#Allison might commit. right on the mouth Once and never again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spritewrites · 3 years

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Day 5 - Five

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Five & the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 1166

Author’s Note: Sorry that this is a day late! Ben’s fic will be up soon. Once again, huuuge thanks to @anasticklefics for the event, the information can be found here. Enjoy!

When they were kids, the Umbrella Academy didn’t learn many life skills. Or, maybe that’s reductive; they certainly learned how to load an assault rifle, hack into a government computer on eight different systems, or hotwire a jet ski. But when all was said and done, they were four thirty-year-olds and one grumpy sixty-year-old who didn’t know to separate their whites from their darks before they stuck their clothes in the washing machine. Vanya was… appalled might be a good word for it.

Thus, Operation Life Hack began. It was also known as Operation “Oh God, My Siblings Don’t Know A Damn Thing.”

Phase 1 (it needed phases; mission terminology was the best way to get the Umbrella Academy to understand anything) was cleaning. Grace loaned them a lot of the equipment she used, and Vanya showed them how to dilute bleach, remove stains, and wax floors. Diego got the hang of it quickly (it was just a scaled down version of what he did at the gym), but Luther struggled to get to the hard-to-reach places behind furniture. Phase 2 was laundry, which went remarkably well, but Vanya was most nervous for Phase 3: cooking.

The siblings were huddled around the kitchen table, peering over one another’s shoulders at the recipe laid flat before them.

“Okay,” Vanya began, catching their attention. “What do you already know?”

“I can scramble an egg,” Luther offered.

“I can make ramen,” Diego added, not to be outdone. Vanya sighed. Okay, long day it is.

An hour later, five well-meaning superheroes (and one exasperated superhero) were about two-thirds into a three-course meal. Allison had come in knowing how to boil water, but quickly learned that you weren’t supposed to keep the lid on the pot after the pasta started cooking. Similarly, Luther had his giant hands wrapped around the world’s smallest pair of tweezers, carefully picking out pin bones from the fish.

Some of the other siblings were faring slightly better. Turns out, the drugs had given Klaus an affinity for chemistry, and he was elbows-deep in a bowl of biscuit dough at this point. Diego was so adept at knives that he was an unexpected expert at chopping vegetables, dicing the onions and mincing the garlic without ever once cutting himself. (He did shed some tears at the onions, though, which the others made fun of him for.)

Vanya, however, wasn’t paying much attention to them anymore. Her focus was directed at her oldest brother, who was flouring the counter for Klaus. Five wasn’t much of a team player, and on top of that, cooking clearly wasn’t his thing. His brows were knitted firmly, and he kept flinching anytime somebody so much as brushed past him. He already wasn’t used to eating real food, preferring either pure sugar or canned vegetables and spam, and the crowded, chaotic setting of a kitchen wasn’t putting him at ease.

With a sigh, Vanya set down the instructions for the fish and sidled up next to him. He glanced up to acknowledge her approach, but he hid his discomfort behind a wall of concentration. His whole front was covered in flour, so clearly the task needed some focus. Vanya softened at the sight. Operation Life Hack was temporarily put on hold in favor of Operation Make Five Smile.

“You want an apron or something?”

Five rolled his eyes, grabbing a rolling pin from a drawer. “This whole cooking thing is nonsense. Operation Make Life Harder.”

Vanya raised an eyebrow and elbowed his side. “Yeah? What’re you going to do, get a job? Buy food instead?”

“I can just steal it,” he shrugged. “Blink in, blink out. Never know I’m there.”

A laugh escaped her, despite her best efforts. “I thought the whole point of the apocalypse being stopped was that we were avoiding committing crimes.”

“What’s a little petty theft among family?” Five retorted, but he was grinning. Score.

Across the room, Allison let out a yelp as a little bit of hot water splashed out onto her hand. “I’m okay!” she groaned, but the noise had already made Five jump. A handful of flour burst out of the bag he was holding, spilling down his already dusty front. Vanya clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.

“Here, you’ve got some – I’ve got it.” She smiled, reaching for him, but Five ducked out of range. His nose wrinkled, and for a second Vanya could see the old man that he really was.

“I can do it,” he grumbled, rubbing at his shirt. The flour smudged, but stubbornly refused to come off.

“No, you’re – here, I can—” Vanya insisted, grabbing the fabric and scrubbing firmly at his stomach. Five’s whole body jerked backwards, stumbling right into Klaus.

“Hey!” his brother protested, shoving Five off and back into Vanya.

Five, for his part, was thoroughly rattled. “I can do it, I said,” he tried again, but Vanya knocked his hands away.

“You can’t get the flour off if you have it all over your hands too, here—” She snatched a wrist and started brushing at it with her shirt sleeve. For the first time, an actual giggle rang through the kitchen.

“S-stop it, you’re t—I can handle it,” he snorted, twitching in her grip. Honestly, he’d forgotten how ticklish he was there – but Vanya hadn’t. She grinned as she dropped her shirt sleeve in favor of scratching at his palm with her fingernails. This time, Five jumped so hard that he nearly toppled over, tugging uselessly at his wrist and falling over himself with giggles.

A presence behind him made him gulp. “Aw, I forgot about that spot,” Klaus teased over his shoulder. “Is this one still bad too?”

Five shrieked and kicked out as the backs of his ribs were attacked with devastating pokes. Vanya tried to keep a grip on his hand, she really did, but the sight of her brother spasming with laughter as he frantically tried to keep his balance was too much for her. She started laughing too, hard, letting his wrist slip out of her grasp. With the loss of that stability, Five finally lost his battle with gravity, slipped away from Klaus, and ended up sprawled on the tile, gasping for air.

When he found the strength to look up, he found his entire family standing over him, not even trying to stifle their laughter. Five wrinkled his nose.

“You’re all assholes.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Diego cried.

“Not yet,” Five sniffed, propping himself up on his elbows and brushing fruitlessly at the flour that still clung to his shirt.

“Actually,” Allison smirked. “You’re right. We haven’t done anything... yet.”

Five’s cleaning efforts stopped short, and he scrambled back – only to run up against Klaus’ knees. “No. No no no, wait—”

Operation Life Hack was largely unsuccessful, and Vanya still ended up scrubbing their dishes more often than not. Still, if she could make her family smile, then that was enough.

#tua #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #ticklish!five #my fics #tickle fic #tua tickle fic week

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fandomrewrites · 3 years

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Season 3a; Episode 11: Alpha Pact

Hello all! After this one there is only one more chapter of season 3a! If you guys are liking the story and want to be added to the taglist let me know! As always constructive criticism is welcomed. And please make sure to answer my pinned post if you like the 100!

Season 3a; Episode 11: Alpha Pact

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend

Warnings: panic attack, swearing

Word Count: 4,112

Season 3a masterlist

Hearing someone running down the stairs, I turned to see Stiles. "Where's Scott? Where's my mom?"

Stiles sighs, "Jennifer took your mom. And Scott..." He trails off.

"Stiles, what happened?"

"He went with Deucalion." My mouth falls open in shock, unsure of how to process this new information. Rather than thinking about it right now I decided to turn back around to try and get Derek to wake up.

After a few more agonizingly long minutes Derek slowly blinks his eyes open. Spotting me and Stiles above him, he pushes himself into a sitting position and asks, "Where is she?"

"Jennifer? Gone." Stiles answers.

"With my mom." I quietly add, still trying to process the fact that my only two family members are with psychopaths.

"She took her?" Derek questions.

Stiles nods, "Yeah. And if that wasn't enough of a kick to the balls, Scott also left with Deucalion. So get up. The police are coming and we need to get you the hell out of here."

Stiles and I both help Derek off of the elevator floor, "What about Cora?" The Alpha asks, concerned for his sister.

"She made it out with Peter and Isaac." I answer as we make our way to the exit.

"You should go with him, (Y/N/N)." Stiles speaks up.

I quickly shake my head, "No, I'm staying with you." Stiles sighs but nods.

Before Derek gets the chance to leave, I pull him into a quick hug. "Be careful. And please keep us updated."

Derek awkwardly pats my back, "Uh, yeah. You too."

Stiles raises his eyebrow in question once Derek is gone, "What? I'm his favorite. I can get away with doing things like that." I shrug in response.

Stiles shakes his head, though a small smile forms on his lips. "Let's go wait for the cops." He says, leading me over to the waiting room chairs.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I sat side-by-side holding tightly to each other's hand. We needed some sort of comfort since both of our parents were taken by Jennifer and Scott decided to be friendly with the demon wolf.

We looked up at the sound of the hospital doors opening. My mouth fell open as I saw an FBI agent making his way towards us, "Do you think he saw me? Can I make a run for it?" I quietly ask Stiles.

"I'm pretty sure he saw you." He gave my hand a squeeze. "I'll be right here for you the whole time."

Once the Agent approaches I quickly look down at mine and Stiles entwined hands, refusing to make eye contact. I start focusing on my breathing, counting inside my head but also focusing on the words exchanged between the two guys near me.

"A Stilinski at the center of all this mess. What a shocker." My jaw clenches at his words and I can feel Stiles becoming more annoyed by the second. "Though I do wish you weren't here, (Y/N)."

Neither Stiles nor I answer. "Do you think you can give me some answers without the usual level of sarcasm?"

"If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid." Stiles replies, glaring at the man.

I start to play with Stiles fingers as I hear the Agent speak once more, "Where's your dad and why has nobody been able to contact him?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen him in hours." Stiles answers.

"Is he drinking again?"

"What do you mean again? He never had to stop." Stiles spits out.

"That was you." I mumbled under my breath, but both men heard me.

The agent sighs but chooses to ignore my words, "But he did have to slow down. Is he drinking like he used to?"

"How about next time I see him I give him a field sobriety test? We'll do the alphabet starting with F and ending with U." Stiles angrily says, making me smile lightly.

"How about you just tell me what the hell happened here?" The agent asks, trying a different approach.

"We don't know. We were stuck in the elevator the whole time." Stiles answers, sticking to the lie we came up with earlier.

"You're not the one who put the name on the doors, are you?"

For the first time in the conversation I look up, exchanging a look with Stiles. "What name?" We ask together.

"Argent. Do you know who that is?" Stiles and I both nod in response, not feeling the need to answer considering the agent probably already knows who they are too.

"Well you can leave Stiles, I would like to talk with my daughter."

"I stopped being your daughter the day you left me and Scott. If Stiles is leaving I am too. And you can't make me stay." I glare at the man. I look back to Stiles and tug on his hand, "Come on."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I quickly make our way to the Argent's to let them know that their name was left on the elevator doors at the hospital. "The word is Guardian, Allison. More than anyone, you know that's a role I haven't exactly lived up to lately." Mr. Argent says to his daughter.

We move down the hall, walking into Mr. Argent's office. "But she took Mrs. McCall and Stiles' father. That's not a coincidence." Allison argues.

"I'd also consider the fact someone put your name in large block letters on the elevator doors. That kind of felt like a pretty big warning to me." Stiles adds.

"I think it might have been Morrell. I think she knows a lot more than she lets on. She might even be trying to help us."

"Well she needs to get on that a lot faster since the lunar eclipse is less than two freaking nights away."

Stiles fell into a chair as I chewed on my bottom lip. "Stiles, don't give up hope." Mr. Argent says, looking at the teenager.

"They could already be dead."

"I don't think so. There's something about Jennifer's tactics. It's like she's still positioning. Still moving pieces into place."

"And you're one of them." Allison says.

"Okay." Mr. Argent sighs, "Then let's not wait around to see her next move."

He lays out a map then continues speaking, "Everything she's done has been on a Telluric Current. So Melissa and the Sheriff have to be somewhere on one of the Currents, right?"

"That would make sense." I answer. Though Mr. Argent is looking at Stiles.

"Stiles, if we're going to find them, we need your help."

"You seriously want to go after her? Have you even seen what she's been able to do? She tossed Scott across the room like it was nothing." I place a comforting hand on Stiles shoulder as he speaks, understanding his concern and frustration.

"What if she just takes you like the others? I mean, no offense, but what's the difference between you and them?" Stiles continues.

"I'm carrying a .45." Mr. Argent places the gun on top of the map. "Maybe she can heal from a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face. But, personally, I'd like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off. We've got one priority right now. Find your mom," He says looking at me.

He then turns to Stiles, "And your dad. We've got a map and every clue we need to figure this out. The only thing we don't have is time. Which is why I need all three of you."

"We can do this. We have to." I say, giving Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze.

Stiles nods in response, "Where do we start?" We all gather around the map as Mr. Argent pulls out a black light.

"The place where the sacrifices have been committed have usually been different from where the bodies have been found. I think the placement has to do with the strength of the Current. So there's the School, the Animal Clinic, the Bank."

"What about the motel?" Stiles asks.

"I don't think she'd take them that far."

"This still looks like too much ground to cover. We could spend weeks looking at all the possibilities." Allison says.

"She must have some sort of pattern that she follows." I add in.

"She wouldn't use the same place twice, would she?" Stiles questions.

"Only if she didn't succeed the first time." Mr. Argent says. He moves his finger to point at the bank.

"Scott's boss?" Allison asks her father.

"Deaton. It was her only failure. That could mean something."

"So we should go check it out, right?"

"Definitely."

"But that's just one place so far. We need more help." Stiles says.

"What about Lydia?"

"Lydia? What can she do?" Mr. Argent asks.

"She's found a few of the bodies without meaning to. It has to be related to the supernatural but we're not sure what she is yet." I answer. I then turn to look at Allison, "We can try to see if she knows anything but she still doesn't know how to control it. And if they are still alive she may not even be able to help."

Allison and her father nod. They then turn to start collecting weapons so that they can go to the bank and try to find my mom and the Sheriff. Stiles and I look on in awe as we see the two Argent's pull out weapon after weapon. "I thought you guys were retired?" Stiles asks.

"Retired, yes." Mr. Argent says, "Defenseless, no. Now make sure your phone's on. If you hear from Scott, let us know immediately."

"I'm thinking that's going to be kind of unlikely." At Stiles' words, he, Allison and I share a look.

"The three of you, try to remember he's just doing what he thinks is right. I've seen that seventeen year old boy come through more often than most men I've known. Don't give up yet."

"I'll never give up on my brother." I say, a look of determination on my face. Stiles gives a nod as we turn our attention to Allison.

She isn't paying attention to us but rather looking towards the door. We follow her gaze to see Isaac, "How did you get in here?" Mr. Argent asks.

"Through her window." Isaac replies, glancing at Allison. "Sorry. I just. I want to help. I can't shoot a gun or use a crossbow. But I'm starting to get pretty good with these." He opens his hand to reveal his claws.

"We'll take it." Mr. Argent says.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I are now sitting in Lydia's room, telling her about what occured at the hospital. "I don't believe it. Scott can't really be with them. He can't be." She says, shaking her head.

"You didn't see the look on his face. It was the same one I saw on my mother when the doctors told her there was nothing they could do. It was just total hopelessness." Stiles replies.

"I still think he'll come through. It's Scott we're talking about. He'll never do anything to harm someone." I say.

"What do I do?" Lydia asks, "I mean I get that I'm like some kind of human Geiger counter for death. But I don't know how to turn it on and off yet. All I know is she tried to kill me because of..." She trails off.

"Because of what? Lydia?" I ask, lightly grabbing my best friend's hand.

"She called me a Banshee. (Y/N/N), you were on the right track. I'm a Banshee. She was surprised by it. What if that's not why she tried to kill me?"

"Then why did she?" Stiles questions.

"That's what we need to find out."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Lydia, and I walk through the school hallways. Lydia keeps glancing at her phone, "Aiden's not texting me back."

The sound of my phone beeping stops her from saying anything else, "What? Oh God, what is it now?" She asks me as I look at the text.

"It's Isaac. Jennifer took Allison's father. That means she has all three of them now." I reply. I stare down at my phone and quickly reply only to shove it in my pocket a second later.

Lydia's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, "Stiles? Are you okay?"

I quickly turn to face him, seeing that his breathing is becoming irregular. "No." He mutters out.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"He's having a panic attack." I answer, already knowing the symptoms.

I gently take him by his arm as I bring him into the locker room. "Just think about something else. Anything else." Lydia says as she follows us into the room.

"Like?" Stiles asks.

I lower him to a sitting position as Lydia continues, "Happy things. Good things. Friends, family- I mean- not family."

"I love you Lyds, but please shut the fuck up." I say as gently as possible.

"I can't- I can't." Stiles says, breath becoming more rapid. His hands are placed firmly on his knees. Without much thought I gently grab his face, forcing him to look at me.

"Stiles. Look at me. Focus on my voice. Match my breathing." He gasps for breath, still not being able to stop the panic attack. Finally, I close the distance between our faces and kiss him.

After a brief moment, he gently begins to kiss back. Our lips slowly part, Stiles' body relaxes as he opens his eyes to look at me. "How did you do that?" He quietly asks.

"Holding your breath helps you regain control of your breathing. When I kissed you, you held your breath."

"I did?"

"You did."

"How did you know that holding your breath helps?"

"I started having panic attacks after my dad left. Plus I used the same trick on Isaac not too long ago." I shrug.

"Thanks, that was really smart."

"It was nothing." I shrug once more.

Lydia speaks up, "Well if I was really smart I'd tell you to sign up for a few sessions with the Guidance Counselor. Both of you."

"Morrell." Stiles says.

"She knows more than you'd expect."

I scoff, "Yeah, you can say that again." Stiles and I share a knowing look. I help him stand back up so that we can go talk with Morrell.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Once we made it to Morrell's office we saw a girl waiting, "You here for Ms. Morrell?" Stiles asks.

"No, I thought this was gym class." I would have laughed at her sarcastic reply if we weren't in such a rush to find the woman in question.

"Sweetheart, we're not in the mood for funny. Do you know where she is?" Lydia questions.

"If I did I wouldn't have been waiting here for twenty minutes. So how about you three back out the door and wait your turn."

"We're not here for a session."

"Well I am. And I've got some serious issues to work on."

"You're Danielle. You're Heather's best friend." Stiles says, realizing who the girl is.

"I was Heather's best friend. We've been working on that issue three times a week."

"Hold on. Did you say Morrell's twenty minutes late?" Lydia asks, bringing the attention back to her.

Danielle nods, "And I don't know why either. She's always on time."

Lydia turns her attention to Stiles and I, "I was seeing her at the beginning of the semester. She was never late. Not even a minute."

"Three guesses on where she is." I say looking at Stiles.

"I want to know what she knows." Stiles replies. He starts rifling through papers on her desk then moves to the filing cabinet when he doesn't find anything. I turn to help as the other two look on in shock.

"What are you two doing?" Danielle asks.

"Trying to find her."

"Those files are private."

"She's kinda right." Lydia pipes in.

"Here's yours." Stiles says, pulling out Lydia's file.

"Let me see that." Lydia grabs the file from Stiles hand. She opens it, looking inside. The rest of us looked over her shoulder to see.

"Wait. That's your drawing."

"Yeah, I know. It's a tree."

"You're good." Danielle says, impressed.

Lydia brightly smiles, "Thank you."

"That's the same one." Stiles says.

I gently pull the drawing out of the file to get a better look as Lydia asks him, "The same as what?"

"The same one I've seen you drawing in class."

"It's a tree. I like drawing trees."

"No, he means it's the same one. Like the exact same." I reply, finally tearing my eyes away from the drawing.

"Let me see your bag." Stiles says. He opens her bag to pull out her notebook. When he opens it we see the same drawing found on page after page. The only difference is the size of each drawing.

"Okay, you can have my session. You've got bigger issues." Danielle replies, she stands up and walks out of the room, though the rest of us don't pay much attention.

"What is this?" Lydia asks, clearly frightened.

Stiles and I are both quiet as we study the drawings, "Wait. What if it's not supposed to be looked at this way?" I speak up. I take one of the drawings and turn it upside down.

"I know where they are." Stiles says.

"The root cellar." I add, voiced laced with disbelief.

After putting Lydia's file back where we found it we rushed out of Morrell's office. "It's the Nemeton. That's where she's keeping them. It has to be."

"(Y/N), Stilinski!" A voice calls from down the hall.

"I'm not dealing with this right now." I say as soon as my eyes meet my fathers.

"I will, don't worry." Stiles reassures.

"We'll go to Derek's. Him and Peter will know where it is." Stiles nods at my words. I grab Lydia's hand as I tug her away.

"Was that your dad?" Lydia asks.

"Yes, I don't want to interact with him anymore than I need to."

*_*_*_*_*_*

I reach to open the loft door without knocking but stop when it slides open to reveal Peter. "You." Lydia says in shock.

"Me." Peter replies.

Lydia's anger rises, "You."

Peter winces at her tone, "Me." He says once more, almost sounding apologetic. "Derek. We have visitors."

Peter steps back to let us in. We walk past him to see Derek beside Cora. "How is she?" I ask, laying a gentle hand on the Alpha's shoulder.

"Not getting any better." He replies. He then turns around to properly face Lydia and I. "What do you girls need?"

We quickly explain the situation to both Peter and Derek and wait for them to reply. Though when they answer, it isn't what we wanted to hear. "You don't know where it is?" Lydia asks, confused.

"We did. After a few memorable experiences, though..." He shares a look with Derek. "Talia- Derek's mother and my older sister- decided she didn't want us ever going back. She knew how dangerous it was. So she took the memory of its location from us."

"So how do we find out where it is?" I ask, my frustration rising.

*_*_*_*_*_*

After leaving Derek's loft we met up with Stiles, Isaac, and Allison at the Animal Clinic. All of us, plus the vet, stood around an exam table, "It has to be on a Telluric Current. Maybe even at the axis of two. Or where all intersect. I know it's where Derek took Paige to die." Stiles speaks, glancing at me as he says the last part.

"My dad and Gerard were there once. But Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn't remember where it was. And my dad obviously isn't going to be able to tell us now." Allison says.

"Mine either."

"She took everyone who would remember." Lydia pipes in.

"Then how do we find this place?" Isaac questions.

"That's the same question I asked Peter and Derek. They didn't have an answer." I reply.

We turn to Deaton, "Doc?" Stiles asks.

Deaton sighs, "There might be a way. But it's dangerous. And most importantly, for it to work... We're going to need Scott."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Deaton, and I stood in front of Stiles jeep. The headlights of the car lighting up the darkness around us. Scott steps out from the shadows, slowly making his way over to us. "How did you find out?" Scott asks.

"Lydia. You?" Stiles answers.

"Morrell. But none of the Alphas know where it is either."

"If this works, are you going to tell them?"

"I can't stop Jennifer without them."

"How about we concentrate on finding your parents first?" Deaton pipes in.

Scott nods, "What's the plan?"

"Essentially, you, Allison and Stiles need to be surrogate sacrifices for your parents."

"So we die for them?"

"But he can bring us back." Stiles says. He then turns to Deaton, "You can definitely bring us back, right?"

"Hopefully, yes."

"Hopefully?" I ask, bringing the attention to me.

"You remember the part where I said it was dangerous?" Deaton then turns to Scott, "If it goes right, the three of you will only be dead for a few seconds. But there's something else you need to think about. This is a dangerous thing in more ways than one. You'll be giving power back to the Nemeton. A place that hasn't had power for a long time. When it did, Beacon Hills was quite different. This kind of power is like a magnet."

"A magnet for the supernatural?" I ask.

Deaton nods so Stiles speaks, "Doesn't sound any worse than what we've already seen."

"You'd be surprised what you have yet to see." Deaton ominously says.

"Is that it?" Scott asks, hoping that that's all there is to worry about.

"No. It'll also have an affect on the three of you. You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It'll be a kind of darkness over your heart. And permanent. Like a scar."

"Like a tattoo." Scott whispers.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Reconvening at the Animal Clinic, Scott, Stiles and Allison step towards the tubs filled with ice. "All right. What did you bring?" Deaton asks the three teenagers.

Stiles holds up his dad's badge, "Jennifer kind of crushed it in her hand. I hammered it out a bit. Still doesn't look great."

"It doesn't have to look good if it has meaning." Deaton's eyes then move to Allison.

She holds up a silver bullet, "Is that an actual silver bullet?" Isaac asks, looking at it cautiously.

"My dad made it. It's sort of a ceremonial thing. When one of us finishes learning all the skills to be a Hunter, you forge your own silver bullet as a testament to the code." Allison replies.

"Scott?" Deaton asks, looking at my twin.

He holds up mom's watch, "My dad gave this to my mom when she first got hired at the hospital. She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked."

Stiles looks it over, "It says water-resistant. Not waterproof."

"I don't think she's going to mind if it saves her life."

"Okay, the three of you will get in. Each of us will hold you down until you're essentially... well, dead. But it's not just someone to hold you under. It's someone who can pull you back. Someone with a strong connection to you. A kind of emotional tether."

Lydia immediately starts moving towards Allison while I move towards Scott. "(Y/N), you go with Stiles."

"Scott's my twin though. I'm pretty sure we have the biggest emotional connection." I say, giving the vet a questioning look.

"You'll be able to bring Stiles back and Isaac will be able to bring Scott."

I look in between Scott and Stiles, unsure what to do. Scott gives me an encouraging nod, "It's okay."

We all take our places and the trio steps into the tubs. They shiver as they sit down and Stiles turns towards Scott, "By the way, if I don't come back and you do, you should probably know something. Your dad's in town."

Scott quickly glances at me seeing an unreadable expression on my face. I give him a brief nod then he turns back around to focus on the task at hand. In an instant Isaac, Lydia, and I all push our respective people under the water, waiting until they lay still.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe @judayyyw

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

Note

🔥 Responsible Luther

(Other responsible Luther au posts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven)

After everything happens, after the Commission is destroyed and the apocalypse is permanently stopped, and they give their dad what for... they have to figure out how to live without the apocalypse hanging over their head.

And also, they figure out how to deal with the friends they made along the way.

Which means that Agnes comes over with a casserole and a smile and a dozen new pictures of birds, and Allison brings Claire and Patrick down since there’s now no chance of being caught in the kidnapping crossfire, and Luther thinks he’s going to need to invest in a bigger table heck

Which means that Claire is loudly making bird noises while pointing at the pictures Agnes brought over, while Agnes attempts to teach her the proper ones while Patrick balances little Claire on his lap with all the longsuffering patience of a father of a toddler.

Klaus is loudly debating the merits of Clue vs. Monopoly with Diego while Vanya shuffles a deck of cards absently because she already knows that they’re going to end up playing poker or something

Luther and Allison are in the kitchen attempting to cook. Allison’s food skills tend to be geared towards the food tastes of a toddler, so she’s got mac ‘n cheese and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets down pat but other things uhhhhh not so much. Luther has gotten progressively better, but he’s no Jamie Oliver

Which leaves Hazel to sit awkwardly at the table across from an unimpressed Five.

“I’m not calling you Uncle Hazel.” Five says dismissively, “No matter what Klaus calls you.”

“That seems fair.” Hazel is awkward as he shuffles uncomfortably on the second-hand chair that Luther picked up after Diego threw Klaus and broke one of them after a particularly lively debate.

(Klaus seems to have decided that being adopted into the family is punishment enough for Hazel, for some reason. Then again, Five has seen the glint in Klaus’s eye when he gives Hazel a big hug. Klaus is less forgiving than people might think. He’s just very petty about it.)

“You tried to kidnap me.” Five crosses his arms, “Multiple times.”

Hazel clears his throat, “Uh. Yes. That is true. I... did that.”

Five tilts his head, calculatingly. “What do you think that’s worth?”

“W - Worth?” Hazel looks lost. It’s almost sweet, how he even now underestimates Five’s vicious streak. Even after seeing Five with explosives and covered in dust after crawling through the ceilings of the Commission like an unholy gremlin.

Five shrugs, “If you’re going to be... part of the family or whatever, and I am fully prepared to call Agnes my aunt because let’s be real, I witnessed her slap Dad and that makes her family for life. She seems to like you a lot.”

That makes Hazel smile.

“Ew.” Five can only offer in response to that, “But back to my point. Agnes rules, and I think she’s decided that Mom is her new best friend, Claire is her new grandchild, and that Klaus needs fattening up. Which I guess makes you family, too.”

Hazel just nods, a tad hesitantly.

“We’ve had enough of shit family.” Five says firmly, “So if you’re going to be part of it then you have to commit. You have to be here.”

“Okay.” Hazel says, “I can do that.” He isn’t actually sure he can, but he’s determined to try since he’s head over heels for Agnes and Agnes seems like she’s decided to take the Hargreeves under her wing.

“Right.” Five nods decisively. “I’m thinking Disney World.”

“Of course - wait.” Hazel pauses, clearly making a moment to process what just came out of Five’s mouth. “What?”

“You kidnapped me.” Five declares, loud enough that Hazel makes shushing noises, even though literally everyone in the house knows about his past. “And I get you helped everyone come get me of whatever, even though I totally had that handled, but you totally kidnapped me. And that’s definitely worth Disney World.”

“You. Want me to take you to Disney World.” Hazel sounds out slowly, as if tasting the words in his mouth before speaking them. As if that will make this conversation make some amount of sense.

“Me and Claire. And Klaus.” Five clarifies, tapping on the table. “Maybe the others, too.”

“Why.” Hazel asks, just completely flabbergasted.

Five shrugs. “Klaus wants to go, and I’ve never been. Klaus says that it’s an apology thing if a family member needs forgiving, they do some big nice gesture and then bygones are bygones.”

Hazel processes that. “I don’t think. I don’t think that’s exactly the uh, the healthiest perspective. On that.”

“So.” Five says pointedly.

“I can. Try?” Hazel offers helpfully, “I mean, I’d have to talk it over with uh, with Agnes.”

“Five Hargreeves.” A voice interrupts them, as Luther sweeps in, “Are you blackmailing Hazel?”

Five shrugs unapologetically, “More like blatantly guilting him.”

“That’s my boy!” Klaus hollers from the other room, and then yelps and if they concentrate everyone can hear Vanya scolding their brother. Something about ‘encouraging behavior’ and ‘their ridiculous family already has enough criminal tendencies’.

“In my defense,” Five points out, “He did kidnaps me. And Klaus. More than once.”

“In his defense, you kind of suck as a hostage.” Luther points accusingly at Five with a spatula, “You broke his arm in three places.”

“He was kidnapping me!” Five sputters.

“I did do that.” Hazel offers, looking very contrite. “I deserved that, really.”

“And he fed Mr. Pennycrumb half his vegetables last time he was here.” Five accuses, not appreciating Hazel’s assistance.

That makes Luther put his hands on his hips and stare at a red faced Hazel.

“It was green beans.” Hazel mutters, not quite willing to meet anyone’s eyes and so he addresses the table rather than anyone in the room.

“Is that why he smelled so bad?” Luther demands, looking between Hazel and Five absolutely aghast.

“Worth a trip to Disney World?” Five grins cheekily.

Luther just gives a long suffering sigh, “I’m going back to help Allison in the kitchen. This officially no longer involves me.”

Hazel gives Luther’s retreating back the most betrayed look for leaving him alone with Five, which is honestly fair.

“So.” Five turns his full attention on Hazel, tapping his fingers together and looking like a tiny supervillain. Considering that Five’s literal job used to be fighting villains as part of a child superhero teams, this was likely on purpose. “About that literal guilt trip.”

Hazel just buries his face into his palms and groans.

#responsible luther au #ask game #have some post-everything with weird uncle hazel #once you storm a horrible time travelling organization to rescue your teenage nemesis you end up being one of the family #well actually #you end up family when your gf beats up reginald's abusive ass #the hargreeves are all charmed and love her #agnes thinks claire is adorable #allison loves agnes and agnes thinks allison needs a womanly shoulder to cry on #patrick is okay with coming down for a week but Allison Holy Fuck Your Family Is Wild #but also he's married to allison so just just rolls with the punches #the big guy at the table kidnapped your brother-in-law multiple times and tried to cause the apocalypse?#until he fell in love with the bird watching donut lady who is also at the table for some reason?#i mean. all right.#klaus is a big child who wants to go to disney world and has convinced five that it is Absolutely Necessary #honestly the best way to get the family to do anything is to convince five it's a good idea #everyone is trying so hard to raid five and give him a real childhood #he has so much power #and at heart he's a manipulative little asshole #Anonymous

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takingcourage · 5 years

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Baby Steps

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC

Word Count: 1,400

Summary: After an awkward end to lunch, Thomas and Allison each try to decide what comes next.

Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything other than student feedback. Why did I decide to become a college instructor, again? In my attempts to get back into the flow of writing fiction, I decided to try something new. I’m still finishing up the next chapter of Additions, plus some drabble requests for Jaime x MC, but here’s a little bit of Thomas Mendez in the meantime.

Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Sighing out the mantra, Allison yanked down her sweaty ponytail and flung the hair tie toward the cup holder. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the band slipped through the sliver of space between the center console and the seat. Biting back the oath that was ready on her tongue, she slid a hand into the crack.

Nothing but faux leather and upholstery.

“Great. Just great.” Mumbling, she glanced up just in time to slam on her brakes. A minivan swerved in from the entrance ramp, oblivious to her proximity.

Allison eased her foot back onto the gas and switched lanes. The vehicle lurched forward, its motion doing little to quell the growing pit in her stomach.

“I've got to get this out of my system before I pick up Kira.” But even with her newfound determination, the feeling didn’t go away.

She liked Thomas. Really liked him. He was quickly becoming one of the best parts of this new life she and Kira were building for themselves in Goldcliffe.

Given her history, it was little wonder that she found him so compelling. He was kind and considerate and driven: the kind of many who had integrity written over every inch of his body. And boy, is that body gorgeous, she reflected as the image of his toned physique resurfaced for the hundredth time.

But beyond all of that, he was loyal and genuine. Just the way he talked about Luz was proof of his commitment to family. Seeing their interactions had left no doubt as to his devotion and stability. Allison’s stomach rolled again, though this time it had nothing to do with the movement of the car.

She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, trying to ignore the flash of heat that came with imagining what might have happened if Thomas hadn't pushed her away. It had been years since she'd been kissed -- even longer since she'd felt safe in a man's arms the way she had in his today.

For half a second, she'd been certain he was going to follow through. The quivering breath, the way his pupils had dilated to darken his eyes, the slight parting of those pink, inviting lips...

But the kiss never came. He'd panicked and grown flustered in a way that somehow made her care about him even more. Did I overstep again? Her fingers clenched the wheel at the intrusive question.

He'd assured her once that she hadn’t strayed beyond acceptable boundaries, but that conversation felt like ages ago. In the time since, she’d flirted with him during every interaction, and he’d always returned the attention.

When he realizes I’m flirting in the first place, that is, she thought with a faint smile.

Whatever they’d shared during these past weeks, it had been enough to make her believe he was ready for more than just friendship. Clearly, something had changed today.

Pulling into the museum lot, she glanced at her phone. There were still a few minutes before she needed to head inside for Kira.

Hey, she typed, mouthing the words as her thumbs tapped them out on the tiny keyboard. Thanks again for lunch and for the run. I had a great time. We should do it again sometime, but only if you want to. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

She grumbled and deleted all but the first two sentences.

Next time you need someone to vent to, I'm here.

That wasn’t quite right either.

I really enjoyed today. Sorry for the awkward moment at lunch. Can we forget it happened?

The backlight dimmed as she continued staring at the words. What if bringing it up only made things worse? The last thing she needed right now was to pressure him and push him away any further. He would reach out to her when he was ready.

Mind made up, she tossed the phone into her purse, tugged the strap over her shoulder, and ventured inside.

_____

A mass of curls fell into Thomas’s eyes as he thumbed the stack of papers. He shoved the damp hair back into place with one hand, the other still searching for the cover page of the document he and Allison had retrieved from the floor. He’d been too distracted earlier to ensure that everything had made it into the pile in the correct order. Locating the appropriate page, he pulled it out and turned it face down on the desk.

It was busywork, but Thomas didn’t mind. His thoughts were too muddled to be very much use at the moment.

Soledad had always taken his pensive moods in stride. Most of the time, she’d iron the creases from his brow with a kiss before fiercely talking him out of whatever metaphorical hole he’d fallen into. She’d had a knack for driving his worries far away.

Solving problems had always been better with her. Not simpler, per se, but her methods were always more effective than his own.

It was just one of many struggles he’d been working through in the past two years. As ridiculous as it felt to admit, he’d spent a lot of that time wondering if he was still qualified to handle life on his own. After all their years of doing things together, feeling complete as an individual had become nearly impossible.

No wonder I miss her, he mused, finally coming to the end of his collating.

And he did miss her. Terribly. There were days when it physically ached to think of her.

Papers in order, Thomas sat far back into the chair. In spite of the generous cushion, his posture was rigid. The question he'd been avoiding swept back into his consciousness: What if it’s more than that?

What if he’d spent the past two years missing more than just his wife’s presence? What if the loss of companionship was every bit as visceral as the loss of her?

Until Allison, he hadn’t realized how much he craved easy conversation and camaraderie.

...Among other things, his mind wandered, eyes pulling shut again at the very recent memory of having her in his arms. On a physical and emotional level, everything had told him to kiss her. Mentally, he’d been forced to hold back.

He’d always thought that kissing another woman would make him think of kissing his wife, but today had brought him close enough to see that it simply wasn’t true. In fact, it was the stark difference between the two women that had ignited his panic.

For two years, it had been clear that he couldn’t even imagine kissing someone who wasn’t Soledad. No other woman had appeared in his dreams. No one else had been the object of his longing in the sleepless nights that had haunted him for the first year. She was the only one who ever sprang to mind when he saw other couples kiss, trying to remember what it had been like to indulge in that simple pleasure himself.

Until Allison, just the thought of kissing anyone else was unfathomable.

In the encroaching solitude of the empty office, he could finally come to grips with what had happened that afternoon. He’d been inches away from kissing another woman and he’d wanted to follow through. That fact alone had been enough to drive him away from her.

The poor woman had to wonder what was wrong with him.

Thomas’s eyes roamed over the desk before settling on his phone. As he stared into space, he composed a message in his head. Allison, I'm sorry for how things ended today. I feel like an idiot. Thanks for being patient with me.

Still, that didn’t quite capture everything he had to say.

No matter how much I like you, I can’t promise that this is ever going to get easier. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to move on. I don’t know if moving on is even possible.

Though he was starting to hope that it was, he wasn’t sure he felt ready to make such an admission to Allison. Even if he had been, it wasn’t the kind of sentiment to express through the cold, impersonal medium of a text.

He rose to get a drink of water, ignoring the phone on the other side of his desk.

That particular conversation would have to wait for another day.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #mother of the year #moty #thomas mendez #thomas mendez x mc

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morningsound15 · 4 years

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in the year of our lord 2019 i wrote a cameron/thirteen fic because i watched like 12 hours of house over the last couple days ANYWAY this is NOT my brand but if anyone’s interested in reading it it’s here and also below the cut

Remy’s dying. Allison’s always had a soft spot for beautiful people set to die tragically young.

They’ve been together eighteen months when Allison drops down onto one knee inside Thirteen’s apartment. Eighteen months is longer than any relationship Thirteen has ever had, which would seem promising, if it weren’t also a relationship with a woman who’s had at least 3 horrifically doomed relationships and 2 horrifically doomed marriages. Not exactly great odds, from where Thirteen is sitting.

“I knew about lesbians moving quick but I didn’t think it extended to bisexuals, too.”

Allison laughs at that, a little teary-eyed. Thirteen looks back at her, but she doesn’t smile. “What do you say?” Allison asks, slipping the box into Thirteen’s hands. She looks down at it, framed against her pale palms and her pale, naked thighs. Her feet dangle over the side of the bed and they’re both practically naked, only in a pair of long t-shirts. It’s eight in the morning. It’s way too early for this shit.

There’s a simple gold ring inside the black velvet box; perfectly subtle, not at all ostentatious — exactly the kind of thing Thirteen would have picked out for herself, if she ever had an aneurism and decided to go shopping for engagement rings for herself.

“You know I’m not dying for a couple years, right?” Thirteen blinks up, and Allison’s smile as slipped into something more like a frown. “If you wanted to swoop in and marry me, give me my last dying wish or last fleeting happiness or whatever, you could have waited a little longer. It’s a little morbid, this early on.”

Allison blinks at her. “You think that’s why I want to marry you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Remy,” she says, making Thirteen shift uncomfortably. She’s never loved being called by her name, and will only really tolerate Allison doing it, and only because she’d let Allison do just about anything, if she looked at her with those big soulful eyes and her trembling lower lip. “I love you,” Allison says, still on one knee, and Thirteen shifts away from her.

“Sure,” she says, “You love me. Of course you love me. You love everyone who’s hurt and broken, everything that’s dying. That’s your whole thing. It’s why you’re in love with House, it’s why you married your first husband. Chase is still kind of a mystery to me, but I’m sure there was something broken in him you wanted to fix. Hell, you probably would have married Kutner, too, if he hadn’t killed himself before anyone figured out he was going to.”

Allison looks like she’s been slapped. Thirteen feels remorseful, for a moment, before a tremor takes over her body again and she fumbles with the ring box, almost dropping it. She forces the guilt to the side. She’s dying. She doesn’t owe anyone niceness or her deference. She doesn’t owe Allison her body, or her vows, or a white wedding dress and a nice, simple ceremony. Not when she knows she’s got an expiration date.

She shoves the box back into Allison’s stunned hands and stands, her legs a little wobbly. Whether that’s the disease or the surprise proposal, it’s a little difficult to say. Irritability is another classic early symptom; Allison will know that, and won’t hold it against her.

That just makes Thirteen feel worse.

She walks, slow and stiff, away from the bedroom and towards the kitchen. Allison follows behind her, now quiet and subdued. Thirteen looks for a cane and, finding none, huffs and does her best without.

“Here, Remy—” Allison tries to take her arm, always helpful, and yesterday Thirteen might have enjoyed the attention, but this morning she hates it, feels sick from it. She yanks her arm away and stumbles into the counter. She gasps as the sharp marble connects with her hip. She’ll have a terrible bruise there, later, but she doesn’t care.

Allison is still looking at her, with that horrible tragic expression of hers, eyes dewy and expression helpless.

Thirteen feels sick, again, but worse.

She can see it like through a thick fog. Her, in a hospital bed, struggling to breathe and eat and shit and move. Allison, always with an optimistic smile, always holding her hand, always hiding her worry. That same face of helplessness as Thirteen slowly, painfully dies.

(Allison wouldn’t put her out of her misery. She isn’t the type. She’s kind, unbearably so, but she has a stupid moral code that Thirteen usually finds admirable, but which she anticipates would only cause trouble in the future. Kindness only goes so far; at some point that kindness becomes cruelty, and Thirteen is petrified of it.)

(What would be the point in marrying a doctor if she wouldn’t be willing to help you commit suicide, once you’re so far gone you can’t recognize yourself, care for yourself, walk or lift your head or talk to her, love her?)

“I’m not going to marry you just because you want me to,” Thirteen snaps. Allison blinks, the helpless expression disappearing.

“Okay,” she says, carefully measured. “We don’t have to get married. I’m sorry. I… thought you wanted to.” Allison takes a shaking breath. “I can move my stuff out in the morning. Just let me call my sister, I’m sure she’ll—”

A new kind of terror grips her, and Thirteen grabs her arm tight. “Stop,” she says, aware of her own hypocrisy. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

(Thirteen is cruel, in her own way. Cruel and selfish. It would be a kindness to let Allison leave. To let her think that she isn’t loved, that Thirteen doesn’t love her, that she doesn’t want her to stay with her through the bitter end, that she doesn’t want to die by her side. It would be a kindness to pretend that she isn’t horrified of being alone.)

(Thirteen has never pretended to be kind.)

“You aren’t?”

“I don’t want to marry you, Allison. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”

They’re standing in their shared kitchen barefoot and without any pants. Thirteen is leaning heavily against the counter (it’s always hardest for her early in the morning, before she’s had time to warm up, when her muscles are still tight and tired from sleep). Allison’s arm is in her hand and she doesn’t move away.

“I’m confused,” Allison says, fairly.

Thirteen sighs. “If I married you… if we got married in a couple months, or next year…” She pushes a hand through her hair, frustrated that she can’t explain properly. “I already have a death warrant. I’m not signing you on to be a part of that.”

“If you think I’m going to leave you just because—”

“No.” She sighs. “You’re not going to leave me. You’re never going to leave me. I know you won’t; you aren’t the type to leave your lover dying alone in her hospital bed.” Allison opens her mouth, as if to argue, but Thirteen doesn’t give her the chance, because what she’s saying is right and it’s fair. Allison would never let her die alone. She’s too kind for that. “I’m not letting you lose another spouse, Allison,” Thirteen says with finality. She sinks down into a chair, her fingers pinching at the bridge of her nose. “And I’m not letting you make me your wife out of pity.”

“It’s not pity. I’m in love with you. I want to—”

“Spend the rest of your life with me? Or just spend the rest of my life with me?” She doesn’t have an answer for that. “I have this disease, and it’s going to take me some day soon. I can’t let you… I won’t force you to be a part of that. You deserve some kind of freedom, from me. From this future. I’m stuck in it but you don’t have to be.”

“I won’t—”

“I know you won’t leave me today. You might not leave me tomorrow, either, or next month, or even next year. You might never leave me. You might sit by my side and watch me die for the next five to ten years, and you might be happy to do it. Or you might hate me for it.” She looks up, hates the wetness she can feel on her cheeks, hates the way she’s already crying, hates the way she can’t seem to stop. “Please, just promise me that if you start to hate me you’ll leave.”

Allison kneels on the floor at her feet. She rests her head on Thirteen’s knees, her chin sharp and digging. She kisses her knee caps, wraps her hands loosely around her ankles, her thumbs rubbing. It’s soothing. Thirteen can’t help but deflate a little. “We don’t have to get married,” Allison whispers, kissing her thighs this time. “Not if you don’t want to. But please don’t pretend that you’re doing this all for me. Like it’s some selfless, heroic thing. I’m not going to let you push me away just because you’re afraid that I can’t hack it. That I can’t handle you dying. I can hack it. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Thirteen sags. It’s a long, quiet while before she admits, with her head tilted up so she doesn’t have to see Allison’s expression, “If I marry you it’ll… feel like I’m doing it because I don’t think I’ll have another chance.”

“You don’t want to be with me?” Allison whispers, and Thirteen shakes her head, almost violently.

“Stop asking me that. That’s not what I’m saying. I do want to be with you. But I’ve never been with someone seriously. I haven’t… had the best of luck with relationships. I’ve never been with someone longer than a couple months, until I met you, and… marrying you…” She looks down. Allison looks up at her, expression open. Thirteen reaches out and takes her hands, squeezing tight. “I don’t want our relationship to feel like… I’m not just going to check off all the boxes and hit all the milestones just because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Just because I’m going to be dead in ten years. It would feel like I’m doing it just to do it. Not because of you, or me, or us. I love you. I’m happy with you. I don’t want that to change just because you feel like you’re running out of time.”

“I am running out of time.”

“And we can be in love, and we can spend the time that I have left together, without signing a piece of paper and exchanging rings.” Allison bites her lip. She looks close to tears. Thirteen can’t handle that, she can’t handle her tears. Not on top of everything. “Please, Allie,” she begs. “It’s too sad. Please.”

“Okay.” Allison stands and takes Thirteen’s face in her hands. Her thumbs brush lightly over her cheeks. “Okay.” When she ducks her head to kiss her her hair falls over their faces, a curtain protecting them against the outside world.

Remy hopes that, if they kiss for long enough, they can stay behind that curtain forever.

#fanfic #one shot #house m.d.#cameron x thirteen #i don't think that tag exists on this website lol #whatever have my feverish rantings

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lazy-queen · 5 years

Text

Andreil Ficlist

So, I’ve been away from Tumblr for a while but my love for the fandom is still strong. I’ve read some awesome fics from this pairing, and if you are looking for something too, you’re welcome to use this as guide.

Pairing: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard

Fandom: All For The Game (Nora Sakavic)

All of them are taken from AO3, and all of them are marked as completed. Enjoy!

Hold Each Other by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

He came along and showed me how to let go. - A series of stories about Andrew and Neil, with occasional Fox Family-centric feels. Current lineup: SMUT / Neil bringing up his torture / Neil protecting the Foxes / Neil using Nathaniel for good / AU: Riko, Canon divergence / Fixing Nicky's Kiss / Post-Canon AU / 5+1 bonding / Andrew & Nathaniel / Neil & Nicky bond / Magic!AU with tattoos / Post-Canon Piercing & Aaron bonding / Neil & minor PTSD / Neil & PTSD, Andreil / SMUT / Andrew and jealousy (kinda) / Baltimore AU & Kevin, Matt bonding / Neil trauma & Andreil / normal!AU Andreil in 3 parts / Raven!Neil AU in 8 parts / Andreil tea shop!AU / Andreil flower shop!AU / Andreil no Exy&college AU / Andreil no exy & college AU again lmao - UPDATE: This has turned into a series where each fic is a different AU!

Hic Sunt Draconis by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

Andrew is just trying to keep Kevin alive when an elf jumps into the fray, flashing daggers and blue eyes. He hires the Foxes to help him catch a demon from his past, but it starts to feel less like he's the client and more like he's the protection. Andrew hates how entranced he is by the scarred rogue, with magic on his skin and a tongue as silvered as the city's statues.

It's a good thing Andrew needs something to hold his interest. Neil is doing his best to meet the expectation, whether anyone asked for it or not.

It's Way Beyond Ice Cream by nekojita for Blurredminds

(part 1 of the Ice Cream AU)

Fic for the AFTG Summer Exchange - Neil's doing his best as a new freshman at PSU, helped by Renee as he navigates life as a normal 'person'. That includes classes and studying, and dealing with a certain stubborn employee at the local ice cream shop who seems to delight in messing up his order each time he goes there for some unknown reason....

Of course Allison and Renee will eventually explain what's going on to him (and help poor Andrew out).

Life Never Tasted So Good by nekojita

(part 2 of the Ice Cream AU)

It's time for Andrew's date with the cute freshman he's been tormenting for the past couple of weeks by messing with his ice cream order. Still not convinced that Neil really wants to go out with him (in part because of how Neil is cagey about anything to do with his past), Andrew prepares for the night out.

In other words, continuation of 'It's Way Beyond Ice Cream'.

Feels Like Wasted Youth by conniptionns, exybee

Neil’s current living situation is … complicated.

Between his roommates’ badass rager parties and his neighbors’ constant barging into his apartment, Neil’s sure he can handle anything junior year throws at him

That is, until someone leaves a passive-aggressive noise complaint on his door. Unfortunately for the second floor, Neil has skipped the passive and gone full aggressive.

Or the Neighbors AU featuring post-finals parties, ill-timed fire alarms, and helpful campus squirrels.

Forever Home by moonix for lolainslackss

Neil works at a movie theatre. Andrew is his favourite (and only) customer.

The Kids Are Alright (Now) by Marmeladeskies for BakaDoll

When they're two years old, Aaron and Andrew are adopted together- and it changes the course of their fate drastically. A story about scars, healing, dogs, and the little boy with the auburn curls who just moved in next door.

Foxglove Fridays by moonix

(Part 1 of Foxglove Court)

Every Friday, Neil comes into Andrew's shop to buy flowers.

Wishbone Wednesdays by moonix

(Part 2 of Foxglove Court)

Attraction is a slow creature for Neil. It sneaks up on him over time and winds him tighter and tighter in its coils until he’s smothered in it.

In which Andrew is a florist with magic hands, Neil is a tattoo artist with a tragic past, and everyone else is busy wooing Renee at the coffee shop.

If You Must by Tourmaline147

Neil's whole world went up in flames the minute he burned his mother's dead body. Mary prepared him for almost every possible scenario, except this one. Now he's stuck in the middle of California trying to restart his life.

Andrew's world had been dark long before Neil Josten came into town. He's been barely living the past few years but he was working on that.

Together these two strangers who only knew how to survive take on a new challenge: learning to live.

*** Featuring the other foxes, the bad guys, copious amounts of music, and, hopefully, happiness.

*** Basically a high school au with music. Enjoy.

TFC High School AU by Moonix

1. Take Shelter by moonix

After his mother's death Neil Josten just needs to keep his head down until graduation, then he's going to leave this town and identity behind like all the others and start over somewhere new. There's a small hitch in his plans though: his deal to protect Andrew from bullies in exchange for some quiet company.

2. Guns And Horses by moonix

A year after they run away together, Andrew and Neil finally find themselves in Columbia where they make a temporary home, get jobs, and meet Aaron.

3. Stop The World by moonix

Neil’s mother is dead. His father is in prison. If he’s lucky, things might just be working out. Except Neil isn’t usually lucky…

4. Up In Flames by moonix

Neil keeps his promise.

The Proposal by PalmettoFoxDen

Andrew said he was engaged to Neil to get Nicky to stop telling him he would die alone. Now, Nicky is expecting Andrew to bring Neil to Columbia to meet them all. Meanwhile, Neil just found out he's going to be deported. Even though they can't stand each other, Andrew makes Neil a deal. If Neil visits Andrew's family and convinces them that they're really engaged, Andrew will marry him and convince the investigator on Neil's case that they're in love. But if they're going to convince anyone, they'll need to learn a lot about each other.

A Thief and a Liar by ClockworkDragon, gluupor

After two years in prison for a crime he absolutely did commit, Andrew has his next heist all planned out. All he needs is a team of thieves as talented as he is.

An Ocean’s Eleven AU where the Foxes like to steal things, Riko owns several casinos, and Andrew has a score to settle.

Shake My Tomb by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

Nathaniel Wesninski takes his father's life and his father's title at the age of twelve. He kills a man at thirteen.

At eighteen, Kevin Day comes to him for help.

The Butcher of Baltimore is a name that used to mean something. Under Nathaniel's direction, the Wesninski Family has become an entirely different beast. They are the shadow thrown by the fire of the Moriyamas. Nathaniel isn't one to interfere with something bigger and more dangerous than him, but Kevin's position means something to him. Kevin, and the strange family he brings with him.

Maybe even Andrew, the one that challenges Nathaniel the most—and the one that Nathaniel finds himself drawn to. There's a lot at stake, though, and Nathaniel has nothing left to lose. Nothing but himself.

Pressure Points by puddlejumper99

(Part 1 of Out of the Ashes)

Neil enrolls at Columbia High School and remarkably fails at remaining invisible

False Equivalence by sunrise_and_death

Some part of her had known it would come back to Neil. He was the one who had cracked the twins the first time. Of anyone, he was the most likely to have a solution for this as well.

Although the events of the previous year resolved a lot of issues, Katelyn quickly discovers that not every problem has been addressed. As she attempts to map a future in which Aaron has both her and his family, she finds herself once again working with Neil Josten—to unexpected results.

Only You by wematch

In their second year a deal is made. Andrew wants to explore his boundaries and there’s really just one person he trusts around himself.

Set in a universe where everything is the same except that Andrew never kissed Neil on the rooftop that night. Instead, they just got closer and more comfortable around each other.

stars may collide by broship_addict, llheji

Moonlighting as Abram, member of the city's crime-fighting Foxes, Neil is doing a very bad job at staying under the radar. He's busy enough between his friends, patrol, and bickering with Andrew at work, but with the Ravens gang finally within reach and the reappearance of the Monster, he might have bitten more than he can chew.

(Or, how both Neil and Andrew accidentally fall in love with the same person twice. Lame.)

finger on the trigger/pedal to the floor by badacts, lightning_struck

Neil and Kevin, operatives for the highly secretive US body known only as ‘the Agency’, are very good at their jobs. Maybe Neil isn’t the patriot that Kevin is, but he can recognise the need for people like him, and, if nothing else, he is loyal. However, in the wake of an assassination attempt on the president foiled with the help of talented-but-civilian sniper Andrew Minyard, of the chipped shoulder and the uncanny knack for seeing right through people, Neil begins to question who it is giving him orders.

However, asking questions is a dangerous game. If Neil isn’t careful, he’ll end up dead - or worse than.

falling. by Idnis

The sun was bearing down on the park, on Andrew, on Neil Josten’s sketch, his auburn hair and blue, blue, blue eyes.

After a dozen tries, Andrew clicked through his photos. All the way to the first one. The one where Neil was staring straight at the camera.

Andrew’s breath caught.

flour petals, sugar stitches by ephemeralsky

“Thanks for coming with me,” she says, keeping her eyes trained in front of her.

“It is not like I had a choice in the matter,” Andrew says, blowing out a stream of smoke through his mouth.

Renee’s lips curl into a smile. “Maybe you’ll win our next sparring match and I’ll finally have to buy you ten cartons of Haagen-Dazs.”

“It cannot be worse than tagging along to a bridal boutique.”

“Maybe,” Renee allows, humor in her voice. “But what kind of man of honor would you be if you didn’t come with me to choose a dress?”

(or: Andrew is a baker, Renee is a bride-to-be, and Neil is a dressmaker)

Neil Josten the Sex God by manya

“Okay, look. My friends were kinda getting on my back about me being single, and I said that it was by choice and if I wanted to I could get anyone I wanted. And obviously that’s an extremely presumptuous thing to say, so they told me to prove it. So, uh, here I am. And here you are. And if you’d like to maybe help me out with this, that would be awesome.”

Andrew stares at Neil for a moment that seems to stretch on forever. “You want me to play along with you and pretend that you’re some kind of sex god?”

Crystal Clear by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

Your crystal is your heart and soul, manifested. You must keep it safe. Neil and Andrew don't have typical crystals. For one, they aren't whole. They're little pieces, broken by years of wrong. But Kevin's magic shop brings them together, and they figure maybe broken doesn't mean destroyed.

Paint Me The Color of You by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

Sound is supposed to be the language of love. Neil has never heard his soulmate. Never. Except he sees blue all the time, and then he meets Andrew and the entire world turns to color.

The Glass Mountain by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

The apples from the glass mountain are all anyone cares about. Anyone but Andrew, that is. Andrew is just trying to keep Kevin alive, despite Kevin's attempts to reach those apples again. The apples, and the captive prince at the top of the mountain.

Minyards' Magical Mischief by moonix for alexjosten

“No,” Aaron said. “Andrew, no.”

They locked eyes, and for a moment it was like they were eleven again, catching sight of each other for the first time across a crowded train platform.

“I confess,” Andrew said tonelessly, “to the murder of Drake Spear.”

(Or: an Auror and a murderer walk into an ice-cream parlour.)

If I Tried by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)

Neil is getting used to high school. He ends up getting used to a group of mismatched students, and he gets a little too used to one of them in particular. Maybe enough to go to prom.

library hours by lolainslackss for exybee

Andrew always sits across from the same guy in the library. The set-up suits him: they're both night owls, they're both relatively neat, and they both like the quiet. There's absolutely no need for them to get to know each other. This delicate balance shifts, however, when the guy sprains his ankle and Andrew finds himself breaking all his own rules and driving him to the emergency room.

A wintry college AU featuring all-nighters, homemade sushi, copious amounts of coffee, and many mixed-up feelings.

winter, formal by moonix for lolainslackss

Neil tries to get away from a boring conversation and accidentally ends up asking the most popular guy in school to dance with him at the winter formal.

faking it by flybbfly

After being photographed together, Neil and Andrew decide to roll with the rumors that they're dating.

Hot Thoughts by conniptionns

99: “Calm down. I look a lot worse than I am.”

Neil is hit by a car on the way to Dunkin Donuts, but he's totally okay

The Manny by mishaschmidt

Problem #1: Neil accidentally becomes the nanny of two adorable kids.

Problem #2: Neil somehow manages to fall in love with their father.

Fuck.

The Life of a Star by gluupor

Stars did not get sick and they did not age. If Neil's smart mouth didn't get him murdered (something which had a non-zero probability of occurring, according to Andrew) then he would continue on, immortal and unchanging.

It hadn't occurred to him that the same wasn't true for Andrew.

An epilogue for my Stardust AU.

None But You by gluupor

When Neil was eighteen he met and fell for Andrew Minyard. Their relationship seemed solid and unbreakable until Neil's mother found out about it and made him end it.

Six years later Neil still has a few regrets about breaking up with Andrew but he's completely over it. Really, he is. Although he does have to admit that it was easier to be over it before Andrew walked back into his life and started dating someone else.

A modern day adaptation of Jane Austen's Persuasion.

Tale as Old as Time by gluupor

In order to protect Aaron, Andrew ends up cursed into the form of a beast. The curse can only be broken if someone is able to see past his fearsome exterior and fall in love with the man he is inside.

Believing this to be impossible, he isolates himself in a run-down castle knowing he will be alone forever. After all, who could possibly be desperate enough to seek shelter with a beast?

Where You Lead by gluupor

When Neil promised Kayleigh that he'd look out for Kevin if anything ever happened to her he'd never expected to be a single teenage father hiding out in a small town. Luckily the town's residents seem keen to adopt them.

A Gilmore Girls AU where Kevin's a kid, Neil's his caffeine-addict father, and Andrew's a grumpy diner owner who loves them both.

Fake It 'Til You Make It by gluupor

Neil works three low paying, dead-end jobs and makes just enough money to afford a room to sleep in and to keep himself from starving. He has no prospects, no hope, no future. That all changes when a chance encounter results in a job offer that he can't ignore.

The job? Pretending to be professional exy player Andrew Minyard's boyfriend.

Andrew Versus the Truth by gluupor

Andrew has an unexceptional life working at an IT help desk in Southern California and living with his cousin. Then he gets an unexpected message on his birthday from his estranged twin brother and very strange things start happening. His computer catches fire, two attractive guys seem interested in him, and he keeps imagining that he knows classified CIA intelligence.

These things couldn't possibly be connected... could they?

Everything is Fine! by gluupor

"Hello," Dan said. "I'm sorry to tell you that you're all dead. This is the Afterlife; your placement here is dependent on your actions during your lifetime. Now, I have some exciting news for you-"

Nathaniel snorted loudly. "You don't expect any of us to actually believe that we made it into the Good Place, do you?"

"Why not?" asked Dan.

He jerked his thumb in Andrew's direction. "Well, before you came in, Exhibit A over here had just finished telling us that he died when he crashed a car on purpose in order to kill someone. What's the cutoff for how many murders committed before someone doesn't qualify for the Good Place anymore? Is it more than zero?"

"Speak for yourselves," cut in Kevin. "I think I deserve to be in the Good Place. I have a large number of devoted fans and am very talented."

Nathaniel was quiet for a beat, before pointing at Kevin. "Exhibit B."

Don't Break the Seal by gluupor

Living with the Spears and feeling desperate and alone, Andrew meets and befriends a seal who can turn into a boy.

In later years he comes to believe that the magical boy he met was just a hallucination. It is therefore very surprising when he meets him again after hitting him in the stomach with an exy racquet in a tiny town in Nowhere, Arizona.

Better Late than Never by gluupor

Andrew should have known not to ally himself with a lying runaway, he really should have known not to trust him, and he definitely should have known not to fall for him.

It's the Thought that Counts by gluupor

Andrew and Neil's relationship has many facets that are confusing to outsiders. The strangest may be their habit of giving each other the contents of their pockets and calling it a gift.

Too Gay to Function by gluupor

After school, Neil started to make the trek back to his uncle’s house when a shiny, black beast of a car screeched to a halt in front of him. The driver’s side window rolled down. “Get in, loser,” said Andrew. “We’re going shopping.”

Fast Boys and Hot Cars by gluupor

Minyard had gotten out of his car and was stalking towards Neil like a predator - a panther, maybe, or some other big cat. “Double or nothing,” he said, sounding unaffected and bored by the proceedings despite the fact that he’d just lost a race for the first time in years.

An Overdeveloped Sense of Vengeance by gluupor

“No one could be following us yet?” Kevin asked suddenly. “No one,” Riko said impatiently. “That would be absolutely inconceivable.” There was a pause. “Out of curiosity, why are you bothering me with such a stupid question?” “Oh, no reason,” answered Kevin. “It’s just that I looked back and someone is there.”

It's a Cruel World, Mr. J by gluupor

“And you? You think I’m a monster?” asked Andrew. “Maybe,” said Neil. “But I don’t think that monsters are born. They’re made.”

A Truth Universally Acknowledged by gluupor

“Palmetto Court has been let at last!” said Mr. Hemmick in raptures. “Mrs. Wymack reports that a single man of good fortune has taken Palmetto for a twelvemonth at least! What marvellous news for my dear cousins!”

It's Called a Hustle, Sweetheart by gluupor

“We need to find out who owns this license plate, but I don't have access to the police database yet," said Kevin. "Relax," said Neil. "I know a guy at the DMV."

bloom (just for you) by godotco

For lack of any better explanation for what was happening, Neil was in uncontrollable full bloom.

- A little slice of witch au turned flower shop au

#all for the game #AFTG #Andreil #Andrew Minyard #Neil Josten #Foxhole Court #fanfic #fic list #andreil fanfic

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years

Text

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 22

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

Stiles might not have much experience at being the center of attention at school, but Jackson and Lydia certainly do. They’re waiting in the parking lot, leaning against Jackson’s silver Porsche—if it was scratched on Friday night by Peter’s journey through the back roads of the Preserve, the damage has already been buffed and polished out—looking ridiculously attractive. Both of them.

“Hurry up, Stilinski,” Jackson says when Stiles pulls in nearby.

Jesus. What a dick. Except Stiles gets the feeling that it’s all pretty much an act now—it’s a fucking good act, he’ll give Jackson that. He’s totally committed to the role, for sure—so he slings his backpack over his shoulder and picks up his pace as he reaches them.

They both look like they’ve stepped off the front page of a glossy fashion magazine, whereas Stiles is pretty sure he has peanut butter on his shirt.

But they make room in between them like he belongs there, and stride toward the school like they expect there are cameras watching.

Are there classes or something? On how to be this attractive and intimidating? Weekly sessions in a secret undisclosed location, with a teaching staff made up of supermodels and disaffected beautiful people? Because Beacon Hills seems to have a lot of that going around, but Stiles never got sent the prospectus.

The crowds part for Jackson and Lydia like they’re celebrities. It’s weird. Everyone is looking and whispering, probably wondering if Stiles’s kidnapping makes him suddenly cool enough to be elevated into Lydia and Jackson’s social sphere, but nobody dares approach. It’s like Lydia and Jackson project a force field that the regular kids can’t penetrate. And Stiles would know. He was on the other side of it as recently as Friday.

They escort Stiles to his locker, and then to the door of his homeroom.

“You’re eating lunch with us today,” Jackson tells him with a haughty expression.

Stiles sees right past it.

“Okay,” he says. “And Jackson?”

Jackson cocks an eyebrow at him.

Lydia takes her compact out of her purse and inspects her perfectly applied lipstick.

“What you guys did the other night, both of you, was just…” He swallows. “But you got Stella away from her, Jackson, and like, I owe you. I owe you everything.”

Jackson flashes him a cocky smirk. “Whatever.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

Jackson lowers his voice. “Is she okay?”

Because heaven forbid anyone overhear him and realize he has a heart.

Lydia snaps her compact closed and slips it back inside her purse.

“Fuck you,” Stiles says warmly. “You pretend to be this total douche, I see through you now, you asshole.” He looks at Lydia. “I used to wonder what you saw in him, but I get it now. I get it.”

“Are you saying he’s your type?” she asks.

Jackson snorts. “I’m everyone’s type.”

He’s such an asshole.

Stiles loves him.

***

In Chemistry, Harris is still a total dick to Stiles, so some things never change.

In English, Allison looks totally shell-shocked and when she tries to look for a pen in her bag, she spills the contents all over the floor and Scott scrambles to help her pick them up.

Stiles wonders if she knows.

***

“She doesn’t know,” Lydia says at lunch, stabbing her salad delicately with a fork. “I talked to her yesterday. She’s buying the whole story about her aunt being a domestic terrorist.” She slips a piece of lettuce into her mouth and chews for a moment. “Scott should really tell her.”

Stiles laughs weakly. “Scott? Why would—”

“Don’t play dumb, Stilinski.” Jackson rolls his eyes. “Derek told us everything when we were burying his uncle.”

Right. Grave digging duty. It probably brings people together and stuff. Nothing like a bond formed over a shallow grave.

“Also, nobody gets that suddenly good at lacrosse,” Jackson mutters, like he’s still personally affronted by that most of all. “Not when they were so freaking lame to start with.”

They’re sitting alone at the popular table. Scott keeps casting Stiles worried looks from where he’s sitting with Allison, but as far as Stiles is concerned he has werewolf shit to discuss with Jackson and Lydia, and if Allison’s not in the loop then it’s not their place to bring her in. That’s on Scott. Also, her crazy hunter aunt tried to kill him and his family on Friday night, and he’s still processing that. He really doesn’t have the capacity to deal with her inevitable shock at any werewolf reveal in addition to that.

“Anyway, she doesn’t know,” Lydia says. “And Mr. Argent says that his father is coming to town for Kate’s funeral, and he’s apparently just as crazy as Kate was, which is the reason Allison’s parents don’t want her to know anything about hunters, and werewolves, or anything that could drastically lower her life expectancy.”

Wow. Apparently while Stiles was reading Batman and watching TV over the weekend, Lydia was on a fact-finding mission at the Argents’ house. Also, that explains Dad’s phone call from Chris Argent last night.

Lydia catches his look and shrugs. “You’re not the only one who likes to get the complete picture.”

Jackson helps himself to one of Stiles’s tator tots. “How’s Derek?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says. “I mean, he just lost his last family member. How do you think?”

Jackson and Lydia exchange a look.

“What?” Stiles asks. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Lydia says airily. “So is Derek staying with you?”

“Yeah.” Stiles feels like he’s been sidelined somehow.

“Good.” Lydia clasps her hands together. “We’ll come and visit him after school.”

“Wait, what?” A part of Stiles’s brain snags on the idea of Lydia Martin in his house, and he shakes his head to untangle himself. “Why?”

“Because Gerard Argent, Allison’s grandfather, is very likely going to have Derek in his sights when he comes to town,” Lydia says, explaining it like he’s slow. “And an Alpha needs betas to be strong. At least two, preferably more.”

Stiles squints at her. “How do you know all this in two days?”

Jackson snorts. “Guess you’re not the smartest person in the room for once, Stilinski. Now you know how the rest of us feel all the time.”

Lydia flashes Jackson a warm smile, and turns back to Stiles. “I told you, I did my research.”

“So what?” Stiles asks. “You’re still chasing the bite, Jackson?”

Jackson reaches for an apple and takes a bite. “So what if I am?”

“Even after the other night? You saw what hunters do.”

“This time I’m not chasing it,” Jackson says. “But I’m volunteering. An Alpha needs a pack.”

Stiles fights down the sudden rush of jealousy that wants to tell Jackson that the Stilinskis make a fine pack, thanks very much. Because it’s not exactly true, is it? Derek has the Stilinskis, and they could be a family for him—last night Derek folded laundry and sorted Dad’s socks, and it doesn’t get more family than that—but maybe Jackson’s right. Because Derek is an Alpha now. Maybe an Alpha needs more than a family. Stiles isn’t a werewolf. He can’t know the difference between family and pack, but he should know better than to assume there is none. Maybe an Alpha does need a pack, and there must be times where the meanings of the words overlap—he thinks of Derek’s story about Peter kidnapping the Hale kids for a Disneyland trip—but it’s possible they’re not an exact synonym.

And maybe Jackson isn’t being selfish. Maybe he’s not looking at what the bite can give him, but at what he can give Derek instead.

Stiles remembers in third grade when Jackson had a meltdown in class over one of those dumb family tree projects, and that’s how everyone found out he was adopted. Maybe, for Jackson, family was never quite what he needed to be. Maybe he thinks pack will give him something that he still feels he’s missing.

“Okay,” he says. “I mean, there’s no harm in offering, is there? If you know the risks.”

“I do.” Jackson crunches down on his apple.

Stiles glances at Lydia. “You said betas? Are you volunteering as well?”

Lydia huffs. “God, no. Trust me, that’s not even an option.”

“Because Scott’s no fan of Derek’s,” Stiles says. “Like, at all.”

“We know,” Jackson says, and rolls his eyes. “McCall is a dick.”

Stiles bristles out of habit. “Takes one to know one.”

Lydia elbows Jackson before he can retaliate. “We’re working on it, Stiles.”

Working on it? What does that even mean? Does she have an alphabetized list of potential beta candidates lined up or something? Will they have to submit résumés? Will there be interviews?

He’s just about to open his mouth to ask when he becomes aware of someone approaching in his periphery. He turns his head to see Allison standing by the table, her eyes red-rimmed and her hands clenched at her sides.

“Stiles?” she asks in a fragile voice.

“Oh. Um, hey, Allison.”

He’s aware that the entire cafeteria has stopped to watch this exchange, and wonders if they’re expecting fireworks.

Allison draws in an audibly shaky breath. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for what happened to you, and your father and Stella. And I understand if you don’t ever want to talk to me again, but—”

“Oh, hey!” Stiles pushes his chair back so quickly that he almost overbalances, and leaps to his feet. “No, Allison. I mean, she was your aunt, but you didn’t know. I’m not going to hold it against you just because she was, well, crazy pants.”

Allison’s brow creases.

Okay, so that wasn’t the best way to phrase things. Stiles tries to regroup. “Anyway, if I was going to judge you on your relatives, okay your aunt tried to kill us, but your dad came through, so that totally evens things out, right? Math for the win!”

Lydia groans, and Jackson winces, but Allison only tilts her head and stares at Stiles blankly for a moment.

“Oh god,” Stiles says. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Allison blinks, and tears brim in her eyes, but at the same time her mouth twitches and a small, strangled noise escapes her. It might even be a laugh? “So we’re good, you and me?”

“Totally,” Stiles promises.

She shows him a tentative smile. “Thank you, Stiles.”

And then she darts forward and hugs him quickly before turning away and going back to sit with Scott.

No fireworks in the cafeteria today.

Stiles sits back down, shooting an accusatory look at Jackson when he sees his diminished amount of tater tots.

Jackson smirks. “Hey, I’m carb loading for lacrosse. What’s your excuse?”

“My excuse is I paid for those!”

Jackson shrugs.

“Asshole,” Stiles mutters.

Jackson’s smirk grows.

Lydia rolls her eyes, but she at least shoves her salad in Stiles’s direction so he doesn’t starve to death.

#sterek #Stella and the Wolf #my fics #discontentedwinter

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aelysalthea · 5 years

Text

From the Bleachers - Chapter 2

The crowd went wild. The cheers and screams, the hollers and shouts of excitement, were deafening. Even through the television, Tyler was all but blown away by the sheer force of it.

That wasn't why he stared open-mouthed at the screen, though.

"Holy shit," Jen muttered at his side.

On the television, the two teams walked slowly towards one another. Hands were shaken, heads nodded, and rackets finally fully lowered to signify the proper end of the match. Orange and white, tan and black.

"Is that really…?" Toni said before trailing off, for once in his life rendered speechless.

The commentators spoke, words glowing with praise and enthusiasm. Tyler heard them, listened to their commendations, but none of it quite registered. His gaze was focused on the corner of the screen that still showed the court, the players as they filed off, and he mentally checked them off in his head.

Danielle Wilds, the captain and dealer alongside Allison Reynolds. Matthew Boyd, Aaron Minyard, and Nicholas Hemmick, the three backliners. Renee Walker and Andrew Minyard as the goalkeepers, and Kevin Day, fucking Kevin Day, alongside Seth Gordon as the strikers.

And Neil. Neil Josten, the rookie striker, who was –

"Fuck, he's really good."

The words finally drew Tyler's gaze away from the screen towards the voice who had spoken. Julian, one of the new Dingos strikers, was staring as open-mouthed and incredulously at the screen. He, like the other new recruits, turned that incredulity onto Tyler and the rest of his original team with expectancy that demanded explanation.

Tyler didn't have an explanation. Not for what he'd just seen.

Neil had been good when Tyler had played with him. A little reserved, a quiet player just like he was with everything at school, but definitely good and unabashedly committed to the game. He'd been improving too, or he had been from what Tyler could see. He'd never paid much attention to him until Hernandez had decided to put him on the court as a starting striker.

But even then, Tyler hadn't really noticed. He hadn't properly seen. He definitely hadn't seen the kind of playing that he'd just witnessed on the television of Jen's living room that they'd appropriated for the sole purpose of watching the opening game as a team. Pizza and pizza boxes lay scattered and abandoned around the room, and Tyler didn't think anyone had said a word or taken a bite since at least half time. Watching every pass and every goal had consumed the attention of everyone in the room, and the attentive silence was broken only by groans, shouts of protest, and murmurs of admiration.

The Millport Dingos had become nothing if not ardent fans of the Palmetto State Foxes since the beginning of term. How could they not be when one of their own was a primary player? Neil might have been a student at their school for only a year, but he'd still played on their team. He was still one of theirs.

Tyler had been as enthusiastic as the rest of his teammates in learning everything about the Foxes he could. Alongside his rapidly growing worship of the team, a team that was as violent and broken as they were small, he'd grown to learn exponentially more of each of its players. From Andrew Minyard's psychotic tendencies to Allison Reynolds' wealthy family ties, he'd painted a picture of each Fox in the weeks since he'd discovered Neil had joined their line.

As such, it became quickly apparent that Tyler knew next to nothing about Neil. No one on the team did or had. He had never seen Neil's parents, never exchanged more than a word or two with him, and didn't know the first thing about him other than that he managed well enough at school not to fail, was a bit of a loner, but was nonetheless the subject of more than a few crushes of the girls in Tyler's year. That was it.

But the Foxes were specifically chosen. Tyler had heard rumours of that fact, but they'd been confirmed with barely more than a single shovelful of digging on the internet. David Wymack recruited from broken families and shattered pasts. Hernandez hadn't spoken a word of any of Neil's troubled history and Tyler hadn't expected him to, but… really? Neil had it bad enough that he was eligible to be a Fox? Tyler almost didn't want to know what bumped him up to such standards.

What he would like to know, however, was how in the hell Neil had gotten that good.

"He's gotten, like, heaps better," Toni said, still staring at the television screen. "Like, heaps."

"He was always good," Jen said.

"But not that good," Noah said.

"What's he been doing, practicing twenty-four seven for the past few months?" Toni asked, finally turning towards the rest of the team.

Tyler could only shrug, though he couldn't help but agree. The game he'd just witnessed had been insanely impressive. Watching college-level exy was one thing, but Class I was entirely another. The Breckenridge Jackals were fierce, their ranks impressive, but the Foxes had met them where they were rather than being bulldozed. Kevin Day was practically a god on the court, even playing right-handed, Andrew Minyard was a demon in the goals, and Renee Walker only slightly less impressive because she was implicitly compared to him, and Matthew Boyd was a barrelling force like a single-man army in defence.

And Neil. Neil was really good.

Not as good as Gordon, maybe. Definitely not as good as Day, but few people were. And yet even having paid him barely any notice beyond that of a fellow teammate, Tyler knew Neil had improved out of sight. More than that –

"He plays totally differently," he said, turning back to the screen as it began playbacks of the match. "I swear, he's really different."

"Better," Toni said.

"Yeah, but it's more than that." Tyler gestured to the screen as it ran through a playback that showed a brilliant pass between Neil and Day. It seemed to be following through with a series of Neil's highlights, for a moment later the screen displayed a purely exceptional goal that Tyler knew the Neil he'd played with wouldn't have been capable of. "He's way more aggressive then he was. Right?"

A glance at his teammates showed incomprehension in some and tentative agreement in others. Only Noah, perhaps the one person in the team as dedicated to watching professional exy as Tyler was, nodded in fervent agreement.

"Definitely," he said. "He's like a different player."

"I don't know," Jen said slowly. "I always got the impression he was holding back a bit."

Tyler turned a frown towards her. "What?"

She shrugged, reaching for her abandoned plate of pizza. "You might not have seen it quite so much, being a striker and up there with him, but at the other end of the court I got to watch him more. He always seemed to be holding himself back, I reckon."

Tyler exchanged a glance with Noah, who appeared just as surprised as Tyler felt. "Really?" Tyler asked.

Jen shrugged again. "I mean, I'm surprised, for sure. But less surprised than if, say, Toni appeared after a couple of months playing on a college court like he was meant to be there."

Toni didn't even protest to the truth of her words, and Tyler couldn't blame him. He certainly wouldn't have claimed himself capable of improving to such standards.

Turning to the television, Tyler tuned back into the commentators as they proceeded in their rundown of the match. His eyes were glued to the screen, snapping into focus whenever a Fox appeared in a re-run, but his mind was elsewhere. Obsessing, some might say – some like his younger brother who had bullied him off the computer at home numerous times in the past weeks with complaints that he was "using up all the internet when you geek out like that". Tyler would admit that yes, he was a little obsessed. Not even purely with the Foxes but with the boy named Neil who he hadn't bothered to take the time to know. It was impossible not to be a little fixated when such a Cinderella story took place in their small town. Even those who weren't fans of exy knew a vague overview of the miracle that had transpired.

Neil was a mystery. A quiet yet surprisingly aggressive mystery who only showed that aggression on the court. Tyler had always followed professional exy like a blind man gazing up at the sun for the first time, but this year was different. With a sincerely vested interest, he almost couldn't look away.

As it turned out, Neil wasn't quite so quiet.

***

"Did you see it, Coach?" Toni called across the court as soon as Hernandez showed up for their training on Monday afternoon.

Tyler paused in his stretching, slowly straightening as Hernandez planted himself in their midst. "Do I even have to ask what you're talking about anymore?"

Toni grinned, and he wasn't the only one. Tyler had been smiling just as widely for almost the entirety of the weekend. It was impossible not to after watching the Foxes' match the previous Friday. More importantly, however, it was damn-near impossible to feel anything but hysterically excited after watching re-runs of the Kathy Ferdinand show from Saturday morning.

Tyler had missed it. Nothing and no one could wake him up before ten o'clock on a Saturday, so even the chronic early-riser Jen hadn't bothered. He'd received a frantic phone call before mid-morning, however, and almost couldn't make out her words in their frenzy of enthusiastic gushing. When he'd been able to decipher it, he couldn't hasten to his computer fast enough.

"The match was fucking incredible," Jen said. "I've watched it about a dozen times."

"Yeah, but the interview?" Toni spun towards her and thumped a fist into his chest atop his heard as though he was swearing allegiance. "I've never seen something so beautiful in all my life. I've seen that at least a dozen times."

"It was beautiful," Trish, their new dealer, said with eyes shining. For someone usually so quietly spoken, she was nothing short of gushing herself whenever it came to the Foxes. "I could quote lines from it."

"Oh, you and me both," Toni said, spinning towards her instead. "'I have a bit of an attitude problem', wasn't it?"

"And that 'congratulations and big deal'?" Trish's eyes shone. "I would get as a tattoo if I was old enough.

"Oh, me too. Who knew Neil had a spine?"

"I definitely didn't see that coming," Noah said, shaking his head with the same incredulity he'd worn since Tyler had bumped into him that morning. "I have to say, though, I'm impressed."

"Me too!" Trish all but squealed.

"Yeah, but that's because you have a not-so-secret crush on Neil," Toni said with a wink.

Trish's cheeks immediately flushed crimson. "Shut up."

"Notice she doesn't deny it."

"I said shut up!"

"Leave her alone, Toni," Jen said. "Everyone knows you're practically panting after Allison."

"Well, she's hot. Can you blame me? And she plays like a badass."

"True, true."

"I admire Neil's playing, too," Trish said. "It's not just – like, I don't just –"

"Sure, try and make excuses, Trish," Toni said with another wink. Trish squawked and dove into self-defence, flapping excuses once more, and Tyler couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't the only one.

"You guys are obsessed," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. Of the Dingos, he was about the only one who wasn't enthusiastically supportive of everything Fox-related.

Tyler noticed Hernandez nodding his agreement, though he appeared amused more than exasperated. "I take it you're referring to the Kathy Ferdinand show?" he said.

"It really was a thing of beauty, Coach," Tyler said, sidling up to him. "I honestly would never have picked it of Neil."

"You and me both," Hernandez said. "Even after seeing him turn down Coach Wymack, I wouldn't have picked –"

"What?" Tyler blinked, staggering half a step backwards. He barely heard the continued clamour of Trish chasing Toni across the court. "He did what?"

Hernandez nodded, shooting him a smile that was almost a smirk. "Maybe I should have guessed he was hiding a bit of zest after that."

"Yeah, I think so," Tyler murmured, then shook himself out of his own stupor. "Did you see it, though? The interview?"

"I saw it," Hernandez said.

"He practically called Riko a selfish bastard right to his face and said that the Ravens only qualified because of their coach."

"Yeah, I saw."

"Called him scared, too. He said Riko would choke on his own words at the end of the season."

Hernandez cocked his head. "I think you're almost as much of a fan of Neil as Trish is?"

Tyler felt his cheeks flush. "A different kind of fan, I think," he muttered, glancing back at the scattering of his team as they continued to fling excitement and appreciative quotations at one another. "I guess I'm just kind of surprised."

"Still?"

"I mean, it's really cool. Neil is kind of…" Tyler scuffed the side of his head awkwardly, cursing the heat that rose even hotter in his cheeks. "He's really cool, you know?"

Hernandez chuckled. "Are you a bit star-struck, maybe, Tyler?"

"Star –?"

Hernandez laughed again. He dropped a hand onto Tyler's shoulder. "You would have to be one of the most enthusiastic kids I've ever had on my team. It's no surprise you'd idolise someone who's both on the same level as you and infinitely out of reach."

Tyler hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, but he didn't shrug Hernandez's hand off. "Yeah, well… yeah. Maybe."

"Just be aware that you don't see everything that goes on behind closed doors."

Glancing up at Hernandez, Tyler watched as his smile faded a little. "Coach?"

Hernandez met his gaze but only shook his head in reply. With another pat on Tyler's shoulder, he stepped forwards and clapped his hands for attention. "Alright, everyone! It's all very exciting, I know –"

"But did you see it, Coach?" Toni immediately interrupted, skidding to a stop a dozen steps away. Trish all but crashed into him.

"Yes, it's very exciting." Hernandez shot Toni a glance with raised eyebrows and Toni subsided with a grin, his arm slunging over Trish's shoulders as though she hadn't just been chasing him down seconds before. "But unless I'm mistaken, we have practice booked for…" He glanced down at his watch. "Now, in fact. Shall we?"

"I have to leave early, Coach," Kurt said, raising a lazy hand.

"Again?" Noah shot him a scowl. "Do you even want to be here?"

"Honestly?"

"Shut up, Kurt."

Hernandez clapped his hands together. "That's enough, if you please. Can we get a move on? Jen, can you grab the rackets?"

"Yes, Coach," she said, immediately trotting for the storage closet.

"The rest of you, I want two laps of the court. You too, Kurt."

"But I'm a goalie," Kurt complained.

"Yes, but you're still a part of the team."

Kurt groaned, but he fell into step with the rest of them as they began a steady jog. Almost before they were out of Hernandez's hearing, Trish and Toni were back at it, though this time their fight was forgotten and replaced with a resurgence of excitement. It grew more and more animated with every step until Tyler found himself unable to resist picking up his pace to fall into step alongside them.

"Riko is such a dick, though," Trish was saying. "He was all polite, but you can tell."

"He's not," Toni rebuffed. "Totally not. You're just saying that 'cause Neil says it."

"Neil didn't say it, and I am not."

"Riko's a really good player," Tyler said, adding his two cents.

Trish snapped her attention towards him. Her huff likely had nothing to do with the moderate pace of their jogging. "He's not as good as Kevin, I reckon. Even if he is number one. And Neil will be better than him some day, too."

"Oi, Riko's an awesome player."

"Yeah, but Neil's already gotten so much better in such a short time, and Riko's a dick."

"That doesn't really have anything to do with his playing."

"I know, but he's still a dick."

"I can't wait to see the Foxes play the Ravens."

"Oh my god, I know, right?"

Tyler lost himself in the words of his teammates, an exchange that rapidly expanded to include the rest of their team trailing behind them, too. Whether he disagreed or not with what Trish, Toni, or any of the rest of them said didn't really matter, but Herandez's words? Tyler hadn't thought of himself as star struck, but…

Maybe he was. Maybe just a little bit.

***

A/N: thanks again for reading! If you’d like to comment or follow the story, check out my AO3 page!

#fanfic #aftg #the Foxhole court #POV Third Party #Millport Dingos #multiple chapters #Neil Josten #fanboys & fangirls #canon-era

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agentwashxcaroliona-blog · 7 years

Text

Another nightmare

Summary:

Carolina wakes up from another nightmare and meets Washington for a drink.

Mentions characters deaths.

Work Text:

Carolina’s eye snapped open. Her breath was fast and uneven, her body was hot and sweat rolled down her arms. She was gripping the bed covers tight between her fingers as she lay in the clammy bed. Her eyes scanned the plain room, her breathing slowly calming down.

Another nightmare.

Lina sighed and sat up, releasing her grip on the bed sheets. She then swung her legs around to the side of the bed but she didn’t seem to move afterwards. She was so drained. She could fight armies of enemies - anyone who who blocked her path but she couldn’t fight away the dreams that taunted her. The dreams weren’t always the same but they all started off with Maine throwing her off that cliff.

Falling from that cliff was the first time that Carolina thought she might actually die. From that moment on, the dream takes multiple twists and turns; showing Tex laughing at her failures, North and South in peril, CT’s dead face, Wash’s mind breaking due to his AI… but the what Carolina hate’s the most about her dreams is when the flash back of the fight that she and York had comes up. Although she knew exactly what had happened during that time and while she was awake, she was able to accurately account both their actions without any hesitation or lie, her dream takes it to a whole new level. Carolina can see the pain that York goes through when she gives him back his lighter, like she can see his heart breaking even under his helmet. She witnesses York’s death over and over again, and the deaths are never the same but Lina can’t do anything. She’s still falling from that cliff, watching all these terrible movies as she falls endlessly while the voice’s from her AI’s continuously chant ‘Allison.’

“Fuck… I wish I still had that lighter,” Carolina muttered under her breath, her throat feeling a bit raw and husky from the nightmare. She rolled her head around, her joints in her neck clicking. “These nightmares are weighing me down. How am I meant to do my mission and keep everyone safe at the same time? It’s not like I can talk to anyone about it. Epsilon doesn’t remember much of anything and Wash has it a lot worse than me…” Washington. Carolina’s eyes flicked to the door while her train of thought was directed on him. He has gone through hell and back and his AI really messed his head-up. She wondered if he had nightmares to. Maybe.

The redhead stood up, straightening out her oversized “I LOVE NY” shirt and pulled on a pair of slacks that lay sprawled on the floor. She slammed the hand lock and the door raised. She plodded towards the kitchen, her bare feet making little noise as she made her way to her destination. Once she arrived, she opened the kitchen door and instead of being met by what she had hoped and expected, she saw Wash sitting at the table, his head in one hand and his other hand holding an empty shot glass. Wash groaned when he heard the door open but he didn’t look up to see who it was. Lina cocked her head to one side before deciding the join him. She walked in, grabbed the bottle of whiskey that sat on the counter top and placed it on the table. She scraped back one of the shitty chairs that they had salvaged and plopped down on one. She didn’t speak, she just took the glass from Wash’s hand, poured herself and drink and threw it back into her throat. The liquid burned but it was satisfying. She could see herself downing in this. She poured another shot and then another and then another until Wash finally lifted his head. Wash looked like complete and utter crap. He had dark purple bags under his eyes and his face seemed somewhat sunken. Carolina didn’t really see much of Wash’s face without his helmet. It actually used to be a joke around Project Freelancer but now she wondered if he kept it on so know one would see how defeated he looked.

“You look like shit,” Wash spoke up, grabbing the bottle away from Lina and taking a swig.

“You don’t look much better,” She replied, copying Wash’s motions and taking the bottle back for herself. “What you doing up?” She asked in-between mouthfuls. Wash didn’t reply, instead he looked at her lifelessly, his eyes not making direct contact. With a loud concerned sigh, the redhead poured the blond a drink into the shot glass and pushed it over. He took it, made a grateful grunt and brought the glass to his lips and took a sip.

They sat together in silence, becoming more intoxicated as the minutes ticked by. Soon enough, Carolina had pulled her out of its normal pony tail and let it down freely. Wash had scooted his chair closer to Lina’s and his hand was locked around the neck of the bottle. “Carolina,” Wash suddenly spoke up, his tone musical, “Sweet Carolinaaa,”

“I think it’s Caroline,”

“Oh…” Wash pouted a little and pushed himself back in the chair. “Why are you down here anyway?” He asked finally. Carolina chewed the inside of her mouth for a moment. The sober part of her told her not to share her problems with someone who probably couldn’t handle his own but that voice was too muffled to take notice of.

“Just nightmares y’know?” She replied, trying to make it vague as possible. She motioned for Wash to pour another drink.

“Same,” he sighed heavily, pouring one out. “I hoped that one day they would stop but instead they keep getting worse. All the crap with Epsilon, how he screwed my mind up so bad… he fucking committed suicide. I was so fucked after that… I watched everyone die Lina, I watched you die too. Everyone died on me, York and North left me. They were my only friends and their dead. What’s worse? I had to recover their bodies. And then I found out all the bullshit that the Freelancer’s were? Even the fucking director killed himself.” Wash was spouting out his hatred, venom in his voice.

“And now its just me and you and a bunch of fucking idiots who didn’t know that they were just test subjects.” Carolina listened intently has Washington let his emotions out. She could see his knuckles turn white from how hard they were gripped around the bottle. He looked so fragile. “I know you went through shit and now we’re together but for some reason, I can’t help but hate you,” He turned his attention to Carolina now. “You were always number one, you didn’t fuck up all the time out on the field. You were a bitch to me and everyone and you survived death.” Wash laughed then.

Carolina didn’t reply. She didn’t know how to.

“So what are your dreams?” He asked.

“Well, similar stuff. Mostly about York,” She replied. Unlike Wash, she didn’t feel like completely opening up. “And I’m sorry that you hate me…” She trailed off. She knew that she was a heartless bitch. That all she cared about was herself and no one else. Well, that was how she portrayed herself anyway. “I blame myself for York’s death. I should have been there, I shouldn’t have left him… I shouldn’t have left you either,”

Wash grunted. “Yeah well, Maine didn’t give you much choice really.”

“True,” Carolina laughed a little. “Wash,”

“Hm?”

“I really did love York. As much as a bitch I was -”

“I know you do,” He mumbled, his eyes moving from her face to the shirt she wore. “To bad you didn’t show it to him while he was alive,” Carolina could feel the bite in his words as he spoke them. Lina’s heart began to sink, her stomach churning as flashbacks flooded her mind's eye. She concentrated all of her attention onto Wash. The way he sat, his back hunched, his elbows leaning against the circular table. His eyes were heavy lidded and his hair was tussled in such a way that made him look somewhat menacing, like someone who you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley way. His scars were visible and the freckles that decorated his pale skin looked dark in the dim lighting of the room.

“You might not know it Wash, but I actually do have feeling’s,” Carolina snapped back.

“Ha, really?” Carolina was beginning to get sick of Washington’s attitude. She knew that he was drunk but so was she, and she wasn’t spouting out hurtful remarks.

“Why are you saying all this now?” She asked, keeping her tone cool and collected, not wavering as much as her heart wanted to rise into her throat. She just watched the other agent shrug in response and take another sip of the golden liquid. “I cared about York, North, CT… and even South and Maine. And I care about you Wash. I know I must seem like the most heartless bitch ever in existence. I was selfish, I wanted to always be number one and I didn’t care who I fucked over but I really cared for everyone deep down. And… I know it’s my fault that you’re brain got all mixed up. If I hadn’t taken Iota and Eta, you wouldn’t have gotten Epsilon.” Carolina didn’t know how the conversation had made this turn. The alcohol had taken control of her mouth and she couldn’t stop. Nothing made sense, it was like their conversation had fast forwarded, missing out all the conversation in the middle.

Hot tears began to well in her eyes and one escaped, rolling down her cheek. She sniffled, and looked up, trying not to show any more weakness than she already had. The blond didn’t say anything, instead he looked away from the crying woman.

Wash couldn’t help feel some resentment towards Carolina. As much as they worked well together by day, at night it seemed like all the demons and ghosts of the past came to torment him. The fact that the redhead also had nightmares was some comfort but what Lina had said about it being her fault was right and he was angry. He wanted to forgive her, it was all in the past and too late to do anything now anyway and they were stuck together.

Washington knew she actually did have feelings. Church had told him what she had said that time when she ran away during their first mission together with the Blood Gulch crew. He felt a twinge of guilt when he could see her body shake through the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, just about loud enough that Carolina could hear. He picked up the bottle again but noticed it was finally empty. Figures. “Hey,” He spoke up again after an awkward silence. Carolina shifted so that her eyes were gazing into his. “I know you loved him, don’t worry. Also, it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one fucked up,” He heared Carolina stifle snicker, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Her green eyes still seemed watery and her thin face looked pale but she still looked pretty. Carolina was one of the prettiest Freelancers, y’know, after York in a dress and matching heels of course. Wash moved, standing awkwardly and leaned over the table. He didn’t know what had made him move or why he suddenly decided he was about to do what he was about to do but he didn’t stop himself. Mainly because sitting down after getting in this position would probably be a weird action. He approached the freelancer and nervously placed a soft kiss onto her lips. He could feel the surprise in Carolina’s lips as he body tensed but she soon melted a little into the kiss before tearing away from him quickly and standing up in one fluid motion.

“What the hell!?” She yelled, confusion in her voice. Wash grimaced, letting some of his weight rest on the table. “We were just talking about York,” The colour red began to creep into Lina’s pale complexion, matching her ruby hair. Just before Wash could reply, the kitchen door opened again and a half asleep Caboose walked in, wearing an oversized tshirt with the words “I am Church’s best friend,” hastily drawn on with black marker and pyjama pants that had little army tanks printed all over. Wash expected for the fellow blond to begin talking but instead he just stood there.

“Uh… Caboose?” Wash questioned, raising an eyebrow. Both Washington and Carolina watched to see if the team member would do anything but instead he just stood there. “Hey, is Church still with you?” He asked.

“Epsilon, what’s wrong with Caboose?” Lina asked to thin air. In a few moments, a small blue projection of a little Church appeared.

“He sleep walks sometimes - and why the hell does he still have that shirt!?” Wash groaned, pulling on his face with his fingertips. That’s when it finally hit him, was Church around the whole time they were talking? Wash looked over to Carolina and widened his eyes. It took a few seconds but the redhead finally picked up on what he was asking. She just shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Just forget about it, okay?” She mouthed. Church was ranting away about how Caboose would just walk around the base in the old days. Wash wanted to agree to Lina’s request but he doubted he ever could. Just another memory to haunt him in his sleep.

#fic rvbfanfic #carwash rvb #yorkalina #past yorkalina

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lightscameramagicrp · 5 years

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Welcome to Behind The Magic, The Artist Formerly Known as I Am Groot. We really loved your app for Astrid Todd with the FC of Caity Lotz and we can’t wait to see what you do with her! Please look at our checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. We’re excited to see more of you here at Behind The Magic!

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Astrid Todd

Name of desired character

Faceclaim: Caity Lotz

Please note: We do not accept FC’s who are under the age of 18.

Age: 30

Please list their age.

Birthday:

Please list your character’s birthday.

Species: Air Nymph

TV Show & Occupation: Agent/Manger for All Shows

Biography:

TW Rape TW Death TW Murder TW Violence

Once upon a time, Astrid Hayley Todd used to lie in bed hoping. She’d hope for the perfect family; hope that the faceless woman and girl in her head would comeback one day. She’d hope that if she pictured her mom and sister for long enough, then maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to work out their faces. She’d awake from dreams of her dad packing up the car and plopping her into the backseat as she watched her mom and her older sister fade farther and farther off into the distance, tears filling her wide blue eyes, as she wished that someday things would be different. But, while her sister, Jayden, was shielded away from the gang life growing up by their mother, Astrid wasn’t as lucky.

Astrid and her dad, Frank, found a home with her dad’s gang, the Reapers. And things were okay for a little bit. Her dad might have slipped back into old habits as he moved farther and farther up the ranks. Breaking the law a little bit more every day until he was the one in charge. But, they had money. They had food. She might have been a little girl living out of a trailer being looked after by a group of grown men covered in tattoos, but her dad did his best to shield her as much as he could. The members would refer to the bags of cocaine lying around as sugar, lead her outside or to a different room when a fight broke out, and someone would always stick around with her when the rest of the crew headed out on the bikes for the night. They’d plop her down in front of the TV and teach her about the different sports teams or let her pick out a horse for them to bet on. It might have been an unconventional life to grow up in, but for her and her dad, it was home and pretty much the only life she’d ever known.

But, the happy go lucky tale of Snow White and the more than 7 gang members, didn’t last for long. Her father was locked away on gang related charges. He had entrusted her to some of his closest confidants whom swore they’d look after her like one of their own until he got out. He tilted her tear strained face up to meet his gaze, ruffled the top of her head lightly, and said, “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’ll be out before you know it. I promise.” She was going to be protected. Safe until he could get out. Until he could come back for her. But, little did he know, the people he had trusted his little kid with were the ones he should have been worried about the most.

His name was Charlie. He had been her dad’s best friend. His was his second in command. Him and Frank had grown up together. He had bailed her dad out more times than he could count. And after Frank was arrested, he had promised to follow in Frank’s footsteps, looking after the gang until Frank could return. A promise that he quickly broke, falling deeper and deeper into the drug business and having the Reapers commit more and more crimes out in the open. But, what Astrid remembered most about Charlie was how his smell- the overpowering stench of alcohol and drugs that clung to his skin and carried after him in wafts wherever he went- always, without fail, managed to send chills down her spine.

Whenever Astrid was around, it was as if Charlie became fixated on her. Never once taking his eyes off of her. So, that night, when Charlie came barging through the front door of the trailer, Astrid hide in her room. She tried her best to drone out his loud deep cheers as he patted Pete, the one on shift to watch her for the night, on the back as the game Pete was watching came to and end, going on and on about some new drug, V, he had acquired that they could sell on the black market. Astrid leaned up against the back of her door, holding her knees tightly against her chest as she tried to focus on the music coming out of her walkman and not the boisterous man on the other side of the thinly made walls. But, as the noise from the living room only grew louder, her stomach began to growl, begging her to sneak into the kitchen and heat up one of those microwavable meals. She held out for as long as she could, but after another hour, she finally gave in, quietly tiptoeing over to the door and taking a peak out into the living room.

“Nuh-uh. No way. I’m not taking that. We don’t even know what it does!” Pete exclaimed, gesturing the the vile in Charlie’s hand just as Astrid took a small step out. The second Astrid’s bare little foot stepped out onto the carpet, Charlie’s head snapped to the side. A wicked grin tugging across his lips as he told Pete they had a way of finding out.

Astrid couldn’t tell you what it was about that creepy smile that made every muscle in her body scream for her to run, but letting out a yelp, she darted back into her room, shoving the door closed behind her and tucking the desk chair under the handle in a futile attempt to keep him out. Climbing onto her bed, she pushed herself up on her tiptoes and unlatched the window. Giving it everything she had to hoist herself up. But, Astrid only made it half way out when Charlie grabbed her by her foot and dragged her back down again. She squirmed under his grasp, screaming at any chance she had, before clamping her mouth shut to stop him from making her drink whatever that red liquid in the tube was. But, then he pinched the brim of her noise. Waiting until she was literally gasping for air, before pouring half the vile into her mouth. “Hold still, Kiddo,” He warned her. His hand slamming down on top of her mouth to make sure she’d keep it down as he downed the other half. The blood coursed through her body, burning through her veins as she began to shake underneath his grasp. Tears flooded down her face as he unbuckled his jeans. She blacked out after that, but not before she saw his eyes. Those noticeably silver eyes.

That was the first time of many. Everyone else knew. But, no one ever tried to stop it. So, the little blonde girl, now nymph, grew up and bite her time until she could. She trained and fought everyday. Physically and mentally. Walking around the trailer park, practically numb to the world around her. She started high school. Put up with names and jabs and feeling like her body wasn’t her own for year after year. Until one day, she was finally ready to earn a gang tattoo of her own.

There were always three ways to become an official Reaper. You could A) steal something and bring it back to the leader, B) let the entire gang beat you up, or C) Kill someone. And Astrid found herself opting for option C, for the next time, Charlie came at her, she cut off his hand. And then the rest of him. She kept on slicing and slicing until her shaky hands couldn’t hold the blade any longer.

Everyone else watched. But, no one was able to stop her. The ones who were still loyal to her dad held the people who weren’t back. And she turned intangible before the few that managed to reach her could even attempt to pull her off of him. And when it was finally over? When her white locks and nearly translucent skin was stained red, she turned around, handing the blade over to Pete, before heading back inside to go lie down.

Pete took over the gang after that and, for the most part, everyone left Astrid alone until there was news that her sister would be joining them. Their dad had never wanted Astrid visiting him from behind bars. He didn’t want to make things harder for his little Robin, then it already was. But, he had called Jae to come and see him. He was going to give her sister money to get through college and she’d be able to have a support system. Jayden and Astrid were going to get to be with family.

All Astrid had ever wanted was to get to see her mom and sister again. For it to be the four of them- Frank, Allison, Astrid, and Jayden- together at last. But, Astrid was far from the bright wide eyed little girl she was before. So, when Jae finally arrived, Astrid kept her distance at first. Faking happy around the other until she slowly started to open up and smile for real. The two had lost so much, between their dad being locked up and their mom passing away. But, they had each other and, the more Astrid was around Jae, the more her goofball side she had thought she had lost for good started to creep back out. She even followed after Jae to New York, going to NYU for film.

She was still selling drugs and getting things resolved through violence and petty theft. But, things finally looking up for Astrid. That was until their dad got out of prison. While Frank was everything Jae could have imagined and more, Astrid couldn’t help, but harbor some resentment against the man who was supposed to be there for her. He was supposed to protect her. And instead she had to protect herself. She tried to open up to him. She tried to crack jokes like she did with Jae, but everytime he called her “kiddo” she’d flinch away. And then tragedy struck. Their father got sick and while they did okay for themselves, they couldn’t afford his medication. They had already lost so much time as is, and now? Just as she got her father back again, she was going to loose him. She couldn’t handle that. So, when Jae thought of different cons and got deeper in gang dealings to earn some extra cash, Astrid was right there with her.

Astrid had just started seeing this guy, Damien Kent, and he was a good man. Too good for her. When they had started out dating, he had been playing for the Patriots , but an injury led to his retirement. They hadn’t been going out for too long, but he made her feel more fleshed out than she ever had before. The pair had been out on a date the night things went wrong once more for her.

She always went on drug runs for her family. It was just another errand like picking up the groceries. She would be five minutes tops. She just had to run in and get the money from a guy who wouldn’t pay up. Damien knew enough about her side business. It was kinda hard to hide when the gang insignia was permanently etched into her skin. But, what was supposed to be five minutes ended up taking a lot longer than that. The man she was trying to collect from, started to run, and when she blocked the way to stop him, he pulled out a gun and fired a bullet. A short-lived smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned intangible once more. The bullet moving straight through her as if she was nothing more than air. But, when she turned around, there he was. The retired football star with a bullet in his chest. She turned him into a nymph to save his life. But, the fact that he had even been there in the first place would forever be one of her biggest regrets.

After the incident, she quite selling drugs or doing the Reapers dirty work. She knew it was a risk for their dad’s health. But, she just couldn’t keep up with it anymore. She remained in the gang, giving out tattoos and teaching others how to spar. But, as Jae took over the reapers, Astrid stopped being a full member. Throwing herself into a straight-laced career instead and becoming Damien’s manager/agent as he transitioned over into acting. She wasn’t completely happy with how life turned out, but as she moved to Vancouver for her job and to be closer to her sister, Astrid hoped this might be the chance she needed to take back her life again.

#acceptedbtm

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 7 years

Text

Hunger - chapter 25

Hunger master post

There are a thousand things Stiles wants to say to his dad, a million things, but he’s too overwhelmed right now for words. He pulls his dad inside to the couch, and buries himself in his embrace again, and he feels like he’s twelve years old and someone’s going to come and drag him screaming from his dad’s arms any second now. He feels like he’s spiraling on the edge of a panic attack.

“It’s okay,” his dad says, his voice breaking a little. “It’s okay, kiddo. Breathe with me.”

Stiles sobs.

“John?” Melissa’s voice sounds like it comes from far away. “Help yourself to anything you need. We’ll be upstairs.”

“Thank you,” his dad says. “Thank you for everything.”

“Give me a call when you’re ready to go,” Parrish says quietly.

Stiles jerks upright. “What?” He twists his neck in time to see Parrish and Melissa retreating, Scott trailing after them, and then looks at his dad. “What does he mean, go?”

“Breathe,” his dad reminds him. His eyes shine with tears. “It’s just a formality, kiddo, but I don’t have custody of you back yet. I won’t, until it’s all sorted out. I’m going to get a court date for us, okay, but it might be a week or two. Until then I’m supposed to be staying in a halfway house , and you’re supposed to be staying here.”

“That’s bullshit!”

Four years in prison must have relaxed his dad’s tolerance for bad language, because he only nods. “Yeah, it is, kid, but I’m going to visit you every day, okay? Every damn day.”

“That’s not fair.” Stiles can feel his tears running down his face.

His dad pulls his sleeve over his hand and reaches up to wipe Stiles’s tears away. “I know, Stiles. I know.” And then he smiles suddenly.

“What?”

“Jesus, kid, you got tall.” His smile wavers and tears brim in his eyes, and he pulls Stiles into another hug. “You got so tall, and I missed it. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Dad.” Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into his dad’s shoulder. “So much. I wrote to you, and I tried to come and see you!”

“I know. I know you did.” His dad curls his fingers around the back of Stiles’s neck. It’s a comforting gesture that Stiles hasn’t felt in four years and he chokes out another sob. “Shh. Just breathe. Just breathe for me.”

It takes a while for Stiles’s wrenching sobs to calm, for his tears to stop. When they do, he’s still leaning into his dad’s embrace, his ear pressed to his chest so he can hear his heartbeat. He’s wanted this for so long, and fought for this so hard, but a part of him never really believed it would happen. Even now he can hardly believe it’s real.

His dad rubs his back. “So, Parrish told me a hell of a story on the ride back. Pretty crazy stuff.”

“Yeah.” Stiles sniffles. “It’s pretty crazy. But also, um, true?”

His dad exhales slowly. “Parrish said he was something, but seemed pretty lacking on the details. We pulled over at a rest stop just out of Woodland and he showed me that weird thing his eyes do.”

Stiles shifts back so he can see his dad’s expression. “Yeah?”

“Well, lucky we were already at a rest stop, because I almost pissed myself.” His dad snorts. “He seems like a good guy though.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “He arrested me once.”

“He mentioned that too.” His dad’s expression is caught somewhere between sorrow and anger. “God, Stiles. I can’t believe you were living on the street, kiddo.”

“It was, um, it was the better alternative at the time.”

“God,” his dad says again, releasing the word on a breath. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Mieczyslaw. I’m so sorry.”

His parents are the only people who’ve ever been able to say his real name right. It warms Stiles to his core. “Derek looked after me.”

“Derek Hale.” His dad shakes his head, incredulous. “Who is a werewolf.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Stiles says.

“It is. It really is.” His dad is staring at him like he’s trying to commit every detail of his face to memory. Then he shakes his head again. “It also makes a stupid amount of sense. Just… werewolves? Really?”

“Really,” Stiles says, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“At this point I don’t care if Derek Hale is a mermaid,” his dad says. His forehead wrinkles. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I am,” Stiles says, and dives into another hug. “I am okay, Dad.”

Now.

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo,” his dad tells him, voice muffled against the top of Stiles’s head. “If even half of what Parrish told me was true…” His voice hitches. “I’m so proud of you, Stiles, so proud, but also, as soon as I get custody of you, you’re never leaving my sight again because you’re grounded until you’re forty.”

Stiles laughs against his dad’s chest. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, Dad. That sounds awesome.”

***

Stiles doesn’t want to go to school the next day—he wants to go and hang out with his dad—but Melissa gives him a mom look and before he knows it he’s walking into school with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

He sits with Scott and Allison at lunch, and Lydia casts them some suspicious looks while she collects her lunch. Stiles knows she’s just trying to figure out what the son of the former sheriff and the granddaughter of a supposed drug king pin have in common. He won’t be surprised if she figures it out at some point, and probably sooner or later.

“How’s your dad?” Allison asks him in a low voice over s shared stack of tater tots.

“Good.” Stiles feels a flutter in his gut whenever he says that, like a small child telling a lie. He wonders if one day he’ll be able to believe the answer he gives. He distracts himself with a ketchup-dipped tater tot. “How’s yours?”

Allison cocks an eyebrow.

“Um,” Stiles says. “I meant generally, like emotionally.”

“Fine,” Allison says. How can someone with those dimples look thunderous? Then she huffs out a breath, and her eyes widen. “He’s not talking about it, and Mom’s not talking about it, so now it’s just this big thing we’re not talking about. And a part of me gets that Dad is messed up right now, and he still has to bury his father and his sister, but shouldn’t my mom be angry? I would be angry!” She buries her face in her hands. “Wouldn’t I?”

Stiles pats her on the back while Scott looks on worriedly.

“How am I supposed to ask my parents about their sex life?” she asks, her voice muffled by her hands.

“Oh, god, don’t,” Scott says. “Or the next thing you know you’re trying to have a shovel talk with a deputy.”

“You did that?” Stiles asks. “How’d it go?”

“Really, really awkwardly,” Scott says.

“Parents, hey?” Stiles offers, but he knows his attempt at solidarity falls flat because he can’t actually wipe the smile off his face when he thinks of his dad. Of the fact his dad is part of his life again.

Allison sighs and keeps her face hidden in her hands. “But,” she continues, “at least my dad can’t get upset with me having a werewolf boyfriend if he’s got one too, right?”

Stiles pats her again. “That’s a very good point.”

Lydia slides her tray onto the table and levels them all with an imperious glare. “Whatever you’re talking about, stop it immediately. I need you all to make suggestions for the winter formal, or we’re going to be stuck with the same tired Winter Wonderland theme as last year.” She sits down next to Scott. “And clearly I can’t let that happen.”

Clearly.

There’s no more talk of werewolves at the table after that.

***

Derek hears Stiles’s footsteps and the thump-thump-thump of his heart minutes before he knocks on the door of the loft. Derek pads to the door and opens it. His boy is twitchy today and smells of anxiety and anticipation. A lot of that, Derek knows, has to do with the man standing beside him.

“Hi,” Stiles breathes, eyes wide. “Dad, this is Derek. Derek, this is my dad.”

Derek remembers to put his hand out first. Human gestures aren’t quite second nature to him yet, but he’s working on it. The wolf might want to pounce on John Stilinski and scent him and drag him right into the pack, but that’s not how humans are, and Derek needs to make a good impression. He’s terrified John won’t like him. He’s terrified John won’t accept him in his son’s life.

John has a firm handshake. “Derek. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He seems to be holding himself stiffly, and Derek’s fear sharpens, but then John pulls him into an unexpected hug. “Thank you. Thank you for looking after my son.”

Derek looks to Stiles, and finds his boy grinning back.

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that the father is as tactile as the son.

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that John feels like he could belong too.

The moon knew what she was doing when she led the wolf to Stiles.

***

They sit around on mattresses on the floor, Stiles and his dad and Derek and Peter and Chris. They talk for hours, about the Argents and the Hales and the fire and a hundred years of antagonism that had culminated in smoke and flames that night.

Stiles holds Derek’s hand when Derek struggles to find the words to explain what Kate Argent did.

Chris looks away, jaw clenched tight.

When Peter talks about the fire, about the pack that was lost, he excuses himself and goes upstairs. Minutes later a howl echoes through the night, and sends a shiver down Stiles’s spine.

When Peter comes back, nobody comments.

Stiles notes the way his dad’s gaze is drawn back to his and Derek’s interlaced fingers time and time again.

“You and Derek,” his dad says hours later when they’re walking down the steps from the loft again.

Stiles looks at him warily. He was twelve when his dad was taken away from him, and before that there was his work, and his drinking, and his grief. They never really had the talk. Stiles has never come out to him.

“He’s older than you,” his dad says.

Stiles jerks his head in a nod, but something unknots inside him. “He, um, he’s also spent the last six years as a wolf, so…” He shrugs.

“That’s not how it works, kiddo,” his dad says. “I know that nothing here exactly falls under the normal rules. I also know that Derek saved you, but I need you to understand there are no obligations there. You don’t owe—”

“Dad! I know! I know I don’t owe him. I—” Stiles wrinkles his nose. “I love him.”

His dad is silent for a long moment, and then he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Stiles echoes, because that can’t be right.

“I’ve missed a lot of years with you, kiddo,” his dad says, his voice wavering a little. “On one hand, you’re always going to be my little boy.” His mouth quirks. “But I look at you, and you got so tall, and I think about everything you went through, and I trust you, Stiles. I trust you to know your own mind. I trust you to be smart about this, to be safe about this. So yes, okay.”

Stiles waits a moment for a but that doesn’t come.

“Don’t make Parrish arrest him, kid,” is all his dad says, and they continue on down the stairs.

#teen wolf #fan fic #sterek #hunger #discontentedwinter

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