#allydia fic

[novasillies]

and if i wrote an allydia band au oneshot w unrequited feelings and yearning and infidelity and 'straight girls' being absolutely perverse and confessions whispered at graves as well as into sweat-covered skin in moments of pure, inebriated, unbelievably horny impulse WHO IS PULLING UP??????/

[goathouse]

the allydia hogwarts au i kept meaning to write two years ago

so, now that teen wolf fandom is making its resurgence even though none of us actually want to watch the show anymore i’m gonna share this teen wolf-harry potter fusion au i’ve had kicking around for ages

it’s based off of this awesome post about a squib faking her way through hogwarts and going on to join the ministry. that post gave me a lot of feelings, and i like to imagine that squib would go on to pass some important laws. 

-

allison grows up in one of the oldest, most respected wizarding households in the country. Her parents are both aurors, her grandpa and cousin are influential figures in the ministry, and everyone is so excited to see what little allison will do when she starts to show signs of magic. except she never does. 

so there’s whispering between the adults in her life about the s word starting when she’s around 9, and they try to hide it from her but allison’s smart and very good at listening in on conversations, so she figures out what’s up pretty quickly. she starts doing some research. she hears all sorts of tales about the horrible lives squibs lead, how they’re all totally dependant on their families, or homeless. there’s lots of stuff in the papers about squib rights debates, too, and the possibility of the situation getting better, but it’s all very nebulous up-in-the-air. she keeps hoping desperately for that spark of magic to come.

it never does, and when she’s 11 she doesn’t receive a letter from hogwarts. the argents decide to prepare allison for her inevitable life as a muggle by enrolling her in a muggle school for the next year. they pick a very nice expensive private school with uniforms just like hogwarts and say “everything will be fine” but of course it’s a total disaster. math is alright but she’s way behind in science from the get-go, and everyone gives her weird looks in history when she hasn’t even heard of the world wars, and then she has to deal with these things called computers that leave her utterly confused. by the end of her first day, all her classmates are joking that she’s an alien, and no one wants to talk to her. 

but she puts on a brave face and pushes through. she learns about geology and how to use a mouse and keyboard, and about muggle history. she still has no friends but that’s fine. she’s needs her family to stop worrying about her. she needs to be OK. 

then the news comes through. a very controversial law has just passed. squibs can now attend hogwarts on an altered curriculum. starting next year, hogwarts will accept not only 11-year old squibs, but any squibs under the age of 17 who would like to enroll in the first year class. allison hugs her parents and tries not to cry (because crying is weak and argents are supposed to be strong). she doesn’t go back to the muggle school the next day. 

allison and lydia get their hogwarts letters on the same day, and both feel a sense of great relief and cautious excitement. lydia has never heard of hogwarts, but she is so glad to finally have an explanation for all the weird things that have been happening around her all her life. she goes to diagon alley and buys all the books on hogwarts and the history of the wizarding world she can get her hands on, and spends the summer preparing. lydia wants to be the best at hogwarts - the most popular, the most successful. most of all, she doesn’t want to be the weird kid like she has been at her elementary school. but how could she be weird at a school full of magic, she reasons. when she reads about the houses, she hopes for ravenclaw; blue is a great color on her. 

on the hogwarts express, allison meets scott and stiles, two fellow first years who’ve known each other almost all their lives. they’re friendly and have no idea she’s a squib who’s a year older than them, so she doesn’t tell them. lydia meets a boy named danny, who seems nice enough, but she doesn’t want to decide who her friends will be until she’s got a full picture of the school’s social structure and all the important players. 

then they arrive and everyone gets sorted; allison ends up in gryffindor along with scott and stiles. they’re so nice to her but she can’t help but wonder how nice they’ll be when they find out. when lydia sits on the chair and the hat is placed on her head, she hears “Interesting...are you up for a challenge?” to which she thinks, of course, and the hat says, “good, because this is something I’ve been hoping to do for a while now.” and before she can figure out what exactly is going on, lydia has become the first muggleborn ever to be sorted into slytherin.

her first few weeks at hogwarts do not go at all as lydia had hoped. most of her housemates are cold to her and the people who are friendly seem to see her entire existence as a political statement they can support. she hates it, and sets out to take control of the narrative. she befriends jackson, a fellow slytherin who’s not especially fun to talk to but to does seem to have a lot of clout because of his family. he doesn’t like it that she’s clearly smarter than him, so she stops raising her hand in class. 

meanwhile, allison is outed as a squib on the second day when it becomes apparent to all her housemates that she is only in about half of their classes. to replace charms and transfiguration, she is allowed to pick two third-year electives, and she chooses muggle studies and care of magical creatures. the former is a breeze after her time in muggle school, and the latter is very interesting subject matter, but she hates being in a classroom filled with older students who whisper loudly about how they can’t believe she’s allowed here. 

she’s the only squib in the program (apparently there was one 15-year old squib who declined the invitation, and no others fit the age specifications) and feels hyper visible because of it. it doesn’t help that she constantly needs accommodations in her classes (like needing someone else to light the flame under her cauldron in potions because hogwarts has no magical means of producing fire), and that she only attends half of defense against the dark arts (the first half of each period is supposed to be focused on theory, although much of the time it isn’t and she just has to stand awkwardly to the side). For the other half of the credit, she has an individual seminar with the instructor in which she learns “non-magical defense,” which sounds cool but mostly just involves more theory from a professor who’s intimidating and clearly doesn’t want to be there. 

scott and stiles stick by allison, thankfully, but she doesn’t really have any other friends. the experience is better than muggle school, but that’s about all she can say about it for the first two years. 

third year, everything changes, because third year, they get a new defense against the dark arts teacher, and it’s harry fucking potter. the real-life war hero from the chocolate frog cards. as he tells them all on the first day when a student asks what he’s doing therem he’d decided that auroring is a little too dangerous now that he had a kid, and he’d always been interested in teaching. 

naturally, everybody loves professor potter, who is funny and kind and has lots of cool war stories to tell, but no one loves him more than allison because he absolutely changes her life when they meet for their first seminar. “what have you been working on so far?” he asks, and when she tells him he says “well, that sounds completely useless. how would you feel about learning some hand-to-hand combat instead?” and so allison spends two afternoons a week learning to throw a punch and kick, to strike with her elbows and knees, to deflect a blow, to dodge a spell, to take someone’s wand away from them if they’re standing close enough. she’s a quick learner, taking down every phantom attacker professor potter summons to practice on. 

meanwhile, lydia starts dating jackson and they become all anyone talks about (well, not the older students, obviously, but most of the people in years one through three are suitably awed). lydia learns that her magical talents and academic success will get her nowhere, but that her pretty face is a powerful asset indeed. she wields it with pride. 

in 4th year, allison dates scott for three months before she finds out that he’s a werewolf. she’s not really upset about the werewolf part, but she is very upset that he never told her even though he apparently told stiles ages ago. he’s apologetic and they become friends again after a bit, but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s the extra piece that doesn’t really fit, that scott and stiles need each other so much more than they need her. 

allison takes out her frustrations on professor potter’s conjurations. he’s moved on from human attackers to magical beasts, and she rips them apart with the knife she's now allowed to carry. “how would you feel about learning to use other weapons?” he asks one day, and when he offers her a selection, she picks the bow.

it’s the start of fifth year when allison and lydia have their first real conversation. they’ve encountered each other plenty but never had reason to talk until their potions professor announces that everyone needs to find a partner and he will no longer be allowing groups of three. allison looks to scott and stiles, her partners from the last 4 years, and knows instantly what’s going to happen. she tells them it’s fine and gets up, looking around for a friendly face. lydia, meanwhile, is telling jackson that no, she doesn’t mind at all if he partners with danny, and silently rejoicing because it’ll be a break from cleaning up after her boyfriend’s idiocy. 

“do you know what you’re doing in this class?” lydia asks allison with a penetrating expression. “yes,” says allison, “do you mind that you’ll have to do all the spells?” “i don’t like to let anyone else do the spells anyway,” lydia says with a smile, and then it’s settled. they make the best pepperup potion in the class that day. “it is such a relief to finally have a competent partner in my favorite subject,” lydia remarks. “it’s your favorite subject?” says allison, “mine too! and, uh, i love my friends and everything, but i’m definitely glad we’re partners now too.”

after that, they get along like a house on fire. they talk about their shared love of potions (lydia loves how exact and scientific it is, and allison loves how it allows her to make a sort of magic herself), wizard fashion, and, after a few weeks of bonding, the feeling that everyone around you thinks you don’t belong and resents your presence. lydia’s mostly flippant at first, obviously uncomfortable talking about it, but allison understands and pushes just the right amount. lydia realizes one night around winter break as she’s falling asleep that allison is almost certainly the only person in this school to ever ask how she’s doing and actually want to know the answer. it feels good to have a real friend; she hadn’t known what she was missing before. 

allison and lydia produce the best potion in the class every single session. jackson gets jealous and starts making snide comments, and allison tells lydia she shouldn’t put up with it. “why do you let him think you’re so much less smart than you are?” she asks one day and lydia starts wondering about that herself, too. 

the first day of sixth year, after a long summer of sending and reading letters in paris, lydia pulls allison into a tight hug when she finds her on platform 9 3/4. when scott and stiles arrive a few minutes later and sheepishly announce that they’re dating now, allison doesn’t feel any of the jealousy she’d thought she would. she’s just really happy for them, and content about her place in the world for the first time. 

NEWT potions doesn’t have partners, but allison and lydia still sit next to each other, and study together for every test. jackson didn’t do well enough on his potions OWL to get into the class, so he’s taken to making comments about how potions is the weakest field in magic. “you don’t even need a wand to do it!” he says once. “all the respectable work is in spellcasting; a muggle could make a potion.” lydia bristles “what’s wrong with something a muggle could do?” she says, glaring, and jackson is shocked into silence for a moment. she’s never talked back during one of his rants, she realizes. she always just let him go on and made sympathetic noises. and when did that become her life?

jackson starts to get more and more insecure and jealous about lydia’s academic success. “i think you need to spend a little less time on school and a little more time on me,” he tells her one day in a very firm tone. she doesn’t even look up from her book as she says “no.”  they’re broken up a few minutes later.

as she sits in her room alone after, lydia realizes she doesn’t even feel sad. if a version of herself from a few years ago were here, she’d be screaming at her to go apologize, that her status as jackson’s girlfriend was so much more important than a potions grade, but the version of herself she had become had different priorities. better priorities. 

a few days later, they’re walking through the halls between classes when one of her fellow slytherins calls lydia a mudblood, and she doesn’t even have a moment to think up a good retort before allison is punching the guy so hard he falls to the floor. “what’s your magic blood doing for you right now?” she says as she kicks his wand out of his hand before he can get a hex out. 

they duck away down the hall as a crowd is gathering and lydia can faintly hear stiles yelling “that was awesome!” behind them. “you didn’t have to do that,” says lydia once they reach a quiet corner far enough away from the noise. “no,” says allison. “it was fun though.” and she smiles and lydia has never wanted anyone to defend her, never wanted to need defending, but she finds that right now she doesn’t mind at all. it helps that allison was defending herself a bit too, that they’re kind of in the same boat, even if they’re opposites in so many ways. 

“god, the look on his face was amazing,” lydia says, and they both laugh, and lydia can’t remember ever being so happy before, and allison looks absolutely beautiful with her head thrown back, her hair in disarray, and blood on her knuckles. so lydia kisses her. 

allison is still laughing as she kisses back, and it’s so easy and simple and so fucking perfect.

jackson tries to get lydia back a few weeks later, putting his arms around her from behind and whispering in her ear about how he can make people stop talking shit about her family, and she kneels down and flips him onto the ground in one swift movement, exactly as allison taught her a few days before. “no thanks,” she says as she begins walking away. she can hear him wheezing on the ground but she doesn’t look back. “i’m good.”

[stilesbansheequeen]

Allydia + 12 please!

12. “She’s hiding [in] thesofa.”

Thegood thing about Derek’s beach house is that it’s huge.

The badthing about Derek’s beach house is that it’s huge.

Lydiahas to admit that when the pack decided to play hide-and-seek earlier, she wasa little skeptical. They’re all in their twenties, after all, and she’d ratherbe sunning than searching. Her reluctance (and lack of unfair werewolf senses) onlymeant they’d dubbed her the seeker, of course. And now… Well, she has to admitshe’s kind of having fun.

Shemanaged to find Scott in just a few minutes, followed by Erica and Boyd—who werepressed very close together in one ofthe closets—and then Derek. Although, considering Derek was just lying in bedreading the copy of Catch-22 he borrowed from her, she’s not sure that countsas finding. Moments later, she finds Stiles, who’s unsurprisingly chosen tohide under Derek’s bed. He’ll probably be init in two minutes flat now that they’ve both been found, and she pointedlywarns them that she will not bepleased if there are any unidentifiable stains on her hardcover later.

Dannyis much harder to find, since he buried himself in the sand outside. Heimmediately rats on Jackson, who stole his original hiding spot of the showerin the upstairs bathroom. She then spots a few of Isaac’s curls sticking outover a large potted plant on the balcony, and that view allows her to see apoorly hidden Kira, who’s standing very still behind two surfboards. That onlyleaves Allison, who, of course, is the person Lydia would like to find themost.

Shespends ten, twenty more minutes looking, and she’s almost certain Allison must haveswitched spots at some point, because she looked all over this damn house.

A few timesshe surreptitiously asks the werewolves for help, but they all laugh her off,saying it’s not fair. What’s not fairis that she wants to make out with her girlfriend in the ocean, and instead she’sstuck trying to find her. Allison has a competitive streak a mile wide, too, soLydia knows she won’t just be giving up.

Eventually,Lydia resorts to calling out for her. If she has to deal with this, so doeseveryone else in the house.

“Allison!Just come out! You already won!”

Nothing.

“Ally!Please?”

“Technically,you win if she just comes out,” Scottpipes up from where he’s making dinner. “You have to find her.”

“Allison!”Lydia calls. “You win, okay? Promise!”

Fifteen minutes later, someone finally takes pity.

“I can’twatch this anymore,” Isaac says, when she wrenches his closet open for thethird time. Lowering his voice, he mutters, “She’s hiding in the sofa,alright? The one on the first floor. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Andgoddammit, Allison has been switchingspots, because Lydia threw those cushions across the room several times.

Sheheads downstairs and is about to pull them away again when she has abetter idea.

“Oh,dear me, I wish I could find Allison,”she says dramatically, before flopping down on the sofa, draping herselfacross the cushions. “My, this couch is so lumpy.”

“Whoare you calling lumpy?” Allison demands from underneath her, but she’s holdingback laughter. Her head pops out from between the pillows, but Lydia is stillsitting firmly on the rest of her. Allison is strong enough to throw her off if she really wanted, but she doesn’t.

“You’resuch as ass,” Lydia says, shaking her head, but she can’t keep the fondness outof her voice. “It took me nearly an hourto find you.”

“Sowhat?” Allison asks, sticking her tongue out. “You’re just going to sit on mefor an hour to make up for it?”

“Mm, Ithink if I’m going to sit on you much more, we should go up to our room, don’tyou?” She grins, standing and grabbing Allison’s hand from the couch to pullher up. “I mean, you did win, afterall. It’s probably time for your prize.”

send a ship and a number

[eusuntgratie]

happy valentine’s day

💕femslash february💕

Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, E, 1200 words

for @pray-for-sound    

Allison unwraps the package slowly, more than a little nervous at the glint in Lydia’s eye.

“I thought we weren’t doing gifts, Lyds. Valentine’s Day is stupid - it’s just a-”

“Commercial bullshit holiday that’s an example of our ridiculous capitalist bullshit society, yes darling, I know. Open your fucking present.”

Allison grins. “Yes ma’am.”

Intensity flashes across Lydia’s face, quick enough that anyone else would miss it.

The box is small, and beautifully, perfectly wrapped. She pulls the silver bow away, lets it fall to the floor and starts to tear into the pretty pink paper with silver foil hearts. Of course Lydia wouldn’t stop at getting her a gift, she’d wrap it all perfectly too.

She reveals a small, nondescript black box, and opens it slowly to reveal an odd, c-shaped pink…oh. Allison feels herself flush.

“You know what that is, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“So, no fussing, okay, because this is really a present for both of us.”

Allison smiles. She’s in a heap of trouble, but nothing’s more fun than Lydia’s trouble.

keep reading on ao3

[eusuntgratie]

now i wake up by your side

💕femslash february💕

Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, G, 170 words

for @boyslikewolves

“This is my best friend, Allison,” Lydia says cheerily, introducing her to her mother. It grates something inside Allison. Best friend, best friend, best friend. It bounces around in her head all week, rattling inside in her brain and making her more unsettled each time she sees Lydia. 

keep reading on ao3

[eusuntgratie]

bloodline

💕femslash february💕

Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, T, 500 words

for @sheetghsts

Allison sits alone in a chair in the dank, damp basement of her grandfather’s house. Her father had tied her to this chair once, trained her and timed her and pushed her to be better, stronger, faster. Deadlier. Unfeeling enough to kill. Kate had found that rage inside her and poked at it and poked at it and told her she could be strong. Strong enough to kill Derek. To kill her friends. Boyd. Erica. Lydia says it’s not her fault, that she didn’t kill them. But Allison knows that they’d still be alive if she’d been strong enough to see what was right in front of her face a little sooner.

keep reading on ao3

[theproblemwithstardust]

12. kiss on the nose (femslash if you feel like it??) <333333

my friend, I always feel like femslash :D 

This Allison isquieter.

Lydia crushes the thought with a ruthlessness that surprisesherself.

Sure, everyone was suspicious when the ‘disoriented hiker’brought in by the Beacon Hills forestry service turned out to be AllisonArgent. But Stiles sent out a mass email – since he was spending time in Polandand didn’t have an international phone plan – explaining that some pagan godowed him a favor. Apparently, that favor extended to raising the dead.

Although Allison confirmed that she had no memory of thethree years that passed between her death and being found wandering in thePreserve, Lydia was still unconvinced. In her experience, good things didn’thappen in this cursed town. It took Derek Hale of all people to get her to evenspeak to her former best friend.

Which Lydia did, if only to get the kicked puppy look off ofDerek’s face. She told herself it was only because she promised Stiles she’dkeep an eye on him while he was away. It had nothing to do with the fact that,somewhere along the line, she started liking Derek and listening to his advice.

So they met up at the café in town and Lydia spent the entiretime on edge. She sized the other woman up, watching her every move from howshe made her coffee to the way she tossed her hair over her shoulder. She couldimagine Stiles laughing at her, shouting constantvigilance.

But Allison still drank her coffee black with two sugars andstill smelled like her familiar mango shampoo. Lydia didn’t know what to dowith that.

After fifteen minutes of painful small talk, Allison setdown her mug.

“Did you and Stiles ever figure it out?” she asked.

Lydia almost choked on her latte. “Yeah. We’re much betteroff as friends.”

“He got over that crush?” Allison sounded dubious.

“Yes, thank god.” Lydia watched the steam curling out of hermug. “It helps that he found his own epic love story.”

Watching the smile break over Allison’s face was likewatching the sun rise. Three years hadn’t been long enough to kill thebutterflies in Lydia’s stomach.

“So Stiles and Derek figured it out.” It was a statement, nohint of surprise.

Lydia smiled back, like an automatic reflex. “They did.”

This time, the silence that hung between them wascomfortable. Allison kept grinning down at her coffee, clearly filing away thatnew bit of information. And Lydia watched Allison, trying to snip off thefeeling of hope blooming in her chest.

“You should talk to him,” she said.

“Stiles?”

“He took it really hard.” Lydia closed her eyes, trying to quellthe memories of Stiles, hollowed out and lifeless. Consumed by guilt. “After.”

“I will.” She reached out, threading her fingers throughLydia’s. Keeping her grounded.

It took a moment to find herself again. Allison waitedpatiently, her expression free of pity or judgement.

And for Lydia that was the spill point. “Could we do thisagain?” she asked, words tumbling out without her prompting.

“Of course.” Allison squeezed her hand, the warmth in hereyes making Lydia’s heart skip. It felt like a beginning. The start ofsomething amazing.

This Allison isquieter.

No. This Allison is still her Allison, just grown up and a little battered. Maybe she getslost in her head more easily, maybe she doesn’t laugh as often. But life hasn’tbeen kind to Lydia either. She knows she’s not the same person as she was threeyears ago, so why would Allison be any different?

It took them a long time to get here, but Lydia is so gladthey made it. Especially when Allison leans over her, soft hair cascading overher face and brushing over Lydia’s bare skin in a way that makes her shiver.Lydia can’t help but lean up to kiss the tip of her nose, reveling in the glowof Allison’s blinding smile.

And maybe, just maybe, Lydia’s found her own epic lovestory.

(accepting sterek and femslash prompts from HERE!!)

[zaritarazi]

femslash february | day 20: lydia + allison, please. please. come back. --

Mr. Argent keeps everything exactly as it was. It’s something Allison is owed, and Lydia conveys that much in her gaze, in the frequent trips she makes, rifling through these precious, delicate items, knowing that at some point, she will find the one.

She took the necklace without asking, like Chris would’ve had any right to tell her no, like he had even the ounce of sorrow that seeps deep in Lydia’s bones. He hadn’t loved her enough, and that’s what killed her. They’d all failed, not Lydia, not Lydia who had loved her more than anything, and still does, and always will, but her parents and her family and everything else-

But there is no room for failure. Not with Lydia. She doesn’t take the F, not the easy road, and she thumbs at the silver charm now around her neck and she knows she will find it, something, the one thing that will let her hear. And then everything will be fine.

If she can listen to the end, if she can taste it in her mouth as it fills her nostrils and makes her eyes water, if her heart skipped a beat the moment Allison’s stopped, then surely, certainly, there is something that will let her look further. A scene after the credits, if you will. An epilogue.

The end isn’t good enough. It leaves the story messy and unfinished, the threads still hanging loose and beginning to fray. There is an end, but there must, too, be an after, and Lydia just needs to get her hands on it.

“Can you hear me?” she asks. Today, she is holding an arrow- Yesterday, a ring Allison had once worn. Every piece means something, and that something will mean everything. “Say something. Please. Please say something.”

She runs her index finger and her thumb along the carbon shaft. “Can you hear me?” she repeats.