#Isaac lahey series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

renjunniex · 8 months

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Party Guessed

Prompt: Scott is hurt, Jackson isn't easy to stop, Lydia's birthday is coming up. And to top it all off, the full moon is tonight.

a/n: I read through this once and edited it so I hope I got all the mistakes

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It took a while but Isaac had finally calmed you down, Erica had left and even though Stiles wanted to stay because he was worried about you, Isaac had convinced him that he would take care of you.

"Are you sure?"

By now you had yourself tucked into Isaac as Stiles talked to you. You nodded wiping your tears away, "Yeah, Stiles, I'm fine. You should go home and rest. I need to find Scott and then I will too." He hesitated again before slowly nodding, you didn't see it but Isaac and Stiles had shared a knowing glance like some kind of exchange that just said 'make sure she's safe'.

Stiles had finally left and it was just you two. You guys sat in silence and he just caressed your hair. Even though no words were being exchanged between you, it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable. Even with all the dried tears on your face and the sniffles, it felt right to be there with him.

"How you doing, baby?"

You were startled by the nickname, you had heard him call you that while you were whaling but you hadn't thought he would keep calling you that. "What happened to 'your favorite girl'?" Your voice was so hoarse and it hurt to talk but you couldn't help but joke.

He chuckled at your question, "You can still be my favorite girl and be called baby."

You giggled, "I know, just teasing."

He smiled softly at you, you were still in his arms curled together on the floor. His hand was on your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, "Nice to see you back to yourself, if you're ready we can walk to the station, Derek will probably take Scott there after." You tilted your head up, nodding lightly, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Sure enough when Isaac and you reached the Hale pack hide out both Derek and Scott were there.

"Scott! Are you okay?" You crashed into the boy's back, who let out a gasp from the impact. He turned around and his eyes widened, "Have you been crying, what's wrong?"

"She was worried about you," Isaac had caught up with you, standing behind you two. "But I'm okay now, you're okay so everything is good," you hugged the boy once more. When you pulled away, you noticed Derek staring off into space, "You guys were having a serious moment, weren't you?" Scott tilted his as if he wanted to say no but in reality it was a yes.

"We can't save Jackson." Your head snapped to Isaac and then back to Scott, "I'm sorry what?"

"We can't seem to kill him either," Derek mumbled. "I've seen a lot of things Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every full moon is just gonna make him stronger."

"Then how do we stop him?"

The Alpha shrugged, "I don't know."

"Maybe you should just let the Argents handle it then," you chimed in sitting on a chair.

"I'm the one who turned him, it's my fault."

"Yeah but you didn't turn him into this," Scott argued, "This happened because of something in his past, right?"

"That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple." You crossed your arms in annoyance, "What do you mean?"

"What are you not telling us," Scott asked at the same time as you.

"Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?"

"Because you always ARE keeping something from us!" The both of your voices had resonated, it had even startled Isaac. "Well, maybe I do it to protect you."

"Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets," Scott asked quietly.

"Go home, Scott. Take (Y/N) too. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe. Cause the full moon is coming and with the way things are going, I got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one."

It was officially spring break and that meant Lydia's birthday was almost here. Much to your surprise, there was a box on your porch from the red haired girl. She had sent you a dress to wear to her party tonight. You thought it was sweet considering you two weren't really friends. You were planning on going to her party so the gesture made some sense, unfortunately, you would have to leave early due to the full moon.

Derek had asked you to find something for the Betas to get through their first full moon, he had mentioned a spell and while you couldn't find anything like that you were able to find a type of potion to deprive them of their senses and calm their minds.

This morning you had decided you should probably pay the newly formed pack a visit, especially since you needed to let Derek know what you found and your plan. Which is why as soon as you got up and got dress you were on your way to the abandoned station.

You walked down just in time to here the pack talking once more, you did always seem to do that. "It's a spiral. Reminds us that we can all rise to one or fall to another. Betas can become Alphas, but Alphas can also fall to Betas or even Omegas," Derek explained.

"Like Scott?" Isaac stood looking at Derek.

"Scott's with us."

"Really? Then where is he now?" Derek looked at the Beta, "He's looking for Jackson. Don't worry, he's not gonna have it easy tonight either. None of us will. There's a price you pay for this kind of power." Derek picked up the chains, which you had recognized to be the same ones you had seen before, "You get the ability to heal. But tonight you're gonna want to kill anything you can find."

You had walked further into the room as Erica joked, "Good thing I had my period last week, then?"

You saw Derek pull out another chain, this one had a large circle and spikes on it, "Well this one's for you." You cleared your throat to let your presence be known and the whole pack turned towards you. Derek had nodded at you, like a peace offering on some kind, "Did you find it?"

You pointed at him, "The spell, no. But I did find this potion type thing that's able to deprive someone of their senses for purposes like this.

Derek looked relieved, "Thank you, do you have it?" You shook your head, "No, it takes a little bit of time to prepare and I just found it the other day. Deaton is helping me though to make sure it's perfect, should be ready tonight."

"Okay, thank you, bring Scott tonight, I might need some help." You hissed slightly, "Oh, yeah that might be a problem."

"What do you mean?"

You sat on a crate nearby as you began to explain, "Well you see, Lydia's birthday is tonight and Allison and Stiles are making us go. So Scott's gonna probably be busy with that and the whole finding Jackson thing." Derek had given you a deadpanned look, unimpressed by your answer. You raised your hands in defense, "Hey, don't look at me like that, they're making me. Lydia's even pressuring me," you leaned forward like you were gossiping to a group of best friends, "She sent me a dress and it was on my front porch this morning. I mean now I have to go, right?"

You scanned the room and almost everybody in the room was amused by your words, except for of course Derek. You sighed, "Don't worry, I'll be here to drop off the potion stuff tonight, I'm not gonna stay there for very long." Derek finally excepting defeat and just nodded walking away.

Erica and Boyd starting to converse from across the room and Isaac made his way to you slowly. You stood quickly, trying to play it off as best as you could. He made you nervous, especially now that you could let your guard down around him.

"You're going to a party?" You nodded slowly, confused since you had just finished talking about it, but when you looked up into his eyes, you saw it.

Jealousy.

"And Stiles and Scott are going too, right?" You nodded once more this time slightly more amused. "Yes, they are even if they weren't going you don't need to worry, I'm not gonna go around dancing with guys." His eyes widened as he realized he had been caught. You grabbed his hands softly pulling him a little closer and whispered, "When you get this whole full moon thing down, there will be nothing stopping you from being my plus one to every party."

Your words had gotten him flustered, you could see it in his eyes and in the way his cheeks glowed a little redder. It was like the old days, with the soft shy Isaac you knew before, "Walk me out?" He nodded his eyes just focused on you like a trance.

You had gotten ready for Lydia's party, of course wearing the dress she had given you, and you were at the clinic before you met up with Scott and Stiles.

"So, you added a little bit of rosemary to the water and then what," you asked watching as Deaton crushed the rosemary and threw it in the bowl. "Evening primrose, it's native to America and the oil extracted has been know to be quite anti-inflammatory. When combine with a Nymph's magical energy it was discovered to be able to affect supernatural species however they choose depending on the concoction," he laid whole petals into the water.

He turned and opening a cabinet, pulling out a Bunsen burner and rigging the small bowl above it. He looked at you and pointed to the bowl, "Rosemary is known to heighten concentration and memory, it will allow them to remember their human side more. Normally you would want to let the flowers ferment in the water for a week to allow the water to naturally be flavored."

You looked at him as he turned on the flame, then water instantly starting to steam, "But since we don't have time for that, heating the water will just have to do, it won't be as effective but with Derek and you there I'm sure it'll do the job." He gave you a smile before sliding your book over to you.

"You mean with Derek there, I'm still useless in a fight," you muttered, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you saw Deaton open the book. "Not anymore, I'm going to help you learn a basic offensive spell that uses a similar technique to your barriers. Since you've become more familiar with that and your natural talent, it should pretty easy for you to catch on." Your hand gripped the table, finally, you wouldn't be useless. You could actually hold your own, protect your friends.

"Okay, what do I do?"

He guided you away from the table and into the open space, he stood next to you. "For the most basic offensive technique you keep your hands here," he showed you, his elbows bent and his palms facing out, "You then will push out like your pushing someone away from you."

You copied the movement that you were very well acquainted with, considering you were constantly pushing Stiles around. "This doesn't seem that hard," you commented.

"The movement no, the build-up and timing will be."

You gave the man a confused glance, "What do you mean?"

"You essentially have to build up, in simple terms, your magic power to use this. What you're doing is using the amount of power you allow to either push an opponent back or even strike them. If you don't put enough magic pressure into, you could very well die to an enemy."

Your lips pursed, "Ah, there's the catch, it's never gonna be easy is it?" He chuckled, "No, unfortunately for you, your powers are all about balance. It's all tedious strategy and technique. Now try for real, let your power run through your veins and into your palms," he gestured into the open area.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to feel every ounce of the power you spent so long keeping down. It felt like a weight had been lifted and you felts tingles in your hands. You took the stance and pushed with as much force... nothing.

You tried again.

Nothing.

"Why can't I get it," you groaned.

"Relax, you have time. When you build a barrier what do you do?" You huffed at his question, crossing your arms, "Well, I imagine the energy flowing around whatever it is, that seems to work best." He nodded and pointing, "You see, just as I had said to Stiles, the imagination is a wonderous thing, do that and try again."

Shaking your limbs out to loosen up, you took another breath. A few nervous hops later and you brought yourself into the stance once more. You went through the motions, this time even with your eyes opened, you imagine the same iridescent glow you're used to. You pushed it out and this time...

You felt a blast whish passed you, blowing your hair. Everything on the shelves rumbled and shook, clattering around. "Yes! I did it!"

"And just in time too, the water is ready. All we need is just a spark of your power and it'll be good to go." He had bottled the waters into small vials and raised them up to you. Maybe it was the happiness of everything but without even thinking you raised your hand and instantly the vials shined your usual iridescence. When you realized what you did, your eyes widened, "It seems you're becoming more comfortable with who you are," Deaton smiled, "Now, I believe you have a party to go to."

"Hey! Allison! Wait up!"

The dark haired girl turned around to see you running, well trying to at least, to her. You were in heels and while you didn't have problems with walking, anything faster was immediately not as easy. "Damn it! Why did she send me a dress," you complained adjusting the fabric, "Normally I wouldn't say anything but tonight is not the night for me to be wearing something even slightly inconvenient."

She laughed at you giving you her arm, which you gratefully took, "You're still helping Derek tonight?" You nodded patting your little purse which held the vials, "Yep, sadly Derek created a problem that he needs others to help fix." Allison nodded along, "Yeah it feels like this whole semester has been about Derek and his pack."

You scoffed, "Tell me about it. We also never get to hang out anymore either so it makes it that much more impossible to not focus on the Derek problem." Allison smiled at you, you two really hadn't been that close recently. When she first came to Beacon Hills, you had easily befriended her (mainly for Scott you will admit) and even though she had hung out with Lydia and Jackson, it never deterred you from the girl. She was truly your closest girl friend if you were being frank.

"Well I'm glad you're here, I've missed being able to hang out," she said tugging you further up the driveway. You reached Lydia's front door where she had greeted you both with a smile, a smile that made you slightly uneasy. You chalked it up to the fact that you just weren't close with the girl and went back to scanning the room for Jackson, and your best friends.

"I'm gonna do a walk of the house, see if he's wandering about," Allison said pointed in the distance. She started walking off when you nodded, "I'm gonna look for the boys, be careful."

"You too."

She was now gone and you once more let your eyes wander the backyard, this time you had actually seen the two boys you were looking for. They had just made they're way outside when you reached them, "Hey."

They acknowledged you, "Have you seen Allison?" You nodded at Scott, "Yeah, we came in together." Scott went to ask you another question but he was quickly shut down by the clicking of heels, you turned to see Allison walking back up to you, "Uh, Jackson's not here."

"Yeah, no one's here," Stiles observed the backyard and he was right, it was eerily quiet. "Maybe it's just early," Scott suggested.

"Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town wack job," Stiles expressed. You kissed your teeth and gestured to the boy in agreement, your eyebrows raised. "Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks," Allison said.

"She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years," Scott argued and shrugged. Stiles tried to defend himself, "I prefer to think of it as me not having been on her radar." You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Scott made an unconvinced look, "We don't owe her a party."

"What about the chance to get back to normal?" The question shocked Scott, "Normal?"

"She wouldn't be the town wack job if it wasn't for us," Allison countered. You held up your hand, "Now hold on. First, just want to clarify, not against throwing her a party, it's her birthday. But it's not our fault she's gone coocoo for Coco Puffs, alright? That was all on Peter. Peter is the reason any of us are even in this mess to begin with, so she can blame him like the rest of us."

There was a silence after you made your point and you broke it once more, "Now that I've made my point let's throw her a good party," you said offering Allison your support.

"I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here," Scott had relented. Stiles nodded as well, "Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like really going." He dug into his pocket for his phone and Allison tilted her head, "Who?"

"I met them the other night. Let's just say they know how to party."

You chuckled catching on to who he was referring to, "Well then I'm sure this party is going to be in good hands. Chop, chop, people, let's go."

Soon enough Stiles' and Scott's called guests had made it and now the party was much more lively, you were pretty sure you could slip out now without Lydia noticing. You were standing with Stiles and Scott, watching as Allison stood across the pool with Lydia.

"Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what," Stiles asked. Scott's head snapped up to look at the boy, "Why should I apologize?"

"Because you're the guy. It's what we do," Stiles pointed out. You snorted at his answer and it caught both your best friend's attentions, "More like, you've made her feel ignored for the past couple of weeks."

"But I didn't do anything," Scott said cluelessly, you shook your head with a slight roll of your eyes as Stiles continues, "Well then you should definitely apologize. See, anytime a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong it means he's definitely done something wrong." You nodded this time, "Now, that, is true."

Scott grumbled, "I'm not apologizing." You nudged the boy slightly, "Is that the full moon talking, buddy." Scott looked at you and agreed, "Probably."

"Why do you guys care, anyway."

"Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here," Stiles emphasized, "I mean, we're getting our asses royally kicked, if you haven't noticed. People are dying. I got my dad fired. You're gonna be held back in school. This one is in love with a nut job," he gestured, "And so am I. If on top of all that, I gotta watch you lose Allison to a stalker like Matt, I'm gonna stab myself in the face."

"Hey, I'm not in love with Isaac," you exclaimed. Stiles scoffed, "Yeah, okay sure, I never said Isaac, Mrs. Denial." You went to argue again but was cut off by Scott standing, "You know what, you won't need to stab yourself in the face because I'm gonna do it for y-."

"Don't stab yourself in the face."

Both you and Stiles paused, looking at the Omega, "Why not?" Scott didn't look at Stiles, "Because Jackson's here." You three looked across the pool and there he was just staring at you guys. You blew out a stream of stressed air, "Alright, that's my cue to leave. You guys got this?" Both nodded wordlessly, keeping their eyes on Jackson.

Leaving the party was pretty easy actually, you got out like the Flash and now you had to deal with your anxiety of being in abandoned train car with three crazed out Betas. You had rushed into the car to see Erica and Boyd chained up in the back huffing from rage and Isaac and Derek in the front.

"Okay, so I see I might have been a little late," you said awkwardly.

Derek gave a pointed look, "Yeah, no kidding." Isaac however looked much more relaxed than before, still you could see he was definitely struggling. That's when you heard the two Betas in the back to cry and scream. The noise made you wince as you crouched down next to Derek and in front of Isaac.

"How do you not feel this," Isaac gritted his teeth.

"I feel every second of it," Derek had basically snarled. That didn't stop Isaac from shooting back, "Then how do you control it?"

"Find an anchor. Something meaningful. Bind yourself to it to keep the human side in control," Derek instructed tightening the chains, he jutted his chin out to other set on Isaac's other side and you got the message. You took the other chain and began to tighten it as best as you could.

"What is it for you?"

Derek took a pause before answering the Beta, "Anger. But it doesn't have to be that for everybody."

"You mean Scott?" You nodded slowly and whispered gently, "Scott's is Allison, even just the thought of her is able to calm him down." Derek indicated that you were right, "Alright, that should do it," he declared.

You opened your little shoulder clutch and grabbed the three vials, "Here, if you can get these two to take it now, it should help calm them down." You handed him two bottle and he nodded starting to get up but then he was interrupted by a loud break. Isaac had broken the seat holding his chain, he gave you both a knowing look.

"Go, get out of here," Derek urged you and before you panicked even more you opened the third vial you still had, "Take care of those two, I'll be okay." He didn't even respond as he was already moving to the back. You looked at Isaac who had sweat dripping from his forehead, "You need to go, it's not safe." You shook your head sitting on the chair, "Do you trust me?"

Isaac didn't even hesitate before agreeing, "Okay then I need you to drink this, okay?" He nodded and tilted his head back slightly and you poured it into his mouth, resting your hand in his hair to support his head.

"It might take a moment but it should kick in soon," you didn't get to see his reply because Derek had rushed towards you, grabbing your forearm and dragging you out of the train car. You could hear all their screams as Derek left a voicemail for Scott, "Hey Scott, could you call me back, I think I'm gonna need some help." Cue the violent and guttural growls and screams from Derek's pack.

"I thought you said it would help them?"

"It will but it's gonna take some time for it to kick in, it wasn't that strong since I couldn't properly prepare it."

Derek nodded, "Definitely gonna need some help." He unleashed his claws and walked inside the car. You followed closely and quietly behind, Derek had side stepped to stay out of Isaac's slash. You stayed in front, out of the away but also because your body ran cold, the sight of a blood thirsty Isaac terrified you.

Erica and Boyd had broken free and started advancing towards Derek. You had gotten distracted and hadn't even realized that Isaac also broke free until you heard the crunch of metal and the smash of glass. You lifted your hands up protecting your face from the flying shards, "Isaac!" He had already jumped out and you couldn't afford to take care of him yourself, not when Boyd and Erica were currently slashing at Derek, who was on the ground.

You had a clear shot to hit at least Boyd, maybe if you could get him off Derek, the Alpha would be able to fight off Erica himself. You focused your energy trying to make sure your blast was gonna be power and then when you were ready you pushed it out, watching as the glowing blast knocked Boyd off and made him forget about Derek. Only then did you realize that meant Boyd was now on you.

Derek had done exactly like you had thought and started to fight off Erica. You on the other hand were currently using small blasts to at least keep Boyd back. "Boyd, listen to me, I don't want to hurt you. Please, just calm down!" The Beta didn't listen, he snarled before raising his hand high to bring it down for a big slash. When he made a dash for you, you were prepared to feel something since you had no time to push him back.

But you never did.

Instead you heard another crash and felt someone shove passed you, you opened your eyes to see none other than Isaac holding Boyd down against the seat. He acknowledged Derek with a nod, letting him know he was in control. Things calm down once Derek had also knocked Boyd out and locked him and Erica back against the pole.

Isaac calmly sat in his old seat just staring forward, his eyes glowing. You sat next to the boy while Derek began to rechain him. "I think you'll be okay now," Derek started, "Looks like you found an anchor." You noticed in the corner of your eyes him direct his gaze at you but you paid no mind to it, only keeping your focus on the boy in chains.

"My father."

Your eyes widened. You didn't know what you were expecting as his answer but it certainly wasn't that. You saw the same confusion on Derek's face, "You father locked you in a freezer in the basement to punish you." He had said it as a statement but it sounded more like a question.

"He didn't use to."

Isaac set his hand down in his lap and Derek jangled the chains to confirm its security. "Go, take care of them, I got this," you said softly to the dark haired werewolf. He silently looked at you before walking away. You hesitated for just a moment and then you lightly rest your hand on top of Isaac's. "I'm glad you found an anchor, although I wasn't expecting it to be your dad." His head slowly rotating to you, "It's not."

You eyebrows scrunched and you tilted your head, "But you just said-."

"I lied."

Nodding slowly, you adjusted your position, sitting more comfortably, "Okay... then what's your anchor?"

"You."

"Me," you whispered, "but how-." He cut you off once more, "When I ran out, I heard your heartbeat pick up. You sounded so scared and I came back to myself instantly. I had to come back, to protect you, to make sure you were safe. Nothing else mattered." Your whole body dropped out of awe, you're sure you looked lovestruck by now. How do you not after hearing that?

"If it weren't for the audience back there and outside, I would totally kiss you right now."

The boy chuckled lightly, "Guess I have to wait until morning then."

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a/n: hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo @mxltifxnd0m

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mayfieldss · 4 months

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secret santa 🎅

Isaac Lahey who works at a Christmas tree farm 👀

I was kicking my feet with excitement as soon as you sent this.

It had been a long shift, and there were only so many Christmas songs that could be played on repeat before it began to drive a person mad. Isaac was cold through, his leather jacket not quite enough to keep him comfortable as he showed people around the farm, helping them pick out the perfect tree for their home.

He wasn't in a bad mood exactly, but as the day dragged on he wasn't exactly joyful. His feet hurt, and so did his cheeks as he forced a smile to everyone that walked by him. Every "happy holidays!" spoken in his direction was met with the same grin and a gentle wave, and at first it had felt honest, but now it was more like an act. He wanted to be at home, in the warmth of his bed, not surrounded by people.

That was of course, until you showed up. He didn't know why you made him nervous, or if the zoo bustling about in his stomach was rather a bad meal from earlier instead of the so called butterflies, but he felt something when he saw you. Something good.

"Hey!" you waved cheerily as you approached him. You were approaching him. oh god. "I want the best Christmas tree on this farm, where would I find that?"

Isaac was stuck for a minute, staring, until he saw a familiar face by your side. Lydia Martin, the redhead sending him a knowing look.

"Well, how big is your living room?" Isaac asks, trying not to sound as though he's scrambling for words.

"Average living room size I believe." there is a laugh with the words and Isaac grins at the sound of it. It's better than any of the Christmas music he's heard over the past month. Sweet sounding and hopeful.

"Right this way." Isaac leads you and Lydia off to some of the tallest trees, and watches as you look up at each one, inspecting them as though the decision is of the greatest importance. It is important to you that you find the perfect tree for your home. One's Christmas tree can make or break the Christmas spirit of those invited over, you believe.

"What'd you think of this one Lydia?" You ask your redheaded friend, who already has her own tree at home and isn't much interested in the outing. What she is interested in however, is the current presence of Isaac Lahey, in particular the way he is looking at you.

"It's a nice tree, a little the small side though." She glances to Isaac, "What are your thoughts?"

"My thoughts?" Isaac startles, eyes flickering between the two girls before him and the tree beside you all. "I think it's a tree—a good tree. Tall." He doesn't know exactly why you're having this effect on him, but he can tell Lydia is enjoying the show. She always did like to watch people squirm.

You're smiling, now not at the tree, but at him. "It is tall," you agree, "But is it tall enough?"

"Well you've gotta make sure you can still decorate the top of it, you don't want it to be too tall." He's slowly sliding back into normality, back into doing his job. He's watching you, and you're watching the tree. The slow nod of your head and the squint of your eyes tells you're deep in thought about this and when you finally turn back to him you seem uncertain.

"Are you sure it's tall enough?" you ask, knowing Lydia's opinion is different to your Christmas tree guide's. You have a step ladder for the tall parts of the tree to make decorating easier but you think if you go any taller it won't be of much use. Still, a tall tree is a good tree.

"Trust me," Isaac smiles, "it's tall enough."

And the crazy thing was you did trust him, and soon enough you were transporting the tree to the car. Lydia was only a little upset that you hadn't taken her opinion on board, but she was more so intrigued by the way Isaac stopped you before you could get into the car. He called your name, of which he had recently learnt from hearing Lydia speak to you, and jogged up to your side.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you something." His breath comes out in a fog from the cold, his cheeks tinted a light pink, and the look on confusion on your face is masked by the sweet smile you'd shown him before.

"Yeah?" you seem to know where this is going, courtesy of a glance from Lydia on the other side of the car.

"I was wondering if I could get your number? Maybe we could get a coffee sometime, if you're interested?" He's nervous, but trying not to be. Playing it cool is his specialty, or at least he thought it was. Now he's not so sure.

A gentle laugh leaves your lips, but not in a mocking way. You're glowing, sunlight covering you, though that could just be his imagination. "Sure, I'd love to." You pull out your phone and Isaac does the same with his own, and the exchange of digits is fast.

"I'm Isaac by the way." Isaac extends a hand to you after you've put your phone away, and you take it, giving his hand a firm shake.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Isaac. I'll see you soon." You let go of his hand and send him a wink before opening the passenger side door to the car.

"Yeah, see you soon." Isaac parrots back as you slide inside, the car starting as you go to leave the farm. It had been a long shift, but Isaac felt hopeful now, and as another Christmas song began to play over the speaker, he decided to sing along.

I hope you like it Gillian, Merry (late) Christmas!

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liel28 · 6 months

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"I had a father but I never had a dad."

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cmnzoq · 9 months

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teen wolf characters in my style 1/?

#the betas #teem wolf #hale pack #erica reyes #vernon boyd #isaac lahey #doodle #teen wolf fanart #erica reyes fanart #vernon boyd fanart #isaac lahey fanart #my sillies #this series thingu is jjst a way fpr me to show how i imagine all the charcaters #hehehhe #boyd n isaac are 6'3 and 6'4 while erica is 5'4 #meowowww

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wolfboy88 · 2 months

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Moodboard: All Together Now I & II

(Isaac x Liam x Scott x Theo)

For @teenwolfrarepairevents character of the month

@thiamsxbitch cos I know how much you love these losers ;)

#yes I finally gave the series a name #The Polygamous Adventures of Thiaacott #And a ship name too!#twrarepair #twrp character of the month #thiaacott #thiaacott moodboard #thiaacott aesthetic #teen wolf #teen wolf moodboard #teen wolf aesthetic #isaac lahey #liam dunbar #scott mccall #theo raeken

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bunbunbl0gs · 1 year

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Issac

masterlist

teen wolf masterlist

join my tag list here :)

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angel-girl-2014 · 3 months

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#teen wolf #isaac lahey #vernon boyd #erica reyes #deserved better #void stiles #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #allison argent #lydia martin #teen wolf season 3 #teen wolf series

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kingofangst · 5 days

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The Wings Of An Enigmatic

HELLO MY WONDERFUL SUBJECTS READERS!!! I am extremely sorry for the delay of this story, but life has had me on a grip and I have been going through ups and downs recently, as well as utilizing my career more. But pas d'inquietude! I have returned. (Plus I am learning French before I plan to go to Paris). Here is Chapter 5 of the The Wings Of An Enigmatic and this is the longest chapter I have written so far for this season. Expect some surprises.

Notification tags: @rhyslahey, @thiamsxbitch, @unsanedes, @mmoosen, @phantomraeken, @isaac-not-isaac

If you would like to get notifications regarding this series for each chapter, comment below so I can add you in.

Chapter 5: Mistakes Are Learned

"-Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."

"-Since when you became Einstein?"

"-Since when were you so interested of my input on the matter? I presumed humans were nescient."

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(Flashback - 10 years ago…)

Shouts and chatters of kids in the colorful classroom felt a tad bit intimidating. The lemon and oak scent permeated the classroom, filling his nostrils while the sun illuminated the room. Despite him being ironically the tallest 6-year-old in the 1st Grade, seeing so many of them playing, coloring a crayon book, being rowdy with each other as sneakers and chairs squeaked on the waxed tiled floors made little Isaac feel smaller. The only reassurance is that he sees Matt drawing a picture and absentmindly talking with someone…another kid with light sunkissed skin, who was creating a vertically shaped masterpiece of Lego blocks, vividly styled as a building to have foundation and support. The kid beside the intricate puzzles of blocks was someone that Matt became friends with this weekend.

Isaac takes a closer look at the kid and he notices how orderly and noble the kid is acting. With combed hair, tailored white long sleeve button down shirt, followed by black dress shorts, white ribbed calf socks, and black loafers. He looked like a kid who was a genius combined with the flair and fashion sense of a 1940’s child. A rich kid in basic terms.

“Isaac! Hey Isaac!” The excited tone of Matt reached his hears, standing up abruptly to see him. “Come quick, there’s someone you gotta meet!” The little grubby hands grabs Isaac’s much softer ones, dragging him forward towards the genius-like child. “Isaac, meet my new friend, Seraph. Seraph, this is Isaac, my best friend since daycare!” Matt’s cheerful declaration did not solve the newfound nervousness Isaac developed as the kid, Seraph, stares at him with gray eyes. Gray eyes that held mystery in them, that looked cold and aloof, that could literally scare a kid and have them scram immediately. Yet the innocence in them was visible and they were shining with curiosity, how did Matt become friends with this one?

The ambient noise of mindless chatter and cheers from the other kids served as the contrasting backdrop. It highlighted the uncomfortable silence between Isaac and this debonair kid, a pin drop could have resonated loudly between them. Seraph’s eyes seemingly judging him, eyeing him like he was an experiment that needed to be tested. Seraph lets out a small puff of air, and then he parts his lips.

“So you’re the best friend that Matthew here excitedly chatted about and wanted me to meet? I do find your bravery and choice of friends admirable and intriguing.” The professional and intelligent tone of the boy was unbelievable. How did this kid talk like that? No, why did this kid talk like that? He is speaking as if he were a full-sized adult, it baffled and spooked Isaac. “Do not be afraid. I also wanted to meet you as well and request if I can be your friend too. Can I…Isaac?”

Despite Seraph’s confident tone, he senses a slight uncertainty at the end of his question, along with the innocence lacing the child’s voice, as if Seraph felt like he was scaring him away. He wasn’t scaring him, in fact he was captivated by the way Seraph was talking and…whatever Seraph was building, which looks like a three-dimensional construction of a building that is entirely made out of lego. Not a single impairment within the foundation. The reassurance of his words ‘do not be afraid’ allowed Isaac to drop down his emotional walls to get to know this new person.

“I am sorry, but if I am scaring you Isaac, then I understand if you do not wish for me to be your friend-”

“Wait, Seraph-”

“Um no! No y-you aren’t scaring me…it’s just that Matt here is the only friend I really talk to…” Isaac trails off in shyness, kicking his feet on the tiled floor. “I don’t really talk to the other kids in this class.”

“I see,” Seraph hums, pausing at the playful atmosphere before him. His eyes scatter to see the different kids that are of their ages, playing with toys, stuffed animals, etc. Isaac felt that Seraph was different. He saw that Seraph was different, by the way he looked, the way he spoke, the way those gray eyes observed the room like a hawk. He was very perceptive and for someone who is 6 years old, already advanced and ahead of himself, Matt and the rest of the class. “I suppose we find ourselves in similar circumstances, both not forging connections with our peers or engaging in social interactions within our class, excluding Matt of course.”

The unexpected combination of this kid’s appearance coupled with the swift and adult-like articulation of his words left Isaac puzzled. Just what kind of 1st Grader talks like that? It did make Isaac more interested in the well-dressed child who now has his hands folded neatly on his desk surveying the scene before him.

“Yeah Zac, um Seraph talks like that alot and while it does sound weird, this is his way of talking to other people. He always says “do not be afraid” too.” Matt butts in, his face contorting an odd expression. The privileged youngster tilts his head in confusion.

“It’s the way I present myself and communicate. Is there something wrong with my wording and how I converse?” Seraph asks, and despite how sharp and voidless his gray eyes were perceived to be, Isaac could see hints of nervousness in those orbs. The dapper boy looked composed and concealed with a flair of affluence and suave, yet he could sense just how odd and out of place Seraph felt, just like Isaac.

“My name’s Isaac, which Matt already told you but just in case y-you forgot. Nice to meet you, and I wanna become friends with you too.” Isaac holds out his hand for a shake, a dopey smile on his lips. Seraph looks at the hand, then up to Isaac’s face, before eyeing his hand again. Then he glances back up and suddenly there is a sight to behold in front of him. To Isaac at first, he thought kids like Seraph would never laugh and smile due to their aloofness and callous nature. But Seraph’s faint smile is an anomaly Isaac witnesses, but the most peculiar thing was how bright Seraph’s eyes seem to be from this. He could have also sworn he saw the child’s eyes give out a violet hue within them before shifting back to gray, but he couldn’t tell. Maybe that was the sun’s reflection in the room and it had a mirage effect on his eyes. Seraph shakes the former’s hand with that faint smile being replayed over and over.

“Seraph Kingfisher. Even though by now, Matthew here must have relayed to you my legal entity already but I am merely letting you know who I am at your request of friendship and getting to know you. After all, you and I are alike when it involves anti-social tendencies.” Seraph explains too much for Isaac’s brain to process.

“You forgot about me being here, too.”

“My apologies, and let’s not forget Matthew. In this particular sense, you serve as the bridge to our new friendship and the expansion of a broader, diplomatic relationship to me and Isaac’s emerging friendship, contributing to your more social disposition.” Seraph replies to Matt’s jest.

“Sometimes I wonder how you talk like that.”

“My parents raised me with class and manners. It’s proper etiquette, and a sense of code for respect and to treat others the way you want to be treated.” Isaac could only stare at how dutiful and respectful Seraph is with the intelligent and proper language he spoke with the inclusion of professional body language. Seraph was like a walking book of knowledge.

“Is something amiss, Isaac? You seem quite parched and dazed.” Seraph’s straightforward question startles the young curly haired boy.

“Oh no—it’s nothing. It’s just…I am kind of happy you don’t see me as a kid who is a little taller than most of the kids here. And…I am happy we’re friends now.” Isaac stammers out, gaining confidence at the end of his sentence.

“So am I Isaac, and no there is nothing wrong with you being a tall 6-year-old. To me, I concur that you have been born with blessed genes that make you an able body person.” Seraph compliments, gazing at him softly. “While Matt here is artistic and sociable. An ambivert with a curious and thoughtful personality.”

That compliment made Matt shuffle his feet, a sight Isaac only sees when Matt gets shy or embarrassed. “Um thank you, Seraph.”

Isaac returns his gaze back to the affluent elementary kid, who is now switching the Lego between the hand constructed building. There was something about Seraph that made him admiring and cool to look at. Was it how he was dressed? His posture? How he was easily able to build a Lego building in real world detail? The way he was speaking to him? He didn’t know, nor could he make an accurate decision on what he felt, but all he did know was that he didn’t want to separate from Seraph. He wanted to be best friends with Seraph just like he’s best friends with Matt. Because he can see just how different Seraph was from the others.

Pursing his lips together, Isaac sits beside Seraph. “Can I…play with the Lego? Help you build this building?” His voice comes out soft and shy, despite having just become friends with him 5 minutes ago.

The boy in question glances at Isaac, his gray eyes boring into Isaac’s blue ones, with a gentle gaze that held a touch of bewilderment, contrasting how sharp and cutthroat they looked. It suddenly dawned on him that he might be treading on delicate grounds, the perplexed expression from Seraph signaling a possible misstep in their evolving rapport.

“Sorry I shouldn’t have asked if you wanted to play with me if you wanted to play-”

“No,” The interjection of Seraph cuts off his next words, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never had anyone inquire or offer to build something with me, and that is the reason.”

He nods at the former’s response slowly, before his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “Not even Matt? I mean I know he likes to draw but he’s friendly to ask.” He points to their friend who shrugs.

“I am not really good with Legos, or building something huge like Seraph’s building here.” It’s Matt’s response that Isaac hears. He hears the other kid shuffle in their seat. “Perhaps I can teach you, Matt.”

Seraph speaks to the aforementioned boy who glances back. “I can even help teach you as well Isaac so that you can be able to build impressive toy architects such as this example.” The other two boys look at Seraph in awe, as if they have just seen a video game on the window-sill and as if it’s calling their names to purchase it.

“Sure, I wanna learn how to build!”

“Um, I guess so…I mean will it be hard to build it because…” The shy boy trails off looking at Seraph’s design, “mines ain't gonna come out like yours.”

“That is the exact reason why I stated I will teach you how to build a complete lego set.” Seraph sends him a wry grin, snickering while finding Isaac’s boldness entertaining. Isaac’s cheeks flush in embarrassment at his words.

“There is a saying: practice makes perfect. Hence, I will be helping you, so you can learn and master how to build a three-dimensional building, such as my design concept.” The intellectual words, followed by a formal tone of proper punctuation echoes to both Isaac and Matt. Well more Isaac. He sees just how amazing his new friend is, even wanting to teach him how to build a set of blocks just for fun.

Three 6 year-olds in their own world, learning from their new friend on how to build an actual building out of legos. To everyone else, they were just playing blocks. But to Isaac, it was a new friendship, a bond that felt warm, contrasting the icy gray eyes of his new friend. He was never good at making friends honestly speaking, his introverted personality made things difficult since he was in daycare with Matt, who became his first friend out of sheer courage.

But Seraph…he was different. Different than any kid in the 1st grade, and it wasn’t because of how he dressed, it’s how quiet but observant he was, how smart yet proper he was, how intimidating yet soft he was, and he could have easily said no to him for playing. But…he didn’t, he even surprised Isaac by saying he never had anyone asked him to play with him or build with him before, and to many other kids in their classroom he looked frightening because of his eyes and stone cold face, but not to Isaac.

To 6 year-old, introverted and shy Isaac, he was mysterious and alluring. Plus, he gave Isaac something he never had before: confidence. Because he never would think he’d be in this kid’s presence without feeling shy and scared by his icy looks of condemnation and judgment, but here he is, smiling and laughing with Seraph who is sitting between him and Matt.

And…6 year-old Seraph was sporting a smile of his own. Isaac once again turns his head to the former. “Hey, can I call you Raph instead?”

Now, it was Seraph’s turn to be surprised. Isaac thought he stepped too far again and took advantage of his newfound friendship.

“Yes, you may call me Raph, a shortened version of my name.” The aforementioned kid just continues to shock and impress Isaac more and more. “Only if I can request to call you Zac.”

Isaac smiles at that nickname that Matt gives him, now being asked by Seraph. “Deal.”

(3 years later…)

Friendships are supposed to be forever. Especially when it is a treasured one, especially when two kids have become best friends over time. 9-year old Isaac always thought that he was going to have this friendship with Seraph and Matt. So…where did it go wrong? How did their friendship collapse in the blink of an eye?

He didn't know what happened that night—no, he did. He was aware of his brother’s swim team and his father, who is the coach of the aforementioned team, having a huge party in the backyard of their house. His older brother Camden was one of the star swimmers and the main clique leader of this team. It should have been a celebration filled with good times and happiness. It wasn’t.

He and Matt were supposed to exchange the latest Spiderman comic book, as the duo were very huge fanboys of the character and series. Seraph did adore Spiderman as well, but he was more of a Black Panther and Thor fan, yet Seraph always quoted a famous quote from Spiderman: “With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.”

It was just the two of them since Seraph left early because he gained a headache that made him groan from time to time and it made Isaac and Matt concerned for their best friend. The affluent child’s cousin, Coriolanus, came and picked him up. It is also ironic how Coriolanus was the best friend of his older brother, because they were the same age but while Camden was part of the swimming team, Coriolanus was in the basketball team since his height overshadowed everyone that Isaac sometimes thought Coriolanus was a giant.

The boy’s comic book exchange went downhill because Matt was nowhere to be found, until he heard screaming and yelling. He runs just in time to see his father, who was holding a soaked and gasping Matt by the edge of their pool, yelling at Seraph who is surprisingly back to their house. But the 9-year old noticed the tense posture, the snarl, and blazing look in Seraph’s eyes—an unusual sight. He never saw his best friend express, it was like looking at a clone who took over someone’s body with their only change being their personality. Isaac began shaking because of how furious his father was getting and the grinding of his teeth, afterall his father has gotten distant and apathetic with anger, going as far as taking it out on him and Camden lately. He didn’t want Seraph to endure that same treatment, yet his affluent best friend looked unafraid, challenging his father’s authority. He never heard Seraph scream and yell with so much anger that it puts the Incredible Hulk’s anger to shame.

His eyes widen as he witnesses his father push Seraph slightly in anger, saliva catching in his throat before his legs carry him over to the hostile scene to stop his father from going to hurt Seraph. The next action freezes him—the punch Seraph delivers in retaliation after his father lets go of Matt. The rough cry of his father, the thud of his body, and the clatter of his father’s glasses on the concrete floor intensified his shock. Watching his best friend strike his father in the face in front of everyone was like watching a movie in slow motion. The chaos that kept rising ended with Seraph’s fist, the silence echoing in the atmosphere as the once thriving party came to an abrupt end.

He watches his father recoil, a hand to his face where Seraph struck, contorted in shock. Coriolanus dashes past little Isaac before halting in front of his enraged little cousin and a wet, dripping, and paralyzed Matt. He could have sworn he saw Seraph’s eyes glow in dark violet hue, but when he blinked to do a double take, they were gone. Maybe it was the pool lights reflecting in his eyes, illuminating the azure color of the water that mirrored his eyes. Perhaps it was the lights around them brightening the atmosphere, giving a luminescent glow. The chaos returns with a vengeance as he sees Coriolanus argue with Camden, rage barely concealed on the surface, while Isaac’s father threatens to call the police for what Seraph had done.

Isaac stood there, aghast and paralyzed with his limbs unsteady and mouth parted open, hearing himself say “stop”, “stop”, “stop”, “please don’t, “don’t call them”. The daunting thought of the police taking Seraph away was horrifying despite how unrealistic it sounded because the police couldn’t arrest little kids. At the same time, he is unable to understand or figure out why his Seraph punched him so hard that blood is trickling down from both nostrils, the vermillion liquid coating the tanned skin of his father’s nose cascading down to his lips and to his hand. Just how hard did his best friend punch him?

He found himself walking towards Matt, who had gone silent, yet his clothes were drenched in water and chlorine, shivering like a leaf in autumn. Something must have happened that caused Matt to quiver and gasp like this because he never saw Matt so frightened, eyes filled with terror. He never saw Seraph aggressive, eyes filled with rage. These are two sights he never wants to see from them.

The ever increasing yells and screams went in and out of his ear, and now he felt himself shaking from the hostile atmosphere.

“Arresting my cousin because he punched you after you were the one who put your hands on him!? YOU STARTED IT!!!”

“You should have been the one to put him on a leash because he’s—!”

“Call my cousin a dog and I will do worse than whack you across the face.”

“YOU THREATEN ME!? YOU WANNA THREATEN ME!?”

“That’s not a threat! That’s a promise Mr. Lahey! And Camden you should have known better than to throw Matt in the pool when he can’t swim!”

Wait…what?

“What kind of man doesn’t know how to swim? He is a sissy!”

“NOT EVERYONE HAS THE KNOWLEDGE OR ABILITY TO SWIM YOU DERANGED LUNATIC—!”

“Stop calling Matt names, you degenerate jerk!” It was the rough and icy timbre of Seraph’s voice that degraded his father afterwards, and Isaac began shaking uncontrollably. He wants this to stop, he is trying to hold Matt close to him while failing to stay calm from the arguing. He doesn’t know what to do, or how to stop them from arguing. Other than drag the eerily quiet yet shuddering Matt away from the macabre of insults and aggressive tension.

“Matt,” Isaac wordlessly says, shaking his soaked arms slightly when he doesn't get a response, “Matt are you okay? What happened?” Isaac glanced at his friend who was still shocked and silent through his wheezing, as if he was having an asthma attack. His condition being a backdrop to the heated arguing of spiteful and hostile words and shouts, with Coriolanus and Camden on the verge of throwing blows.

"ENOUGH!!!" The command sliced through the chaotic air like a thunderclap, an authoritative crescendo that sent shockwaves through the backyard. Isaac, caught off guard, felt an involuntary flinch as the reverberations reached him. The source of the sound and tonality was immediately apparent, as his instinct guided his gaze to the epicenter.

There, amidst the turmoil, emerged the tall and imposing figure of Seraph's father in the doorway that separates the pool and kitchenette of Isaac’s house. His silhouette cut an imposing figure against the backdrop of the heated confrontation. The air seemed to still be around him, as if nature itself acknowledged the presence of a commanding force.

Seraph's father stood with a stoic and collected demeanor, a calm yet intense glare cutting through the tumult like a laser. His eyes bore the weight of authority, a simmering power beneath the surface. The lines etched on his face hinted at experiences weathered, a testament to the resilience that accompanied a father's steadfast resolve.

Isaac couldn't help but be captivated by the scene. The contrast between the authoritative figure and the chaos unfolding created a tableau of tension and consequence. The backyard, once a battleground of heated exchanges, now held an anticipatory hush, awaiting the next course in the unpredictable story unfolding before them.

The click and echo of dress shoes was heard on the concrete pavement, the man’s gaze unwavering. Isaac quickly steals a shaky glance at his 9 year old best friend and a now calmed down Coriolanus.

“Coryo, take Seraph to the car. I will handle this.” Was Seraph’s father’s only words before the taller male nods wordlessly and gently grabs the affluent elementary kid, then begins walking. He could hear his father’s angry shouts and hollers which was followed by Seraph’s father’s calm but firm replies, but Seraph wasn’t looking at him. Isaac kept calling his name, and even went in to grab him but his movements were stopped by Isaac’s furious father, a callous vice grip on his pale wrist that made him wince and knew it would leave bruises.

“You are to never play with that kid again, ya understand!?”

“But Dad—!”

“I said, do you understand!?” His father, appearing enraged and hostile with his nose and lips still coated in his own blood, while painfully squeezing Isaac’s little wrist, made the kid nod hesitantly. He didn’t want to stop talking to Seraph. That’s his best friend.

The rest of the night went on in a blur, as Seraph’s father left, followed by Matt’s parents arriving in a frenzy to pick him up and the party ended right there. But Isaac was only focused on Matt and Seraph. While Matt’s parents stated he was okay and had no physical related injuries, his friend never contacted him back at all. Matt also didn’t want to come back to the Lahey residence per what his parents have told him. Yet, the biggest radio silence he ever received was from Seraph. Since that night, he never received a phone call from the Kingfisher residence, or a visit to his house. It was as if his best friend had disappeared.

He waited…and waited…and waited…and waited until it had been 3 weeks and the nervousness began eating him alive. The menacing and eerie radio silence gnawed at him, his endless fidgeting eroding his uneasiness, Isaac didn't know what to do. Seraph did not contact him at all.

Then, he heard the news of Seraph's grandfather, who was murdered in cold blood in the reserve. The iciness that entered the child's veins was visible through his shaking form. The death of Augustus Kingfisher was an eerie and traumatic death, he couldn't bear to know how Seraph was currently feeling at this very moment in time, but he knows what it feels like to lose a relative he loves. He lost his mother. That led to 2 more weeks of radio silence, until one day, Isaac decided to take the initiative to call him. It's what childhood best friends do, right? To watch over each-other, right?

He got the courage to pull the house phone from the receiver and dialed the number to Seraph’s house. He was finally able to speak to Seraph. But, the call didn’t end well. The harsh and cold voice of his best friend made little Isaac wince and recoil in shock. Isaac tried to ask what is wrong and why is Raph acting like this.

“We cannot see each other anymore Isaac.” The delivery of Seraph’s words were vague but haunting. What did he mean by that? Why did Seraph sound so cold and detached?

Isaac was speechless, stuttering over his words.

“What do you mean we can’t see each other anymore? Why are you talking like that?”

“I am merely saying that we cannot have moments of camaraderie, or in layman terms, hang out anymore. We need to dissolve our friendship from the events that happened at the pool.” Seraph rephrases for the boy. A sudden shift of panic and despair grows inside of Isaac’s gut. Why is he breaking our friendship?

“Why…? Did I do something wrong? I don’t understand, why do we have to stop being friends? Whatever I did I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you or for my dad hurting you? Did he do something that made you punch my dad’s face?” His eyes were burning with saltwater, brimming at the edge begging to be released from his eyes.

"Raph...is it...is it because of what happened to your grandfather-"

“Goodbye Isaac.” Seraph concludes coldly, getting cut off before hearing the line of the telephone disconnecting, its alarm-like sound ringing in his ear. The first tear dropped to the floor, while Isaac’s form remained still. Needles prickled inside of his arm as his grasp on the phone stilled. The air felt heavy, a foreboding silence ringing in his ears all around him, except the daunting and cold echoing of Seraph’s words.

Seraph…don’t leave me alone…

(Present Day)

He remembers it like it was yesterday. The childhood memories he has, once filled with warmth and serene, are now overwhelmed by bitterness and icy callousness that springs tears to his eyes. Yet the painful but sweet memory stopped his dawning panic attack, but it brought upon hurt and emotional discomfort. He’s been in emotional turmoil throughout his life. His friend abandoned him when he needed him the most. When Seraph also needed him as well.

The loss of his mother, the death of his brother in Afghanistan, the abrupt change and cruelty of his father, and the destruction of his friendships, Matt Daehler and most importantly, Seraph. What hurts more is the pain and viciousness of his friend’s words, calling out his abuse and victimization that he hides behind a facade of nonchalance and introvert to be careless and detrimental to him rather than taking action to do something about it. As if he isn’t aware of the agonizing situation that he deals with at home everyday of his life. As if he isn’t aware of the bruises and cuts he receives from his father who shows absolutely no care in hitting him whenever he wants. As if he doesn’t experience pain, drama, and turmoil every month, every week, every day, every hour. Yet his friend did not take that into consideration, but brought it up abruptly and callously.

It doesn’t help that he has to return home to a toxic and unwelcoming environment that he calls home because he has nowhere else to go, or no other relative that lives in Beacon Hills. Plus, his father is all he has left, even if it feels like swallowing lead and venom while he is in his presence, even if his cold and brutal hands break his skin and hurts him before throwing him inside the freezer box, even his father’s words of gaslighting and verbal insults pierce through him like a blade of torture, he still gets back up and moves forward. The terror and fright behind it all hurts and traumatizes him, yet what is he able to do? Who would ever want to aid a weak teenager who cannot defend himself against his father? They may even say his father is right because he does wrong things that are disobedient to his father, despite his conscious telling him that what his father is wrong hundred percent of the time in his actions. Yet his friend revealed the hard cold truth to him that he wished wasn’t true, and is terrified to believe.

He just doesn’t want to be alone, and yet now…he feels truly alone…because Seraph’s words of the harsh, bitter truth came to light and stated it insensitively. Why Raph? Why did you leave me behind?

The sound of chatter in the hallways makes Isaac glance at the clock of the empty classroom and he realizes there’s only 15 minutes left of lunch, almost time for his next class. He wipes away his tears, wincing slightly when he rubs the bruise on his cheek. He can’t have anyone see him with his eyes all red and puffy. Maybe they wouldn’t care if they saw him like this. Just like how Seraph wouldn’t care.

Perhaps...he never knew Seraph as much as he thought he did.

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The school’s main office is usually a place of tension and anticipation for students who are in trouble, or a place of contentment and joy when they are told their parents are requesting them to come home for something important. In Seraph’s case, it was neither. He is a student with an A grade in all of his classes so the first option is out, and he loves school and to do classwork so the second option is out, Well what is it? He missed History class, and to top it off, it’s Free Period. Most students would be questioned as to why they are in the office for so long. But due to his academic GPA and standing, the office was his second study place. Not to mention his father donates to the school annually, cue the favoritism to his chagrin.

The remorse and regret of his cruel and indifferent words to Isaac’s current situation is sinking him into a pit of shame and disappointment. Not to mention he feels Isaac’s aura of melancholy and heartache across the school all thanks to him. But he knows better to approach the teenager right now to confront and apologize for his words knowing that will only make the circumstances worse.

Congratulations, Seraph. You stabbed a dagger through Zac’s soul and drained it all of what innocence he had left. Impressive and fantastic. Now you are left with the repercussions of what you’ve caused. Then you wonder exactly why your deceased grandfather stated you have a provocative mouth. The sarcastic and impervious thoughts of his conscience mocks him. A harsh scowl plasters his face, not in the mood to deal with his conscience or be reminded of the horrid trauma of his dead relative. The consistent clatter of typing on the keyboard behind the desk, along with the telephones ringing in the atmosphere and the chatter of students in the hallway outside was just minimal background noise.

Seraph was in his own conscience, reeling over his harsh encounter with Isaac, his…ex-friend he assumes now that he probably squashed any chances of reconciliation, and the premonition he received of a future; a future of him and the others alongside new faces in Beacon Hills, which he is unable to decipher because he is aware that those faces aren’t familiar. WAIT— the one who was wearing the Jersey that had the number 9 on it, is actually familiar. But where have I seen that face before?

A quiet hiss leaves his mouth from remembering the bewildering premonition, rubbing his two fingers on his temple. This is one huge drawback with his precognitive powers. This can occur in two separate ways: either through getting successive premonitions within a 24 hour period, or receiving a large premonition that reveals many adversaries and outcomes at once and can travel in said realm of precognition such as the one he had minutes ago. The result of taking in such a drastic premonition lands him with an irritable headache that will last for a few hours. He should have turned off his premonition this morning if he didn’t want to receive such future obstacles. Now he understands why his father shuts off his precognition when he is away in his locations such as Alaska or San Francisco, or during his political work in Beacon Hills Town Hall. Now he understands why his family remains a neutral party in all conflicts, such as the Hale Fire, Scott’s transformation, the Largest arrival, and the unknown identity of the Alpha.

Speaking of turning off the power…

Seraph closes his eyes and turns off his ability, inquiring about the possibility that the headache may disperse much sooner with his special ability now off. Yet that still does not help his current impasse. No aspirin or pain-relieving medication would prove efficacious in alleviating his headache, because it manifested itself through the use of supernatural energy. How hollow and pointless would it be if the school nurse were to examine his headache with technological test results only to come up with nothing. It would be unmistakable exposure and treacherous for him to go to the hospital to inspect his headache, since using the CT scan would show the humans his skull which would reflect the lighting and photo scans thanks to his blood and supernatural biology. (Yes he will continue to milk the supernatural biology card and he will not be unfettered by it.)

The clicking sounds of heels and his name being called forces Seraph to glance at the school’s secretary. “Good Afternoon, Mr. Kingfisher. Do you wish to call your mom so you can be sent home?”

Seraph simply nods, taking his cell phone out and dialing the number of his mother’s cellphone while the school secretary prepares the necessary documents to be sent home and excused for his classes today. It did earn him surprised and unusual glances since for the first time in his history of attending school, he is being sent home. He has not missed a day of school in his life, nor has he ever received a tardy for being late, nor has he been sent home for sickness or pain as the latter has never contracted diseases or pain. (Thanks to his immunity to diseases.)

For him to go home in the middle of the school day is quite shocking to the staff. Yet he doesn’t spare any of them a look, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he waits for the call to pick up on the phone. The ringing ends and a soft yet confused tone enters his ears. “Seraph, is everything okay?”

Already asking him and without even receiving information on what is wrong, Seraph’s expression is amused slightly, yet restrains himself from adding discomfort to his head. “No. I have a painful pounding in my skull and my current mood is not an exquisite one. I cannot concentrate on my work with an excruciating headache disrupting everything I try to do, and before you conclude anything,” his voice drops to a whisper, “it’s the special headaches I would get from my premonitions.” Unfortunately, being immune from every disease in the world does not mean he is immune to headaches. Normal headaches that a typical human or a werewolf would get, applies to his kind as well, but since normal medication like aspirin would be ineffective, he would have to use a concoction of vervain, clover, and mugwort, a surprisingly not-so-bad concoction, to quell normal headaches.

Whereas the special headaches that come from his premonition ability, those take more time to dissipate because it is the psychological impact and vignette vision behind the premonitions that cause a mental and soul distress between his brain and supernatural powers. The concoction won't work for this so he will have to drag it out. The special headaches last longer and it varies how much was envisioned within a day or the successive amounts of premonitions that occurred within an hour time limit.

He hears his mom clear her throat. “Now I see. Did you receive too many premonitions within the hour limit, or did you receive a large one that caused you to explore outside of where you are standing in your premonition?” His mom inquires, her voice steady yet comfortable. Unlike him, his sister, and his father, his mother does not have the premonition ability, since this unique power originated from his paternal grandfather, and was passed down to Azrael, which then was passed down to him and Celes.

“It was an extended premonition that manifested my headache.” He murmurs quietly, drinking a cup of water to at least soothe him. He heard a hum of acknowledgment on the line, followed by a short pause.

“Is there more to this story?” Elizabeth’s calm voice questions, and Seraph eyes the phone as if she could see his baffled reaction. “Your senses are definitely off if you are this silent from my reply, as you are aware I can sense your emotions and aura. Did something else happen?” She repeats, waiting on the line.

Releasing a sigh of discontent, Seraph knows there is no need to hide this. “Yes actually. I encountered Lahey and the two of us ended up having a brief but intense confrontation to the point that I unleashed unwanted vitriol against him without taking in consideration of his well being and trauma…and…I—” For the first time in his life, Seraph stammers, his usual prominence in composure, administration, and sprezzatura lost. He truly messed up big time, didn’t he? First that extensive and harrowing vision, and then his accidental and visceral mishap that tore Isaac apart emotionally.

His mother’s voice reels him back in, worry evident in her tonality. “Honey, breath. Take a deep breath and exhale.” He does as he is told, inhaling deeply before releasing the puff of air, his nerves returning back to normal. The headache only got worse, not enough to stumble him but enough to cause more irritation. “We’ll talk about it when we get home, darling. I am sending the email now to notify them that I am giving you permission and confirmation to be sent home.” He hears quick typing from the keyboard through the phone. “I will have Milene make you the medicinal concoction to help you.”

“Actually, I’d rather not talk about it. I would prefer to leave it behind as a forgotten memory and carry on.” Seraph secures the strap on his satchel, standing up.

“Are you sure? It is much better if you discuss this with me rather than letting it bottle up. I won’t force you to talk if you wish not to, but are you sure you would rather not discuss this?” Elizabeth asks. God bless his mother for her generosity and empathetic nature. Despite his cold and hypersaline personality, a small part of him is anxious if he is overbearing or irreverent to his family. Though he is aware they are used to his ways and apathy and find no trouble in it, sans Celes who is the victim of his torment of jabs and sibling dynamic.

“Yes, I am sure.” He huffs out, standing up to stretch, ignoring the annoying throb in his head. A soft hum came from the receiver, as an indirect form of response. Seraph walks to the desk, collecting the documents and paper after the secretary receives the email. He mouths a thank you before leaving, with the secretary replying to him to get better soon.

“Alright then. Grandma won’t be home until late tonight. She is on a trip to a Gala in Los Angeles with Arnold, and your father is currently at the Town Hall, courtesy of the recent murders to manifest a curfew law for the time being. Celes will be with Gwen and her other friend Patricia for much of the day. So It’ll be me and Milene in the early evening.” Elizabeth tells him. Seraph hums in approval.

“I understand. Thank you…mom.” Seraph tells her hesitantly, a tone he is NOT used to producing. Seriously, how out of function he is today? Elizabeth tells him goodbye and the line disconnects. He heaves a sigh and walks up to the desk to receive an early dismissal pass alongside a large manila envelope of letters for the last classes of today to be excused for tomorrow. He leaves and stomps down the white tiled floor to his locker.

Suddenly, while walking to his locker, a repugnant, gnarly and copper like scent fills his nostrils. He almost vomits at how intense it smelled. The concoction of rotten copper, dead skin, mutilated organs, and…wolfsbane— wait, what? That made Seraph stop in his path of direction. Wolfsbane…Derek Hale arrived in the school with such a disgusting and deathly scent yet he is alive. Scott doesn’t produce this scent either since the beta is healthy and smells like shower gel, oak and laundry detergent.

“You must really, really hate me.” He hears Jackson say poignantly. While you aren’t a malicious person, your arrogance and pride is what causes conflict with those around you, Whittemore. Seraph conveys internally.

“Not at all.” Allison rebukes, despite feeling her aura of uncertainty. Allison doesn’t hate him but she feels apprehensive about the Lacrosse captain no doubt to his previous antagonistic behavior. Especially towards Scott.

“You sure? Because you know, I’m not a bad guy—I mean I make stupid mistakes a lot but…I’m not bad.” He asserts, giving Allison his best ‘sincere’ tone. Please don’t tell me they are by my locker. Seraph prays to no one in particular.

“I like you…I mean—I like you and Scott together, and I would like to get you know you guys better.” Jackson says to the Argent heiress through Seraph’s hearing, and the latter does a double take at what the jock fumbles over his words. Why does Jackson sound so desperate and…unsure of himself? His heartbeat regarding his words states an ulterior motive…what are you planning to do, Whittemore?

The closer Seraph gets to his locker, the stronger and more detestable it grew. His lungs couldn’t bear with the scent, but he kept his poise and continued through this unfathomable torment. Once he was in view of his locker, there he saw two individuals, and while not only did one of them produced the loathesome scent, but the other one was just sitting uncomfortably beside the former. Seraph is baffled that Jackson reeks of a rotting corpse combined with the potent flower. His skin, deathly pale and unnatural, alongside his sunken eyes appears to make him look dead. Until it hit Seraph’s mind.

Derek’s claws were infected with wolfsbane poisoning from the bullet, therefore when he dug into Jackson’s nape, the poisoned blood and fluid transferred into Jackson’s blood, infecting him as well. Seraph relays in his head after coming to the conclusion of Jackson’s repulsive scent. While Derek only and unintentionally transmit part of the potency into Jackson’s body, it is still enough to cause organ failure and serious health damage into the body. It can, if not treated, kill him. Seraph may have to concoct Wolfsbane Amenia, or the healing Wolfsbane with Clover, and convert them into capsules for Jackson to consume, even though that could raise suspicions within Jackson of how Seraph knows about what happened. Plus he would need Jackson's consent regarding to giving him capsules, something that will hurt the teen's huge ego and earn a harsh reject from him.

He shook his head, the abhorrent smell threatening to make him reel. He turned his attention to the second individual who is anxious and uncomfortable beside Jackson who’s invading her privacy per say. Allison Argent. They were just a locker beside his on the top of them. Seraph’s shoes echo the floor, catching the attention of both teenagers, who have different reactions to seeing him.

Jackson’s expression sours at the sight of him, due to earlier interactions and the last time Seraph insulted him in the parking lot, which the enigmatic teenager couldn’t care less about. But Allison’s expression is intrigued but reticent. Her eyes study the body language, facial expressions and movements of him. He never uttered a single word to the girl since her arrival, nor acknowledged her presence. But judging by how Allison is studying him, there is no doubt that Lydia must have mentioned him to her in their interactions since those two are best friends. Then again, Lydia is also the type to not tell Allison about a being like him.

“Pardon my intrusion, but my locker is beside you on top, Ms. Argent.” Seraph politely declares. Allison’s expression snaps to realization.

“Oh, sorry, just…let me move a little bit over.” Allison replies, but he notices the heavy hesitation laced in her voice due to a certain ill-looking jock being a little too close to her in such a disturbing fashion. But at Seraph’s cutthroat expression, Jackson does move a little further, though to Allison moving slightly than to Seraph’s icy veil.

“Thank you.” The enigmatic mutters before approaching the locker, and inputting the combination of the lock to open his locker. The throbbing surged up slightly, and that had Seraph just stop momentarily, touching his temple to rub it even though such actions will not deter the effect of the headache. Damn, he thought, while opening his locker fully to put only the necessary study materials away in exchange for the one he needs later for homework.

“Are you okay?” Seraph freezes, not sure to be surprised to be asked such a question, or Allison’s boldness to ask. But he keeps a straight face and slightly turns to her hesitant but inquisitive gaze, ignoring the jock beside her.

“Phyiscally yes. I am going home early due to a repulsive and pounding headache that is prevailing my concentration and school input. But nothing to fret about, I am fine. Just lethargic.” He responds to her cordially. To be very honest, there isn’t much to talk here, since these two do not know each other. Allison didn’t have to actually speak anything to him, and he didn’t have to respond. But it did alter the course of their interactions. He did however, heard a weak but masculine chuckle.

“Wow, that’s a first. Can’t handle a little headache, Kingfisher? That’s the first time since you attended school to ever go home early. Are we less than intelligent beings make you unable to handle our rambunctious rowdyness?” Jackson asks dubiously, earning a glower from Allison who just heard him apologize for being mean to Scott even though his delivery of it sounded less sincere and more desperate mixed with eerieness.

Seraph, through his irritating headache and in spite of the disgusting odor of death his classmate is producing, smirks and faces Jackson fully. “Ah yes, it appears even the most robust among us occasionally succumb to the whims of a mere headache. I shall take care of myself in a prominent manner, although I must admit, the pallor of your skin and the sunken shadows beneath your eyes do give cause for concern.” It took everything in the icy teenager to not make a provocative comment about his repugnant scent that is coming from him. Jackson’s eyes widen at the mention of his abnormal physical condition that he silences himself from saying anymore lest he hear Seraph say something diminshing.

Allison remains engrossed but indecisive to utter a word to Seraph, who just returned to facing his locker and pulling out a textbook. Now that she thought about it, she remembered Seraph didn’t show up in history class at all. She only remembers that she shares History, Economics, and French classes with him. There is no reason for her to strike a conversation with him, she told herself, but the thought of at least getting to know an independent and quiet individual like Seraph whom Lydia mentioned to her on the first day with a ton of information about him does make her curious to know him.

She takes the risk and clears her throat. “You’re Seraph Kingfisher, right?” Surprisingly, the cliché question doesn’t increase his already irritating headache. He spares a glance at Allison who is still sitting beside the locker beneath his own.

The fact that she is questioning his identity raises two possibilities: either Lydia mentioned him to her and revealed alot of information concerning him, or she must have heard the tale of him roasting an entire grade of seniors in his freshman year. He is willing to bet the former, since that tale, while still spoken, is seen as an urban legend that is to not be spoken of unless the individual is willing to risk their ego and pride. But the fact that Lydia holds him in such esteem is sacrilegious but intriguing. He doesn’t know whether to thank her or tell her to stop telling her friends about him.

“Yes, in the flesh.” Allison nodded, deeply uncomfortable by how the pale and ill looking lacrosse captain, “Jackass” Whittemore is peering at her with macabre intent. The putrefaction of the blonde’s blood, coupled with aconite poisoning, threatened to induce the noxious concoction churned within him, instigating an unsettling urge to retch. Seraph sighs through his nose to prevent that urge and glances back at her. “Might I request your assistance in something?”

That caused Allison to look up at him, while Jackson glares at the bespectacled teen. The enigmatic considers the latter irrelevant as he focuses on the girl. “Can you hand this to Coach Finstock for Econ? I remember we both have the same class period after this.” The affluent teenager did not expect to meet the heiress of the Argents in this kind of mundane manner. If it entails distancing herself from Jackson’s disconcerting presence and the disagreeable odor of mortality that pervades his vicinit, then it is an acceptable course of action. Besides, Econ is the only class that he would rather not have the Coach reprimand him for missing class, whereas the others he can discreetly get away with thanks to his academics.

With newfound eagerness likely as a result of escaping from Jackson, Allison nodded without hesitation and packed away her things and took the excuse letter from Seraph and safely place it in her bag. “I can do that. Although I just hope that you’re okay with everything.” Allison comments, genuine and serene in her words and expression. At least it didn’t end awkward.

Seraph nods and replies, “I am fine. Thank you.” He shuts his locker while Allison, sends him a small and cordial smile before leaving the scenery with the letter. Unlike Jackson’s current scent, Allison smells of vanilla, lavender, and oak, with a simple yet delicate touch of Coco Chanel perfume. Seraph clicks the locker of his combination before he finds Jackson, who is getting up, wobble slightly.

“Whether or not you want to hear this is not my concern, but you are severely unwell. Your appearance is as pale as a ghost. You can barely stand with your current fractured stature. I suggest you go to a doctor and receive immediate medical treatment.” Seraph conjures, earning a sardonic expression from the jock.

“Gee, thank you for the diagnosis of my condition, doc. What do you want, a medal? Why would I take a suggestion from your stuck-up ass?” Jackson’s snark only made Seraph smirk. Even in sickness is Whittemore still an arrogant and egotistical jerk.

"Well, Whittemore, if arrogance and egotism were Olympic events, you'd have enough gold medals to start your own mint. But alas, we're stuck with your diagnosis instead. Consider it a consolation prize for your remarkable lack of self-awareness." Seraph turns around not sparing Jackson a glance, who is giving the bespectacled teen a sour expression. He never had an issue with Seraph until now, but the delivery of his words and hypersaline persona pisses him off. But he knows trying to argue with Seraph is like arguing with a brick wall. He’d lose easily to Seraph’s words and cunning perception.

Seraph stomps down the empty hallway, hearing that clock on the wall echo as it’s 10 seconds before the bell rings. He makes it to the exit and walks down the stairs, with a few classmates out in the parking lot hanging out or doing something uninteresting. The bell inside the school blares loudly at the signal of the end of the period. Seraph enters his car and turns the engine on. He didn’t expect Allison to take the letter and give it to Coach Finstock out of kindness and a means to leave Jackson, but it did work in his favor, He reverses back from the parking lot in a 90 degree angle, and drives off on the open road leaving the school.

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Nobody, least of all Scott himself, could have anticipated the tumultuous turn his life took when he was unwillingly bitten and transformed against his will from an average human teenager to a supernatural, werewolf teenager thanks to a selfish and unstable alpha he still doesn’t know about.. His struggle to understand the politics of werewolves and hunters, and navigate his way through the intricate discord of violence against him and the trauma inflicted by a power-hungry alpha only compounded his anguish. Scott is not only grappling with external threats but also with the internal turmoil of his own identity and the weight of his traumatic experiences caused by factors outside of his control.

This so-called “gift” that Derek persistently boasts about, is more of a dark curse that makes his life worse than it did before. Yes, his senses have heightened to an extraordinary degree—he can run faster without the risk of his asthma harming him, he can hear the faintest pin drop from miles away, discerning emotions through scent alone. Even in the darkest of nights, his vision pierces through the shadows like no sight before. However, these enhanced abilities only exacerbate the new aggression consuming him. Worse still is the looming threat of losing his humanity when the full moon casts its illuminating glow, pitting his humanity against his inner werewolf.

Regardless of his phenomenal abilities, he must keep them hidden from his mother, Allison, and his peers at school. Nevertheless, all efforts are almost starting to prove futile when Derek impulsively accuses his boss and mentor, Alan Deaton, of being the rogue alpha who turned him. This accusation defies all logic. Throughout Derek's acquaintance with Deaton, the veterinarian has been nothing but a paragon of kindness, compassion, and intelligence, drawing from years of experience in veterinary practice. Deaton has imparted invaluable skills to Scott, skills that would typically be acquired in college practice with medicine and veterinarian services. How Derek arrives at the conclusion that Deaton is the alpha is madness and pure hubris. Nothing about this assumption or situation adds up.

Scott walks alongside Stiles in the empty and dark hallways of their school after getting inside, en route to the office, distressed and confused on his agenda, which was to call the alpha (assumed to be Deaton by Derek’s blind assumption). Puzzled, uncertain, and apprehensive about this, he stares before turning to Stiles with a look of dread and worry. The latter is looking back and forth like he is under anxiety. Okay maybe staring at Stiles’s pacing isn’t helping him either. He glances back down to the hallway in front of him.

"Scott, honestly do you think you can find anyone other than Derek to help you with the alpha?" Stiles's question makes Scott pause and look to his left and into his brown eyes with perplexity.

"Like who? I don't know who is a werewolf in our school. In fact I don't even think there are any werewolves in our school." Scott counters anxiously, more focused on trying to save Deaton from Derek, or prove Derek wrong for him accusing his boss, who is a kind, wise and compassionate figure, is the vicious and malicious alpha. Scott's mind is rattled with anxiety and stress, coupled with the turmoil of his werewolf status as well as his emotions, and the psychological trauma of having to be thrusted into this supernatural world with no guidance.

Having to hide this from those he loves and cares for, especially Allison and his mom, is the major factor of his stress and edge. How is he supposed to continue to live like this for the rest of his life? How is he going to go down this dreadful path as he grapples with his humanity?

"Like I don't know. Who else could be a candidate for a beta in our school?" Stiles inquires more, flailing his arms. When Scott shakes his head confusedly, he prompts Stiles to answer. "Someone from the lacrosse team? Our classmates? Because if they are three werewolves now, then maybe there is someone else?"

"No one in our team smells like a werewolf, Stiles. If that were the case then they either would have gotten involved, or they wouldn't." Scott replies. There's obviously not anyone else in their school who is a werewolf, otherwise Scott would make the decision to seek their aid depending on how they would perceive him. If they were antagonistic then the chances of help would be futile. He has to understand how to survive as a werewolf and balance out his life peacefully.

"Well—what about Seraph? After that odd looking pained expression on his face earlier I doubt normal poeple make that much of a painful face. Looks werewolfish to me.”

Scott fixed him with a baffled look, stopping in the middle of the corridor within the vicinity of the main office. He is unable to tell whether Stiles is trying to say he is accusing Seraph of being a werewolf or if that’s Stiles dislike of the academically advanced classmate. Not when his werewolf senses were all over the place. He looks back at the microphone, staring at the piece. "Seraph doesn't smell like a werewolf. He has a cinnamon, rosemary and wool like scent. Plus he's human, I felt his pain when my hand touched his earlier." Scott noticed something different with Seraph. While the pain he felt from touching him was...strange, like there was something there that shouldn't be there. But he couldn't pinpoint it due to the rush of the moment and he is currently in a serious situation between controlling his emotions, his shift, and trying to save those he cares for right now.

“M-Maybe he could be a beta like you and Derek.” Stiles counters while stumbling in his own words.

“He’s not a werewolf. Now isn’t the time to make accusations, not when my boss’s life is at risk or under the suspicion he is the Alpha, which I doubt.” Scott whispers with dread at the hyperactive teenager, prompting them to continue their path. Stiles just huffs, following the Latino male to the door nearby. They shine their flashlights on the windows leading to the room, before Scott twists the knob on the door.

“Okay one question,” The Sheriff’s son starts off, while going inside first, “what are you gonna do if the alpha doesn’t show up?”

Scott takes a moment to answer, frowning. “I don’t know.”

“And what are you gonna do if he does show up?” Stiles pesters once more.

“I don’t know.” The werewolf shakes his head before glancing away.

“Good plan.” The former quips, shrugging his shoulders as if they aren’t already in deep shit.

Sometimes Stiles can’t be as supportive as he should be. Then again, neither of them are in a good place right now, not when Scott has to signal the alpha to attract it’s attention and proof Derek’s accusation on if Deaton is the one who bit him. All of this is stressing him out and increasing his pent-up anxiety. “Alright, you said that a werewolf howls to signal it’s position to the rest of the pack, right?”

“Right, but if you bring it here, does that make you part of it’s pack?” Stiles asked. Scott swallows with trepidation at the thought of luring the giant creature to his location.

“I hope not.”

“Yeah me too.” Stiles quietly repeats, taking out the microphone for his friend. “Alright, all you.”

Scott gazes down at the microphone, uncertainty clouding his thoughts and unsettling his every move. With a hesitant breath, he clears his throat, drawing in a deep inhalation through his nose, as if seeking solace in the air itself before opening his mouth.

A strangled, horrid howl, reminiscent of a cat being suffocated to death, escapes from his throat, echoing grotesquely throughout the school's antiquated PA system. The sound, a dissonant cacophony of distress and embarrassment, hangs heavily in the air, eliciting second-hand discomfort from anyone within earshot. That person being Stiles, and outside in the parking lot, Derek. Something tells Scott that whatever he unleashed wasn’t a howl.

“Was that okay? I mean that was a howl, right?” Scott solicits, seeking Stiles’s response. The latter wanted to die of embarrassment and crawl to a hole from whatever that was.

“Y-Yeah, technically.” The Sheriff’s son sheepishly says, unsure of how to respond. Scott wasn’t convinced by that judging by his best friend's not-so-honest reply.

“Well what did it sound like to you?”

“Like a cat being choked to death, Scott.” Stiles supplies more truthfully.

A rush of breath fills Scott’s lungs as he starts to panic over his mistake, unable to hide the stress and frustration in the situation. How the fuck is he supposed to do this!? “What do I do, how am I supposed to do this!?” Sensing his discomfort, Stiles scrambles to his feet to come beside Scott in reassurance.

“Okay, hey—listen to me, you’re calling the alpha, alright? Be a man. Be a werewolf, not a Teen Wolf. Be a werewolf.” Stiles advises him, patting his shoulder soothingly, before giving Scott his space. Scott gives him a light nod, taking a few moments to collect himself, before remembering Stiles’s advice. A transformation sweeps across Scott's countenance, replacing any hint of levity with a grave and disciplined demeanor. A surge of raw energy courses through his veins, infusing him with an unwavering resolve. His grip tightens around the microphone, knuckles white with determination, as his pupils flare with a piercing golden hue. Within the depths of his being, a primal rumble begins to stir, building momentum like an approaching storm, resonating from the depths of his chest and climbing upward, ready to unleash its potent force upon the unsuspecting audience.

In an instant, the feeble, strained sound that had emanated through the PA system minutes earlier is replaced by a mighty, earth-shattering howl that grips the very essence of the atmosphere and the school itself. The reverberations of the howl ripple through the air, causing door knobs to tremble, combination locks to rattle, and chalks on the chalkboard to quiver in response. Even the floor beneath their feet seems to pulsate with the sheer force of the sound. Its intensity is overwhelming, leaving those who hear it paralyzed with a mixture of shock and amazement. Deafening in its magnitude and eerie in its resonance, the howl captivates all who are within its reach, imprinting itself upon their senses with an undeniable power. Unfortunately…the howl was enough to signify the alpha, who now knew of Scott’s location.

As the reverberations of his howl slowly dissipate into the air, Scott stands there, a mixture of shock and amazement coursing through his veins. He can hardly believe that he, a mere high school student, was able to produce such a powerful and commanding sound. The residual energy from the howl still thrums within him, driving through his veins like a relentless force, leaving him both exhilarated and slightly unnerved. His heart races with the realization that he has just signaled his location to the alpha, a fact that fills him with a creeping sense of apprehension. In spite of this, there's a flicker of pride in his chest, knowing that he has tapped into a strength he never knew he possessed.

In addition, Stiles watches his best friend with a mixture of awe and admiration, his own shock mirroring Scott's. He can hardly believe what he's just witnessed, marveling at the raw power and intensity of Scott's howl. There's a sense of pride swelling within him, knowing that his friend possesses such incredible abilities. While he shares Scott's slight nervousness about attracting the alpha's attention, Stiles is more focused on the sheer magnitude of what Scott has just accomplished. In his eyes, Scott's howl is nothing short of extraordinary, a testament to his unwavering determination and resilience.

Despite the newfound prowess of his abilities, the dread deep down coils within his internal organs and spirit regarding how his future would be like as…this, as a werewolf. Grappling with emotions, protecting others from harm, being hunted, and having to hone his skills other than being a prodigal athletic teenager overnight but for survival is what courses around his mind like an endless Grand Pix race. The dicohotomy of being human and being a werewolf is a battle he must face.

But, if Allison is the anchor to his wolf, as Stiles mentioned earlier, if she is the reason he isn’t weak, but keeps his humanity, then that explains why he loves her. It explains why his anger that comes from the base of his inner wolf is tamed. Her voice, her presence, her aura helps him remain stable. His compassionate side, his willpower, his kindness and integrity also keeps him human too. Which then tells him that Derek’s advice to stay away from Allison isn’t because it makes him weak, but maybe because she helps him be human. As for the full moon…no he’s not going to think about that right now. There are other times for him to think about this.

Right now, Deaton is the one who needs help, assuming that he isn’t the alpha that Derek accuses him to be.

“I’m gonna kill both of you!” Derek declares with irritation, as Scott and Stiles venture back down to the parking lot from Scott’s moment of surprise. They both looked confused and surprised at Derek’s reaction. “What the hell was that!? Are you trying to attract the whole state to the school?”

“Sorry I didn’t know it’d be that loud.” Scott replies sheepishly, sighing. Stiles on the other hand was far from embarrassed.

“Oh it was loud…and it was awesome~!” Stiles singsongs at the end, both teenagers clearly excited by this. Scott’s cheerfulness was short-lived as he noticed something was off. Derek’s car door was open.

Derek was undeterred and displeased. Neither him or Stiles noticed the Latino teenager’s distress. “Shut up.”

“Don’t be such a ‘sourwolf’-” Stiles taunts but is interrupted by Scott who grabs his arm while focusing on the black Camaro because Deaton was no longer unconsicous inside the vehicle.

"What'd you do with him?" Scott questions, his unease palpable as he scans the surroundings for any sign of Deaton's whereabouts.

"What?" Derek's gaze darts to his vehicle, a flicker of dread crossing his features as he realizes Scott's boss is missing from where he should be. Something doesn't sit right. "I didn't do anything." His denial is swift, but the tension in his stance and the furrow in his brow betray his own sense of disquiet.

The tension in the air is shattered by a brutal and merciless attack as something sharp violently impales Derek from behind. Agonizing pain explodes throughout his body, rendering him powerless as he coughs up blood, the metallic taste flooding his senses. Every nerve screams in torment as he is hoisted into the air, his vision swimming with crimson haze as blood continues to gush from his mouth.

Scott and Stiles watch in horror, their hearts pounding in their chests as they witness the sudden and savage assault on the older werewolf. Shock freezes them in place, their minds struggling to process the gruesome scene unfolding before their eyes. Fear grips them tightly, its icy fingers clawing at their hearts as they realize the danger they're facing.

For Derek, each moment is a living nightmare, his senses overwhelmed by excruciating agony and the overwhelming scent of blood. He feels his strength draining away, his limbs growing numb as darkness threatens to consume him. Desperation surges within him, but it's futile against the relentless assault of pain and terror, and his vision begins to cloud, approaching an all too knowing darkness.

At the Alpha’s growl, Scott and Stiles bolt the other way, sprinting to the high school after witnessing Derek being lifted. They run towards the double doors of the facility while Derek is thrown to a brick wall, his form seemingly lifeless with blood leaving his mouth.

Scott and Stiles burst through the doors, slamming them shut behind them with trembling hands. Their hearts pound furiously against their ribcages, the thunderous rhythm echoing in their ears like a relentless drumbeat of fear. Horror grips their minds like icy tendrils, their thoughts consumed by the raw brutality they've just witnessed and the terror of the demonic creature lurking outside that just committed murder.

Their bodies quiver with adrenaline, every nerve on edge as they grapple with the harrowing reality of what they've just experienced. The air feels thick with apprehension, suffocating them as they struggle to catch their breath amidst the chaos. Images of violence and bloodshed flash behind their eyelids, refusing to fade as they desperately cling to a semblance of composure.

But beneath the facade of outward strength lies a profound sense of vulnerability, a gnawing fear that threatens to engulf them whole. They huddle together, seeking solace in each other's presence, yet unable to shake the haunting memory of the creature's savage attack. Trauma seeps into their souls like poison, leaving them shaken and scarred in its wake.

Scott never deserved to be thrust into this turmoil, one where he hangs between life and death, and that also grasps the lives of others and his loved ones. The night couldn't get any worst.

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So, who was expecting Seraph's interaction with Allison? How would this friendship journey on from here? What did you guys think of the past between Seraph, Isaac, and Matt, and Scott's POV in this story regarding his emotions, thoughts and trauma?

Chapter 6 will be released on the third week of May. Also does anyone know how to make a creative divider for chapters? I am not that talented when it comes to designs like that.

If you'd like to read more or earlier chapters of this series, access it here: https://www.tumblr.com/kingofangst/737729405418389504/teen-wolf-au-series-the-wings-of-an-enigmatic?source=share

The Wings Of An Enigmatic

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf canon au #the wings of an enigmatic series #teen wolf au #seraph kingfisher #my oc #scott mccall #allison argent #stiles stilinski #isaac lahey #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #derek hale #alan deaton #matt daehler #twoae

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darkphoenix180 · 2 months

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Teen Wolf character poll. Final round

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snowdropluck204 · 1 year

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Beware the Spirits of the Vengeful ~ pt 5

3rd Person pov:

A gasp was heard in the previously dead silent train depot, Derek’s head shot over to the previously passed out girl, Arae. (y/n) looked around at her surroundings, obviously confused by where she was and why she was unable to recall what had happened previously.

Derek was sitting across from the teen, having been watching over her whilst she was unconscious, (y/n) looked around the damp, dark area, shooting a questioning look to the Alpha werewolf sitting close by. “Where are the others?” She asked, referencing to the teen Betas the man had chosen to turn. Derek nodded towards the exit, “School,” He responded, reminding the girl that she had to be there also.

Sitting upright in bed as quick as she could, she tried leaving the cot Derek had tucked her into, suddenly realising she was wearing nothing but a large Henley shirt. Looking down at her body, she gave another confused gaze at Derek, who looked away, almost bashfully. “When you passed out, you weren’t… wearing anything,” He muttered, “I had to give you something.” She nodded and sat back in the cot, covering her lower half.

“To ease your nerves, I called in as your guardian, used some charm to get you the day off from school.” He told her, his normal stoicism returning. For some reason, the young Arae felt something burning in the pit of her stomach, hearing that he had ‘charmed’ some random girl. “I asked Isaac and Erica to take notes for you, in classes you share.” He finished. (y/n) nodded, both in acknowledgement and gratitude.

There was silence for a moment, allowing (y/n) to get a grasp on her surroundings and emotions, which were equally as blurry after leaving her Spirit Form. “So…” Derek began, stealing the teen’s attention once more. “How did this…” He gestured at her body, “Happen?” (y/n) looked sort of offended, leaving the man to quickly rephrase his question, “I meant the supernatural thing!” (y/n) looked down, clearing her dry throat before beginning. “I guess it’s sort of a long story.”

Flashback ~

(y/n) pov:

I smacked softly at the door of the mausoleum, I must have been doing so for hours by now, my hands were bloody and bruised from how long I had been pounding and scratching at the door. There was nothing more I could do. I turned and began looking around, my eyes having adjusted to the dark long ago. I no longer had any hope that dad would come back for me. “What did I do?” I whimpered, thinking about my family, “Why did they leave me?”

“Not everyone can live forever my darling,” I heard a soft voice from behind me, whipping my head around with a small squeak. I couldn’t see anything or anyone, I could only hear them, they seemed to be humming. A simple tune that I recognised as something my mother had sang to me, every night. “Mama?” I called timidly.

The voice gave an amused chuckle, “Hello (n/n),” She told me, I gasped and ran to where I heard the voice, tears streaming even more quickly down my face, looking desperately for my mother. “You won’t be able to see me, dear one, not yet anyway.” She whispered. I whined slightly, but the lullaby she was humming had hastened the exhaustion that was overcoming me.

I sat against the wall of the building, listening intently to the lullaby, “I’ll see you soon, my darling girl.” Mother whispered, sending me off to a peaceful slumber.

“I don’t remember much of what happened before I died, I remember the hunger, the thirst, the aching I felt because of them. Before I passed to the other side, I remember my mother warning me, telling me not to hold onto the past, I guess I didn’t listen. Right before I left, I thought of my parents, I felt anger. Towards my father for my murder and my mother for leaving me and letting him do it, even though she seemingly had no choice. Before I knew it, I was a monster.”

When I opened my eyes, the heat surrounding me seemed to have had no effect on my body and yet it was blistering. The body that used to be aching, in hunger, dehydration and emotional turmoil, now felt nothing. I looked around at the new environment, there was fire everywhere, weeping apparitions of all ages were the only life (or dead) I could see. The place I was now in was inherently terrifying, but I didn’t feel afraid, I felt like I belonged here.

“I was there for who knows how long, I seemed to grow as I should have been growing while I was alive, getting stronger with each year that passed. I had another Arae to watch over me, her name was Yarrow, she was sort of my boss, she told me what to do and when. But I knew I would never be happy knowing that I was securing everyone else’s revenge, but still feeling completely unsatisfied with my father’s livelihood.

“I knew I needed to finish what he had started, so I made a deal with Yarrow. Something you should know Derek, making a deal, with a spirit of the dead, is incredibly dangerous business, even if she was my own kind. We agreed that, as long as she had my allegiance, I would be allowed to return to the living and destroy my father.”

“You wished for conference with me (y/n).” The older Arae in front of me stood tall and proud, her wings were a brilliant crimson, seemingly made of flames, her eyes were the incredible cerulean of our species’ magic, contrasting against the red of her feathers and our home. I nodded to her, “Yes, my mistress, I have felt that I’m not doing my best, knowing that he is still up there.” I informed her, pointing towards the ceiling and the land of the living with my sharp talons.

Yarrow smiled warmly at me, “I’ve watched over you for the last ten solstices, I watched you grow into a wonderful Arae, I’ve noticed your internal struggle, knowing how much you blamed yourself and others hurt me, but I know you’ll do what you need to.” She explained. I looked up at her, hanging off of her every word, “Do you mean-?”

She nodded encouragingly, “Indeed, I shall allow you to return to the living, until you have no unfinished business via yourself or other mortals.” She ordered, the feeling of the command hitting me like a hurricane, literally. When a senior Arae commanded an underling, you could feel the weight of the words envelope you. All of a sudden I was back in the mausoleum, my glowing blue eyes casting a dim hue over my young corpse in the corner.

I pondered over Yarrow’s words, “Until you have no unfinished business via yourself or other mortals.” There was always unfinished business for mortals, they were constantly quick to want revenge, even when they cannot accept the consequences. Revenge may be a dish best served cold but no dishes are free.

Flashback over~

Derek looked at me shocked, I wonder what he was thinking, why my father did what he did, whether or not my story was true, who knows? “You should know this Derek,” I began, watching his deep green eyes stare into my own as they began glowing once more, “We’ve been connected in mind and soul because of Kate Argent.”

His eyes darkened, his face becoming once more, sullen. “I am aware of your anger towards her, I know what she did and I am sorry for your loss. I know you feel blame because of what she did, but who she was, wasn’t your fault.” I told him, transforming into my spirit form before leaning down to gently kiss his cheek.

I then abruptly left, I had someone I had to meet.

Timeskip~

??? pov:

“Boys! Slow down!” I called to my sons, barely seeing their chestnut brown hair before they disappeared in the crowded cafe. I huffed, out of breath after running after my six year old twins. I looked for my boys, seeing them looking up in awe at a teenage girl with (s/t) skin, (h/l) (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. I couldn’t help but gape along with them, she was beautiful, she exuded an aura of confidence, but her smile was sweet.

“Hi,” She greeted with a fond smile, “Do these belong to you?” She chuckled. I shook myself out of my revere, nodding at the girl who still had that lovely smile. The smile quickly slipped from her face as she looked at my I.D badge from the hospital. “Francesca (l/n)?” She asked, I looked down at my chest and back at her, nodding with a grin. “You wouldn’t happen to know a (f/n) (l/n)?” She asked again.

“You know my husband?” I asked, she looked briefly shocked before responding. She nodded in confirmation and replied, “I’m being so rude, allow me to introduce myself, my name is (y/n) (l/n), I’m (f/n)’s daughter.” That caused me to look as shocked as she had. (f/n) had a daughter? Why wouldn’t he tell me that? “I know you must be so confused, I’ll buy you a coffee, we could maybe sit and talk? I could buy a couple of cupcakes for these two cupcakes,” She giggled, pinching the boys’ cheeks.

I nodded, still frozen in shock. I went to find a table, but the boys wanted to stay with their new big sister, I could hear them vaguely as they walked over to the counter.

“I’m Lucas! This is Ozzy, are you going to come live with us?” Lucas asked, excited as always, (y/n) chuckled and shook her head, Ozzy then almost shouted, “You’re really pretty!” (y/n) laughed loudly, ruffling his hair and leading them over to buy drinks and food.

They were only six, they probably didn’t realise the magnitude of the situation. How could (f/n) hide this from me? He was my husband, he never told me he had another daughter, or even another relationship. (y/n) soon cleared this up, “Francesca, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” I interrupted quickly.

“Franny, please.” I told her with a weak smile, not quite getting over my shock. She nodded, after two cappuccinos and a lot more cupcakes, I knew the full story. (f/n) had been married before marrying me, her name was (m/n), she passed away when (y/n) was only four. Apparently, after her mother’s untimely passing, she went to live with her mother’s family, her father having lost custody.

After we got through the rather awkward conversation, we actually got along quite well, she was the daughter I always wanted, my first (and hopefully only) secret step-daughter.

Timeskip~

Walking into the house, the boys beginning to run down from their sugar high, compliments of their new sister, I walked up to (f/n)’s office with purpose. As much as I wasn’t upset that he had been in a previous marriage and had a daughter with her, I was furious that he hadn’t told me! Knocking on the door, his voice from the other side allowed my entrance.

He could see the anger on my face, setting down whatever he was working on to give me his full attention. “So, I ran into someone interesting today,” I began, my voice strained, “She told me her name was (y/n).” I hadn’t fully believed the story until I saw my husband’s reaction. His eyes widened massively at her name, standing from his chair with reckless abandon.

(f/n) pov:

Franny continued to tell me that she had ran into a girl, claiming to be my daughter, I was terrified that she knew, she had been told what I had done. (y/n), or the person posing as her, had told her that after (m/n) died, (her name still leaving a bad taste in my mouth) she had moved in with her mother’s family. As far as I knew, (m/n) didn’t have any family, so I already knew this person was not my daughter.

I wasn’t listening to Franny anymore, responding with a nod every once in a while, her anger seemed to have depleted, replaced with joy at having a wonderful daughter. I was seething, someone knew what I had done, they were taunting me, acting as my daughter. The one I had killed. Or had I?

3rd Person pov

Erica pushed Stiles harshly into the darkened pool area, Derek’s sour wolf face greeting him as he bounced a basketball back and forth ominously. “Stiles, what did you see at the mechanic’s garage?” He asked, looking expectantly. Stiles responded with the only thing he knew, sarcasm.

“Several alarming EPA violations that I’m seriously considering reporting.” He told him, all with a straight face. The look on his face told the teen that wasn’t what he was looking for, looking Stiles in the eye as he punctured the basketball with his claws, deflating it and watching as it crumpled to the ground. “Let’s try this again…” The Alpha ordered.

“Alright, the thing was pretty slick looking. Skin was dark, kind of patterned. I think I actually saw scales. Is that enough? Because I have someone I really need to talk to.” Apparently that wasn’t enough, so the boy continued.

“Okay, um… Eyes. It’s eyes are yellowish. Slitted. It had a lot of teeth.” Not noticing the look of alarm on the werewolves’ faces as they looked up behind him. “Oh and it has a tail. Okay, we good?” Stiles finally realised what was happening, “What? Have you seen it? You’ve got this look like you know exactly what I’m talking about.” The human spun around and looked at whatever they could see, just as the creature leapt from the wall.

Erica darted in front of her Alpha, trying to protect him but the thing moved too fast for her. Whipping towards her, it shoved the Beta across the floor, her head knocking brutally into the wall, a small yelp accidentally alerting a certain being before she slumped unconscious. Derek saw what had happened to his poor Beta, beginning to fight the creature.

The fight continued, the man trying to protect the sarcastic human from harm. “Get behind me,” Derek ordered, Stiles nodding and retreating behind him, once he does, he notices a bloody slash against the back of the werewolf’s neck. “Derek, your neck…” The man turned around, his hand reaching for his neck just as his leg’s gave out. The paralysis took hold as Derek dropped to his knees.

The two stumble around, Stiles trying to grab his phone from his pocket and Derek keeping watch. As the creature emerged from the darkness, slowly and methodically, Derek’s strength failed, Stiles lost his balance, dropping his phone and Derek slipped from his grip, tumbling into the pool.

Without a moments hesitation, Stiles jumped in after the sinking man, the water splashing as the two burst to the surface, gasping for air. They looked for the creature, hoping out loud that it had fled, only for a piercing shriek to come from the darkness, “Maybe not.” Derek responded.

Timeskip~

“Get me out of here before I drown!” Derek shouted, as Stiles began to struggle to carry the weight of the man. “You’re worried about drowning? Did you notice the thing out there with multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth?” The snarky boy replied. He could almost feel the fury rising in the Lycan as he responded, “Did you notice I’m paralysed from the neck down in eight feet of water!?”

Stiles gave in, beginning to paddle towards the edge of the pool, not seeing the odd thing that was terrorising them. “Stop!” Derek shouted, both of them spotting the glowing yellow eyes at the other side of the pool. “What’s it waiting for?” Stiles asked shakily. The supernatural didn’t respond, his eyes trained purposefully on the creature, as if trying to figure out the answer.

Breathlessly, Stiles adjusted his grip on Derek, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” The creature continued circling his prey, Stiles’ eyes focusing on the phone on the wet tiles nearby. “Don’t even think about it.” Derek commanded.

“Can you trust me for half a second?” Stiles asked exasperated, getting a blatant, “No.” In response. “I’m the one keeping you alive if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy almost yelled, becoming more and more over-exerted.

“When the paralysis wears off, who’s the one who’s going to be able to fight that thing? You or me?” Stiles considered the options he had, asking if that had been why he’d been holding him up for two hours. “Yes. You don’t trust me. I don’t trust you. But you need me to survive. Which is why you’re not letting me go.”

Looking Derek in the eye, Stiles lets go, immediately heading for his phone as Derek sinks to the pool floor. Snatching his phone from the tiles, he turns to see the creature coming straight for him, forcing him to make a desperate leap for the pool. His hand shot out from the water, his last attempt to call for help, as he dials Scott’s number.

“I can’t talk right now.” Scott’s voice sounded from the speaker, before promptly hanging up. Stiles looked at his phone screen, completely gobsmacked at what had just happened. He looked down at the black figure, blurry at the bottom of the pool, having no other choice, he let the phone go and dived to save Derek. The two broke the surface of the water once again, gasping for air.

“Tell me- you got him.” Derek practically pleaded, his voice broken with gasps. Stiles refused to answer, his face telling the other man all he needed to know. The sound of glass breaking overhead scared the both of them, clawed fingers reaching down to grab the two, keeping them in the pool but above the water.

Stiles released his grip on the werewolf, relief flooding through his arms. Sighing, Stiles looked up at whoever had saved them, yelping in surprise at the sight of the winged beauty. It was (y/n). Her eyes were glowing a deep blue, her body was covered in dark feathers and, most importantly, she had huge wings protruding from her back, flapping softly to keep them afloat.

She seemed to be keeping the two men in her hold with no problem, proving her incredible strength. Her bright eyes were quietly observing the creature from afar. Scott then appeared, with his claws and fangs dropped, letting out a fearsome roar. He seemed to be confused, not quite knowing which creature to attack, the one holding his friend and former mentor, or the one still circling the pool.

His dilemma was quickly answered when the scaly creature wrapped its tail around his leg, lifting him off of the floor and and hurtling him towards a wall mirror. Glass shattered, lifting (y/n)’s attention from the men in her arms, she carried them to the pool side, dropping them as gently as she could, before rushing to help Scott. The creature inched ever closer to Scott, in desperation, he grabbed a shard of the broken mirror to use as a weapon.

That’s when it happened. The creature stopped its attack, focusing on its reflection in the shard, it seemed confused by it. As though it didn’t know what it was. Baring its teeth in a shriek, the creature hissed at itself and retreated, leaping onto the wall and darting out of one of the high windows, disappearing into the night.

Realising that everyone else was fine, (y/n) fled to attend to Erica, who was slowly coming to. Helping her and Derek outside to follow Scott and Stiles, who were at the hood of a car, plugging some USB into a laptop. They seemed to be distressed about something, “That’s not English.” Scott decided, looking at the random letters and symbols.

“Is that even a language?” Stiles replied.

“How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is?” Scott questioned, looking even more confused.

“It’s called a Kanima.” Derek called from over their shoulders, with a revived Erica and winged (y/n) at his side. Stiles looked at the three incredulously, “You knew this whole time?” Derek shook his head, the teens attention quickly being taken over by (y/n), “Only when it was confused by its own reflection.” She told them. Scott stood on guard, looking at the odd supernatural.

“It doesn’t know what it is.” He confirmed.

“Or who.” Derek continued. Stiles asked the man what else he knew, “Just stories and rumours. A shapeshifter, but not right. It’s…” He paused, looking for the right word.

“An abomination.” (y/n) finished, looking personally hurt by the word. Derek, looking worried at the young girl, finishing his interaction with the boys, “I know one thing, when I find it, I’m going to kill it.”

(y/n) pov

‘It seems as though phase three may have to wait.’

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So… this one was a lot longer than all the other chapters, it may have seemed a bit monotonous to read, I don’t know, my writing tends to get a bit crap after two thousand words. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed part five! Love you guys! Xxx

#teen wolf #x reader #teen wolf x reader #derek hale #scott mccall #isaac lahey #stiles stilinski #derek hale x reader #isaac lahey x reader #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #romance #love #cute #series #fanfiction #greek mythology #crossover

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notaboutmeeee · 1 year

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Glossing over the fact that they held a funeral without Cora, Derek's sister, and without Isaac, Derek's last remaining beta from when he was an alpha (was he the first turned?), whose life he practically saved.

how the fuck did they hold a funeral without this idiot..

Stiles, who almost didn't leave Derek's side when he was dying that other time (basically choosing Derek over Scott bc att the same time Scott was in danger). Stiles, who also risked his career at the Fbi to save Derek. Stiles, who kept Derek afloat in the pool for hours.

This movie is for sure a Jeff!Au bc of how little it makes any sense. They shouldn't have added the funeral part knowing some of the people important to derek weren't even in the movie. It's just so dumb. And dont get me started on the whole "he's your beta now" "maybe one day when he's ready we'll adopt him" (they do realize he's 15? Pretty soon he'll be an adult and won't need adopting, especially not from 17yold Allison who was trying to kill him. And Scott who he met when he was 3 once. And Eli has living relatives who legally he should live with. And why wasn't Eli his beta before? Are the others Scott's betas or omegas too? How are they not all feral?? Like, nothing makes sense)

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #Little rant/frustration on my part #Hoechlin better have some answers ready for when he goes to conventions #eli hale #isaac lahey #cora hale #teen wolf the movie #Is trash #Edit: just realized that braedan should've been there too tho I don't know if she survived the whole series?

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renjunniex · 8 months

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

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"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

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

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

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

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

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

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

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

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "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."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

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

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

___________________________________

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo

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