Welcome to the 2022 Isaac Lahey Appreciation Week! This event is all about the lanky beta, and has the designated tag #isaacappreciationweek. To ensure visibility for reblogs, you can also tag @softranswolves!
(Optional) Themes:
The Last Beta: as Derek's last surviving beta by the time he leaves Beacon Hills, what do you think Isaac is feeling? Having lost two pack members by death and the other by abandonment, he's gone through a lot in a very short period of time. Think of this as a trauma analysis day.
Pre-Canon: what did Isaac's life look like before we first meet him in 2x01?
Relationships: be it his father or brother, the tense situation between himself and Jackson, his newly formed pack, friends, or romantic and sexual entanglements, this prompt is all about Isaac with others. The relationships can be canon or non-canon.
Fix-It: what's a scene or situation you wished had gone another way?
Complete AU: take Isaac to another reality, such as a royalty era, space travel, or something else!
Outsider POV: take a look at Isaac through the eyes of another character!
Dealer's Choice: it's a free day!
Additional ideas:
Colors
Lyrics/quotes
Favorite lines/scenes
Favorite looks
As always, there's no word count limit on fics, and any kind of creation is welcome - meta, fics, gifs, edits, etc. All themes are also optional, the point of the event is simply to highlight Isaac!
Isaac had been in France all of three weeks, before Jackson Whittemore’s name popped up on his phone screen. He never would’ve thought that he’d find a sense of home in that cocky bastard’s company, but then again, Isaac hadn’t expected most of the shit that life had thrown his way.
*from my Sunflowers AU*
@softranswolves Isaac Lahey Appreciation Week: fix it
flowers on the grave of the child that i used to be
pairings: none
rating: T
word count: 3.7k
important tags: implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced canonical character death, angst and hurt/comfort, sibling bonding
“He used to help me with my English homework,” is what he says, in a slightly strangled voice. Derek’s mouth tugs into a gently amused smile before quickly fading, and Isaac is struck by how much it reminds him of Cam.
written for day 2 of isaac appreciation week 2022! the prompt was pre-canon and it got slightly away from me but i think it still counts. thanks for organizing @softranswolves !!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Isaac Lahey & Isaac Lahey's Father
Characters: Isaac Lahey, Isaac Lahey's Father, Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski
Additional Tags: Sad and Happy, Dialogue Light, Isaac Lahey Appreciation Week 2022
Series: Part 1 of Isaac Appreciation Week 2022
Summary:
So, maybe Isaac doesn't need friends. At the end of the day, he has a house filled with ghosts, a freezer to keep his nightmares fresh, and a head full of memories for whenever he needs to cry.
Day 1 - Bran + Favorite Quote: “Chaos is a ladder”
Isaac’s acting in this scene was absolutely fantastic, he is a great person with many talents. I loved the expression on Lord Baelish’s face when Bran said this.
so our time’s come around, and our wounds run deep
relationships: jackson whittemore & isaac lahey, minor ethan/jackson whittemore
rating: T
total word count: 8.2k
important tags: canon compliant, complicated relationships, gap filler, light angst, hurt/comfort, hopeful ending
warnings: blood & injury, canon-typical violence
There’s nothing to be done about it now, though. Another twenty minutes and Jackson will be in Paris, and from there he has to figure out how to get to Troyes, where supposedly he’ll find this omega. All he has to go off is the word of an alpha in Paris whose intel had come from an anonymous source. For all he knows, it’s a false alarm. A year ago, Jackson would have ignored it.
But a year ago, werewolves weren’t dying left and right.
Not just dying. Being murdered. Being hunted, like they haven’t been in years. And if werewolves are being hunted, Jackson has a vested interest in knowing why.
written for day 6 of isaac appreciation week, for the prompt outsider POV! unsuprisingly this one also got away from me and unsurprisingly i maintain it still counts. thanks again to @softranswolves for organizing :)
@softranswolves Isaac Lahey Appreciation Week: relationships
JISAAC | Teen Rating | 1026 words | read on AO3
“Do you wanna dance?” Jackson asked casually, as if it were a completely normal thing to suggest. As if they were friends, instead of two bastards that came from the same hell hole, who hadn’t spoken in years.
Isaac raised an eyebrow at him. “With you?”
“No shit.” Jackson rolled his eyes as he stood up straighter—making the diamond-studded mesh crop top he was wearing hug his torso deliciously tighter. “I mean, the last time we danced together, you were trying to stab me in the neck with a tranquilizer, so…”
“So, what?” Isaac chuckled, turning to face Jackson. “You think I owe you a dance?”
Jackson shrugged, coyly biting his lower lip. “I think that’s only fair.”
Isaac didn’t hate clubs, per se—but the list of ways he’d rather be spending his Saturday night was longer than the list of reasons why he had PTSD, which was really saying a lot more than it should have for a twenty-two year old. Unfortunately, when his roommate had proposed the idea of going to a popular club during their three day trip to London, Isaac couldn’t come up with a decent enough reason to say no. Apparently drunk, sweaty people being there was not a valid reason. He didn’t really see the hype, considering the best part of the place was the bar—which was infuriatingly useless to a werewolf, who couldn’t get drunk. Though, that didn’t deter him from trying.
He was halfway through his sixth whiskey of the night, when someone behind him suggested, “Thirty-two shots of tequila within an hour, then fifteen each hour after that to keep it going. At least, that usually does the trick for me.”
If Isaac weren’t a werewolf, he probably would’ve broken his neck by how quickly it swiveled to look over his shoulder at the familiar voice. His breath hitched in his chest as his wolf suddenly stirred, instinctually recognizing the only other one of Derek’s remaining betas, who he hadn’t seen in years. Jackson’s cocky smirk was unmistakably the same, but he’d definitely changed. He was still rather lean, though he’d filled out a bit— in all the right places—and grown his hair a few inches longer. It was messily sticking out in all directions, as if someone had gotten their hands in it at some point during the night, and preserved their work in glitter hairspray.
“Jackson?” Isaac asked dumbly, his mind not quite wrapping around the fact that he was actually seeing someone from his hometown for the first time since moving to France five years prior.
“Obviously,” Jackson snarked, but his tone didn’t hold as much bite as Isaac remembered from high school. “What are you doing here, Lahey?”
“Just visiting for a few days,” Isaac responded, his eyes roaming over Jackson’s face, almost mesmerized. His skin appeared to be glowing a bright cyan under the club lights, and the sparkles shimmering on his defined cheekbones and nose reflected the multicolored beams flashing around the room—creating an enticing aura of color that Isaac couldn’t bring himself to look away from.
Jackson nodded as he leaned against the bar counter, his arm just barely brushing against Isaac’s own. The proximity drew Isaac’s attention down to the shine on Jackson’s full lips, and Isaac realized he was wearing lip gloss. He’d never thought much about guys wearing makeup, since it wasn’t his thing and he didn’t know anyone who did, but damn did it look nice on Jackson.
Isaac probably should’ve been more taken aback by his attraction to Jackson Whittemore of all people, but he’d be a liar if he said he’d never noticed the asshole’s good looks before. Jackson had always been unfairly pretty, but Isaac didn’t have much time or energy to even contemplate doing anything about it back then. He was busy trying to survive Beacon Hills, and Jackson was even more insufferable than Isaac was.
“Your Insta’s been silent for like a year,” Jackson commented. “I kinda thought you were dead or something.”
Isaac nearly questioned why he was creeping on his social media, but instead said, “Not yet.”
“Looks like that makes two of us.”
The last two. Who would’ve thought? Isaac toasted his glass towards him, then brought it back to his lips to down the rest of his drink.
“Do you wanna dance?” Jackson asked casually, as if it were a completely normal thing to suggest. As if they were friends, instead of two bastards that came from the same hell hole, who hadn’t spoken in years.
Isaac raised an eyebrow at him. “With you?”
“No shit.” Jackson rolled his eyes as he stood up straighter—making the diamond-studded mesh crop top he was wearing hug his torso deliciously tighter. “I mean, the last time we danced together, you were trying to stab me in the neck with a tranquilizer, so…”
“So, what?” Isaac chuckled, turning to face Jackson. “You think I owe you a dance?”
Jackson shrugged, coyly biting his lower lip. “I think that’s only fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart,” Isaac reasoned, though his eyes fell hungrily down to Jackson’s exposed abdomen. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he eyed the dusting of dark hair trailing from his navel down into the front of his low-riding skinny jeans.
“No,” Jackson agreed, holding his glitter-covered hand out, “but it can be fun.”
Isaac scoffed and shook his head, but slapped his hand down onto Jackson’s nonetheless—who tightly gripped his fingers and yanked him up into his space just as aggressively. A slow smile stretched across Isaac’s face as Jackson provocatively looked up at him through his lashes, and he couldn’t help but ghost his hand along Jackson’s jaw to hook a finger under his chin and guide his face up towards his. Jackson’s confidence always made him seem taller in Isaac’s mind, but he had to be almost half a foot shorter than Isaac.
Considering that Isaac knew Jackson had moved to London before he’d even come to Europe himself, he shouldn’t have been all that surprised to run into him. However, there was no way in hell that he’d could've anticipated that Jackson’s hands would feel so amazing as they slipped under his shirt and left a rough trail of glitter up his stomach while they grinded against each other on the dance floor—or how sexy the combination of the whiskey on his own tongue and Jackson’s sweet lip gloss would taste.
And absolutely nothing could’ve prepared Isaac for how fucking gorgeous Jackson would look in the moonlight streaming in through his penthouse window as Isaac took him apart on satin sheets, or the way his wolf would feel so peaceful and safe and right as he finished inside of the other beta, both of their eyes flaring in the dark as they held each other.
