the foxhole's court

Neil didn’t know how he could have ever forgotten this.

Hi love, welcome to the aftg fandom. Here are two starter packs, one for andreil and jerejean respectively. There’s a one for renison coming, and if you go to our tumblr on a webpages we have a tab of master lists that were updating for you to check out :) (sorry the links are ugly, I’m away from home but I will update them later) - Fall

https://aftgficlibrary.tumblr.com/post/168207633539/andreil-starter-pack

Six of Crows Character Portraits 4/6

86: “Perhaps you’ll take me out one day — or do I have to make an appointment?” (I combined this with a prompt from foxpaws10 from ages ago based on this post, and I kind of warped both of your prompts i hope this is still okaaay basically it’s doctor andrew and that’s all u need to know)

His morning is a string of disasters that begins with covering the ER in the Sunday rush of hypochondriac elderly and fussy children. It’s one long stretch of kicked over paint buckets, a mess you can’t ignore, splattering the walls and getting on his shoes.

Andrew chose surgery almost entirely for the distance of it, the sterility of a room with a slab of meat, a tray of knives, and a sickness he can actually cut out.

He’s a doctor because he can be, and patients sometimes like that he doesn’t speak a word to them, like silence equals genius.

He likes that there are some patients that come into the ER unconscious and leave the OR unconscious, and all he has is a problem and a ticking clock. He always solves the problem. He thinks maybe it’s because he is one.

The sinking ship of his Sunday in the emergency room goes from slippery to debilitating with one patient.

Two showy ER doctors with their lab coats off and their sleeves rolled up go into the private room they’ve cordoned off, and they both come out looking pinched in the face with their stethoscopes clenched in their fists.

“He’s a fucking disaster,” one of them says, leaning up against the information desk with his eyes still pulling back to the closed door of the room.

“I know. I thought, I dunno. That the news was exaggerating.”

Andrew tilts his head and listens without making any move to leave his post, filling out inane charts as illegibly as he can.

One of the residents chances a look at him and Andrew makes a point of catching him. The guy startles, then juts his chin.

“Maybe you’ll get along with him, Minyard. He’s as crazy as you.”

“You’ve mistaken the hospital for a playground,” Andrew says mildly. “Give me his chart.”

“What?”

“His chart.”

He looks at his friend, mouth slack, and then the one holding the chart holds it out like a dirty rag.

“He’s Boston’s starting striker,” he stage whispers. Andrew takes the clipboard and ignores him, scanning the details. “We’re not supposed to let any patients know.”

“That Neil Josten is causing a scene ten feet away from them?” he says, and the men titter uncomfortably. “Why should he get the luxury of privacy?”

“How did you—“

“The news is available to everyone, Bryant, you fuck.” He rounds the desk and makes for the closed and shuttered room, dropping the chart in the receptacle outside.

“He shouldn’t be allowed to practice,” someone says behind him, and then someone else, softer, scornful: “surgeons”.

Andrew wrings the door knob and finds himself abruptly face to face with the singular most swollen person he’s ever seen. He’s obviously bolting for it, his gown gaping at the neck and someone’s stolen shoes jammed on. Andrew scans the defiant face, the shock of red hair, the near invisible trail of blood from an incorrectly removed IV.

“Sit down.”

“No.”

Andrew watches Neil Josten— and it is him, one of the handful of strikers on Boston’s team and certainly the most newsworthy — size him up. His eyes run the same circuit Andrew’s would if he were looking to fight his way out: door, threat, surreptitiously behind him for a weapon, back again.

“I’ll drug you,” Andrew says simply. Neil’s good eye, the one that isn’t purpling, goes narrow.

“Are you allowed to say that?”

sure i’ll write abt each of the foxes’ povs but like…. this would get 2 big so here’s dan’s!! i’ll probably make this a 6-parter in ao3 or here idk. if i do here’s the link for ao3

i based this off this post from nora’s extra content

Thefirst time Dan had seen the cousins, she’d been reasonably hopeful. She wasn’ta hopeful person per se; she’d had to fight tooth and nail for everything shehad of positive in her life and had learned prayers helped only in spirits.Still, the Foxes had been in need of a better defense line and the cousins wereoffering exactly that. Dan had been willing to see past their risky files if itmeant a chance to help the Foxes up the rankings and out of rock bottom.

Ittook only a few minutes for Andrew to extinguish that hope inside her. He hadn’tbeen aware of her presence on the booth behind him but he’d hit all the rightspots past her defenses. And it wasn’t just because he’d hurt her; it was becauseAndrew honestly didn’t care about the game or about getting lifted up by a teamthat needed it. He was high risk even then when she didn’t know the extent ofhis apathy and the insanity his meds could raise out of him. Still, Dan hadgotten past her prejudices and accepted the cousins into her lineup. She hadn’teven accepted the team’s insistence of calling them monsters until halfwaythrough their first season.

Andrewhad been quiet throughout most of the year, even towards Nicky and Aaron. Itwas a silent agreement between the upperclassmen and him; Andrew would not turnhis blades in their direction unless they gave him a reason to. In Andrew’smind, that meant his teammates needed to keep quiet about his temporarywithdrawals during games and occasional violence. Dan had thought she could runthe team like that. Nicky was a decent peacemaker and could convince Aaron totry. The Foxes were slowly making their way through the ranks. It had beenyears but still Dan couldn’t completely understand why Andrew had chosen thatmoment, in the exact middle of their season, to act out against theupperclassmen. Giving Matt drugs at Columbia had only been the first thing hedid to change her mind about him. She still remembered what Matt looked like inthose first few days he started using again. She’d never forget the desperatelook he had whenever he’d come down from the high. She’d never forget Andrew’sapathetic face as he watched it.

Itseemed incomprehensible to her that Neil Josten—who had experienced all thingsbad in his entire life and was just now letting himself choose the good stuff—hadchosen to be with someone like that. He asked them time and time again not tocall Andrew a monster, saying that the upperclassmen didn’t know who he reallywas under his mask, but was left speechless whenever Dan retorted that was how Andrewwanted them to see him. It wasn’t like Dan thought Andrew was being cruel toNeil, because she trusted Neil not to let himself get into that situation—and Andrewhad gone through too much abuse in his life to flip sides. But Andrew was notgood enough for Neil Josten. Neil needed something solid to lean against, not abodyguard who’d fight his battles for him and fuck him to let out frustration.Dan had asked Neil before why he kept by Andrew’s side when he knew Andrew didn’tlove him. Neil had simply smiled softly and said she wouldn’t understand it,which made Dan even more furious about the entire situation.

Some remake covers of the wonderful All For the Game series by Nora Sakavic! I’ve done these as a book cover project for my second year of university. If you haven’t read them yet, I highly recommend. :)

They usually meet on the roof after Neil’s afternoon lecture. (It’s a brief reprieve after listening to the professor’s monotone drone for two hours.) But one day Andrew’s not waiting for him. 

When he opens the door to the rooftop, it’s empty and Neil checks his phone (it’s actually charged this time) but there’s no text from Andrew.

Not that he’s really that surprised, but still.

Neil ends up finding him buried under covers in his room. All the shades are drawn and he doesn’t notice Neil’s knock which is odd too.

Andrew only stirs when Neil sits on the edge of the bed and gently pulls back the covers. Andrew startles at first, but noticing Neil he just groans and the pile of blankets shifts.

“Don’t you know a quarantine when you see one?”