>, which is what matters.

Noah has been dealt a bad hand in life, losing his wife while their son was so young, and he's tried very hard to break the cycle of violence while learning how to be a single father. He did have issues with alcoholism in the past, although we only hear about that from other people talking shit or when Stiles is poisoned with wolfsbane, so the true extent may be exaggerated. He almost always handles Stiles' neurodivergence and propensity to get himself (and others) into trouble with patience and understanding, unless it puts someone in danger.

Chris also broke the cycle of violence, trying his best to shield his daughter from the dangers of the hunter lifestyle until she was old enough to make a choice for herself. When that protection was forcibly removed and she was manipulated by everyone else in her family, he never stopped trying to help her see reason, including joining forces with his lifelong enemies to bring her back home. He also recognizes the missing pieces Isaac needs when he starts hanging around, so he pulls that kid under his wing, too, a remarkable show of character growth from his handling of Allison's last boyfriend. He did kind of forget that Isaac isn't legally his and then abduct him across international waters, but everyone grieves differently, I guess. Unless we find out explicitly what happens to Isaac in France, I'm going to assume the best and that Chris didn't just abandon him there with no resources.

Anyway, fandom talks a lot about Melissa McCall and, obviously, she's doing an amazing job, but she's not the only one.

#teen wolf #noah stilinski #chris argent #isaac lahey #gerard argent #i didn't even add my thoughts on deaton #scotts surrogate dad is only a good dad by comparison #anyway this is a big part of why kintsugi is about isaac and the stilinskis #give my boy a healthy homelife

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usermischief · 2 years

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Isaac Lahey in Lunar Eclipse (3x12)

I'm not gonna lie. I'm more than a little disturbed, not only by the number of missing parents, but the fact that it's Stiles's father, your father, and your mother. Mine are both dead. Save the cliched teenage apathy for your high school teachers.

#twedit #fytwolf #isaac lahey #daniel sharman #teen wolf #dailyteenwolf #teenwolfgifs #teendramaedit #cinemapix #dailyflicks #smallscreensource #dailytvgifs #filmtvcentral #*tv:teen wolf #*usermischief

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princeescaluswords · 1 year

Note

Lol @ the people saying you're "bringing race into fandom". Transports me right back to 11th grade English when our teacher (instead of sacrificing us to the Nemeton) tried to teach us about analyzing race in popular media texts like Disney movies, and everyone in the class (bar myself and like 3 other people who had brains) started going on about how the critics she was having us read/watch were "bringing race into it". Like come on. This is grade school level theory. Read a book, people.

You want to know how I know that race is involved in the Sterek fandom?

Isaac Lahey.

(Before anyone gets upset, I appreciate Isaac's character as much as I appreciate Derek's and Stiles's characters, which is quite a bit.)

Let's review. Isaac is indeed abused and terrorized by his father, the same way Scott is abused and terrorized by Peter. Isaac threatens Stiles and bullies Stiles and Jackson far more than Scott "mistreats" Stiles and Jackson. He makes fun of Stiles and refuses to listen to him. Isaac resists Derek's teaching, to the point that Derek hurts him to teach him a lesson (the same way Derek hurts Scott to teach him a lesson). Isaac dates a hunter, Allison, and follows her through the woods and sneaks into her house. Isaac learns from Alan Deaton. Isaac refuses to be a part of the Hale Pack, like Scott does, but unlike Scott, he originally agreed to take the Bite and join the pack. In the end, he leaves Beacon Hills with Chris Argent, an actual hunter without a single word to either his alpha or his former-alpha.

So where the hell are all the Bad Friend Isaac stories?

I mean, if the nearly two-thousand tagged Bad Friend Scott Stories and the ten times as many stories that write Scott as a Bad Friend but don't label it are a result of Scott's on-screen behavior, then shouldn't there be at least a thousand stories that deal with Isaac in the same way? I would confidently estimate that there are less than a hundred. I can say with less confidence that there are less than fifty. There are even less that turn him into an antagonist or even a villain who must be punished, deprived of freedom, or murdered. I doubt you would break ten.

So what's the deal? If this has nothing to do with race and Sterek stories just require a bad-friend antagonist or an ineffectual villain, then it stands to reason that Isaac would sometimes fill that role, doesn't it?

Of course, their answer is that they don't like Scott, and I agree they have a right not to like Scott. But the funny thing is they won't -- they can't -- explain why they don't like Scott. It can't be because he acts as a selfless hero, because so do Derek and Stiles. It can't be because he says mean things to Derek, because they don't have any problem liking Isaac or Peter or Stiles. It can't be because he never listens to Stiles, because since when does any character always listen to Stiles? It can't be because he's in a problematic heterosexual relationship, because they don't have any problem with Isaac's or Derek's or Stiles's problematic heterosexual relationships.

And so on and so forth.

It's not just because he's the lead protagonist, because Scott being the Teen Wolf offers no obstacle at all to a Sterek relationship. He canonically loved both Stiles and Derek, and they loved him in return. But what Scott being the lead protagonist proves an obstacle for is either Stiles or Derek actually being the lead protagonist. The show was built around a Latino character and not the two white characters that this fandom has conjured a whole relationship about.

It's not -- nor has it ever been -- about what happened on the screen that causes people to dislike Scott. It's been about what didn't happen on the screen. Derek and Stiles had nearly ten times the amount of pre-canon flashbacks than Scott did, but that's not enough. You never saw Scott taking a few days or weeks off to contemplate his place in the world while sad classical music played in the background, but that's not enough. Melissa and Deaton always told Scott how he could be a better werewolf instead of getting his parking tickets erased or told that the easiest way to forgive himself is to forgive someone who didn't do anything to him, but that's not enough. Scott never got to beat Derek up because his decisions in Season 2 ruined his relationship with Allison, not the way Stiles got to hit Scott for his father getting hurt, but that's not enough. For as much as these white male characters received in terms of story, they still weren't the lead protagonist, and this creates the only explanation for the profound animosity which they exhibit toward Scott, one which they will claim the right to have but also feel they never ever have to explain. In addition, there is only one thing, no matter how much they can't say, that we must always remember.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

#scott mccall defense squad #anti sterek stans #scott mccall #stiles stillinski #derek hale #isaac lahey #fandom racism #teen wolf fandom problems

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teen-wolf-quotes · 8 months

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Coach: Listen up. Anyone sees Isaac Lahey, you immediately tell the principal, get a teacher, or you call me. Except for you, Greenberg. Don’t call me for anything. I’m not kidding. Don’t call me. You shouldn’t even have my number.

#teen wolf #teen wolf quotes #coach finstock #bobby finstock #greenberg #s2e3

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taeswolfie · 7 months

Text

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚

☽︎𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈☾︎

Ch.19 - Ch.21

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Y/n sits in the chair besides Stiles in his dad's office. She had been invited by the Stilinski's to have dinner and, even if she wanted to, she couldn't say no to Stiles' big brown eyes. Noah takes a bite of his burger only to be disappointed by its contents. "Oh, what the hell is this?"

"Veggie burger." Stiles says.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger."

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy." He shows off his salad then glances at Y/n. "Well, most of us." The girl looks up at that, a french fry hanging halfway out her lips before she munches it.

Noah then lifts the paper lid on his other container that holds celery and carrot sticks. "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please?"

"Tell you what, Sheriff." Y/n leans forward. "I will trade you five fries for a celery and two carrot sticks, and you stop complaining and eat your food. Deal?" She raises a brow at him. Noah thinks about it for a second then nods.

"Fair enough." Once the trading of items is finished Stiles speaks up again.

"Tell us what you found."

"No, I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers."

Stiles looks at the board behind his dad. "Is that it on the board behind you?"

Noah glances at it while Stiles cranes his neck to see it better. "Don't look at that."

"A'ight." He sits down again but moves right back to looking.

"Avert your eyes."

"Okay."

"Hey!"

"Just- it's just- I see- arrows pointing at pictures."

"Okay, okay, stop. Fine." The teens perk up a bit. "I found something. Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three?" Y/n asks.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident."

"Two's a coincidence." Y/n had been around them long enough to know this phrase.

"Three's a pattern." Stiles finishes.

"The mechanic, the husband, the wife- all the same age. All 24."

"Wait a minute, but what about Mr. Lahey? I mean, Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near 24."

"Which made me think that either A) Lahey's murder wasn't connected or B) the ages were a coincidence, until I found this, which would be C." He hands Stiles a folder and Y/n leans to look over his arm as he looks at it. "Did you know that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Camden?"

"'Died in combat'." Y/n read from the file.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"24." Stiles says. All three get up to look at the board closer. "Now what if same age means same class- I mean, did you think of that?"

"Yeah, yeah." Noah nods.

"You sure?" Y/n asks teasingly and he hesitates.

"Well, I would've. I mean, I- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago."

Stiles looks at him in shock. "Two hours? Dad, people could be dying."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. Thank you."

They look at the board again. "Same class." The Stilinski's look at each other and suddenly Y/n is dragged over to the desk where Noah puts some books and files down. They look through files and Stiles picks up a blue folder. "Okay, this is it. Class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including Isaac's brother."

"All right, but so what if they all knew each other, you know?"

"Two of them were married." Y/n agrees.

"Maybe they all just hung out."

"Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've..." Noah trails off when he sees something.

"What?"

"Same teacher." He moves a paper around for them to see that it shows Mr. Harris.

"Harris." Y/n grimaces. She really doesn't like the guy.

"They were all in his class?" Stiles asked.

"All four. And I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. All right, give me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces." He starts calling someone as Y/n grabs the book.

"Which ones?" She asks.

"Everyone in that Chemistry class. If the killer's not done killing..."

"Then one of them's next." Stiles says.

"Yeah." Then he gets an answer on the phone. "Yeah, it's Stilinski." After a bit of her and Stiles finding the people in Harris' class she got a message from Scott saying he needed her at the clinic.

"I gotta go." She said once she looked at it. "I gotta help at the clinic for a bit tonight."

"That's fine. Thanks for the help, Y/n."

"No problem." She smiles at the Sheriff and then turns to Stiles. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Great detective work, guys." She gathered her things and then gave Stiles a quick kiss. "Love ya!" She called as she dashed out the door.

Stiles looked after her wide-eyed for a moment with a little love sick smile before he looked back at his dad who was smirking at him. He realized that his dad just saw and heard that and he busied himself with the files again. "Shut up." But he still had a smile on his face.

...

Y/n got to the clinic just as Scott left the room to open the front door for someone. "Hey." She greeted Alan. "Meeting with Derek Hale?" He nodded. "This should be fun."

"What's he doing here?" She heard Scott ask.

"I need him." Derek answered.

"I don't trust him."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." Isaac's voice said then.

"You know what? And Derek really doesn't care. Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"

"That depends." Alan leans on the doorjamb with Y/n next to him. She nods her head in greeting to the newcomers. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" Derek said 'kill him' at the same time Scott and Y/n said 'save him'.

"Save him." Scott enunciates at Derek before looking back at Alan. "Save him." They all go into the back room and stand around the metal table, Y/n and Alan on one side, the werewolves on the other. Y/n places a tray of glass bottles filled with various things on the table.

Isaac goes to grab a bottle to look at it when Derek grabs his wrist and yanked it back. "Watch what you touch." He warns. While Alan looks through the bottles to find something hopefully useful Isaac leans his arms on the table.

"So what are you? Some kind of witch?" He asks Alan.

Y/n smirks at him. "That would be me." She flashes her eyes at him and he raises his brows a bit in surprise. "He's a veterinarian." She nods her head at Alan.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin." Alan puts down a bottle.

"We're open to suggestions." Derek says.

"What about an effective offence?" Isaac offers.

"No, we already tried. I nearly took it's head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Alan asked.

"Well, one. It can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No. He's the captain of the swim team." Scott says.

"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people." He opens a drawer and grabs an item, closing the drawer and turning back to the group. "A puppet." He holds up a pendant depicting the horned god Cernunnos. "And a puppeteer." He puts the pendant on the table. "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?"

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too." Isaac theorises.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was."

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Alan asks Y/n and she nods. "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him?"

Y/n let's out a small 'ah' as she catches on. "So what if something that affects the kanima also affects its master?" She grabs the bottle of mountain ash, dumping a bit in her hand, and pours it over the pendant making the ash form a perfect circle around it. Alan smiles at her.

"Meaning what?" Isaac asks.

"Meaning we can catch them." Scott answers. "Both of them."

...

Stiles pulls into the school parking lot and parks near where Matt is locking up his bike. "There's gotta be some other way to get a ticket, right?" Scott says as he, Stiles and Y/n climb out of the Jeep.

"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's a secret." Stiles says.

"Hey." Matt suddenly calls and the three turn to look at him. "Any of you know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt."

"I- I had a concussion."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt."

"I was in the ER for six hours."

"Hey, do you wanna know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles bends down and holds his hand an inch above the ground.

"Okay, settle down, tiger." Y/n makes him stand up straight and holds his hand, the action seeming to calm him a bit.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks Matt.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. So you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they still selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." Matt walks away.

"I don't like him." Stiles says.

"Me either." Y/n makes a face towards Matt's direction.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" He asks Scott.

"Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's gonna do this time?"

"Be there to make sure it happens." The three walk into school.

...

"Katamine?" Scott questions. Alan holds a vial of the drug up for the teens to see.

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage." He explains and sets the bottle and a large syringe on the table. "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time." He grabs the bottle of mountain ash. "This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you and Y/n, Stiles." He sets the bottle down. "Only you two."

"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles picks up the bottle. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"

"You'll be fine, Stiles." Y/n assures and plucks the bottle from his fingers. "This is from the mountain ash tree."

"Which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." Alan adds. "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."

"How come Y/n is able to use it then if she's also supernatural?" Stiles asks curiously.

"Witches are like the bridge between the natural and supernatural world." She explains. "We're supernatural enough to not be human, but human enough to not be affected by certain things."

"Okay, so then what? We just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped." Alan nods.

"Doesn't sound too hard." Scott tries to assure Stiles.

"Not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It's just a powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that. And why aren't you saying this to her?"

"Because I already know how to use it."

"Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will." Stiles nods, yet he still seems unsure.

"Here's another example." Y/n offers. "It's kinda like pixie dust, you need to believe it will work or else it won't."

"If-" Alan moves his head a bit to make sure Stiles is looking at him. "If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."

…

That night Stiles pulls up outside the secret party after picking up Scott and Y/n. They all go to the back and Stiles opens it up. "You okay?" Scott suddenly asks Stiles as he grabs a bag of mountain ash.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just didn't say anything the whole way here."

"No, I'm fine." Y/n could tell that was a lie. Something was bothering him, she could feel it. Something at home. She had been waiting for them to be alone to say anything about it. "Grab the other bag, please." Stiles asks her which she complies.

Scott suddenly takes a few steps away as he hears something. "Not here, not now." He says just before he rushes away.

"What- Scott?" Stiles called after him, it's to no avail.

"Let him go. We'll be fine." Y/n gives him a reasurring smile. He goes to start pouring the ash before she stops him. "Hey." He gave her a questioning look. "What happened earlier?"

"I don't know what-"

"Stiles." She sighed. "I know when you're lying. It's not just the upticks in your heart either, I just... I just know, okay? So, please, don't lie to me."

He sighed and looked away. He was so quiet she thought he wouldn't speak until he did. "My dad was fired." He finally said, although it was a near whisper. "And it's my fault."

She lightly shook her head and hugged him, he practically wrapped himself around her for comfort as the bags were left momentarily forgotten by their feet. "It wasn't your fault." She spoke just as quietly. She pulled away and made him look at her by putting a hand on his cheek. "It wasn't, okay?" At her insistence he nodded a bit. "It'll be okay. I promise." When he managed a small smile she gave him a soft kiss, nothing rushed or heated, but slow and promising she'll be there for him.

When they pulled away his smile was more genuine. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She suddenly grinned as she stepped away from him. "Now, let's catch some baddies." She hauled up the bag of ash and took his hand. "Come on." He grabbed his own bag and she led them to the other side of the building. "I'll go this way, you go that way and we meet in the middle."

He nods with a deep breath. "Sounds like a plan." And then they start pouring the ash, going opposite ways to meet back around at the Jeep. It took a bit but not as long as it would have with just one of them pouring it. Y/n got back around before Stiles had. She figured he was going fast but slowish to make sure he poured it well enough. Y/n caught the last handful of ash in her hand and tossed it forward, finishing her last twenty feet of her half.

She was leaning against the Jeep, waiting for Stiles and keeping an eye out for whoever was creating that gunfire. She had a feeling it was Hunters, but the wolves seemed to be holding their own for now. She heard shuffling and turned to find Stiles as he caught his last handful of ash. "Oh, no." He whined. "What are we gonna do?" He immediatly started going into panic mode. "Y/n, I don't know what to do. There's like 50 feet of ash left and I'm hearing gunfire and werewolves-"

"Stiles, calm down. It's okay."

"How is this okay, Y/n? I've got a handful of magic fairy dust left and it's not enough. It's not enough."

"Stiles!" She snapped once she was in front of him. "It's enough. You have to believe." She spoke more softly. "Remember what Alan said? Just picture it. Believe and picture it working."

"I don't know-"

"Believe in me." She took his hands in hers, carefully curling her hand over the one holding the ash while intertwining the other. "If you can't fully believe in this, then believe in me. I know it will work. Trust me. Picture it." His eyes darted over her shoulder to a bumper sticker with a quote. Imagination is more important than knowledge - Einstein. He looked into her eyes, shining with determination and faith. He trusted her with anything and he believed in her unconditionally. If she believed that the ash was enough, then it was enough.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Just- just imagine." She nodded and took a step back, taking more when he followed. He kept his focus on her eyes, not paying attention to the slow trickle of mountain ash slipping though their fingers until their hands were open and empty. He looked down, half expecting the line to still be incomplete. When he saw it was indeed intact he laughed in excitement. "Yes!" He threw his hands up while Y/n smiled at him. He suddenly jumped onto the back of a car only to hop right back off when the alarm started going off.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a head shake. Her eyes flashed and she snapped her fingers, the car stopped blaring and Stiles continued his happy dance. "Told you."

"You are amazing." He quickly kissed her, making her eyes widen in surpise while he cheered some more.

She shook her head fondly with a smile before grabbing his hand. "Okay, that's enough celebrating. We still have someone to deal with." They made their way to the small area where they agreed to take Jackson when they got him.

Erica and Isaac anxiously watched over Jackson when the door opened. Stiles immediatly putting his hands up when Erica almost lunged at him. "No, no, no! Just us, it's just us." Y/n closed the door behind her and then looked at Jackson. He was seemingly passed out, slumped in a fold out chair.

"Is he okay?" Y/n asked.

"Well..." Isaac went over to him. "Let's find out." He pulled out his claws and went to swipe at Jackson.

"Isaac, wait-" Y/n tried to warn, when suddenly his arm was caught. He grunted in pain and fell to his knee when Jackson's grip was too strong. He managed to pull his arm free and retreat back to the group.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles ordered. Erica nodded while Isaac was still in pain.

"Give me your arm." Y/n held her hand out expectantly. Isaac looked up at her warily. When she gave him a look to urge him forward he hesitantly held his arm out for her. She gently held his hand and carefully held the other over where he was injured, her eyes glowing as she encouraged his healing and healed a bit of it herself so he was in less pain.

"Thanks." He said when she let him go.

"No problem."

"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're going to get." Stiles said. "So let's just hope that whoever's controling him decided to show up tonight."

Jackson's eyes opened. He didn't look at any of them, just stared into space. "I'm here." He spoke although it wasn't his voice. It was distorted and sounded like more than one person was speaking. "I'm right here with you."

Y/n took a step forward, but Stiles grabbed her wrist and gave her a worried look. She nodded in reasurance and he let her go. She crouched down in front of Jackson, keeping a safe distance. "Jackson, is that you?"

"Us. We're all here."

She quirked a brow, glancing at the three behind her. "Are you the one killing people?"

"We're the ones killing murderers."

"So all the people you've killed so far-"

"Deserved it."

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied."

"That can lead to unforseen consequences most often than not. Are all the people you're killing murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Who did they murder?"

"Me."

"What?"

"They murdered me." Erica and Isaac got anxious as Jackson's eyes shifted to his kanima ones. "They murdered me."

"Y/n, get back here." Stiles asked when Jackson's claws came out. She stood and backed up to him. "Okay, all right. More ketamine. The man needs ketamine. Come on!"

"We don't have any more." Isaac held up the empty bottle.

"You used it all?" Y/n asked incredulously. Erica anxiously tapped Y/n's arm and they looked over to see Jackson standing up. Y/n would have tried compelling him back to sleep if someone else hadn't already had control of his mind right then. Jackson screeched at them, half shifted. "Okay, out, out! Everybody out!"

The four rushed out of the room and piled against the door to hold it closed. "Okay, find something to move in front of the door." Stiles instructed. Another screech rang out and a second later the fully shifted kanima broke through the wall and ran away.

"Well, shit."

Stiles and Y/n go back out to the Jeep in the flow of people leaving the party. They step over the line as Derek comes up to them. "Hey, um, so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-" Stiles cuts himself off when Erica and Isaac come out, but they pause when they sense something. Isaac crouches down to look at the ash line, glancing up at Erica. The two look nervous and confused because they can't cross. They haven't experienced mountain ash before. "Oh, my God. It's working! Oh, this is- we did something." He brags to Derek.

Y/n's eyes widen when she and Derek hear Scott's sudden roar. "Scott." She takes off and Stiles looks after her confused.

"What? Where are you-"

"Break it." Derek orders quickly.

"What? No way."

"Scott's dying!"

"Okay, what? How do you know that? Is that why Y/n-"

"Yes! We just know! Break it!"

Stiles drops to his knees and waves his hands down, creating a rush of air that dispersed the ash and broke the line. Derek rushed after Y/n as soon as he could. He caught up to her just as she went into a room. She spotted Scott on the ground as soon as she went in and darted to his side, dropping to her knees beside him. Derek was on her tail but paused just behind her, the wolfsbane in the air having an effect on him. Victoria came from the shadows and stabbed Derek in the back. He groans in pain and turns around, catching her arm before she could stab him again.

Y/n looked up in fear and without thinking she threw her hand up, her eyes flashing as she forced the knife from the woman's hands. Victoria stumbled from the sudden action. She recovered as Derek went for her. They struggled and ended up by the doors where the strobing lights filtered in. Derek growled and bit her in defense before she managed to toss him aside. She ran before he got up. When he saw the Hunter was gone he quickly went to help Y/n carry Scott out of that room.

…

Scott was layed out on the metal table in the backroom of the clinic. Alan had just finished helping the werewolves with Y/n's assistance. Derek sat in a chair against the wall, watching them. Alan lightly petted Scott's head in reasurance. The teen would be fine. "Thank you." Derek said. Y/n looked up at him and smiled.

Alan walked out into the front of the clinic, turning at the sound of a familiar voice. "I can't decide if l admire your sentimentality or despise it." Ms. Marin Morell sat in one of the waiting chairs and looked at him.

"If I want your opinion, I'll make an appointment with the guidance office."

"From the state of things, I think you could use a little guidance. Are you really going to leave all of this up to a couple of kids?"

"They're more capable than you think."

She looked away in thought. "And are you going to tell them what's coming?"

He glanced towards the back room. "They've got enough to worry about."

Y/n sits against the wall of the clinic, resting a bit as she watches over Scott, Derek seemingly doing the same as he rests his head against the wall with his eyes closed. She closes her eyes and copies Derek's position, trying to get some type of rest. It doesn't seem like she'll get it, however. She knows he's there without even opening her eyes.

Peter sits against the wall next to her. "You know, you could do so much more. If you practiced a bit of blood magic you'd be so much more confident in your abilities. You'd be a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm not ready." She muttered.

"You keep saying that, but are you really not ready? Or are you just too scared to try?"

She snapped her head to the side, brows furrowing as she looked towards him, he was already gone. She couldn't help but think of what he said.

Was she scared to try?

Ch.21

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neurodivergent-fox-demon · 6 months

Text

Stackson Week Day 1

The Bleeding Hearts Club

Rating: mature

Other tags: trans lydia, Derek Hale/ Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey/Scott Mccall/Allson Argent , Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Minor Character Death

triggers: fighting, drug use

Please let me know if I need to add any more tags.

Archive of our own

Chapter 1: Bookworms and Delinquents.

Stiles sighed, leaning against his locker. The hall was, like always, overly crowded and he just wanted to get to his next class. He pushed off the locker and began heading toward forensics. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to glare at whoever had touched him. “What do you want?” He glared at the chemistry teacher.

Mr. Harris sighed. “Mr. Stilinski, you have been warned before, but that hair and jacket are not school appropriate. You are out of dress code, again. This is your final warning. Get a haircut this weekend and do not wear that leather jacket again.”

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He shifted his backpack higher on his shoulder and shifted his eyes around the hall. “You really should not have the right to tell me how long my hair can be. I’m not even in your class anymore.”

The teacher frowned. “Stilinski, you are out of line. You have been here for 5 years and are well aware of the dress code.” He grabbed the lapel of the jacket and growled at him. “Can’t you just follow the rules for another 2 months? Your hair cannot be below your ears. Get a haircut.”

“Fuck you.” Stiles glared, ripping himself away from the teacher. “Do not touch me.” He shook his head and began running toward the forensics lab. He looked back at Harris and sighed. That man has hated him since the moment he stepped foot in the Beacon Hills Boy’s academy at the start of his secondary education. He cursed as he ran into someone, feeling a stack of books hitting his feet. “Dammit. Sorry I wasn’t looking.” He looked up to see Jackson Whittemore in front of him.”

Jackson coughed and sighed, pushing his glasses back into place. “It is alright.” He bent down to pick up his books. It was his free period, and he had a lot of studying to do. “Um… where were you rushing off so fast?” He blushed as the other man began helping him to pick up the books.

Stiles sighed, handing the nerd a chemistry book. “Away from fucking Harris and his fucking rules.” He closed his eyes as he stood up. The hall was still so fucking crowded and he just wanted to get to his only enjoyable class. His hands shook as he ran his hand through his hair. “I have to go. Sorry again.” He blew out a breath and began running to his class again. Ha barely made it through the door as the bell rang.

Jackson nodded, watching him go. He fixed his stack of books and headed towards the library. He really did not know who the other man was, but they had been sharing classes now for five years. Stiles Stilinski was a complete mystery to all the borders. All anyone knew was that he was one of the few students who did not live on campus. Jackson was the son of the head master and had lived on campus for all twelve years of his formal education. He hardly knew anything about the world outside these walls. He entered the library and waved at the librarian before he claimed his usual table, opening his classical literature book.

📚

“Mieczyslaw!”

“It’s Stiles.” Stiles groaned and turned around to look at the teacher. He had been at this school for 5 years and everyone still refused to use his chosen name. “How may I help you, Professor Martin?

The teacher smiled at him. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming trigonometry exam? In Calculus, last year, your work was phenomenal. I cannot say the same this year. If you cannot pull off at least a 90% on your final, I will be forced to fail you. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have so much potential Stiles. I would hate to fail you.”

Stiles blew out a long breath and stepped away from her, letting her hand drop. “I’ll try to do better.” He stared around the room, glad that it was empty, except the two of them. “Can I go now? My dad is going to be upset if I am late.”

She nodded and smiled sadly at him. “Yes, please let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Yeah, sure.” Stiles sighed, running from the room. He almost ran into Jackson again as he escaped, but the other student was able to step out of the way. “Sorry.” He grumbled, rushing to his locker. His father was going to be pissed if he was late again.

Jackson watched him with a frown before turning back to the math professor. “Um, you wanted to talk to me, Professor?”

Mrs. Martin nodded, gesturing to a desk. “Would you like a cup of tea?” She walked over to a table in the corner, putting on an electric kettle. She watched Jackson sit as she gathered her thoughts. “Jackson, you’ve been number one in your class for the last three years, Am I correct?”

Jackson nodded. “Yes please. You are correct ma’am. Right behind your son, Levi, I believe.” He took off his hat, placing it on the desk in front of him. “Is that what this is about?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, Levi is a bit annoyed that he can’t seem to catch up to you, no matter how hard he tries. I imagine that your father puts a lot of pressure on you, but no. That is not what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if you are interested in tutoring a student for me. He is in my basic trigonometry class, and is in danger of failing. I would not like that to happen.”

Jackson blushed and nodded. “I do offer tutoring services. I usually charge $25 and hours. I can fit him in, if he agrees to this.” He smiled as he was handed a cup of tea.

Mrs. Martin nodded and sighed. “You see, the thing is, he is a scholarship student, and I am not sure he can afford to pay for tutoring.” She pulled out a chair and sat in front of the other student. “I asked Levi to tutor him already, but he said he doesn’t have the time.”

Jackson frowned. “Who would I be tutoring?”

“Mr. Stilinski. You just saw him, running out of here.” She sighed. “He’s really a really bright student, but he’s been sliding the last year and a half. I really would like it if he graduated.”

Jackson nodded, looking into his teacup. The leaves floated in the shape of a triangle. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Can I think about it and get back to you tomorrow? It’s not like I really need the money, but my course load is quite heavy this semester.”

“Of course, Jackson. Finish your tea, and let me know how your own classes are going? How is your father?”

Jackson chuckled, sipping his tea. “My classes are fine. I will be happy to graduate in two months. Dad is fine. He’s a bit overly taxing about me getting into a good college. I’ve been accepted to Oxford, you know.”

She grinned. “That is great. Levi is heading to the States to study at Brown or Harvard. He has not really decided, but I’m quite proud.”

Jackson smiled, nodding. “That’s fantastic. I wish him luck.”

📚

Stiles ran into the police station and knocked on his father’s door. “Come in.” He sighed and opened the door, stepping into the sheriff’s office. “You’re late. Your shift started 5 minutes ago.”

Stiles nodded, placing his book bag behind his desk. “My trig teacher held me behind.” He went to his desk to start sorting the files. He knew his job was not really going to pay for his college but every little bit helped. Although, at the rate he was going, he was not going to get into college.

“That’s one of the classes you’re failing, is it not?” The sheriff looked up at him, as he sighed another form. “What did she want?”

Stiles sighed, slumping in his chair. “Just to remind me that I’m failing. I’m not sure what I am going to do, dad. I have to get at least a 90% on my final.” He chewed his lip, tongue flicking the clear ring he had on the right side. “I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Noah stared at his son and sighed. “Mischief, you are such a bright kid. You were number three in your class until last year. Talk to me.”

Stiles shook his head. “I’ve got it. I’ll figure something out.” He knew that he was worrying his dad, but he really could not talk about how the anxiety was destroying everything about him. “Maybe I just need to spend more time studying. The math is not that hard, it’s just… I don’t know.”

Noah tapped his pen on his desk. “It seems the only class you are excelling in is forensics. That’s all well and good, but you need to do better if you are going to go to college.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go to college.” Stiles huffed.

The man shook his head. “I know that isn’t true. You’ve always loved school. What’s changed?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Stiles snapped. “Sod off it.”

The sheriff raised a brow at him. “Do not talk to me like that, Stiles. You know I am on your side. I know you’ll be 18 years old next week, but you are still my friend.” He pushed his paperwork away and walked over to his son, “I know Erica dying hit you hard, but in the last year, I’ve seen you ditch all your friends, change your entire style. Where did you even get that hideous leather jacket?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back. “It was in a box of mum’s old stuff. I like the way I dress now. Is it so bad?” He picked up a file and placed it into an envelope for outgoing mail. He knew that he was being a bit of an ass but he did not know how to talk to his father anymore. “Just forget it.”

Noah sighed and nodded. “Alright. Go home, today. There is not much for you to do, and you’re still grounded.”

Stiles cursed and grabbed his bag. “Are you going to be home for dinner or am I on my own?”

Noah shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been quiet. If I’m not home by 7pm, get some take out.” He frowned as he went to hug his son and he stepped back. “I’ll see you later.”

Stiles nodded as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the station. He climbed into his jeep and headed to the edge of town where he knew his friends gathered. One of his mates from primary school was sitting on a pile of rubbish as he walked up a hill. “Hey.”

Isaac smiled sadly at him. “Hey.” He tossed him a pack of cigarettes as Stiles sat down next to him. “How are you doing, Stiles?”

Stiles shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “Fine. Dad is getting on my case. My teachers are getting on my case. You know, the usual.” He leaned back, blowing smoke into the air. “I’m going to flunk my maths.”

Isaac shook his head, rolling a joint. “I hope you don’t. You’re the only one who is going to make something of himself and get out of this hell hole.”

Stiles chuckled. “Dad brought up Erica again. You know, she would kick my ass if she saw how bad it’s gotten.”

Isaac nodded. “She’d kick both our asses.” He lit the joint and passed it to Stiles. “Can’t you get a tutor or something?”

Stiles laughed, taking a drag. “Yeah, like I can afford a tutor. I’m lucky I’m on scholarship or I would not be able to afford school.” He looked up at the sky. “I’m lucky grandfather was a legacy or I would have gotten kicked out a long time ago.”

Isaac chuckled. “Not sure your grandfather is the legacy you want to live up to.”

”Yeah, but it got me into one of the best schools in the five counties.” He grinned and laid back as he relaxed into the drug. “Have you heard from Derek?”

“Not since he and Levi broke up last week. I know that he’s going to the States, but Derek would have waited for him.” Isaac sighed. “I’m giving him his space. He’s usually gone before I wake up anyway.”

“Levi has been distant in himself from everyone. He hasn’t even picked up any of my calls.”

“Yeah, but he’s been avoiding you since Erica died.” Isaac sighed, curling into Stiles’s side. “I have something to share. “Allison and I kissed.”

Stiles laughed, wrapping an arm around him. “Isn’t she dating Scott?” He knew that Isaac craved touch more than anything and he was more than happy to provide it. He was one of the few people he trusted anymore.

Isaac chuckled. “Yeah, but they are polyamorous. I really like them.” He took the joint from Stiles and took a drag. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’d never judge you.” Stiles sighed. He was not sure what else he was supposed to say. “I wish Derek and Levi would talk to me. It’s not like I don’t feel guilty enough.”

Isaac sat up and hovered. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault, Stiles. You have got to stop blaming yourself.”

“We would not have even been out there if it weren’t for me, Isaac.” Stiles sighed,closing his eyes. “I drove us out there.”

Isaac caressed his cheek. “Stiles, we all agreed to go out that night. If it were your fault, It was just as much my fault, or Derek’s. He’s just lost since losing someone he thought of as a little sister. He feels like he was supposed to protect her.”

Stiles chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. “We were all supposed to protect her. I still can’t talk about it, but every time I close my eyes I see her falling. I can’t get through a fucking day without panicking about it.”

Isaac nodded and kissed his forehead. “I know. Look what it is doing to you. I’m the only one who you can stand being around, and I am all kinds of fucked up.” He sighed and laid his head back on his shoulder. “”Maybe you need to go to a counselor.”

Stiles shook his head. “I can’t... I can’t talk about it. Not yet.”

Isaac nodded. “Well, I hope you can before you completely come apart.”

📚

Jackson placed his bag behind his desk and placed his laptop on the surface. He walked over to his bed and fell back, letting out a long sigh. He only had about an hour before he was expected to attend dinner with other boys in his year. He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with their problems today, but he was head boy. He had a job to do. There was a knock at his door and he groaned as he got up and answered it. “Hello, father.”

“Jackson, my boy. How are you doing tonight?” The man walked into the room and looked around. “Just wanted to talk before we went down to dinner, tonight,”

”I’m alright.” Jackson smiled, taking his glasses off and polishing them. “I’ve already completed my homework, and I was debating getting started on a couple more admissions forms, for oxford.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Are you sure that Oxford is really where you want to go? You have so many choices.” The headmaster sat on his bed and looked up from him. “Never mind about that though. The librarian was telling me that you are spending all your time in the library? Don’t you want to spend some time with your mates?”

Jackson sighed, sitting at his desk. “I really don’t have a lot of mates, dad. And the ones I do have, we’re all getting ready for finals. I’m too busy studying and tutoring to worry about that right now.”

The man nodded, frowning a bit. “I’m glad to hear you are keeping up with your studies, and helping your fellow classmates, but you need to make more connections outside of class. You cannot get into politics if you do not make the right connections, Jackson.”

“I know, father. It’s not like I don’t already have a seat in the House of Lords.” He wiped his hand over his face. I just… Don’t I have plenty of time?”

Mr. Whittemore sighed. “You would think but you have two months until graduation. These walls cannot protect you forever and I want you to have the best in life.”

“Yes, father.” Jackson smiled at him. He knew that his father meant the best, but the pressure would eventually get to him and he would burn out at the rate he was going. “One of my Professors wants me to take on another student, pro bono.”

The older man grinned. “Great. I’d say you should do it. It would look great on your applications. Who is it? Does he go here? I’m sure that anyone going here could afford to pay, so I assume he goes to another school.”

Jackson groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Stiles Stilinski. I asked her to give me the day to think about it.”

“I want you to stay away from that boy.” The headmaster sighed, changing his tone so quickly, it had Jackson jumping slightly. “He is bad news.”

Jackson frowned, shaking his head. “He’s quiet but he doesn’t seem that bad. He was number three in our class until last year. Other than that, no one really knows much about him.”

The headmaster shook his head as he stood and began pacing. “He is part of a gang out of north Beacon Hills. One of them got herself killed last year, and Stilinski went around the bend. He has been caught with drugs on campus, and been arrested for fighting on numerous occasions. The only reason I have not expelled him is that I was friends with his grandfather, and his father is the sheriff.”

Jackson frowned. “I… should you really be telling me this? It seems like he needs someone in his corner.” He pulled out his bag and pulled out a notebook. “It won't hurt to tutor him. If I can get him to pass maths, maybe it’ll help him at least graduate.”

David sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I won’t forbid you from tutoring him, if he agrees to it, but do be careful. Don’t let him talk you into anything dangerous.”

“Yes, father.” Jackson sighed, taking a few notes. We should probably go down to dinner. My responsibilities are waiting.”

“Yes, yes. Let’s go. They are serving my favorite pudding tonight.” He chuckled, squeezing his shoulder.

Jackson nodded as he left the room.

📚

Stiles sat at his desk and opened his forensics book. He looked up and frowned as Mr. Hale wrote out some questions on the white board. “I thought we did not have a final in this class?”

Peter looked at him, sighing. “I had not planned on it, but the headmaster is insisting on it. How are you, Stiles?” The teacher smiled, leaning against his desk. “How is my nephew?”

Stiles looked down at his notebook and shook his head. “He is not talking to me right now. He’s not really talking to anyone since he and Levi broke up.” He leaned back and placed his feet on the desk. He wiped away a tear. “It’s alright. I think he just needs time.”

Peter nodded and winked at him. “You all are going to be alright, Stiles. Are you coming over later?”

Stiles chuckled. “I’m grounded, remember? Dad still is pissed about the pcp.” He rolled his eyes and chewed his lip. “Once Derek comes out of hibernation, I’ll let him know you asked about him.”

Peter nodded, sitting on his desk. “I should talk to the sheriff. You’ve been grounded for months.” He looked at his watch. They still had a few minutes before the class would start trickling in. “Chris and I don’t see you anymore. And you know how much Allison loves you.”

Stiles smirked at him. “You see me everyday, Mr. Hale.” He rolled his eyes. “And Isaac keeps me up to date on how Allison and Scott are doing.” He swirled his pen through his fingers. “I miss Chris too, but you don’t need to talk to dad. I think it’ll just piss him off more.”

Peter nodded. “Well, we’ll be having a dinner party this weekend. Chris would love to see you. Maybe he would let you go for the night, hmm? I can get you some really good cocaine and watch the new movie you wanted to watch.”

Stiles groaned. “Fine, I’ll ask him if I can go. I’m sure I can convince him that my favorite teacher invited me to a dinner party.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Will Scott and Allison be there?”

“Of course.” Peter smiled, bowing his head. “And Cora, Boyd, and Isaac are coming. I just wish I could get a hold of Derek.” He shrugged. “He’s really torn up, isn’t he?”

Stiles nodded, pursing his lips. “That’s what I hear.” He looked up as the students started entering the class. “I’ll talk to my dad and call you.” He grabbed Peter’s attendance book and started marking off names.

Peter nodded as he hopped off his desk and began getting ready to teach his class.

Jackson walked into the class and smiled at Peter. “Mr. Hale, could I borrow Stiles, please?”

Peter nodded and motioned for Stiles to get up from grading papers. “Take your stuff with you.”

Stiles sighed and grabbed his backpack, following Jackson out of the room. “What do you want?”

Jackson sighed, leading him out to the courtyard. “Sorry, this is my only free period and Mrs. Martin asked me to talk to you.” He led him to the fountain and sat on a bench. “Please, have a seat.”

Stiles licked his lips and rolled his eyes as he sat beside Jackson. “Let me guess, she wants her golden boy to talk to me… find out why I gave up in her class. I know she wants me to stay away from Levi.”

Jackson raised a brow at him and sighed. “No, actually she asked Levi to help you first, but he doesn’t have the time.” He pulled out a calendar from his bag and smiled at the other man, adjusting his glasses. “She just wants to know if you would be interested in me tutoring you until the final. If I’m correct, you need at least a 90.”

Stiles chuckled, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one and leaned back on the bench. “No thank you. I know how much you tutors cost and I can’t afford it. I don’t want to hang around anyone that I don’t have to. I can’t be bothered.”

Jackson frowned, wanting to tell the other student off for the cigarette. “I will not be charging you, if that is your only reasonable objection. It would only be an hour after school. I just want to help.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, looking the man over. “You want to help? Why would the headmaster’s precious son want to help me?” He took a drag of his cigarette and looked away from him. “Why would Professor Martin put you up to this? I nearly destroyed her little girl.”

Jackson cursed, and slammed his date book on the bench. “There is no reason for you to be rude. You know Levi prefers he/ him pronouns, and is a man.”

Stiles chuckled sadly. “Yes, I was one of the first people he came out to. I helped him pick the name Levi. He was one of my best friends until last year. Do not tell me about Levi. I fucking know all about Levi.” He tossed his cigarette and stood up. “You can take your tutoring and shove it up your arse. I’ll study on my own.”

Jackson reached out and took his hand. “Please…”

Stiles ripped his hand away. “Do not fucking touch me.”

Jackson licked his lips, pulling his hands back, folding them in his lap. “I just want to help, Stiles. I can’t begin to fathom what happened between you and Levi, but I won't ask. I am just here to help you through your maths, and any other subject you might be having trouble with.”

Stiles stood there, holding his hands behind his back. He felt terrible for snapping at Jackson, but he had stepped a little too far over the line. “I have a job. Let me talk to my dad about staying after school to study.” He turned and began walking away.

“I always have this hour free. You can find me at the library.” Jackson called out to him.”

Stiles nodded and waved at him before disappearing back into the school.

📚

Stiles walked into his dad’s office and sighed as he plopped on top of his desk. “Hey, daddio.”

Noah sighed, looking up at his son. “What are you doing here? You have today off.” He pushed his paperwork away, folding his hands on the desk. “And no you cannot go out tonight.”

Stiles groaned, folding his legs up on his desk. “One, the dinner party is Saturday and I was invited by one of my teachers. Just think about it. Two, I needed to ask you about staying after school to study. Mrs. Martin arranged a tutor for me. But you can say no. I know I have a job, and…”

“Stiles. You’re fired.” Noah smiled. “I want you to study.” The sheriff raised a brow at him. “And let me guess, this teacher is Peter Hale, the uncle of Derek Hale.”

Stiles frowned at him. “You can’t fire me. I need the money for college. And you like Peter. It’s just one dinner party and don’t you think I’ve been grounded long enough?”

“We’ll talk about college later.” The sheriff sighed. “Peter is fine, but you were arrested for carrying angel dust, Stiles. Do you know how dangerous that drug is?” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “Who else is going?”

”Cora, Boyd, Isaac, Scott, and Allison.” Stiles grinned at him. “We’re trying to get Derek to go, but we can’t get a hold of him.”

“Fine, you can go, but I want you to come directly home.” The sheriff smiled at him. “If you are lying to me about this party, you’ll be grounded until you graduate. Do you understand me?”

“I swear. It’s on the level, pops.” He grinned. “Now about the job? Because I really need the money.”

The sheriff sighed. “You have not applied to one college, Stiles. You need to graduate, and I would rather the money go to a tutor than your cigarettes. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been smoking.”

Stiles chewed his lip. “He’s not charging me. It’s not like it’s illegal to smoke.”

“Then what is the problem? Please, just take his help.” Noah chuckled. “For you it is. You are 17 for another week.”

Stiles groaned. “It’s no big deal. Can we not argue about that? I do not want to hang out with Jackson Whittemore for an hour a day.”

The sheriff raised a brow at him. “Jackson? The headmaster’s son? I don’t think you can turn this opportunity down, Stiles. He is a good kid, and he will make sure you pass your classes. Do you want to spend another year in high school? If you repeat a year, you’ll have to go back to Beacon Hills High school. Beacon Hill’s school for Boys has been amazing for you. You don’t want to screw that up.”

“Pops. I… How do I put this? He is posh in carnet. He is bred for politics.” Stiles sighed. “I could just study harder, and ignore all that.”

Noah shook his head. “If you want me to lift your punishment, you’ll start studying with Jackson. I’m sorry, Mischief. Those are my terms.”

Stiles cursed. “Fine, but I am going out with Isaac tonight.”

His father nodded. “Fine. Be home by 10. I would like to not worry about you tonight. Please don't come home smelling like pot.”

Stiles grinned, hopping down from the desk. “Thanks daddio. I promise that I won’t do any drugs tonight. Just a few drinks.” He chuckled running out of the office.

“You’re under age.” The sheriff grumbled. “Dammit. Don’t drink and drive.”

📚

Stiles chuckled, tossing back a shot of tequila. “Isaac, I swear. My dad is all hung up on this tutor thing. I have to spend an entire hour a day with Jackson fucking Whittemore,”

Isaac sighed, sitting in his lap. The club was not very crowded on a Thursday night and they both were feeling a bit loose at the moment. He leaned his head on his shoulder. “It’s only an hour. You will survive.” He took a sip of his beer. “Jackson can’t be that bad. We don’t know him and you are jumping to conclusions.”

Stiles chuckled, wrapping his arm around his waist. “Yeah, I really don’t know much about him, but he is the headmaster’s son, and a complete nerd. You should have seen him today when he offered to tutor me.” He rested his chin on Isaac’s head. “We are from two different worlds.”

“You’re not dating him, Stiles. You are just studying.” Isaac smirked as he squirmed in his arms. “Your dad is right, Stiles. You don’t want to flunk out of school.” He kissed his chin. “You’ve got this, babe.”

Stiles nodded. He ran a hand through Isaac’s hair and sighed. A man walked by them and grumbled something about the club going to hell with fags. Stiles growled at him and stood up, placing Isaac back in the chair. “You got a problem with us?”

The man smirked, getting in his face. “This club does not need faggots stinking up the place.”

Stiles laughed loudly. “Trust me, this place does not help stinking up the place. You are doing a pretty good job yourself.” He pushed the man back. “Just go on your way and let us enjoy our night.”

“Did you just push me?” The man growled, pushing him back.

Isaac stood up. “Come on guys. Let’s just go our own separate ways.”

“Sit down, Isaac.” Stiles growled, glaring at the asshole in front of him. “I’ve got this taken care of.” He knew that Isaac hated violence, but he would not allow anyone to push them around. ”You think you can come in here and be a homophobic asshole? Where do get the fucking balls? Cause from where I’m standing you’ve got none.”

The man cursed and threw a punch at him. Stiles laughed as he ducked and punched the man in the stomach. About five minutes later Stiles had been thrown into the table and the man was being pulled off him. Isaac helped Stiles up as the bouncer began throwing all three of them out of the club. Isaac sighed, glaring at Stiles. “You just could not let it go, for once? they just let us come back to this place and we’re going to get banned again.”

Stiles sighed, wiping blood from his lip. “You are so used to letting people push you around.” He took the other man’s hand and began walking back to his Jeep. “You’re driving. I have had too much to drink.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and sighed. “You can’t fight every asshole who insults you.” He took the keys to the jeep and helped Stiles into the passenger side. “I’m sleeping over, and you should get some ice on that eye.”

“Yeah, I’m sure dad will be cool with that.” Stiles sighed, leaning back in his seat.

📚

Stiles groaned, sitting across from Jackson, “Fine, I’ll let you tutor me. My dad seems to think it’ll be good for me.” He glared at the man sitting across the table.

Jackson frowned, looking the kid over. “What happened to your face?” That was probably a bit rude but he was not really sure what else to say.

Stiles chuckled, pulling out his trigonometry book. “It was nothing but a little bar fight. Some homophobic asshole. Trust me, he got the worst of it.”

Jackson nodded, opening his lap top. “Oh, I did not know you were gay. That’s cool I guess.” He blushed, bringing up his notes. He had no idea what he was saying. This was not a topic that he knew a lot about. He went out with a few girls but he just did not have time for dating and he never could find a connection with anyone. “So… should we get started?”

“I’m not gay. I’m just an equal opportunity lover.” Stiles smirked, winking at him. He chuckled as he pulled out his notebook. “I suppose. I think we have a practice test monday. I wasn’t really paying much attention yesterday.”

Jackson's blush deepened. “Um…okay. Maybe that is your problem, paying attention in class.” He smiled, pulling out five notebooks. “These are my notes from when I took Trig, last year.”

Stiles frowned, leafing through the notebooks. “This is like 3000 pages of notes. Do you want me to write a textbook?“

Jackson chuckled. “It’ll help you learn trigonometry.” He shook his head and sighed. “Maybe I could break it down for you a bit more.” He looked at the notes flipping to the section Stiles class was currently studying. “This is the bit that you need for the test on Monday.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and began reading over the notes. “I know all of this, I just can’t seem to remember it when I take the tests. Honestly, I’ve never been this bad at tests before.” He looked up at Jackson. “Do you think you can just give me the answers?”

Jackson gasped, shaking his head. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and sighed. “That is not exactly how this works, Stiles. That would be cheating. You’re never going to learn if I give you the answers.”

“But you have them, don’t you?” Stiles smirked, twirling his pencil between his fingers. “I can make it worth your wild.”

Jackson closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could not believe this guy had ever been any sort of competition for him. “Mrs. Martin gives the same test every year, but I am not going to just give you the answers.” He looked up at Stiles. “Why don’t I just let you read over the notes for the weekend and I’ll quiz you before her class, Monday.”

“No can do, baby doll. I have a party tomorrow night.” He smiled. “There has to be a way for us to come to some sort of agreement?”

“If you are not going to take this seriously, I don’t know why I am going to waste my time.” Jackson growled at him. He rarely lost his temper but this kid was really starting to get on his nerves. “I know that you are capable of passing this class, Stiles.”

“You know nothing about me, Whittmore.” Stiles scoffed and closed the notebook. “You’re right. We don’t need to waste either of our time.” He gathered his books and stood up, ready to leave. “Fuck you.”

Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. “Let me talk to Mrs. Martin and see if we can’t reschedule your test and you can study here Monday instead.”

Stiles glared at him for a moment before letting his shoulders drop. “Fine. Why don’t we try one more time?”

Jackson licked his lips and nodded. “You have to really commit here, Stiles. I won’t sell you the answers, but if we buckle down, I can guarantee that I’ll have you pass your final.”

Stiles slumped in his seat and nodded. “Give me the bloody notes.”

📚

Jackson sighed and threw his bag under his desk. He laid on his bed and looked at the ceiling. Once he had broken down the test with Stiles, the tutoring had gone a lot smoother. He could not understand Stiles Stilinski. He was smart, but he had zero work ethic. He took off his classes and closed his eyes. He had developed a bit of a headache and he just wanted to go to bed.

There was a knock on his door and he groaned as he got up. He answered the door and smiled. “Hey, Levi.”

Levi smiled at him. “Jackson… Can we have a little talk?”

Jackson nodded, gesturing for him to come in. “Of course, Levi. You are always welcome.” He went and pulled out a chair for him before sitting on the bed. “What did you want to talk about?”

Levi sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “My mum is so excited about me going across the pond for college. I have the opportunity to go to Brown or Harvard. I should be excited right?”

Jackson nodded. “But you’re not?”

“… Did your dad ever tell you what happened a year and a half ago? Levi sighed. “It was right before I came out.”

Jackson shook his head. “He told me the other night that Stiles got your friend killed,”

Levi shook his head. “It wasn’t Stiles’s fault. He blames himself, and he really went off the rails about it. He started pushing us all away. Anyway, he had just gotten his license and we all went out partying. We went out to the preserve… and up to the cliffs.” Levi licked his lips. “We got so drunk, and Erica tripped. She fell so far. Stiles blames himself because he suggested we go out to the preserve and he got ahold of the beer.”

Jackson chewed his lip. “He could not have predicted that would happen. Why are you telling me all this?”

Levi sighed. “I don’t want to leave with all of us still so distant. I broke up with Derek because of all of this. We’ve been dating for four years and I dumped him because I could not handle the pressure anymore. I mean I’ll be leaving and I don’t want to make him wait for me. I did not tell my mum that I also got into Oxford. Maybe I should stay here.”

“That is completely up to you, Levi. It seems like you have a lot to think about.” Jackson smiled and took his hand. “I suggest you talk to your friends though. I think Stiles really needs help, Levi.”

“I know.” Levi groaned. “We used to be such good friends and I feel like I let him down because I was going through so much. I feel like a terrible friend.” He felt like he was really letting everyone down.

“You’re not terrible.” Jackson smiled. “You were hurting too. All you can do is reach out and try to make things right now. Now, about the three colleges…” Jackson chuckled. “Your mom will be happy with whichever you choose. She is so proud of you.”

Levi nodded. “I guess I’ll call Stiles. Allisoon said something about a party tomorrow night. Do you want to come?”

Jackson shrugged, shaking his head. “No, I wasn’t invited, and I would hate to intrude.”

Levi laughed. “I’m inviting you and you would not be intruding. It’s at Professor Hale’s house. He’s married to Allison’s father and they throw dinner parties all the time. Mr. Argent always says the more the merrier.”

Jackson smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. The only parties he had ever attended were business functions for his father. “If you’re sure. Should I bring anything?”

Levi shook his head. “No, just yourself. I’ll text you the address, and I’ll let Mr. Hale know you are coming.

Jackson grinned at him. “Thank you for the invitation, then. I would love to come.” He chewed his lip. “Can you tell me a little more about Stiles… He confuses me.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at him. “I really don’t know who he is anymore. He used to be my best friend. Now he does nothing but drink, party and fight.” He chuckled softly. “He’s pretty hard to forget, isn’t he. He gets under your skin. “ Levi smirked.

Jackson sighed. “I just feel like he doesn’t want to rise to his potential.”

“Oh, he doesn’t, Jackson. He is on a path of self destruction. I wish I could tell you differently. I’m just glad my mum has been keeping an eye on him when I couldn’t.”

Jackson chewed his lips. “If you say so. Your mum has me tutoring him. She said you did not have the time.”

Levi gaped at him. “She never asked me, actually. I guess I can see why. We haven’t really talked in so long. Isaac is the only one who really talks to him anymore.”

“Isaac?” Jackson smiled, putting his feet on the bed.

Levi nodded. “His father was the swim coach, but he is in prison now.” He blushed softly. “Isaac doesn’t really like to talk about it, but Mr. Lahey used to beat him and lock him in an old freezer. Derek found Isaac in the freezer and reported it. Derek’s mom Talia took Isaac in.” Levi sighed, curling up in the chair. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

Jackson nodded. “I knew Coach Lahey went to prison, but I never knew why. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

“But Stiles never stopped being there for Isaac, and he was the same for Stiles.” Levi smiled. “I don’t think anything could break the two apart, but Stiles gets him into so much trouble.”

Jackson sighed, nodding. “Sounds like they’ve had a hard time.”

“But that is no reason to self-destruct.” Levi groaned “Stiles got himself arrested for angel dust. How stupid is that?” He looked around the room sighing. “He’s so stubborn. He would not even let his father know where he got it. He’d hate it so much if he knew that I know all this, but the Sheriff gives me updates.” Levi sighed, wiping his eyes.

Jackson shrugged. “You sound like you really care for him.”

Levi chuckled through his tears. “I love him. He is still my best friend.”

Jackson smiled. “Must be nice. I’ve never really had that.”

Levi blushed. “I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, I… I guess we are. I mean, I like that you feel comfortable enough to confide in me.”

Levi nodded. “You’re a good listener. All the boys in this house think so.”

Jackson shrugged. “It’s not hard to offer an open ear.”

Levi chuckled. “You are so weird.”

“Thanks… I think.” Jackson laughed. “So, there is a party tomorrow. What should I wear?”

Levi grinned evilly. “Oh, you have to let me pick out your outfit.”

To be continued…

#stacksonweek2024 #stacksonweek #jackson whittemore #stiles stilinski #tw: drug use #tw: self destructive behavior

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redjaybathood · 5 months

Text

First days of school came and went. Jason adjusted his hours at the diner, leaving himself only afternoon shifts and one full on weekend. The classes - well, some of them were easy, like History and English, some hellish, like Science or Econ (mostly due to their respective teachers), some awesome, like Math. He was with Lydia Martin, Jackson's girlfriend, in that one. They weren't particularly friendly, just nodding acquaintances. Jason wasn't sitting with them at lunch. It was just - that first day of school, he was still reeling from the party the night before. He wanted some quiet.

So he sat with an equally quiet guy, Boyd was the name he went by - and that's basically all he knew about him, because no parties were particularly into chatting.

He nodded at Jackson and Danny when he noticed them, same as with Scott and Stiles, or anyone else he met at the party. But that was, thankfully, it.

Between classes, he hang out at the bleachers, mostly. There were some kids who smoked there, but they left him alone and he did the same. He wasn't the only loner there, either. A curly-haired guy who was in Chem with him - Isaac - was napping in the sun there, like a cat. Somehow he was still pale as shit.

Jason had to wake him up one day - they had Chem next period, and the bell would be in a few minutes. But just as he put his hand on the shoulder, Isaac momentarily jumped up, wide-eyed. Almost fell off.

Jason backed away. It's not that he recognized something - there could be a lot of different explanations for such a reaction. Some people were more skittish than others. For some, yeah, it was a trauma response, but not necessarily domestic abuse.

"You okay, man?" he asked. "We're going to be late for the next class."

"Who are you?" Isaac asked.

"Greenberg, we have Harris's class together."

"Well, fuck off, Greenberg."

That was that. On the weekend, when Jackson and Danny were running with him (Jason did it every day, but not for physical training, but to calm down his mind), Jason tried to ask around Isaac's situation. It was honestly not his business, and Jason knew Isaac himself wouldn't be thrilled with it, but. You take a boy out of Gotham and all that.

"Lahey? Yeah, I know, we're neighbors," Jackson said. "You say he's sleeping on the bleachers? Figures. His dad is a big fucking asshole. He owns the graveyard, makes Isaac work for him."

"He was coaching the swimming team like six years ago," Danny added. "He was okay then."

"But then he drowned in a bottle, after half of his family died - first the wife, then Isaac's brother. So yeah, they kicked him out."

"Yeah?" Jason probed. "Is there anything else going on? Isaac looks kinda skittish."

Danny and Jackson exchanged a look.

"Isaac Lahey? He's one of the meanest SOBs at school. But yeah, I guess. My dad suspected that Lahey not only loved to drink, but also to slap his kid around. Reported it, even."

"And?"

"And nothing, Stilinsky's dad is as useless as the son."

And that was everything Jackson knew.

Jason, though, had the Sheriff's card, and had a notion to call him up for a reason, feel him out. It's just it didn't feel right to use Isaac for that reason. Jason knew firsthand how such cases can go south. Even if Lahey Senior was heavy handed and mean drunk. Even if he was brought up on charges and lost custody. It didn't necessarily mean a happy ending for Isaac.

So he tried to approach him first.

Isaac, for his turn, didn't eat lunch alone. He was sitting with a mousy kind of girl. Grey clothes, grey hair, no make up. He nodded at her when Isaac didn't respond to his greeting, introduced himself.

"Erica Reyes," she offered in return.

And then nothing else. Well, Jason could work with that. He really could. He started talking about himself moving here from the East Coast, how it took him awhile to get used to all the sun. Said he wanted to move to Los Angeles, after his parents died, because he had a friend there. But he couldn't afford it. So he chose Beacon Hills, found a job. Jackson's dad - you know Jackson, right - helped with getting out the foster system.

Erica looked like she didn't know why Jason was telling her his life story, but was too polite to stop it. Isaac, Jason noticed out of the corner of his eye, was still looking angry. But he didn't leave, so Jason counted it as a win.

"You know, most of the people who stay in shitty situations, they think they don't have options," Jason said. "I thought so for a long time, too. I had no relatives who could take me, or who I would trust to live with. And foster system - there are very different people there, who are in it for a lot of different reasons. I was scared. And I would understand if others were scared of it, too. But it's not the only option. I'm renting a loft on the Northern side of the town, by the way. The rent is pretty affordable, but I was thinking of finding a roommate, anyway. Do you know anyone who would be interested, Erica?"

Erica looked at him, then at Isaac. It wasn't a "You're in?" though, it was a "Can you believe this guy?" look.

"No," she said. "I will be sure to let you know."

Isaac said nothing at all.

Well, Jason knew his people skills were shit. Breaking heads were much easier than breaking convictions, for him. He wasn't like Dick.

So, he decided to do what he did best.

He did wait for the end of the week. Isaac started to go around when he saw him, much like he did with Stiles, Jason noticed. That didn't necessarily say anything about Isaac home situation, and could just as well be about Isaac finding volumous people who ranted in nonsequiter on random topics annoying.

Every night, Jason stacked out Lahey's house. He didn't hear screams or anything like that. He did follow Lahey father and son to the graveyard and back. Lahey was spending those nights in the office, and Isaac outside, digging graves with heavy machinery. No wonder he was always sleeping in school.

But, again, nothing criminal except for child labor.

And then, during the PE, Isaac's shirt riled up when he shot a ball in the basket. He had bruises on his hip. He tugged the shirt down and looked around. When he saw Jason looking, he scowled, then approached Coach Finstock. Jason didn't know what he has said to him, but Jason was running laps until the end of period.

On Sunday, when Jason had a day off at the diner, he broke into school. Checked Isaac's attendance records, grades all through elementary to high school. Medical records, what there was of them. His file from the guidance counselor office. It was all circumstamcial. Wouldn't be enough for the Sheriff to open the case. Might be why he didn't, when Whittermore first reported it. Jason found that he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt - that Isaac's father was a bad apple, that Sheriff wasn't corrupt, or indifferent. That he really didn't have anything to hold Lahey Sr. for.

Jason broke into their home while they both were at the graveyard. Saw Cadmen's room. Practically a shrine. Saw Isaac's. It was minimalist, if Jason felt charitable. He wasn't particularly, no. He noticed the lack of any pictures of the dead wife and mother. Checked her death certificate - natural causes, apparently. Checked the computers, the DVDs in Lahey Senior's room. Nothing suspicious.

Nothing out of place in the whole house, as though it wasn't really lived in. He checked everything on the first and second floor. The only place he didn't check was the basement and the garage. There was little time before the owners of the house were due to get back, so he needed to decide, quick, where to go. He opted for the basement - breaking into a garage would be easier, he could do it later.

Turned out, he didn't really need to do it later. The basement held the prize - the evidence - that Jason was looking so hard for. But... He really wished he was wrong instead. That Gotham twisted him to see darkness everywhere, made him paranoid. Would that be fucked up? Sure. It would be much better than Isaac being locked in a freezer for god knows how long, though. Long enough that the nail marks changed their placement - long enough that Isaac grew up.

Yeah, he was calling the Sheriff, and if he lets Jason down? Jason would be paying Lahey household another visit, this time when the host was home.

***

Sheriff agreed to come by the diner. Joked about Jason not updating the blog for too long, Stiles cooking blanched broccoli again.

"I don't know what you mean," Jason said. "Blanched broccoli are delicious. But yeah, I was busy with something else. That's actually why I called you about."

They were sitting in one of the boots. Jason took his break early, now that there wasn't a lot of guests. He was drumming his fingers on the coffee cup that was on the table before him, waited until Sheriff drank from his own. Avoided looking at him.

"Everything alright, son? Someone giving you trouble?"

"No," Jason said, finally catching Stilinski's gaze.

He figured he pretended to be nervous enough, it got across. Now he needed to see Sheriff's reaction.

"Jackson Whittermore said, his dad already approached you about it in the past. It's about Isaac," he added. "I think he's in trouble at home."

Sheriff sighed and nodded, closing his eyes minutely.

"Whittermore called in a noise complaint. Privately shared his concerns. We checked the house, didn't find anything. Isaac refused to testify against his father. There was no bruises on him. So..."

"No evidence, no crime, huh? Well, Isaac has bruises now. And did you check all of the house? Did you check the basement?"

"What's in the basement?" Sheriff frowned.

"You will see."

"It doesn't work like that," Sheriff grimaced. "I can't just search his house without an order, and your testimony won't be enough, I'm afraid."

"You can, if you're called in again - for a burglary, perhaps."

Jason saw that the Sheriff got it immediately.

"Now, son, don't do anything rash - something like that gets on your permanent record, then even if you aren't tried as an adult..."

"Tried? They would need to catch me first."

"Me, it's me who would need to catch you."

"You won't, don't worry." Jason got up. "Anyway, I don't know what you're talking about. I was just talking hypothetically. I'm gonna be partying with Jackson and Danny on Friday. Half the school would be there, I'm told, except for Isaac, because Isaac never goes to parties. Or anywhere, really, except to graveyard. At night. Because that's apparently how his dad saves money on hiring adults. Just be sure to work on Friday, okay? There might be underage drinking, or something."

Sheriff didn't try to talk him out anymore. Anyway, that wasn't the test. Even arresting Lahey Senior wasn't the test. Jason practically gift-wrapped him for the Sheriff.

The test was, what the Sheriff would do with this later, with the information Jason allowed him to glimpse about himself.

***

The op went without a hitch. Jason showed up at Jackson's house, made a show of drinking cola out of the solo cup, talked to Danny for five minutes before taking a bathroom break. He got out of the window on the second floor, crossed to the Lahey's house. Broke from the back, making sure not to make noise but to set up the silent alarm.

When the cop car appeared on the street, he sneaked back through the same window. The party, when he went downstairs, was in disarray. People thought the cops were after them, maybe, because they ran away, leaving only Jackson, Danny and Lydia to quickly hiding any trace of alcohol. Well, the guys were on the clean up duty, Lydia was standing by the window.

"What's going on?" Jason took a trash bag and joined Danny in picking up the plastic cups, while Jackson was hiding the beer and the liquor.

"You were gone so long, I thought it was you who called the cops on us," Danny smiled.

It wasn't quite a joke, though, Jason saw it in how he wasn't quite turning his body to him, and the tense set of shoulders.

"Nope," Jason shook his head. "Was in the bathroom all this time. Beer didn't agree with me."

"You never even finished the cup," Danny said quietly, not looking at him.

"I'm a lightweight. Didn't I tell you before? My old man was very strict. I never partied before."

" Jason," Danny stopped. Stopped cleaning up, stopped smiling. "You didn't finish your cup. I know what you've been drinking. So unless you were forbidden any caffeine as well..."

"They aren't going here," Lydia said from her vantage point. "Something happened at the neighbor's place. Well, that's a waste of the evening."

She fell down onto the couch, petulantly crossing her hands over her chest. Jackson, after a few choice words, joined her there in a sulk.

Danny started to pick up the trash again, and Jason, too. Shit, he thought. Fuck. That's what you get for thinking you're smarter than others. No matter how experienced he was, this wasn't Gotham. He wasn't wearing any mask. What he did tonight could very much jeopardize his cover - his life. And he might have fucked up things with Danny, too.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "Everyone's gone, but you know what this means? More booze for us."

"You don't drink," Danny said.

"Sure I do," Jason insisted. "Starting now. What do you say, we play some kind of drinking game? Like, uh, put some sports on, and drink everytime your team has a goal... Or something..."

Jackson snickered.

"Cute, Greenberg. We're convinced. You know sports. It's when, uh, goals."

"No, no, let's do this!" Lydia clapped her hands. "But let's play truth or dare."

"Uh," Jason said.

"You don't want to play anymore?" Danny asked mildly.

"What the hell," Jason murmured. "I'm being peer pressured. I was warned about this. But sure, yeah, let's do this."

"You can't choose dare for more than three times in a row," Danny said.

"Is that a rule?" Jason raised his eyebrows.

"It is, now."

"Not an issue to me," Jason said. Like a liar who lies, etc.

But oh well.

***

Jason made a point of chosing only truth.

Danny made a point of not asking, actually, where he has been. It left Jason frustrated. Not that he planned on telling, or relished in an opportunity to lie to him - to them. But it was like Danny was driving home some point, and Jason was still missing it.

"Okay, Jason," Lydia said, after he chose truth again. "What's the worst thing you did?"

"I don't think I can answer that without my attorney present. Or even with him present."

"Your confession wouldn't be legally binding, though," Jackson pointed out. "So just - tell us. We won't testify against you in court, that would be hearsay."

Lydia ruffled his hair lovingly. Danny, Jason noticed, was looking at him with some guarded expectation.

"Alright," Jason said. "Let me think."

"Have you committed that many atrocities?" Lydia asked, huffing a laugh.

Jason shrugged.

"By whose standards? Society? Sure. Some parts of it anyway. My father? Definitely. My own? Well." He really went all over the list on his head.

He did commit.any horrible acts - in all those parallel universes. Killed people in cold blood. Attacked teenagers younger and much younger than him. Put kids into a danger's way, or at least proposed to.

Fucked with Bruce's mind, brought him to a breaking point, and he broke - just not in the way Jason expected or needed. But in a way that left Jason dead, Joker - alive, and laughing, laughing, laughing, while everything around them went up in flames from Jason's own bombs.

He smelled a sweet, mellonny aftershave. Felt a warm hand on his face.

"You alright, man?" Danny asked him, Jason heard, and the laughter was gone, the smoke was gone. "You don't have to answer, you know. You don't even have to drink anymore."

"No, it's alright," Jason said, taking a sip. "I just don't know what to choose. I did a lot of stuff I won't necessarily advertise. Some things may get me in trouble. It's just, by and large, I'm not ashamed of them. They weren't that much horrible, if they were done for the right reasons, yeah?"

"Did you murder someone?" Jackson opened his eyes wide. "Shit, Greenberg, if that's it, do me a favor and don't, in fact, tell us."

"Nah," Jason said.

Felipe, in this universe, was the only one - and even he wasn't Jason's murder victim per se. Manslaughter at worst. Jason really spooked him, when he tried to punch him in the face. Felipe was sampling his father's product on the regular, it was the same that night. He freaked, jumped back - only he was on the balcony, there was nowhere to jump but down. Eighty floors down. Was that Jason's fault? No, Jason reiterated. Gloria Stanson's suicide was his fault. Garzonas Jr was... A bastard nobody would have missed, except his father, who made him into this in the first place.

"No murder. I won't say I was always on the straight and narrow, but it never came to that."

"Is that why your father was so strict with you?"

Jason shrugged.

"Might have. He got me out from the streets, basically. Was worried that the streets would stay behind, underneath all that fleur he tried to drown me in."

"Street?" Lydia echoed.

"Well, yeah," Jason took another swing from his glass. "I'm - I was adopted, didn't I say?"

Jackson slowly shook his head.

"Well, I wouldn't, would I. I don't like to think about it. He was still my real father, you know, despite all his - paranoia, sometimes psychosis, that he projected onto me. Because he wasn't really worried that I'm going to start stealing again - he understood that it was just means to an end, for me. And he never acknowledged that he knew why I had two priors, or why my arresting officer let me go both times, after some time in the interrogation room with a turned off camera. Maybe he never knew, never suspected. We never talked about it. Anyway, that wasn't what he was worried about. He had this - mean streak in him. He was a good guy, you know, saving puppies, donating to charities. Soft spot for kids and outcasts, provided they weren't violent."

Jason closed his eyes. Didn't want to see their faces - pity, disgust, or just simple incomprehension. Didn't want them to see his eyes glistening, either. He ought to shut up, he ought to run away. But he wanted to tell them, tell someone - he wanted to stay.

"That's the thing. He didn't like violence, if exhibited by other people. Himself, he - that mean streak I mentioned? If you pushed his buttons, or if he was already on edge for some reason. Let's just say, he put more than one guy into intensive care. Although never in the morgue, don't think. He could stop in time. And me - well, he was worried that I wouldn't. That I will be like him - and I was, a bit, if you push my buttons. Kids, women, drugs, I don't like that. I don't like that at all. So he was worried that I'm gonna do something horrible to someone, something he had stopped himself from doing, just barely, always wanting. We shared that."

And then Bruce thought that Jason jumped all over the line he drew on the Gotham's quicksand. And Jason just fell down there. And drowned on a dry land.

Jason opened his eyes.

"Sorry, what I was saying?"

"It's fine, Jason," Danny said quietly. "You don't have to explain anything more. Let's get you some water, and get you to bed."

***

Jason stayed at Jackson's. He regretted drinking that night very much - not because of what he said, he didn't remember what he said. That was the problem; no, he made a recording of everything that went during the drinking game exactly for that reason, but still - a stupid risk. Almost burned his identity down.

But in a way, it made his alibi more thorough. He was very visibly hangover when a deputy took his statement. So, his story about drinking too much, puking his guts out upstairs, and then crashing at Jackson's house stood. No, sir, I don't know about any robberies. Are the owners alright? You can't say because of the open investigation, I see.

And that was that. Neither Lydia, nor Jackson or Danny brought up the events of the last night when Jason brought them to the diner, for the hungover cure breakfast Reddy swore by.

But Jackson sneaked at him glances all throughout. And when it was time for them to go, and for Jason to took up the shift, Jackson awkwardly half-hugged him before running after Lydia.

"We're cool?" Jason asked Danny with apprehension.

Do you forgive me for lying to you, he didn't say.

"I'm sorry," Danny said. "We shouldn't have made you drink."

"Hey, I made myself drink."

"Still. We shouldn't have continued asking you stuff after it became obvious that you're - sharing more than you would otherwise. I know what it's like, a bit."

"Over sharing?"

"Having a past," Danny said. "One I don't exactly advertise. Jackson knows, but that's because his father was my lawyer."

"You don't have to tell me," Jason shrugged. "If you want to do it just because it feels unfair - don't worry about it. You can tell when it feels right. It felt right for me yesterday."

"That's just whiskey cola speaking."

"Yeah, well. At least it was in a small group, and you guys won't talk about my sad street rat past, right?"

"Street rat, right," Danny said. "Of course. No, we wouldn't."

Jason knew Danny meant something other than that. Knew that those three probably figured out who exactly broke into Lahey's house, and why. Still. Danny said he wasn't going to say, and Jackson had some kind of emotion about it, so he probably wouldn't, either. And Lydia... Well. He just had to trust into her discretion. And anyway, there wouldn't be any DNA or fingerprints to tie him to the crime scene. Unless Sheriff Stilinski really cared about his office's closing rates, Jason was nowhere near hot water.

That's it, he said to himself. It's the first and the last time he was doing any kind of maskless Robin shit in Beacon Hills. Provided there were no red flags from the Sheriff, after the bait he fed him.

But Jason's worries about the Sheriff were moot. He still showed up at a diner once a week, talked with Jason for a bit - never about that conversation. But a bit about how Isaac was doing (foster placement with McCalls for now, looking into emancipation). A bit about regular stuff like asking about Jason's grades - steadily rising, and whether he was going to try out for the lacrosse team - he hadn't decided yet, needed to watch at least one game before that; he wanted to join cross country though. Stuff like that. Inconsequential, meaningless things that nobody else really asked Jason.

Things were quiet, up till at the tail end of the Fall, someone started to kill deer off in the Preserve.

#jason todd #dc comics x teen wolf #my fics

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