#Fucking useless cop was too afraid to help. Take his badge...

[moaninmoonen]

Man Lures Woman Into Bathroom & Rips Her Teeth Out

[augmented-beauty]

You’re alive

Took me a while, but I finally finished this one shot. AU where things go a bit differently and Adam and Alex end up being together back in Detroit already. Takes place during the events of Deus Ex Blacklight, and I guess the title suggests you what it’s all about. Lots of feels and fluff ahead. 

No particular warnings, there’s only some light swearing. 

Word count: 3277

Tagging @mechanical-angels​, as she asked for this 🥰

You can also read this on AO3. 

I’m already tired of my shift for today, and I’m far from done. I’m sick of paperwork and awful patrolling. Never in my career, I’ve found myself checking out the time, hoping for my shift to be over as soon as possible. After coming back to service some months ago though, that changed.  Since I came back to work after the incident, most of my colleagues have been looking at me differently, like I was a walking weapon that could end them at any given moment. Many have turned their backs at me, and for what? For a brand new augmented arm. All of a sudden, I can’t be trusted. Only the persistent buzzing of my mobile drags me away from my frustration and has me raising a brow. Pritchard’s calling me, which is something he never does while I’m working. He eventually messages me but never rings when I’m on duty. Must be something important, so I pick up without giving a damn. 

“Hey hermano, what’s up? Is everything all right?”

“You could say so.” he takes a brief pause, probably pondering his words. “You were right about not losing your hope. Adam is alive, and back in town, too.”

I freeze, not sure if this is real life or just a dream. “Is…is this for real?” I’m really trying not to squeal like a madwoman out of nowhere, but my happiness and excitement are evident in my voice.

“Would I lie to you?” a rhetorical question, just to try at sounding pissed, but I can hear his light smile. “I’ll admit I didn’t believe it at first, but it’s true. Jensen contacted me out of the blue, and the only thing that I got clearly is that he’s in trouble, again. Actually, I’m not even sure he wants me to tell you, but I’m doing this anyway. Sure, he probably just wants to keep you safe and out of this mess, but you deserve to know." 

"W-what the hell is going on, Frank? It’s been a whole, fucking year, man.”

“He found himself in some sort of facility. He was pulled out of the ocean after the explosion of Panchaea and put in there to recover. Something’s off, considering he never was identified and his escape from there. Apparently, someone’s looking for him. We’ll get some explanations once you get to my place though, let’s say…an hour from now, more or less, if that’s fine for you. We, uhu, have an issue to fix in the meantime.”

“Of course it is, I’ll just call the rest of the day off for some sort of emergency. It’s not even a complete lie, actually.”

“Fine. I’ll see you in an hour, then.”

“Be careful out there.”

We end the call, and I end up staring at nothing in particular for a good minute. I’m completely speechless, I can barely believe what Frank just told me. I can’t even cry or anything, I’m in pure disbelief. I can’t focus on my paperwork anymore, so I just figure out what to do and how to do it. It won’t take long to reach Pritchard’s place, which used to be Rialto movie theatre, especially on my motorbike, but he doesn’t really live in the safest area of the city. There’s no way I’m gonna park there, I’d like to still have my bike in one piece at the end of the day, and to have it at all. Guess I’ll park somewhere safe and then walk the rest of the way, very carefully. Sure, I’m armed and everything, but I rather not get into trouble, especially not today. Calling the rest of the day off might take a while, though, so I better get moving, even if it’s early. I take my stuff and leave, getting to my superior’s office to work my magic.

“What is it, Montgomery?”

“I’m afraid I’ll need to call the rest of the day out, sir.”

“Why’s that?” he inquires, pissed.

“Family emergency, sir. I still don’t know much about it, but it’s definitely urgent, and…I rather know more about it.”

My words, and the way I told him this, seem to change everything. Sometimes, being a good cop also means to be able to trick people and be a flawless liar. But again, it’s a half-lie, after all. Harshness melts away from his features to be replaced by a more understanding expression. “Of course, of course. You can leave. I hope it will turn out to be all right, whatever it is.”

“Thanks, sir. Have a nice day.”

There was a time when my politeness towards colleagues and superiors was totally sincere and genuine. That, too, has changed. It’s only a way to survive and avoid trouble by now. Patience runs out at times, though, and that brings out nothing nice. Wayne Haas is going to get a taste of this, once again. He mumbles something out, something about me and related to the early end of my shift for today. I don’t even try to get what he’s saying, I just glare at him as I walk past his working station, and it successfully sends a message. I heard you, and I’m in no mood to be nice to you. He rarely has the guts to put up a fight with me, he learnt how useless it is the hard way. Today is no exception to this unwritten rule. I walk a bit faster once I’m outside, finally reaching for my motorbike. I find myself pondering, unsure about what to do. I put my bag in the trunk, hang my helmet on the handlebar and get on the saddle without retracting the prop stand yet. Should I call someone of my relatives and let them know what’s going on? Mum and dad would be ecstatic to know that Adam is still alive, as well as Isabelle. But what if they ask for explanations, or to see him? I couldn’t give them any answer nor assure their safety. I better not let them know yet. On the other hand, I can’t just leave my purse like that, it not safe, and I can’t carry it with me either. Isabelle could be of help: she’s in a secure area of the city right now, close enough to my destination. I pick a place to meet her and send her a text. I’ll be there from five to ten minutes. As my doubt is resolved, I get ready and leave the police station, driving through the streets of this hellish city for very few miles before parking. Traffic didn’t really help, so it’s not like I’m early anymore. Isabelle is already there, which is perfect.

“Alex, what are you up to? There’s no reason to give me your purse if you’re not getting into trouble.”

“I need to pay a visit to Frank. It’s all right chica, I just want to be careful. You know how shady that neighbourhood is.”

“Reason why he doesn’t want you to drop by unless it’s important.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not in trouble, and I’m not either…but it’s complicated. I’ll explain everything when I can. Just so you know, I only have my mobile and my documents on me, and I’m armed. Service gun and badge are well hidden, just in case, but I’m sure I won’t need them.”

“That’s a lot for someone who just told me not to worry.” she teases, and I can’t hold back an amused smirk.

“I just want to be cautious, but trust me, I’m sure I won’t need to use any of this. Oh, could you also please not mention this whole thing to mum and dad? I don’t want them to get worried for no reason.”

“Sure, but still…be careful.”

“Thanks, and of course. I have many reasons to come back home safe and sound. See you later, I hope.”

As I walk to reach Frank’s place, my heart beats fast in my chest, and not out of fear or tiredness. The excitement is becoming almost unbearable. Only a few minutes walk keeps me away from seeing Adam again after a painfully long year of uncertainty. I have to be careful, though, if Motor City Bangers discover Frank has a friend in the police, things might take a dramatic turn for him. A hint of sadness hits me hard every time I need to get to this area of the city. How low Detroit has sunk, how hard is the life of those who live there…Pritchard is lucky enough to have a roof on his head, even if it’s not that great, but he still has the local gang breathing on his neck. Stubborn as a mule, he turned down every sort of offer of help that came from my family or me. Yet, I’m not going to surrender that easily. Sooner or later, one way or another, I’ll convince him to put pride aside, or I’ll let him see how he deserves so much better. Frank can’t go on like this, it’s too dangerous, and all the precautions I need to take are just one of the many proofs. 

I can spot the entrance by now, and I send him a quick I’m getting in as I get closer, walking in the miraculously clear area at a fast pace. Once inside, I exhale heavily, the worse has passed. I make sure Frank has at least seen the message before slowly making my way to his living space. I overhear an unfamiliar voice saying something to him, but Pritchard’s nasal one follows right after. He speaks in his usual tone, letting me understand everything is alright, that the stranger is welcome here, or at least not a threat. 

“We should wait in another room.” he politely suggests to the stranger, or so I guess, but I can tell his patience is almost running out.

“Who the hell is coming there, Pritchard? I asked you not to call anyone else for a reason.” That’s Adam’s voice. I feel like my heart has just skipped a beat at the sound. Frank has decided to keep my arrival a surprise, and I’m not complaining.

The hacker gives no answer to him, and I can hear my pissed off boyfriend sigh deeply at his behaviour, as well as two pair of footsteps leaving this room. I figure out I better stop playing the stealthy card and let Adam figure out someone is coming in, it’s not like I wanna startle him. As soon as I walk over the doorstep, his body language changes in a millisecond. At first, his back is tensed, arms crossed in frustration, and you can tell he’s troubled and pissed off. Then, he turns, brows furrowed, but he melts in a heartbeat. His expression gets softer, and his eye-shields retract, showing all his emotions all together: disbelief, happiness, pure love. He doesn’t even have the time to say my name or anything else, just like I barely take in his appearance. I’m already throwing myself in his arms, literally, and he’s already steading himself to let me do so and pick me up. My legs lock around his waist with a bit of help from him, his hands pulling me up a bit to line our faces perfectly. Meanwhile, my own hands go from his shoulders to his perfect face and neck. Our lips collide in a desperate kiss, so much that our bodies curve into each others’, fitting like puzzle pieces, keeping each other as close as physically possible. We move in sync, kissing each other like it was our last chance to do so, or like our lives depended on this. The only reason for us to break the kiss is the lack of oxygen, which is, I fear, mostly my problem. 

A comfortable silence falls between us. We just stand there, taking each other’s features in. Adam doesn’t even put me down. I already was light as a feather for him to pick up before getting his augs, so it’s even easier for him now. My hands move to cup his face, softly caressing his cheek with my left thumb, as I scan every inch. His beard is a bit longer than usual, and his hair will definitely need a cut, but he’s mainly the same that left this city one year ago. Unlike that day, though, he looks less stressed, but that’s probably gonna change soon. As Frank told me, he’s in trouble again after all. His eyes are staring at me in awe, and I notice his lips curving up in a smile. I almost forgot how it looked like and missed it dearly, as the months before his disappearance haven’t been gentle with him, and it’s enough to have my eyes getting teary. Realisation is hitting me hard all of a sudden, and I can’t even put words together. 

Adam breaks the silence, and even if it’s meant to be a compliment thrown at me with confidence, I can still feel how emotional he is right now.  "Love the haircut.“

He steals a heartfelt giggle from me and a smile, but all this mix of emotions melts into tears. Happiness, disbelief and relief hit hard now that I’m absolutely sure this is no dream, that it’s all real. He decides to put me down, only to be able to hold my face in his hands so gently and comfort me properly. In the process, I moved my hands to his chest out of instinct, and I keep them there, feeling how his upper body slowly rises and falls as he breathes, and his heartbeat. A gloomy shadow lurks over as my mind reminds me about one thing harshly and suddenly: Adam is seeing my augmented arm for the first time. For some reason, I get self-conscious about this, and I try to move my right hand away from him, ashamed, breaking eye-contact as I do. His carbon-black hand grabs my white wrist carefully and gently, guiding me into my previous posture. He doesn’t let go immediately, and a soft brush of his thumb on my cheek encourages me to look at him again. Meanwhile, tears have slowly died down, and I’m left with puffy eyes.

Adam’s voice is soft and soothing, part of me feels silly about my behaviour. "It’s ok Maribel, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. There’s no rush to tell me what happened. If and when you’ll want to talk about this, I’ll be ready to listen. Either way, a bunch of augs can’t change what’s underneath.”

I recognize my own words. I said that last sentence a lot while he was recovering and I helped him out of his hard downs. Another smile forms naturally on my face, followed by a soft sniffle. How many times I’ve yearned for his gentle words during the last year…“I missed you.” I whisper, voice a bit coarse from crying.

In a heartbeat, Adam pulls me even closer to him, hugging my shorter form, and keeping me as close as he can. He needs this badly, and he’s not the only one. His voice is loud enough for us, and us only, to hear. “I missed you, too, so fucking much.” He falls silent for a while, enjoying the moment. Adam kisses the top of my head and breaths me in, only to mumble a series of praises against my hair. His words get sadder after a while, though. Again, he’s barely audible. “I thought…I thought you wouldn’t have waited for me. I mean, I’m not saying that I didn’t believe in your loyalty anymore, but-”

“I get what you’re trying to say, and that’s why I’m stopping you right there.” Still in his embrace, I move my head a little to look at him. “Something about how things went, about what we were told after the incident, had me thinking you might have been still alive. I can’t even explain it fully. I began scheming like the cop that I am, putting all facts and pieces of evidence together. Long story short, everything made me think about trouble, not death. So yeah, I didn’t really have a reason to move on yet. And anyway, you shouldn’t be too surprised, cariño. You’re worth the wait, Adam. You’re one of the most precious people I’ve met in my entire life, you have a heart of gold. You’re one of the few I trust with my life, that has made me so happy. And you’re my naupaka flower, my other half. A year is not enough to move on from someone like you. Hell, maybe even a lifetime wouldn’t be enough.”

Adam is speechless, blindsided, moved. I can feel it in the way his heartbeat changes, getting slightly faster, as if he was falling in love all over again. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks to himself all of a sudden.

“Do you have time for an extra-long TedTalk about it? ‘Cause I sure as hell can provide that.”

My joke successfully lighted up the mood, making him laugh softly. And I’m, too, falling in love all over again. His beautiful laugh was also missed dearly, I’ve been yearning to hear it again. We share yet another sweet, brief kiss before he speaks up again, getting more pragmatical. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but this beautiful reunion is not the only reason that brings you here.”

“Definitely not. You’re worth the fight as well, and I can’t wait to kick in the ass whoever kidnapped you for a whole fucking year anyway.” With a brief glance towards the other room, I catch the unknown man that got here with him checking on us as discretely as he can, but failing horribly. I’m going to keep his secret, though. “So, how about you two fugitives explain everything to Pritchard and me, and then we figure out what to do all together?” I suggest, puppy-eyeing him.

Adam just nods, defeated. This trick will always work on him. First of all, Adam introduces me to his new companion, Stacks, who helped him escape facility 451 in Alaska. Then, he starts explaining everything. He woke up after a coma and got interrogated by a certain Jenna Thorne. She presented herself as a government agent and asked about what happened in Panchaea. Adam immediately got suspicious, and I can’t blame him, especially considering how they identified him but never declared he was alive. Our point of view on things obviously confirm his suspects. Sarif told him about how the Illuminati might have been involved in the whole mess he had to go through during last year. At this point, we can all only think Thorne must be linked to them if not one of them. Things were looking grimmer and grimmer by the minute, so Adam and Stacks decided to escape. They really did treat them as fugitives, and their only hope was to get as far from Alaska as possible. Frank was their only hope. Detroit is not welcoming, but it was the only place where he knew he might still have had at least a friend. After Pritchard’s call, they went to search for some Nupoz for Stacks, and here we are. Pritchard then reveals what he had previously told Adam before I got there. He noticed an organized pattern raiding, meaning that something might be going on back at ex Sarif facilities. There’s only one thing to do about it. We need to get to Milwaukee Junction and investigate the area. Military-grade prototypes usually ended up there, and stuff like that just can’t fall into the wrong hands. 

[ravennawritesfanfiction]

Souls of Time- Danny Gallagher

Chapter Summary: We see the life of Danny Gallagher and Dani Quin; two friends and the first reincarnation of Eomer and Rohana.

Taglist: @schatzi-89

It was countless lifetime before they were seen again. When they did finally reappear for another life together, it was in the form of Daniel “Danny” Gallagher, a Narcotics detective and Danielle “Dani” Quin, a beat cop who worked closely with Danny and his partner Charlie. There wasn’t a romance between them; rather, they worked well together and she had a knack for being in the right place at the right time in order to help him.

Charlie and Danny both took Dani under their wings; both men were sure that in time, she would be a killer detective. She had all the skills and a killer instinct that wasn’t something that could be taught. Whenever Dani worked with the men, Charlie lovingly referred to the duo as the “Danny and Dani show”.

It started out that Dani would help their street rep but “arresting” them for crimes in front of drug bosses. They had a predetermined fake 10 code that she would call and then dispatch would “confirm” that the two were to be brought in. Sometimes one of them would “resist arrest” in order to sell it, but in the end, it always worked out. Another fake 10 code was called when they needed to be extracted from a bust before being made. That was her job. She kept the stings going.

Danny and Dani were as thick as thieves. Rarely a weekend went by where they didn’t meet up for beers and cheap bar food. Dani is even good friends with Danny’s on and off girlfriend Kate, who would occasionally join in the merriment. Neither woman felt threatened by the other. Kate always made Dani promise to bring Danny back to her; it was a promise both women would take seriously.

When Charlie and Danny killed the other undercover cop and Charlie got killed, Danny was arrested for the mess. Dani knew he hadn’t done it and more importantly, she knew that he hadn’t been bent. Kate moved on after the other cops harassed her and forced her bar closed. Dani made detective to fill in the gap left by Charlie and Danny. Her partner was an idiot who was likely to get everyone killed. Kate and Dani didn’t have much reason to speak to each other and fell out of touch. Dani was told not to visit Gallagher in prison or risk losing her job and never working as a cop again.

Jimmy was there when Danny got out. No one else in the department would speak to Danny aside from the records clerk who had always been madly in love with him. Dani wanted to be there, but she had been forced to sign a document that restricted her contacts.

Danny had been able to prove that he and Charlie hadn’t been bent and that he had been attacked by the other undercover who had been killed. Against all odds, he was let back on the force, but all officers treated him like he had the plague. With his badge in hand, the contact restriction went up in flames.

Danny didn’t have a partner and no one would trade to work with him; well no one but Dani. It was approved and they set out together. She had made lots of ground in the Drug underground while Danny had been out of the game. She had shops and garages set up all over the city. She rivaled the drug lords for ground controlled. She was on the verge of the biggest sting in the country.

The challenge that faced them was introducing a new associate and explaining the disappearance of the former partner. Danny at least looked the part, so he sold the lie beautifully. Her former partner had been a spy for another gang and had been dealt with, Danny had risen through the ranks, though no one remembered him.

When Charlie and Danny had been partners, Danny always drove. It used to drive Dani crazy. Now that she was in charge, she drove everywhere. She had garages located throughout the city so she couldn’t be tracked by her vehicle. Her driving was straight out of “Fast and Furious”. Danny couldn’t help but be impressed.

It was about a year into their partnership when the dreams started. It was a time long passed, but it was her point of view. She worked in a palace as a Lady in Waiting and an Advisor to the King. She was friends with a pair of siblings who she loved dearly. The dreams progressed and she finally saw the man’s face. He looked exactly like Danny, but with long blond hair. She loved the man and she couldn’t explain her feelings. She knew that there wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do for him. It all felt so real. Eventually, she saw herself in the mirror. She looked much the same, but she too was blond and she wore a crown. Danny-look-alike came up behind her in the mirror and kissed her neck. It was like a movie playing on mute. She smiled as two little kids ran through. Each child was a mixture between her and her King.

Waking up was hardest after one of the dreams. She couldn’t recall being this happy in her life, but the closest she had been was with Danny. The dreams didn’t make much sense to her and she hadn’t told Danny about them. She found herself being drawn closer and closer to him and she knew only after the dreams started, that she would die or kill for him; just as she had felt for the man in her dream.

Dani was met the next morning by a man she did not know. He looked friendly and there was a twinkle to his eye that was so familiar yet so foreign. He wouldn’t tell her his name, but deep down she knew it; it just refused to come to mind. For the longest time, no one said a word. He sat there like he expected her to tell him about her life, but she wasn’t about to spill her guts to a stranger. He spoke first. His voice sounded like a man who enjoyed lighting up a pipe on the front porch. Very grandfather-y.

“Have you had the dreams yet?” it was a simple enough question that affected her like an earthquake to the very center of her being. All air left her lungs like she had been hit by a train. “When Rohana chose to remember in the form of dreams, she thought it would be more calming then someone telling her. Then again, dreams held more power then. People believed that they learned important things from worlds unseen through dreams. Éomer had disagreed, but Rohana insisted that she knew herself.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t know anyone named Rohana or Éomer! My name is,” the old man wasn’t interested in where the conversation was heading.

“Of course you do and don’t,” as if that was supposed to answer all the questions swirling in her mind. “You are Rohana or at least this incarnation of her. Your friend outside, who has walked past that window a dozen times since I walked in, is your version of Éomer. Whether you feel romantically for him or not, he is your soulmate. The dreams were designed to remind you of that. You don’t have to love him, but you are tied to him in ways you had yet to realize. Tell me, do the dreams have sound?”

“N…no they don’t. How could you possibly know all of this?” Dani was on her feet, not wanting to be sitting if this went south.

“I was there when Rohana and Éomer were married and crowned King and his Queen. I am the one who determined that they were soulmates. I took it upon myself to help you through each of your lives. Have you told Daniel yet?”

“Not going to tell him. He won’t believe it and he doesn’t need the distraction”

“Won’t tell who what?” Danny had come in when he noticed she wasn’t so at ease anymore. He was her partner, therefore he was allowed in for closed-door meetings.

 “Nothing, Danny. Just someone who has us confused with people from his past. I’m sure I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Lying to Danny was useless, but for whatever reasons, she thought that she could get one past him without him noticing.

“Bullshit. Danielle, what the hell is going on?” He never called her by her full name, just as she never called him Daniel.

“Allow me to explain. Danielle here can fill in the blanks that I miss. She has been having flashbacks to a life you two lived long ago. I am merely here to help her make sense of all the new things she is learning. In the other life, you were married and King and Queen of a realm known as Rohan. You are technically soulmates; which is why you are so in tune to each other. You are under no obligation to love each other. It just explains why you are drawn to each other.”

“Is… this true? Danielle?” He was mad, furious even. He had been parading Kate around, having reunited with her, thinking that the one he loved was unobtainable; now he finds out that they are meant for each other and each other alone.

“Yes. But you can’t possibly believe the old man. So what he guessed right about the weird ass dreams I have been having; so what?” she was on the defensive.

“You promised that there wouldn’t be any secrets between us, Dani. Fuck! I had to hear from some random person that the woman I rely on and care deeply for has been having dreams that could be important for me to know! What do you want me to say?” he picked up his empty coffee mug from the morning before and threw it against the wall. Shards sprayed everywhere. Dani kept her eyes on her shoes. The nameless old man stayed where he was, unbothered by the show of anger. Danny stormed over to Dani and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. It wasn’t rough enough to hurt her, but enough for her to yelp. “We are partners. We. Are. Partners,” for reasons he couldn’t understand, he was hit with emotions so strong he couldn’t stand. His knees gave out and he was at her feet crying. It was intense love and drowning loss. The feelings were not his own. He clung to her legs; afraid that if he let go, he would lose her again.

“Ah. There he is. I’m glad Éomer had come to his senses! Maybe we can get this all squared away.”

There was a loud bang as the door frame splintered as a rival gang leader barged in Danny had just gotten to his feet and thankfully, he didn’t look like he had just been crying. The old man had vanished and they were left in a room alone with ceramic and wood shards scattered across the floor. Danny grabbed her arm to pull her out of the way when he saw the gun, but he was too late. It hit Dani center in the chest. He caught her as she fell, lungs filling with blood.

“I’m glad…I…found you.” Choking on blood, words were hard. One last cough and she was gone. Sobs shook though Danny’s body, but they were short-lived. The rival gang boss approached him with a .45 and put it to his head. Everyone in the warehouse knew that their bosses were dead.

Two police badges were found in the locked drawer of the desk. Narcotics Detectives. The warehouse was vacated and set on fire. Flames spread through the building and approached the small office at the top of the stairs. The bodies of two detectives, partners, still holding hands; the only sign that anyone had been in the building in years.

The smoke swirled in patterns. First, two halves of a heart joining together. The second was of a long-haired King and his beloved Queen. The last was two detectives overlooking the flames, still holding hands.

The fire department put out the flames. Homicide took over when two bodies were uncovered from the debris. The Narcotics chief came in to identify his detectives. They had been protected from the flames. Neither had a family of their own. They were cremated and Kate took Danny with her after the funeral. Dani was taken back to the station, where she sits on the chiefs bookshelf; the constant reminder of the dangers his officers face on the streets. The remainder of the warehouse was torn down and cleaned up. Danny and Dani watched it all, smiling.

The gang boss who had killed two cops was turned in by Danielle’s warehouse manager who took a plea deal. Confess to the manufacture of drugs and give the name of the killer and he got a greatly reduced sentence. No drugs produced by Danielle while undercover was ever distributed.

The two soulmates awaited another chance to be together “until they meet again”.

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 3

Hey so this is the best AU and also fight me if you disagree, I’ll PM you my address

Ao3 | Ripped Tag

“Astrid, come on, you know you could just come stay with me and Tuff until you figure this out,” Ruffnut perches on the arm of Astrid’s single chair, reaching out and threatening to close her laptop’s lid on the legal search that is going nowhere, “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this.”  

“You don’t know why I’m being so stubborn about this?” Astrid scoffs, checking her phone again to see if her disappointingly useless landlord has texted back yet.  He said he’d talk to Hiccup, if that’s even his real name, but the lack of response doesn’t have her particularly hopeful. “Do you even know me?”  

“Yes, I do, and I’m still offering your type-A ass my couch, think about it.”  

“That’s not the point.  When I signed this lease, it was a statement.  I’m done with roommates, I can afford it, and I shouldn’t have to leave it just because there was some gruesome murder here and a bunch of tone deaf weirdos want to see it.”  As much as she threatened it, she doesn’t really want to go to the cops. She’s not someone who lets other people handle her problems, but the more she looks at local tenant laws, the more it seems like her only option if her landlord won’t get involved.  

The knock at the door doesn’t quite break her focus and she elbows Ruffnut in the leg, silently asking her to get it.  If it is her landlord, he can wait a minute, he wasn’t in a hurry so she might as well finish her thought.  

“So I’m just your butler now, or something, I get it.” Ruffnut sulks to the door, shaking her head.  

“Thanks, you’re the best.”  

The old door opens on creaky hinges that Astrid tries not to imagine it revealing a dark shadow with a sharp knife, because getting herself scared over a hundred year old murder isn’t going to help anything. Ruffnut pauses at the door for a second before looking back over her shoulder at Astrid, confused but delighted, like she couldn’t help but showing every time Hiccup stuck his foot further in his mouth on that stupid tour.  

“You didn’t have to get a stripper to thank me for dealing with your weird issues.”  Ruffnut laughs, “it’s like a Thursday.”  

“What?”  Astrid looks up, focus broken by the bizarre suggestion, and sees a fully uniformed police officer on the other side of her open front door.  “Ruff, no—”

“You think I’m a stripper?”  The cop smiles, surprisingly delighted by the comment, but Ruffnut hasn’t ever been one to stop while she’s ahead.  

“You’re way too pretty to be an actual cop,” she reaches out and grabs the badge on his chest, “that’s obviously not real.”  

It doesn’t detach.  Astrid jumps to her feet, rushing to the door to grab Ruff’s arm and pull it back.  

“My apologies, Sir, what can we do for you?” She puts on her most reasonable smile, hoping that if he’s here to help with her harassment issues in some way that Ruffnut didn’t just ruin it.  

“It’s fine,” he winks at Ruffnut, “I’m flattered, I’ve been working out.”  

“I’m assuming you didn’t come here for my friend,” Astrid turns the word into an insult as she pushes Ruffnut back a step, “to insult you.  Do you need something?”  

“Officer Jorgenson,” he holds his hand out and Astrid shakes it as he looks at Ruffnut, “you can call me Snotlout.”  

“Astrid Hofferson,” she makes the introduction, dropping his hand and pointing at Ruffnut.  “That’s Ruffnut, she doesn’t actually live here though.  I just moved in this week.”  

“Yes, I heard about that, can I come in?”  

“Yeah, sure,” Astrid steps out of the way and shuts the door behind him.  She’d offer him a place to sit, but she still only has the one chair and given Ruffnut’s behavior, she doesn’t exactly trust her friend to not make herself welcome on the officer’s lap.  

Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration, but she still elbows Ruffnut to remind her to at least pretend to be respectful.  

“Ok,” Officer Jorgenson deflates slightly, holding his arms out in front of himself, “so I’m not actually here on official business, so let the record show that you invited me in without actually receiving an official answer as to why—”

“Hey!”  Astrid takes a step towards the door and he doesn’t block her, but something in his apologetic expression is enough to make her pause.  “If it isn’t official, why the hell are you here?”  

“Because Hiccup Haddock is my cousin,” he sighs, “and he told me that someone moved into the apartment that he does his creepy tours to and that he really freaked you out—”

“I am not freaked out!”  

“She called me so scared her first night I thought she’d accidentally killed a guy or something,” Ruffnut snickers and Astrid smacks her on the arm.  

“And I just wanted to come let you know that he’s actually a really harmless weirdo and I talked to him about being creepy and he said that you said something about filing a harassment claim—”

“What?  If I did you’d throw it out for him?  No wonder he goes around shining lights into people’s apartments if he has a cop covering for him—”

“Look, Miss Hofferson—”

“Since this is so unofficial, Astrid is probably more appropriate, Snotlout.”  She spits his name, feeling impossibly more trapped than she did a minute ago.  If going to the cops isn’t even an option and her landlord still isn’t answering, she doesn’t know what’s left.  

“I’m a traffic cop, I don’t see harassment claims and if I did, I couldn’t do anything about them.  And maybe I should have ditched the uniform—”

“You still could,” Ruffnut adds, taking the only chair and playing her favorite role as audience to this nonsensical drama.  

Astrid is supposed to be finishing out her grad degree in peace.  She has a job at Berk’s archival library for God’s sake, she made every boring decision that she possibly could have.  

“Look, I get that he can be creepy, but I’m just asking you to trust me that he’s mortified.  And as his cousin, I think it’s hilarious how hot you are, because he’s awkward around hot girls when he’s not creeping them out, but I’m taking this seriously.”  

“Are you hitting on me?”  Astrid can’t help half raising her voice and Snotlout shakes his head.

“No, not at all, I’m just asking to give you my number—”

“Dude!” She’s not afraid of a murderer breaking in anymore, since she’s perilously close to unlocking her long sought after ability to shoot fire from her eyes.  

“So that if Hiccup keeps freaking you out, you will maybe consider telling me first before reporting him.  I’ll be the one to shut down his tax-evading weirdo tour, if I have to—”

“And he’s evading taxes, great, that really makes me feel like I should help him.”  

“I’m just asking you to consider it,” he takes a business card out of his chest pocket and crosses out the ‘Officer’, scribbling Snotlout in its place and writing another number on the back of it. “That’s my personal cell, if he doesn’t knock this shit off, let me know.”  

Astrid takes the card and stares at it silently, jaw working.  

“Just theoretically, could I use that personal number for things other than your cousin being creepy?”  Ruffnut asks and Astrid’s heart sinks.  

She gets what it’s like to love someone who can’t be trusted to act normal without reminding and suddenly the loneliness she’s felt since moving back, surrounded by drama and files and flailing, makes her want to trust Snotlout.  Or at least not add another person to the long list of people she distrusts.  

“I’ll think about it,” she pockets the card and nods.

“All I’m asking.”  He says goodbye then and leaves and Ruffnut pouts as Astrid gets ready to head to class.  

“You know, I was asking more, you could have let him answer.”  

“You’re a wreck.”  Astrid doesn’t add that it’s why they’re such good friends.  She hates it, but she’s feeling like a wreck too.  

She goes to class and tries not to think about it. Any of it.  She listens to Fishlegs wax poetic about applying the Dewey Decimal System to primary sources and she tries not to think about it.  She reluctantly responds to her landlord’s shamefully late response that he’s handling it with something like ‘it’s fine’, and she tries not to dread eight o’clock.  

It’s eight fifteen and her background music is loud enough that she almost doesn’t hear the knock at the door.  Fearing having to deal with another less than official visit from Officer Jorgenson, she turns the music off to get the door, startled for the second time today, this time by a teenager holding a large pizza box. The smell of cheese and pepperoni reminds her that she hasn’t eaten since breakfast and it’s lucky for her own record that she’s confused enough to stutter instead of just taking it.  

“I didn’t order pizza.”  

“324 Harbor street, apartment 2?”  The kid frowns at his receipt and then holds it out to her. “Oh, there’s a note.”  

The slip of paper has a sentence along the bottom in blocky register print: From someone who is not actually a dead prostitute hair fetishist, hoping to welcome you to the neighborhood in a more normal way.  No one delivers toothbrushes this last minute.

“I guess it’s for me,” she takes the box, tipping the kid for having to deal with this and being thankful that he doesn’t expect a stripper.  She’s just cracking the box open when she hears a voice in the courtyard, loud and nasal enough to reverberate in the closed pane.  She sneaks over, cracking it a careful inch open and bending down to listen.  

“Right there, in the second floor apartment, is where Elizabeth Smith died.  I used to point out the light fixture above the actual place where a fellow tenant found her body in the morning, but someone just moved in and um, they weren’t a fan of that as you can see by this lovely sign they made me.”  

Astrid winces at that.  It had been a momentary impulse to hang a piece of paper that says ‘Fuck Off Peeping Toms’ on the window last night, and she’d almost forgotten about it, especially with the lack of commentary in later tours.  Maybe it’s only legible when the streetlights are still on, and they go out around ten here.  

“But, they should be receiving an apology pizza right about now with an explanation that I am not personally a dead prostitute hair fetishist, I am only very interested in the actions of one Viggo Grimborn who might have been described with at least two of those adjectives.  Now, onto site two…”  

The pizza is delicious.  It helps that Astrid is so hungry and so righteously victorious that she made a crazy person believe her anger was deserved, but she puts the page of coupons on her fridge with a magnet she stole from her last roommate after the whole dishes debacle.  That was petty of her, wasn’t it?  Petty like the sign in the window.  

Then again, when she put the sign in the window, she didn’t have any reason to believe that Hiccup felt any kind of remorse, but she does now.  

Getting her a pizza was a pretty decent thing to do, and Snotlout did say, repeatedly, that he’s a harmless weirdo.  Maybe that’s where she’s stuck.  She’s a criminology major, she knows all about harmful weirdos. She knows how malice lets people break social barriers and commit to dangerous behaviors.  She understands that people go on killing sprees and mutilate their victims, but she doesn’t understand the locations where they did so becoming landmarks.  

It was easy to believe Hiccup was malicious, but now that all signs are pointing to him being odd and awkward and obsessive, she can’t help the bubble of curiosity in her chest.  He’s in her courtyard three times a night, always followed by a gaggle of interested people.  There was that guy in the tour she ended up crashing referencing a beat up book and asking a million questions.  More than that, Hiccup had strong opinions about those questions, shutting them down with markedly flat green eyes that lit up whenever he talked about walls and letters and slums.  

She cracks the window leading up to the second tour. She’s not sure why, maybe it’s to see if he mentions the pizza again or the sign or if he’ll say that he thinks he got one over her.  But it’s the same as the last tour, if a bit quieter, the group around him a little more involved.  

“The apartment is occupied now, but it was approximately under the living room light fixture, which used to be the hallway in front of the door before a series of modernizing renovations in the nineteen eighties, that a fellow tenant found Elizabeth Smith’s body in the early hours of the morning.”  

That’s a relief.  No murderer came through her front door to kill anyone, apparently, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in, shivering at a gust of winter breeze through the blinds.  The sign she made flaps and she almost reaches out to pull it down.  

“Now, we’ll move to site two next, where two weeks after the discovery of Elizabeth Smith, a night guardsman found the body of Caroline Pike murdered in a similar fashion.”  

Astrid peeks outside and sees a couple of girls a few years younger than herself clinging to each other like they’re watching a live action horror movie proceed and giggling, holding onto Hiccup’s every word. There’s a woman taking notes and a few dark, shivering forms made faceless by the angle of the light, leaning into the story.  And Hiccup’s stupid toothpaste stained top hat bobbling slowly towards the gate as he draws them along behind him, the pied piper of murder-obsessed tourists.  

She throws open the window and leans out, tossing the blinds over her head, onto her back, “hey!”  

“Did you get the pizza?”  He whisper-shouts back up at her and she sighs, reaching through the window to pull her sign down.  He tries to catch it when she crumples it into a ball and throws it at him, but it bounces off of his chest and lands in the snow.  

“Who did it?”  

“I did,” he laughs, awkward, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I was the one coming out as not a prostitute hair fetishist, if that wasn’t clear.”  

“No, I mean who was Viggo Grimborn?  Who killed those women?”  She leans her elbows on the windowsill, “I’ve heard this part of the tour about half a dozen times now, spoil the end for me.  Who did it?”  

“Oh, no one knows.”  He shrugs.  

“I get that it’s unsolved,” she shivers, rubbing her bare arms and trying not to feel the tour group’s eyes taking her in as part of the spectacle she didn’t sign up for.  “But there has to be an answer.”  

“There really isn’t, the crimes were committed before fingerprinting, witnesses were unreliable, police were understaffed.” He remembers to direct the last phrase at the group and he must know that his cousin came to talk to her.  “Not that much has changed.”  

“Yeah, nothing much has changed and we still solve things.”  She doesn’t know why she’s pushing.  Maybe it’s because she understands being crazy for a reason, for a conclusion, for something solid, and she has to believe that applies here.  “So no one even has a theory?”  

“Everyone has a theory,” he laughs, the same tired, dismissive laugh he gave the guy with the book full of wrong answers, “that doesn’t mean anyone has an answer.”  

She grits her teeth.  It shouldn’t be this hard to get a clear answer out of someone and when it is, she should give up, but she’s never been good at that and she keeps pushing.

“Ok, do you have a theory?  You’re out here shining laser pointers into people’s apartments and droning on and on about the guy every night.  You must have a theory.”  

“I don’t,” he laughs, “I like the mystery.”  He waves at her like that was an actual answer and she’s furious as well as cold when she shuts her window and looks around her sparse apartment.  

Harmless is just a synonym for useless, apparently.  

She catches herself looking up Viggo Grimborn at work three times the next day before Fishlegs is the one to notice, glancing at her screen over her shoulder and tutting.  She closes the window faster than if she’d been caught ordering deviously sourced hair and spins to face him, arms crossed.  

“What?”  

“I thought you said you weren’t one of those…Grimborn-ologists,” he shakes his head and she sighs, teeth gritting together.  

“I’m not.”  

“You’re researching Viggo Grimborn at work.”  

“Yes,” she swallows hard.  She doesn’t like mixing work and personal drama.  More than that she doesn’t like having drama, but the more she thinks about it, there’s only one way to fix this and the chances of keeping it quiet under Fishlegs’s eagle eyes are impossibly small.  “Apparently my apartment was really cheap because it’s where the first Grimborn murder took place.”  

“Oh,” he frowns, “how’d you learn that?”  

“Well, to be honest, there’s a tour that comes by three times a night to point out my living room light fixture.”  She doesn’t expect to laugh, and more than that she doesn’t expect Fishlegs to follow, a wheezy little chuckle falling out of his mouth. He’s out of practice and it makes her a little more comfortable being so righteously irritated about the entire situation.  

“I can see how that might spark your curiosity.”  

She bites her lip, thinking for a second before speaking, “so, you get a lot of people coming in here about it, don’t you?”  

“Every other person, at a minimum,” he sits down at his desk across from hers and starts sorting through the box of papers he’d been carrying, “it doesn’t matter that we have the most Civil War maritime shipping manifestos of any library in the world.  All anyone cares about is Viggo Grimborn.”  

“I didn’t know the case wasn’t solved,” she adds carefully, reopening her search and skimming through names that are starting to sound familiar.  Experts and suspects and victims, all carrying equal heft in a conversation that should be about one more than others.  “Is that why it’s such a thing?”  

“While I won’t claim to be a Grimborn expert,” he looks up, a bit sheepish, confident in a way that’s been called arrogant so many times he tried and failed to dial it back in the shy direction, “I’ve spent long enough trying to figure out why it’s so captivating that if there was an answer, I would have found it by now.”  

“I’ve been thinking,” she looks around at the stacks of dense, shapeless information around them.  Newspapers and journals and notebooks.  Files and files of receipts and notes and pieces of paper that people stored away in awkward places or forgot about entirely.  “Maybe it’s the mystery.  Maybe that’s why some guy is leading tours to my apartment complex courtyard every night, and if it wasn’t a mystery anymore…”

“Astrid,” Fishlegs laughs, comfortable with her name when he’s telling her what he feels is an indisputable truth instead of telling her what to do, “hundreds, if not thousands of people have tried to solve the Grimborn murders.  There are dozens of books published, forcing the facts in order—”

“Hear me out,” she feels like Snotlout must have, asking her not to call the cops, “all of those people have wanted to be right more than they’ve wanted this ridiculous thing to end.  You want people to appreciate this collection and I want my apartment to be off of the must-see locations list at the Berk tourism center.”

“Again, if detectives within hours of the crime couldn’t solve the case, what makes you think you can?”  

She smiles, looking admiringly at the collection, “you know, none of those detectives had yourhelp.  There’s a reason I chose the records collection as my work-study.  I knew there was a lot I could learn here.”  

“Are you appealing to my vanity?”  Fishlegs asks like someone who denies having any vanity at all.  Astrid forces her smile brighter.  “We’ll have to be systematic about this, and quiet, I’ve been fending off requests for years to start a Grimborn-ology research group here.  I’ll start with the Gazette, you can take the Berk Enquirer, it’s notable for being on the forefront of alien conspiracy theories, but I can’t deal with those again.”  

The Berk Enquirer is a trove of theories, but Fishlegs finds a conclusive narrative in the Gazette.  The order of murders, the detectives researching them, and the letters sent to the press are all soon settled into a rough narrative that they stick to, testing out suspects and looking for more.  Astrid largely ignores the tours outside her apartment at night, hearing the same few snippets on rotation until it becomes like an alarm, the third tour serving as her reminder to go to bed before the next day.  

After about a week of research, Fishlegs finds a journal written by a prominent free mason at the time of the murders, questioning someone who recently failed to ascend into the order.  She means to keep it a secret, but Hiccup is outside, talking about mystery and she opens her bedroom window this time, leaning out to interrupt him.

“What about the masonic connection?”  She shouts down and he does a double take before signaling that the group pause.  

“Referring to the mutilation of the second and fourth victims?”  He takes his hat off and scratches his head before putting it back on, slightly crooked.

“Yeah.”  

“Doesn’t explain how Richard Miller could have committed the third murder in March eighteen eighty four, since he was in Paris and all.”  

“How’d you know I was talking about Richard Miller?” She never expected him to know the name and can’t help but feel halfway dismissed.  

“Who else had openly decried the masons?”  He smiles and points towards the gate, “now, onto site two.”  

“Hold on, how do you know he was in Paris?”  

“Records from the cargo ship Thebes that frequently made the Berk to Normandy route in the eighteen eighties, he travelled with a family load of wool cargo.”  He leaves before she can ask more about it and she spends the next day grumbling under her breath while asking Fishlegs for every eighteen-eighty dated cargo record out of Berk.  

“You’re getting too hung up on what one of these crazies said,” Fishlegs cautions her around five, “that’s the point, their facts don’t line up and they use it to frustrate you.”  

“Maybe you’re right,” she sighs, deciding to put the shipping manifestos away, “he just wants me to be wrong though, anything for the mystery.”  

“Then we find something conclusive.”  Fishlegs doesn’t dismiss the comment and she resolves to find the right window to thank him.  

The next week, Hiccup shuts down three full days of Drago Bludvist research with the fact that Drago couldn’t have committed the murders because his single arm would have forced him to find a surface to brace against, and the fourth murder was functionally in the middle of an alley. Hiccup deftly cuts across what Astrid thought was a decent supposition that the deputy detective Ryker had something to do with it, because Ryker was filling out an arrest report in the adjoining city of Freezing to Death at the time of the third murder.  

Worst of all, Astrid gets the feeling that he’s enjoying this.  He pauses his tour a moment too long, waiting for her to retort one night when he dismisses the Bludvist theory in the courtyard, even though it doesn’t make sense to bring up around the site of the first event.  She disproved it on her own after mentioning it to him, finding a manifesto stating he was on his way to Bucharest from Berlin on the date of the fourth murder, but Hiccup probably already knows that.  

Three weeks in, she asks him about the plausible connection between Grimborn and the travelling bible salesman Johann, who was selling in Berk at the time of all known Grimborn murders, and he shrugs, citing the same lack of evidence that frustrated her at work.  

“Is it still three times a night?”  Fishlegs asks at work, handing Astrid an aptly dated newspaper.

“As far as I know,” she shrugs, “I’ve been here late enough to miss the first tour a few times a week.  He’s respecting the blinds though.”  

“You could drop it, then.”  He suggests and she can tell he hopes she’ll do it only so he can have an excuse to do the same.  

Astrid is a lot of things.  Stubborn, hard-headed, and independent, sure, but a reason to quit just doesn’t fit.  

“So could you,” she challenges, pulling out a new box of Berk Enquirers.  Between theories about dragons disemboweling people on the streets of downtown Berk, there are actually some decently reported witness accounts.  Even if the witnesses aren’t necessarily sober, they’re earnest.  Lights in the sky could mean someone running across the rooftops.  They could mean…something.  

A fact she’s trying to pull from thin air to keep Hiccup from showing up under her windowsill every night.  

It’s early when she finds it, early because she couldn’t take multiple tours to her apartment on a Friday night.  A note scribbled in pencil on the back of a Berk Enquirer dated eleventh of November eighteen eighty four. She shows it to Fishlegs, who has an analogous report from the Gazette, and it’s not an answer, but maybe it’s enough.  

Enough to confront Hiccup in person, instead of sitting in her apartment, thinking about fixing this or ending it or she doesn’t even know.  She assembles her sources, the pictures of the notes she found and the dates of the papers on which they were written and then she waits.  

[fantasticworldoffanfics]

DEREK/STILES

Fandom: TeenWolf

Just an extended must read list of awesome fanfics that is in no particular order :) ...

top favourites, more top favourites

In The Woods Somewhere

Author: WithMyTeeth (Ylith)

Summary: Peter travels with various carnivals, showcasing a massive black wolf he parades as a man-eating beast. In his caravan he keeps Stiles, his most precious possession who is much more special than he may outwardly appear. Stiles feels a kinship with the creature through their mutual captivity, so when he makes his escape he frees the wolf as well. Like Stiles though, the wolf is also more than he appears

Five Days of Dickings

Author: drunktuesdays, mklutz, the_ragnarok

Summary: Five Dickings in Five Days was the (hopefully interim) title he’d seen on the contract. More like five days of dickings. Whatever, Stiles was into it. The money is great; the fucking is also great. It’s a win-win way to pay for college.

Wolf Pack: Beacon Original

Author: Beerwolves, fearfrost1211

Summary: When his father landed the Deputy Chief of police position in Beacon Hills, Stiles moved to his new town gladly, embracing the chance of a fresh start. What he didn’t expect was to find himself hopelessly drawn to the gruff Vice President of the local motorcycle gang, the Wolf Pack. Derek Hale, resident bad boy of Beacon Hills, spent his time helping his sister lead the Wolf Pack and working on motorcycles at his family’s automotive garage. Then, one hot summer afternoon a bright-eyed boy walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

And That's a Wrap

Author: the_problem_with_stardust

Summary: An insanely attractive guy and his terrifying dog move into the Preserve. Too bad Stiles is a magnet for embarrassing situations.

Comprehensive Study in Getting a Boyfriend via Persuasive Essay-Writing

Author: Luddleston

Summary: Stiles is a junior Journalism major who takes Rhetorical Strategies because it covers his English requirement. He's also trying to be subtle about the way he keeps checking out his professor. Derek is a grad student teaching his first class ever. He also has the most annoying student on the face of the planet, and is donereading essays about the history of male circumcision. Flirty e-mails are exchanged, Stiles spends way too much time in Derek's office, and they fall in love over a mutual hatred for APA formatting.

The Rose and the Wolf

Author: xxjinchuurikixx

Summary: For who could ever learn to love a Beast?  Stiles takes his father's place as a Beast's prisoner in an enchanted castle.

Home

Author: coffeeinallcaps

Summary: Derek has bought a beautiful house. Stiles can't stay away. (In which everyone hangs out at Derek's place all the time and Stiles tries but fails not to fall for a certain socially inept alpha.)

(Not So) Pure Imagination

Author: theroguesgambit

Summary: "There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Forbidden Forest (eat you up)

Author: kishmet

Summary: Okay, so technically werebunny Stiles isn't supposed to wander around in the woods at night. But creative interpretation happens to be one of Stiles' special talents.

Happiness is Not a Horse, You Cannot Harness it

Author: otter

Summary: Derek's expecting the new guy. He's expecting another mostly-useless college kid who doesn't know one end of a horse from the other, and Derek doesn't have the time to babysit. What he's not expecting is Stiles Stilinski, who carries on conversations with the livestock and gets maybe a little too chummy with Isaac and is really kind of stupidly perfect in every way. And it's just distracting, that's all.

On Job Training

Author: suzvoy

Summary: Stiles finally gets the practical experience he's been looking for. It's safe to say it doesn't happen even remotely the way he was expecting. AKA, pretend boyfriends! With a twist!

The Searching Ceremonies Series

Author: KouriArashi

Part 1: Divided We Stand

Summary: Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Part 2: United We Mend

Summary: Sequel to Divided We Stand. Six months have gone by, Stiles is slowly recovering from his injuries, and the Searching Ceremony is about to happen. This time it's Cora who brings someone home, but he might not be what he seems...

Part 3: Together We Build

Summary: Everything has settled down after the last Searching Ceremony. Stiles decides to tackle a cold case that his father gives him - a 10 year old murder caused by a rejected werewolf bite. Meanwhile, Derek is trying to solve an even bigger mystery - what's going on between Uncle Peter and Sheriff Stilinski, and how much does he have to worry about it?

Part 4: Forever We Strive

Summary: When Peter and Sheriff Stilinski decide to adopt a child, they meet a little girl named Malia, whose parents were murdered. But when Stiles starts looking into who killed them, he finds a lot of unanswered questions.

Ever After

Author: Sybilina

Summary: Four years ago, Stiles left Beacon Hills, to go to college, to get away from the pack, to try to mend a broken heart. He thought he'd succeeded but right when graduation came around, his whole world fell apart. Again. There's only so many times Stiles can deal with his world falling down around him. This was one time too many.It isn't about getting the girl, or the guy, because romance and lovey feelings aren't a cure for depression.

Play It Again Series

Author: metisket

Part 1: Play It Again

Summary: In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

Part 2: This Doesn’t Hurt

Summary: Melissa isn’t sure how she accidentally adopted a teenager, but she’s confident that somehow, it’s all Stiles Stilinski’s fault.

Derek Hale: Werewolf Cop Series

Author: the_deep_magic

Part 1: CherryBomb

Summary: Stiles is yanked up to his feet so fast that his world spins and his shoulder aches and he’s a second from screaming police brutality! when he gets a good look at the cop’s face.Holy shit. Stiles was just tackled to the ground by a fucking underwear model with a badge.

Part 2: Service Weapon

Summary: It is 100% against Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Office policy to allow two officers engaged in a romantic relationship to be partners. It is also 100% accurate that no one else on the force can last more than three days in a car with Stiles without begging for either a ball gag or the sweet release of death.

Scent Marking For Dummies

Author: Hatteress (goddammitstacey)

Summary: Stiles is almost used to being chased around the school by werewolves at this point. Having to share a bed with Derek freaking Hale, on the other hand, is just needlessly complicating his life.

The Right Number

Author: kyaticlikestea

Summary: When Stiles Stilinski's phone gets switched at the gym, he really just wants it back. The last thing he's expecting is to fall hopelessly in lust with the guy who's got his phone.So, of course, that's exactly what happens.

All You Ever Needed To Know About Knotting

Author: KuriKuri

Summary: Derek had started reading the column by accident. Really, reading strangers’ questions about knotting and heat had never really appealed to him. However, at that point in time, he was a little desperate.And he was right: most of the questions submitted by anonymous readers didn’t appeal to him. The answers, though, did.(Or: In which Stiles writes an advice column about knotting and Derek is smitten. Also they're neighbors.)

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby

Author: stilinskisparkles

Summary: In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Dating Backwards

Author: RemainNameless

Summary: Pornstars Derek and Stiles work for the same company. Derek only shoots with werewolves and Stiles only shoots with humans. That's not going to change after they meet. It's really not. (It might.)

Dirty Paws and Furry Coats

Author: queerly_it_is

Summary: Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

This Is Home

Author: raisesomehale

Summary: Other than being a werefox with a werekit for a son, Stiles' life is relatively normal. He's a single parent, owns a modest sized home, and has a variety of kid-friendly meal recipes tucked neatly under his belt. It might be just him and Nate, but they have it in the bag. Nothing is missing from their lives.That is, until Nate befriends a girl named Sadie Hale on his first day of kindergarten. Then everything changes.

Adventures and Explorations Series

Author: Survivah

Part 1: A Simple Life

Summary: Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton's magic powder, and his plans change.

Part 2: Finding Miracles

Summary: Stiles was planning on just being a fox for his entire life. Then, well, magic, true love, blah blah blah, things got complicated. But as it turns out, he still has a lot to learn about this new world he's living in. Humanity, man. It's weird.

Knot if You Don't Knock

Author: jsea, marguerite_26

Summary: Stiles never expects to present as an omega -- that's something that happens to people like Greenberg, not him. He is so wrong. His life only gets stranger when Derek Hale mistakenly bursts through the door of his exam room during a doctor’s appointment. What happens next is a complicated series of events, including freshly baked cookies, book-carrying and surprise heats.

Sweet Tooth

Author: Spikedluv

Summary: Derek Hale had returned to Beacon Hills and the ice cream place was reopening. “Best. Day. Ever,” Stiles told Scott.

Oh God, He's Hot

Author: lupus

Summary: When Stiles came home a couple of days before junior year started from a summer away, he was a little more than excited to see his best friend Derek, especially now that he’d finally gotten the courage to act upon his long standing crush on the guy. There’s just one problem; somewhere in the span of three months puberty hit Derek like the bus hit Regina George and all of the sudden Derek is hot. And Stiles isn’t the only one who’s noticed.

Worth Series

Author: holdin_out_4a_hero

Part 1: You’re Worth It

Summary: "NO WAY! Her sons coming here?”Danny sighed dreamily. “Yeah, the Stiles Stilinksi. The young model that made it big on accident with his moms camera. The L.A. heartthrob that has actually never dated anyone, and no one knows what he does over summer, and yet he still manages to keep the hearts of young Americans easily.”“So why’s he coming here?” Scott asked, remembering that the entire Stilinski family was loaded with money, given the success of every single one of them, and yet Stiles would be coming to the middle of nowhere, for a random school that offered nothing.“Who knows? His parents are from here, but they’re not coming here with him. I have no idea, but honestly? I’m not complaining.”

Part 2: You’re Worth Everything

Summary: Stiles loves Derek, Derek loves Stiles... if it's meant to be, why does it seem so hard to get it to be?

The Awkward and Sometimes Painful Life of Genim Hale

Author: BlueRunawayMoon

Summary: Stiles is a writer of gay erotica whose work, according to his Editor (one miss Lydia Martin) has gotten dull and boring. Lydia suggest's that Stiles try to LIVE a little, gain some new juicy experiences that he can write about and bring the heat up again. Only problem is Stiles is a bit on the dorky side and not good with 'living a little'. After a whole slew of embarrassing situations brought on by his best(sometimes!) friend Scott, he's given some wise advice and decides to take a tropical paradise vacation. All's going good and well, and he's got a major crush on his super hot tour guide Danny. Yet it seem's like he can't stop bumping into Derek, who, as annoying and brooding as he seem's, also makes it quite clear he WANTS Stiles. As in...wants wants. With the two being brought together almost by fate, Stiles discover's that Derek is more than he seems....WAY more.

The Christmas Raffle

Author: mikkimouse

Summary: Every year, the royal Hale family raffles off a Christmas dinner with Prince Derek to raise money for charity. But this year, the winner is the second chance Derek didn't know he was looking for.

Kings Of The Moonlight

Author: thelogicoftaste

Summary: Derek is the newly single father to his only son, Isaac Argent Hale, and he finds himself having to move back to his home town of Beacon Hills to escape the insanity of his ex. It's in the middle of all this upheaval, the crazy mess that his life has become that he meets Stiles. Crazy, beautiful Stiles.

more fics: part 2