#but i probably would have thought that about my current manager if id seen a pic of him prior to interviewing. i guess???

[carcarrot]

do i really want to make individual drinks again

[summerlycoris]

Is it really a birthday party if you wake up in a hospital?

Chapter 5- Tell me, are you bold enough to reach for love?

Previous chapter- Tumblr Link.

Current chapter- AO3 link.

Authors note- tw for child death, gore, and discovery of a body. If these topics aren't good for you, probably skip this chapter honestly.

If you decide to read the chapter, but want to skip the body discovery/ gorey sections, skip from ‘Nobody wanted to go check Monty Golf.’ to ‘They went up to try Chica’s Bakery, just in case.’

And from ‘Andy would have looked through those crates more, until she heard May scream.’ to ‘You should’ve seen the way it looked at me, Andy.’

And (a minor one) from ‘Nobody laughed at this.’ to ‘Andy had checked her bag’.

The scenes aren't worse than what's in some of the Pizzaplex books (from my knowledge.) but might still not be everyone's cup of tea.

________

This place looked a bit like a cake rescue, before the rescue. All collapsed in the middle, and the sides felled in.

Am I really crazy enough to do this? Andy asked herself. She was standing off in an undeveloped area near the Mega Pizzaplex under the cover of trees. Armed with a shovel she'd nicked from Sam's shed, a flashlight from the emergency kit, Sam's old faz wrench… and a fake ID for later, stored in her backpack. It wasn't too late to turn around, and just lie that the animatronics had already been scrapped or something.

She could see headlights behind her. Trev's old beater-up pickup pulled up maybe 2 meters away, chugging like it was on its last legs. But then, it had been on its last legs ever since Trev was learning to drive in it. Too late now- they're here.

The car turned off, as did the lights. She shined her flashlight on the front, and grinned when she saw the license plate covered up. She was sure there was extra surveillance here now- they'd be stupid not to, after a kid nearly died exploring this hellhole. The pigs would probably be out in force. Andy flicked off her flashlight and let the star filled sky illuminate them.

The doors opened up, and out got two of her mates from her highschool years- Trevor and Maybelle. All clad in hoodies and thick gloves. Perfect.

In the dark, she could only tell Trev from May due to build- Trev was like a beanstalk that hadn't stopped growing. He still had the same old pasty-white face, speckled with zits, that he had as a teen. Not the strongest guy- and a weird choice for a potentially deadly mission. Except he'd explored here previously- even managed to spend the night and live. He knew the place like the back of his hand- having worked here with his old boyfriend, Jason, before they replaced the human staff with bots. He was perfect for this job, in Andy's eyes.

May had filled out instead of up. And that's why Andy asked for her help. May was all muscle- she'd been a brilliant center on the football team, and she'd been a star on Andy's roller derby team. She could handle just about anything thrown at her. Her black face made her amber eyes stand out. She had a faint British accent- her parents having moved here when she was little. In retrospect, that's probably why they'd gotten along so well. May was probably one of the few teens in Washington County who hadn't been to the pizzaplex before. She was a fresh face to this- she didn't make a hobby of exploring old abandoned buildings. Andy trusted her with her life.

"Hey Dee, great night for it, huh?" Trev said, grabbing a crowbar and a torch from the cargo bed. He handed them to May, then pulled out a baseball bat, backpack, and a second torch for himself. Man, maybe I should have brought a ladder or something. Andy shook off that thought- too late now- and greeted her friends.

"Thanks for showing up, guys… this would've sucked eggs without you." She grabbed her old push-bike, and shoved it into the cargo bed. Trev's pickup had a pretty generous cargo bed- but only had two doors instead of 4. She knew from experience it could get squishy in the back, but since she'd left her car back in Salvador… she was lucky that the Pizzaplex had been within riding distance- twenty minutes away?

Trev and May could have picked her up from her Mom's house, but Andy needed her own way around- in case something changed at the hospital, and in case Trev was too drunk to drive her later.

"No probs, Dee. It's great hanging out with you, just wish you'd picked a less… this spot." Said May.

Andy laughed. "Yeah, me too. After we crack some heads and get some chips, I'll buy you both some booze, K? Just like we planned." They nodded. This trip had taken a few days to plan out. Now it was go time. They made their way over to the front of the Pizzaplex.

Except the front entrance- the one Cassie had taken- was now completely boarded off. Not with newspaper, but with barbed wire fences around it and wooden boards over any holes in the windows. All of them couldn't help but take notice of it. Andy also caught notice of a familiar, too-small, red bike. With police tape all over it.

I guess it doesn't matter, she can't use it anymore anyway.

Trev made a suggestion: "In the past, I was able to get in through the fire escape up on the third floor. They may not have sealed it off yet, if other explorers kept on the down low about it."

So they went off to give it a try. And he was kinda right- they hadn't sealed off the stair access well- they'd put barbed wire fencing all around the stairwell. It extended maybe 30 meters away from the stairs. However, there was a small section where the barbed wire had been cut away- just big enough to let a person climb over, one at a time. Someone had clearly been here before them. Andy could hear Trev bark out a laugh- “See! Told you guys!” Before they climbed over it, one at a time, and up the stairs.

FazEnt had cheaped out sealing the doorway into the pizzaplex- just putting "danger- keep out!" Tape over the door. It had already been ripped off, and the door had been pried open prior.

"Well, I don't have to use this yet." Said May, holding out her crowbar.

Trev walked ahead and pushed open the door fully. "Ladies first, "he joked. Andy jabbed her elbow lightly into him as she passed, while May giggled.

They all cracked on their flashlights, now that they were less likely to be spotted. Then they walked down the fire escape stairwell until they reached the door leading to the prize counter area. The stairwell had been… well, messed up. But the prize counter area had been really messed up. Some of the floor had collapsed, leaving a ring of floor near the walls that was still kinda stable. Andy sighed, and said "I'll go first." Trev and May nodded, as Andy scooted along slowly, leaning against the wall. She got to the other side, and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't heard it cracking, or felt any warping. "Alright, it felt okay- May, you next!"

"Me? Why me?" May protested.

"Because it's still stable, if it cracked under Trev, we'd have to leave you behind." Andy was confident Trev could jump the gap, even if the floor cracked beneath May. She knew May wouldn't make the jump. "Come on May- do it for the booze!"

May huffed. "Fine- but you better get me some expensive shit. Something real posh, Dee!" Andy laughed, and nodded, while May slowly inched her way around the hole. Then Trev went once May was over. Andy had been holding her breath, hoping no one would fall through.

So it was a relief when they were all at the prize counter proper. It, like the rest of the pizzaplex, had seen better days. All the plushies and prizes were gone, except those too damaged to justify risking jail time for.

God, Andy had hated this place. In its heyday it was filled with screaming kids fighting over who'd get the last Freddy plushie before restock. Kids winning instruments and proceeding to make it everyone else's problem. (My ears will never recover from that kid who won the microphone- and decided to death metal screech into it right next to me.) And, of course, a little girl crying and beating her fists against the floor because she didn't have enough tickets to get the giant Roxy plushie.

Well, at least I can save that memory for her twenty-first birthday. Thought Andy, focusing on what they'd have to do next. She let Trev lead the way, around the scenic route.

"Trust me, take one step out the prize counter roller doors, and you'd fall to your doom. The floor on the other side is completely gone. The door at the Superstar-cade, that's functional enough." Trev said. So they went through the less-damaged Superstar-cade. It'd taken some knocks- the arcade machines were knocked over, and there was some loose rubble from when the roof started to fall. But they weren't gonna fall to the lower floor just from walking through a door.

They'd made a plan of attack yesterday, including alternatives for if their way in or around the plex was blocked. The plan they had for entering through the prize counter was to beeline to the Atrium. They'd probably find Roxy, maybe Sun, there. Then head over to that salon, because Cassie had said Chica was shut down in the bathrooms there. They'd get the chips out of the bots, one way or another, then they'd get outta dodge and get smashed.

A simple plan, really. Andy hoped it worked.

It was uneventful leaving the Superstar-cade. It was wrecked, smelled like something died there, (Yeah, my hopes and dreams.) And they had to fight the roller door to get to the Atrium.

Hoo boy, the Atrium.

Cassie had told Andy about how she couldn't remember what the Atrium was like- despite being found there. She'd been too out of it to take it in. And Andy was glad of that, because it would've broke the poor girls heart to see it:

The glass ceiling had completely collapsed when the earthquake hit, sending the lights running along the roof down with it. Water damage had ruined everything- the paint was peeling on anything that hadn't been knocked over. The showtime desk was just. Gone now. Must've fell apart when that section of the second floor balcony gave in. A lot of the balconies had fallen in, actually. The section in front of Mazercise, the one on the second floor that previously let you look into the Fazer Blast lobby… Guess FazEnt’s concrete was exactly as lackluster as the rumors said.

And the stage. The stage that Cassie had spent so many years staring up at in adoration. The stage that Andy had spent so many years avoiding, during those times Mom or Sam had forced her to be here.

It had completely lost its magic. The giant neon sign above it had fallen down on top, and shattered into scraps of tube lights. The rising platforms that would elevate its stars to shine over the audience would never rise again. Now it had collapsed underground. The holograms that would play between performances would never play again. It almost made Andy feel… sentimental over this dumb place.

She shook off that feeling, and asked her friends "Hey, has anyone seen a rabid dog anywhere? She could still be around here…"

They both shook their heads, and Trev spoke up. "I haven't seen any puppies recently, but I do know a way down to the first floor. Anybody wanna come with? We get to climb down a rope." He said that last bit like that was supposed to convince any doubters. Andy and May both agreed with a laugh.

Both the escalators were completely screwed in some way. The one nearest, in between the Superstar-cade and El Chips had disconnected from the top and crashed through the floor, leaving a gaping hole all the way down to the ground floor. The one furthest from them, near the Faz-cade, looked to be intact at a distance. But they couldn't get over there, because of the damage to the balcony where the showtime desk should've been. This was the same hole that made the prize counter roller doors off limits earlier. It only went through to the second floor, but just a one floor drop was as high as two regular floors in the Atrium.

In the end, the escalators' state didn't matter- there was a rope some previous explorers had tied to the menu sign outside El Chips. They'd tied knots in it at intervals, so it was easy-ish to climb down, and possible to climb back up through the hole where the escalators had been.

Trev first pulled the rope up, and tied their tools to the bottom of it. The crowbar, shovel, and bat went down first. Then Trev- to show how it was done. Andy and May watched as he scaled down all the way to the ground floor. "Thank god Trev warned us to wear thick gloves- can you imagine the ropeburn?" Andy said. May nodded. Andy went next, she wasn't afraid of heights or anything- but even she was scared of slipping off this rope. Falling ten meters… well at best she'd be stuck in a hospital bed. At worst she'd be stuck in a morgue.

She made it down, and shone her flashlight up the rope, to make it easier for May to climb down. Once they'd all touched ground, they grabbed their weapons and started looking around the Atrium. Sticking together, but checking anywhere they could see Roxy or Sun hiding.

They were of split minds whether to keep a low profile, or call out to the animatronics. May and Trev figured it'd get the job done quicker. Andy wanted to at least try to keep a low profile.

Cassie had sworn Roxy and Sun (though she'd called him ‘Eclipse’) were safe. But Trev had heard stories from others who had explored the pizzaplex that the animatronics were bloodthirsty and dangerous. Looking for anyone to take out their miserable new existences on. One teen had barely escaped Monty with her life. (‘Those could just be rumors though- I hadn't run into anyone when I'd been here. And it's hard to imagine Monty doing that.’ Trev had said during planning.)

And maybe the animatronics were safe. Maybe. But there was a chance the monstrous robot that had chased Cassie was still hanging around. And considering that it was almost perfectly functional… This was the reason Andy had brought Sam's shovel. She'd let the others know about it the other day, but they hadn't taken the danger it posed seriously.

’Look, if we make too much of a ruckus and they are aggressive? Then they have the chance to sneak up on us to pick us off one by one. And If we don't make a ruckus and don't find them? Then we can start yelling their names out, okay? I don't wanna have to explain any deaths, yeah?’

With that, they came to an agreement, and continued scoping out the Atrium, trying to be quiet. May and Andy turned off their flashlights, to save battery, and let Trev take the lead with his flashlight on.

They went up towards the stage, climbing over broken tables, chairs, and broken lights from the roof. In the middle of the Atrium, they could see a white cloth with the word ‘banned’ and a frowned face on it laid out, and some… rope netting and wooden planks on top? "The fuck? That's new…" Trev said.

"Maybe someone wanted somewhere soft to lay, while they watched the stars?" May suggested.

"Yeah? Then why bring the wood and ropes?" Trev asked.

"Guys, guys, I know what happened here…" Andy spread her arms wide. "... Purple Guy did it. This looks like the kinda spot where you could strangle some toddlers." She joked.

May laughed at her dumb statement. Trev rolled his eyes, and flashed Andy with the flashlight, blinding her for a second. "Hey, quit it!" Andy laughed.

"I thought you said we should keep a low profile." Trev joked. Then they heard something… flying nearby? They stopped joking around, and drew closer together. Keeping their makeshift weapons ready, looking out for whatever that was.

"It's probably Sun, he flies using a rope on his back." Andy said, mostly for May's benefit. She nodded, and they all checked the skies around where there was still a roof to hang from.

"Oh! I see him! Over there!" May had spotted him landing near the destroyed Monty golf sign, and pointed him out. Sun turned back towards the group, and let out a little noise that was surprisingly audible in the Atrium. He slinked down past the statue, running back towards kids cove.

"Oh for pete's sake, Sun!" Andy cried out. Was he really going to lead her on a wild goose chase? "Come on, let's go talk to him…" She said to her friends. They slowly made their way over towards kids cove, having to climb over all the rubble in the way again.

Once they got to kids cove, they noticed it was… surprisingly clean. Sure, the lighthouse had cracks through it, and the slide had fallen off. But all the rubble was swept to the side, and someone had clearly tried to redecorate the area. The Chica of the sea cutout had a piece of card paper with a big smiley face drawn on it, pasted over the top of Chica's water damaged face. There were banners with glitter glue recreations of the glamrock animatronics put up along the top of the wall, where previously there'd been posters of them celebrating a party.

They also noticed that there was no Sun there. Aw shit, he got away…

"Do you think he ran back to the daycare? Asked Trev.

"Probably. But there's lots of places here to hide, and we didn't hear a door opening…" said May.

They quickly scoped out the kids' cove. Checking inside the lighthouse, under the dock (Sun was just skinny enough that he could hide underneath.), and in the broken remains of the ship. Or had that already been broken? That doesn't matter. Thought Andy.

"No dice… he could have ran off to Monty Golf, or upstairs to the Bakery…"

Nobody wanted to go check Monty Golf. The hallway between Kids Cove and Monty Golf had some large, faded brown blood stains in the carpet, and more stains against the nearby staff door. Yeah, there's a good reason Cassie didn't ask me to save Monty…

"I heard this teen, Elijah, came here to smoke, and left with a mauled leg when Monty caught him. If he'd gone alone like he'd planned…" May said. That just reaffirmed that decision- no Monty Golf. They couldn't be sure he was actually r.i.p in the log ride.

They went up to try Chica’s Bakery, just in case. But it was completely blocked off, and looked undisturbed. A big pile of rubble in front of the doors to it. If the daycare attendant had come through this way, it would've been obvious.

So they went back to the roller door separating Kids Cove from the Daycare. It had been locked from the other side. Okay, that's a good sign…

Andy rolled her eyes. "Hey Sun, I'm here to drop off my kids! Let us in?" She yelled. She got no answer, and he didn't unlock the roller door. "Well fuck you too." She turned back to May. "Wanna unlock this with your master key?"

"Hell yeah!" May stepped up to the plate, and took a swing at the locking mechanism. It took a few hits, and some prying up of the door. But it eventually gave in. Crowbar, one. Roller door, none.

They climbed into the Daycare. It looked… well, it had clearly seen better days. But it had also seen worse days. There was rubble and damage to the walls, just like in the rest of the pizzaplex. But like Kids Cove, it'd gotten cleaned up. A lot of the rubble and… old endos? were stored in the old gift shop, and there were clear paths around to the daycares wooden doors. The wooden door was locked. They didn't bother asking Sun to open this door. Instead, just going through some of the destroyed netting that had separated the daycare playground from the daycare lobby.

Andy had never spent much time in the daycare. When they'd moved to La Verkin for Mom and Sam's jobs, she'd just turned fifteen a few months prior. The after school care offered through the Superstar Daycare ended after ten years old. The only times she'd seen the daycare, was when she'd pick up Cassie after Roller Derby or Football.

Honestly, she was kinda glad she never saw much of this place. Moving here and being a latchkey kid forced her into growing up. While Cassie, being only seven, going on eight, seemed to have been growing down while she was here. It really threw a wrench between us for a few years.

"Hey, Sun. You around at all?" There was no answer. "Really, Flatface? Gonna leave us hanging?" Andy did not want to have to climb through the playground. It'd be murder on her back.

"’Flatface?’ Well, aren't you rude." She heard a voice. But it didn't sound like Sun's. Maybe Moon was out instead- actually, that'd make sense…

Andy turned, and shone her flashlight on a figure, sitting atop the playground. He didn't start shrieking, so not Moon. Instead, he sat there calmly, with his head in his hands.

"Sorry young lady, but the pizzaplex is closed. You should really come back later. And your 'kids' are a little too old for the daycare. Perhaps they'd have more fun playing Fazer Blast? Once we reopen, of course."

Andy shrugged. "Yeah, we're not really here for daycare. I was just lying so you'd let us in" Sun scoffed audibly at that. "I do have a question for you though- wanna get out of this dump? Maybe make a little girl really hap-" He cut Andy off before she could finish her spiel.

"Excuse me? You come in here, insult me- and now you want me to leave with you? And this place isn't a dump- I need to get it ready for when we reopen!" If Sun could move his face, Andy was sure he'd be frowning. He stood up and nearly flew away, before Trev yelled out to him.

"It's great to stay positive, but you have to know that this place ain't ever reopening, Sun." Said Trev. "It's gonna be torn down soon. Too much damage has been done, and no one would ever come here again. Not after everything. Not after Jason." Trev whispered the last bit.

That made Sun's shoulders droop. "...Oh, I know that. It's just there's nothing else I can do, Trevor. A daycare attendant without a daycare is hardly attending to anything!"

Andy went to say something, but May put her hand on her shoulder. "Hey Dee? Let Trev do the talking, yeah? He's just… he's better at putting the past behind him." Andy sighed, and shut up. May was right, even if Andy hated to admit it. She was letting the memories and resentment around this place make her job harder.

"There's plenty you can do Sun- you could come with us!" Sun recoiled a bit, and Trev followed it up. "Dee here, she wants to repair you guys" (‘wants’ is the wrong word for it, but okay Trev.) "You know Andromeda? Her step dad used to be a techie here? She knows what she's doing. And if you went with her, once you were repaired you could help her sister, Cassie-"

"Cassie- is she okay? She was in such bad shape when I saw her last!" Sun said, as he swooped down off the playground and landed just in front of the group. Andy and May took a step back in surprise, though Trev seemed used to this. "She was barely breathing, and she was so confused!" He gestured frantically with his arms, almost like he was making up for his frozen face.

"Umm, yeah. She'll be alright. She's just in the hospital right now." Andy said, still a little shaken by the sudden change in demeanor.

Sun breathed (how?) A sigh of relief. "Oh thank heavens, she's being looked after. I felt so useless that night… after she saved us, too. Sun and Moon were in such misery before she fixed them… I should have kept her here with me…"

Andy had heard a little of this story- Cassie had fixed Sun somehow. She hadn't gone into much details, only that she'd been flown across the daycare in his arms, and that she'd thought it was cool and a little scary. 'Like a flying fox.' She always has her priorities in order…

Sun stood up straight, taller than even Trev when they weren't leaning or sitting, and said to Andy "I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier." They offered a hand for Andy to shake. "My name is Eclipse. I'm sorry for calling you rude earlier- with both your parents being so busy when you were a teen, who could have possibly taught you any better?"

Andy was left speechless, while May burst out laughing, and Trev fought to keep a straight face. "A- are you serious, or are you messing with me?!" She probably would've hit Sun- no, Eclipse with her shovel if Trev hadn't put his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm being completely serious! Children do best when they have a caregiver they can rely on." His head spun in a circle, around his neck joint. Andy still wasn't sure if he was messing with her or not. He retracted his hand when he realized Andy wasn't going to be polite and shake. "I'll go with you. It won't be the same as it was here, but at least I'll get to help a child again!"

"Ugh, whatever. Just stay still so I can get your chips." Andy stepped up to him while pulling out Sam's faz-wrench to shut them down. Eclipse bounced back on the ball of his foot (and on the end of his busted leg.)

"Wait, what? I thought you were going to take us home and repair us? Not scrap us!"

Andy groaned. "I'm not trying to scrap you. But if the police stop us and see your endo in the car, there's gonna be some hard questions. Hard questions that won't happen if I have your personality and memory chips in my pocket instead!"

Eclipse still seemed hesitant, keeping his distance.

"Actually- Eclipse, Dee- how about we have Eclipse come with us, and help us find Roxy and Chica? We can then get their chips out later." Trev asked. "You could see how we save the others, so you know we'll keep our word." He addressed Eclipse. "And we could get some help finding the others- the sooner we finish here, the sooner we can have fun, after all." He addressed Andy and May.

"That sounds like a good plan- anything to get out of here faster!" May chimed in.

"What do you think? Dee? Eclipse?"

They were both silent for a second. Andy thought this could work. But also Eclipse could just refuse to give up his chips at the end, too.

Eclipse spoke up first- "I'll help you find the others. Roxy and Chica… they may need completely new endos. Can you really fix them?"

"Uh, yeah. I've been studying robotics at college, I reckon I can fix you guys- might even get some credit from the prof for doing this…"

If they try to skip out at the very end, I'll just take them down by force.

"Okay, so it's decided? Are we all good?" Asked May.

"Yes, if you want to find the others, Chica's the nearest to us. She's just in the break room, behind the food court."

"How do you know that, Eclipse?" Asked Trev.

"I was talking to her maybe fifteen minutes ago. She should still be there if we hurry. Please follow me- but be careful! It's quite dangerous!"

Andy sighed, and they all followed Eclipse as he led them towards Salads and Sides.

________

The food court was luckily fairly clear of debris, due to the second floor somehow staying upright. But it creaked worryingly, holding up the rubble from the third floor collapse. They avoided walking underneath it until they got near salads and sides, where they stuck near the wall and walked quickly. It must've been the only door safe to walk through, or Eclipse would've led them elsewhere.

Andy knew from past experience that these doors had once been locked- employees only. But now the one they were headed towards swung freely, and they were able to go in. Trev went ahead and held the door open, jokingly saying "Ladies and attendants first." This time without getting an elbow to the side.

The walk down the corridor towards the stairs leading down was fairly uneventful. They followed Eclipse through the wrecked area, towards a place Andy had been once before- the staff break room. Completely destroyed, tables on their sides. Chairs thrown around. This looked less like earthquake damage and more like a tornado rolled through.

Sam had brought her here once, when they first moved here. On a tour of the place. ‘This is where I'm going to be having lunch every shift, girls.’

She'd held Cassie's hand tightly, because Cassie had seen Chica walking out the other door as they walked in, and had turned to try and follow her.

... And as Andy followed Eclipse into the break room, she saw Chica walking out the other door. Until Chica stopped. And stared at them. She squawked out something, in a metallic screech, then stumbled towards them like a zombie.

"Chica, you good?" Asked Trev. Andy put her arm out, and forced everyone backwards towards the door.

Everyone except Eclipse, who they'd followed in. "Eclipse, come here now." She whispered. She remembered what Cassie had told her- how Chica had tried to grab her, chasing her around the salon and bakery. She wasn't sure if she would target other animatronics, or just humans she saw as intruders.

Eclipse did not 'come here now.' Instead, he walked over to Chica. "Chica, they may not be employees, but they are welcome here. They're my guests! Their names are Trevor, Andromeda, and…" he trailed off, looking at May.

"Oh, uh, sorry. My name is May. Hi." She said, waving at Chica.

Chica stopped walking near Eclipse, and seemed to think for a second. Then that second turned into a while. Andy was only sure she hadn't powered down, because her eyelids would try to blink periodically.

Is her personality or memory chip damaged? Or is it something easier to replace, like her processor? Andy could figure it out once she saw the chips.

Chica also seemed to be missing her voice box somehow. Had it… fallen out of her endo? Her face plating was busted enough for that to be a possibility. The noises she made now seemed to be from her servos and joints screaming with misuse.

Chica started up again, after deliberating over it. Another squawk of machinery, but it didn't sound as… angry as last time. More pensive.

She walked over to Andy, and Andy backed into Trev, nearly falling over him. "Hey, umm, you stay back now…" She clutched her shovel closer, preparing to strike. She couldn't lie and say Chica didn't scare her- even busted up like this, Chica was taller than Andy. And at least twice her weight.

But Chica stopped just in front of her, only remaining arm at her side. Instead of clobbering Andy over the head or something, she scanned Andy's face with her eyes. The blue light took away Andy's night vision, and made spots dance over her eyes with how comparatively bright it was. "Ow, dude really?"

Eclipse chimed in from behind Chica, putting his hand on her shoulder pad. "Chica, that won't work right now- the servers are down."

Andy rubbed her eyes, as Chica stood there, processing. Like before, it took her a while. It left Andy scuffing her shoes on the tiles in suspense. Another metallic squawk- this time sounding like a command? Then Chica grabbed Andy by her hoodie and dragged her upwards, towards her face.

It happened so much quicker than Andy had expected. She was dragged up onto her tiptoes, and panicked. She could hear her friends startle, and see Eclipse trying to pull on Chicas shoulder.

But she still had something heavy in her hands. The shovel.

She swung it into what must have been Chicas midsection. She couldn't build much momentum, but just enough to get Chica to let go and back up a few paces, nearly knocking Eclipse over. Andy caught her footing, as May ran up between her and Chica, holding the crowbar firmly in both hands.

Chica was hunched over. Andy could see some extra denting in what little plating Chica still had near her midsection. Good. "Do that again, and I'll hit you again!" Andy yelled. She hoped she didn't sound as scared as she sounded in her head. The shovel shook in her hands.

Trev grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her backwards. "Not helpful, Dee." Andy wanted to bite back at him, about how Chica had started it. Except Chica let out an ear-splitting screech and ran towards May, reaching with her remaining arm wildly.

Except May was ready. With all the grace of a baseball player (despite never playing on a baseball team.), May lined up her shot and hit Chica in the head with the crowbar, denting what faceplate remained on Chica and sending her sprawling to the ground, spasming. May stood over her, and raised the crowbar above her head, ready for the coup de grâce.

Except Eclipse threw himself on top of Chica. "No- no! Please stop. Please- she doesn't know what she's doing!"

Andy scoffed at that claim. Chica clearly knew she was attacking people. Eclipse looked at her, would've probably glared if his eyes could glare.

"We've been alone for so long, and without access to the servers… She thinks you're intruders, because most people who come here are! She doesn't know how to deal with customers anymore."

Andy wasn't sure they could be considered ‘customers’.

Chica's servos whirred underneath Eclipse, as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. He sat besides her, with his hands on her shoulders to restrain her.

Chica managed to spit out another mangled cry, before powering down.

"Oh Chica…" Eclipse shook her a bit, to see if she'd start up again. "I'll need to get you to the recharge station again, where's the nearest one…?"

Meanwhile, Andy thanked May quietly for helping stop Chica, and thanked Trev for keeping her back. (She didn't want to piss off Eclipse more- hitting Chica once while grabbed could be argued as self defense- hitting her afterwards like she'd wanted to? That'd probably get her forcibly ejected from the building via angry daycare attendant.)

Chica's predicament got her thinking about something Sam had told her once, during daddy-daughter day.

Sam was the kind of step-dad to say things like ‘No matter what, you'll always be my daughter to me.’ Which had pissed Andy off as a kid- I have a dad who loves me already, thank you very much. But nowadays she could appreciate that he was trying. It was just… too late to admit it.

He had taught her a little about how these things were programmed. They had a few different modes, for different scenarios.

The usual performance focused, customer-facing mode. Showtime mode. Child friendly and affectionate. Great for birthday parties, or for leading a lost kid back to their parents, or for jamming out in front of a crowd of adoring kids and teens.

Then there was security mode. For when someone was behaving badly, or refusing to leave the premises. Way less affectionate. More likely to put you in a headlock and frog-march you from the building. Andy knew this from experience.

Showtime mode was programmed into their main personality chip, located in their head. Security mode was located in their upper back, in a spare chip for autonomous reactions like blinking, hi-fives, and walking around. Their personality could be tempered a bit by their memory chips- which could "remember" customers in the database, and share what info they pick up about customers with other animatronics over a network. That's how all the Roxy's in the US of A know that Andy's a troublemaker, and that Cassie likes carrot cake. Surprisingly sophisticated programming. And so much of it still has the world stumped.

’Why would these guys even have a security mode?’ Andy had asked back when she was 16. Daddy-daughter day. Cassie and Gregory were playing nearby, in the room below the Pizzaplex, that looked like a maintenance room. Jemima was sitting at the desk working on Monty. Fixing up his faceplating after some ratbag kid decided to hit him over the head with a golf club. She'd just started her shift, and Sam was about to finish his. He'd take Andy, Cassie, and Gregory home with him.

‘Mostly, to help keep staff safe. If someone turns up with a weapon, you don't want a human to take the hit- we're not as replaceable as a robot is. Or as durable. These guys can take a bullet to the face and still keep running.’ He continued working on Chica. She was sitting in front of him, with her back towards him while he put her personality chip back in. She was staring at Andy vacantly, occasionally blinking. Super creepy. She thought.

‘Wow, that's morbid.’ Andy said, resting her head in her hands. This place was super boring, but at least they were going to go home soon. As soon as Sam finished with Chica.

Speaking of Chica.

"Hey Eclipse, do you think she's stuck in security mode or something? She could have had her personality chip damaged." Even before she'd gotten up close and personal with a crowbar, Chica had clearly suffered some head trauma. To be honest, she looked kinda… crushed.

Eclipse looked at Andy, then back to Chica. "It's a possibility… She hasn't been herself recently. Even before the earthquake. None of us have been quite ourselves…"

Andy sighed, and walked around behind Chica. Eclipse went to throw himself between Andy and Chica, until she clarified. "I'm just gonna check her chips. I'll need them anyway, but if they're busted, I'll need to transfer what I can to some spares." She hoped there'd be some spares down in parts and services. And that they could still go to parts and services. At that point, he backed off a bit.

She was able to find the right section for these chips. The personality chip and memory chip were in the head, near the junction where the head meets the neck. The memory chip looked okay, but the personality one was hard to remove- it'd been bent in its port, and was nearly stuck. Andy wasn't sure she'd get anything useful off this. But she'd try. Both of these chips were labeled with Chica's name, and their function. They had a little guitar scrawled onto them. Sam's goofy little idea, from when he’d joined the tech squad.

Andy also took the spare chip out of Chica's back, too- she may be able to use some parts of it to fix Chica's personality chip. And so the old Chica endo couldn't start walking around again later. Like the previous ones, it was labeled by name and function. She put all these chips in the front pocket of her backpack.

Eclipse watched sadly, as Chica was put away in the bag. Her old, broken body was left sitting on the floor. Even if she regained power, she'd never get up again. "You're going to fix her, right?" He whispered.

Andy looked at him, and started to feel weird. They're just robots. Really advanced robots. But robots. So why do I feel so bad… She shook herself out of it, and answered. "Yeah, I'm gonna fix her. She'll need a new personality chip- do you think parts and service are still accessible?" It was only accessible through elevators, as far as Andy knew. One in the stage, and four in Rockstar Row. There was no guarantee any of those elevators would be functional.

He was silent for a bit, thinking about it. "Moon remembers hearing from Officer Vanessa that the elevator in Roxy's green room worked. The one on the stage would've worked… if it hadn't fallen in when the ceiling fell on it."

Andy thought about how this would affect their plan. It mainly just meant adding an extra stop at the end- after getting Roxy's chips. If they went earlier, ported over Chicas personality chip, then Roxy had similar damage. Well, then they'd have to go there all over again. Better to get all their ducks in a row first.

She told her friends, and Eclipse, this plan. They agreed to it, Eclipse reluctantly.

"Okay, Eclipse. Do you know where Roxy is by any chance?" Asked May. She had relaxed her grip on the crowbar, holding it back in one hand. But he seemed wary of her.

"Umm, yes- but you have to promise not to hurt her! She's taken so much damage over the past few weeks already…"

May looked sad. "Aww, I won't hurt her Eclipse… unless she hurts my friends first. But if she's nice then I can be even nicer!" May said, putting her hand over her heart. Andy knew May didn't like to hurt people. She could appreciate the risk of games and sports, but wasn't the type to like getting into fistfights. But she also wasn't going to let herself or her friends suffer. That's why Andy trusted her with her life.

Eclipse still didn't look completely reassured. But he did respond where he’d seen Roxy last- "last I saw, she was at the Glamrock beauty salon. She's been in a bit of a slump for the past few months… though lately she's been trying to clean up the place for reopening."

Ah, so Eclipse has been spreading his delusion to the other animatronics. Cool.

"I'll lead the way!" He said. He then looked back at Chica, and tried to shut her eyes. It was a sweet (?), if useless gesture- Chica no longer had any eyelids to shut. He just ended up pulling what remained of her eyelashes down. "Oh…" Eclipse's shoulders sagged, and it didn't matter that he had a flat, frozen face- he was clearly miserable. Andy felt strangely guilty- though I haven't done anything wrong- get a grip Dee!

Trev grabbed his shoulders, and gave him a quick hug. That seemed to help a little bit, as Eclipse stood up, and started leading them to the glamrock beauty salon.

________

Andy wasn't surprised at the state of the glamrock salon. Cassie had described it in great detail. (Even after Andy had begged her to please just skip to how she broke her legs already.) Cassie had also described Roxy in great detail. (Andy didn't even bother trying to get Cassie to skip the Roxy monologue. Just timed it on her watch- it went on for about five minutes!)

Yeah, Cassie's description was… very accurate. Andy thought, as she looked at Roxy through the busted window. Roxy was busy on the stage at the end of the salon, trying to clean up the rubble laying on top of it. Roxy was, well… she was a total wash-up now. Andy had to hold back her laughter. Oh Roxy, you went from being an inauthentic, focused-grouped mess of a character, to just being a mess.

Maybe the original Roxanne Wolf ("Foxy's younger cousin, from out of town!" Mom had called her.) Might have been authentic. Might. Mom had helped workshop the character, when she still worked at FazEnt. Cassie had loved her straight out the gate, while Andy had thought she was way too girly.

‘Mãinha, she's supposed to be a tomboy?! She has crazy long hair! It'll get tangled in everything!’

Eclipse started walking into the salon, shaking Andy from her old memories.

Roxy stopped trying to brush away the rubble, and turned towards Eclipse's footsteps. "Eclipse? Who else is there with you?" Andy took a shallow breath- she hadn't realized they'd been noticed from the distance.

"Good evening, Roxy! I brought some new friends with me- their names are Trevor, May, and Andromeda." Eclipse turned around to them, and saw they were still hanging around outside the salon. "Well, come on in! Don't be rude now!"

Roxy pressed herself backwards, was she trying to blend into the rubble? "Eclipse- the salon isn't ready yet. I'm… not ready yet…" the last bit came out in a whimper. She crossed her left arm over her chest. Then her ears twitched forward when she heard Trev step on some broken mirror shards. Him and May had started walking forward when Eclipse called them. Andy had stayed where she was. "Hey! Didn't you hear me? This place isn't ready! Now leave, before I make you." She growled out.

May backed up, and looked towards Andy worriedly, while Trev froze in place. Andy waited to see if Trev would work his magic, like he had with Eclipse earlier. But he stayed silent- he doesn't want to find out what Roxy means by ‘before I make you.’

Andy sighed and spoke up instead. Doing her best to bite back any insults. "Roxanne, no one's here to judge you or anything. We're here to fix you, okay?" She didn't have that magical soothing voice that Trev had, but hopefully she hadn't sounded too upset with this place.

Roxy turned her head, away from Andy's friends and towards Andy. "You. You were banned from the Raceway. Why are you here?" She snarled, slowly slinking forward.

Andy shivered. Roxy, like all the animatronics here, could be very intimidating when she wanted to be.

She knew from experience what it felt like to have Roxy pounce on you.

"Yeah. I was banned- back when this place was still open. Pretty sure it'd lapsed by now." She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She clenched her shovel with both hands. "I'm not here to cause trouble- I'm Andromeda, but you know my little sister better. She was one of your biggest fans. And she asked me to come get you out of here."

Roxy stopped slinking forward, standing near the doorway of the salon. Eclipse had slowly placed himself in between Andy and Roxy. Roxy tilted her ears toward Andy, waiting to hear.

"Yeah, my sister- Cassie- she promised she'd fix you or something. But she's too busy laid up in hospital to do that. So I'm here, with Trev and May. I know how to fix you- learnt some stuff from Sam. You remember Sam Mathers?" Roxy stayed stock still, arms extended. Andy hoped that was a 'yes'. "Make my job easy- come over and let me have your chips, please? I'll make you a new endo- yours is kinda… wrecked."

Roxy probably would've looked her over, if she still had eyes. Instead, she thought for a bit, and asked "What about Chica? And Monty? And Eclipse?"

Since she seemed less 'I'll forcibly kick you out of my salon' and more 'might give you my time of day', May and Trev had turned, and started slowly coming back. Making sure to make noises on their way back, so Roxy didn't get spooked and wheel on them

"I'm two steps ahead of you, Wolfie. I already have Chica's chips. Eclipse will give me his once we're leaving the plex, right Eclipse?" He nodded to confirm. So Andy continued. "All I need is your chips, and to go get some spares from parts and services. So, do you want out of here?"

Roxy twitched. Aww shit, probably shouldn't have called her 'Wolfie'. Andy thought. But she also thought that she'd done a pretty good job of not being insulting, all things considered. Hopefully Roxy would've heard the restraint coming through her words.

"I'm not giving you my chips. Not yet-"

Urgh, really Roxy? I don't want to fight you-

"-But I will go with you, to get the spares. Maybe we'll even find Monty." Roxy stood up straight and walked to Eclipse, who put his arm out for her.

That left the human trio in an awkward place. "... Do you two know Monty's probably dead? He got electrocuted, from what I heard." Trev asked.

Eclipse and Roxy both snapped their heads to look (or attempt to, in Roxy's case. She had to snap her whole body.) at Trev.

"... No, I didn't know that." Eclipse said. "Is he in the Monty Golf bayou? We could probably fish him out and fix him-"

Oh goddammit.

Andy stepped in, before this got out of control. "How about we go to parts and services first? It's not far from here, anyway- Rockstar Row has an entrance just near Roxy Raceway. It'd be better to swing by Monty Golf on the way back, because we'll be leaving through the fire escape near there."

Andy hoped that Monty really was dead, and would make a liar out of her. Not because she had any particular grudge against him, but because

Cassie hadn't asked for him to be rescued. And

She didn't want to spend more time here than necessary.

(Look, if you're that lacking in redeeming qualities that even my bleeding-heart sister can't be bothered begging for your life, then you fucked up somewhere.)

Andy's only regret is that she was lying through her teeth in front of May and Trev. They knew how Monty went out- because she'd told them what Cassie had told her- ‘It was an accident! I just needed to open the door because he was chasing me. I didn't know it'd turn on the lights! I thought he was waterproof…’ Neither of them looked happy about this, but they didn't say anything, which Andy was grateful for.

Roxy gave a response: "If you're going to parts and services, my elevator is still working. I've taken it down there recently to look for parts." She looked like she had tried to repair herself recently- she'd welded a piece of metal to her neck, to help keep her head upright. It meant she couldn't turn her head anymore, and had to turn her whole body to theoretically look at Andy.

"Yep, let's go there first. Um, do you want to lead the way?" Andy knew how to get to Rockstar Row- but Roxy might have a faster way. Plus, she'd know how to avoid any damage on the way there.

Roxy put her hand on her hip, then started walking. "Okay- all of you- follow me."

________

The trip to parts and service was fairly uneventful. They had heard something clambering around in Fazer Blast on the way there, making weird roaring noises. But they hurried past that, after reassuring Roxy that it wasn't really Freddy anymore.

’It's just his body, and that spare chip for autonomous reactions. Can't save what isn't there anymore.’

Somehow, they all managed to squeeze into the elevator for one trip. It wasn't comfortable, especially since Andy was pressed into Eclipse’s back. But it worked enough to get them all downstairs.

The elevators opened up into a surprisingly intact room- the glass in the containment tube, and separating the nearby rooms had shattered. But other than that everything was stable.

Andy hadn't seen parts and services for years. And it had clearly been renovated. The big containment tube in the middle hadn't originally been here. Neither had the cages off to the side. The only familiar places were the small rooms to the side. Where technicians previously worked on the animatronics.

She'd seen some shelving, some boxes- all with parts inside. She'd been shown that spare eyes, hands- even full limbs- were kept around here. And she'd seen him pull out some chips to program for a spare Chica endo. Just in case the first Chica got completely ruined, and they needed a quick replacement for her.

Andy didn't know all the FazEnt trade secrets- their robots were so advanced- it was like everyone else was playing catch up. But she should be able to use the computer terminal at the containment tube for porting over Chica's personality to a new chip. Even if that terminal looked like it was from the eighties, it was fairly advanced tech.

They just needed to find one of the chips.

"Alright, if we split up, we should be able to find the chips easily. Then we should be able to just port over Chica to a new chip, then we can get out of here!"

Everyone agreed, and went off in search. They all stayed within the room- the next room, leading further into parts and services had suffered more damage. It looked like someone had thrown a charging station through one of the windows connecting the two rooms. Probably Monty? Could've been Freddy?

Roxy and Eclipse stayed together, while they searched. Probably because Roxy can't see what she's looking for. Though May and Trev went separate directions. Trev went into the containment tube, and May went to investigate the rooms that'd lost their windows in the quake.

Andy went over to some crates, near the area where endos were being kept in cages. All the endos looked like they were powered down, but it was still creepy.

She could faintly hear an unfamiliar ringtone, from what sounded like where May was. Which made sense to Andy- May probably changed phones since she was a teen.

She opened up the lid on the top crate, and peaked inside. It was all dusty parts- some eyeballs, some servos, and other assorted pieces.

Andy would have looked through those crates more, until she heard May scream. A blood curdling scream, like she had never heard May make before.

She bolted over to those rooms. Into a room that would previously be used to work on animatronics, until they'd brought in that giant containment tube. A room that had one boarded up door. A room that had broken windows and a turned over desk. A room that was furthest away from anything. A room that had May standing inside, hand clutched to her chest. Shivering in place.

A room that had what used to be a young girl inside.

Andy couldn't catch her breath. And it was like the world decided to spin beneath her. She could hear Trev startle beside her, as he ran in.

This room- had what would have been a middle school girl inside. Ripped limb from limb. Curly red hair, tied in pigtails with two faded ribbons. Freckled, pale skin. Now mottled with purple. Empty-looking eyes, from her severed head, staring sideways from nearby.

And the ringtone noise was much louder here. Coming from her clothed torso. Until it stopped.

There was surprisingly little blood on the ground. But there was a strong smell of rot in the air. Andy could faintly hear Roxy sniffing.

‘You should've seen the way it looked at me, Andy. It looked so angry, like it could've torn me to pieces. And I know it would've if it'd caught me- it was able to break through the elevator door! It's stronger than it looks.’ Cassie had said, clutching her plushie to her chest. ‘But it thought I was already dead…’

Everyone was shocked and silent, except for May's sobbing cries. Nobody moved an inch.

At least, until a panicked voice rang out from the Endo Nursery.

"Dee? Are you there?"

Andy's blood ran cold.

She quickly turned around and looked over to where the voice came from. So did Roxy. "Cassie?" She whispered, In a confused tone. She looked like she was about to leap off, after the voice.

"That's not Cassie." Andy whispered frantically. Roxy's ears perked towards her, listening intently. "She never calls me Dee."

Andy turned back towards her friends. They looked at her with wide eyes. Trev had lost what little color he'd had in his face. May shook like a leaf. Andy needed to keep it together. She had everyone depending on her- she'd brought them here in the first place. "Everyone, follow me now."

This time, everyone listened, including Eclipse.

She didn't have time to explain what was going on. At least Roxy seemed to understand how dire this situation was. She'd put herself between the group, and where the voice came from. Trev and May clutched their weapons closer to their chests. Andy couldn't pretend she wasn't doing the same thing. Nobody wanted to end up like that poor girl.

Andy quickly looked behind them as they walked towards the elevator, to see if she could see anything through the busted windows. Only rubble. She turned and continued walking. Turning around to make sure everyone was keeping up with her.

She hoped it was just calling out, that it didn't know where they were. She hoped it wasn't chasing them yet. That it hadn't heard them somehow.

"Dee? Are you in there?! Say something!" Andy shivered, and started running. She didn't have to say anything to her friends- they kept pace.

They ran through Roxy's hallway, and got to the elevator, where Andy slammed on the button repeatedly, trying to get the door to open faster. It took way too long- or maybe adrenaline was making everything run slower?

"Everyone in- go, go, go!" She shooed her friends inside. They could complain later. Eclipse went in, but Roxy stayed out, looking down the hall, clenching her remaining fist. She and Andy could hear dull footsteps slowly approaching the hallway.

"Roxy, get in now." Andy growled. "Don't fight it here- or Cassie will never forgive me for leaving you behind."

Andy thought Roxy was going to refuse. She took a bit, before she sighed, and got into the elevator. Andy swept in after her and slammed the button that would take them back to Rockstar row.

She hoped this elevator would hold. She hoped she wasn't sending her friends to their doom. Her teeth were chattering in her mouth, and her shovel was shaking in her hand. Even as she tried to look like she had this all figured out.

The elevator went up, slowly. Then the screaming began. Cassie's screams. She sounded like she was being torn apart, limb by limb…

It's not her- it's not her! She's in hospital! It's just messing with you!

… but what if it is her?

Andy could hear someone making a pitiful noise, as she covered her ears and shut her eyes.

Until someone put their hand on Andy's shoulder, and she realized it was her own voice. She stopped, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She could feel her pulse beating like a drum in her neck. She opened her eyes, and saw May trying to comfort her. Tears were streaming down May's face.

The screams were still echoing, but faded as the elevator got closer to Rockstar Row. May pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, you have your phone, right Andy?" Andy nodded. "You can ring her soon. Once we get out of here…" Andy hugged May back- May needed comfort, too.

"Andy… was that the thing? Y'know. The one you told us about?" Trev asked in a whisper. Andy nodded again. "Fuck, I really thought it'd be gone by now…"

Eclipse looked towards Roxy- "That was the monster that nearly tore your head off?" Roxy's shoulders drooped. She probably would've nodded, if she could.

Instead she asked- "Who did it kill?"

He clarified who it was in a whisper- "Sun would see her when her parents picked up her brother from daycare… She would've turned thirteen soon..."

There was no more time to talk- the elevator doors opened, and Eclipse stuck their arm in the way quickly. just in case the monster tried to call them back down. Everyone filed out quickly into Roxy's green room. Except Andy- who jammed her shovel into the doorway of the elevator sideways to keep it propped open. That way it couldn't get called back down. She hoped, anyway.

Andy rejoined the others, wiping at her wet eyes. She needed to keep it together for this- or they'd never get out of here in one piece. "We're leaving now. No Monty. Whisper when you talk. And don't trust anyone's voice unless you can see their mouth move. Come on."

She thought Eclipse or Roxy would raise an issue with this. But they didn't. They knew it was too late. No one wanted to end up like the victims in a horror movie.

They went a different direction through Rockstar Row this time- taking the way that would lead them to the Monty Golf entrance. Eclipse led the way, while Roxy took the rear, keeping May, Trev, and Andy in the middle. Roxy grabbed Andy's hand, surprising her until she realized- Roxy couldn't see if anyone talking to her was the real deal. She needed another way to know. Andy squeezed Roxy's hand.

They walked fast, but tried to keep quiet. Periodically checking behind them in case it'd found another way up. Every noise they heard was suspect. At least the screaming has stopped.

Once they got back to the Atrium, May jammed her crowbar into the handle of the roller door, managing to catch the claw on the handle and jam the tip into the broken foundation. It wouldn't hold for long, but it could buy them some time.

They beelined towards the rope. Only to realize an immediate problem- Roxy couldn't climb it. To get up safely, you'd need two hands. She only had one. They could hear distant thudding footsteps as well- it had found a way up to Rockstar Row.

They quickly sent May climbing up first. Once she was up, Trev looked at Andy, pointing her up the rope before him. She shook her head. She couldn't leave without Roxy. He sighed, and gave Andy his bat. Then he scaled up the rope quickly.

Eclipse had found another route up, using his rope from near the Monty Golf sign that allowed them to fly. He could carry a kid, but adults were too heavy. Other animatronics were too heavy.

That left Andy and Roxy.

"Roxy, I need your chips now." She commanded.

Roxy was turned towards the footsteps again. She let go of Andy, and clenched her hand into a fist again. The footsteps were edging closer, faster now.

"If we leave it here, it'll kill more kids. Innocent kids."

Andy shivered, and put her hand on Roxy's shoulder. "I can't fight it, Roxy. None of us can! We have to leave! We can get the police down here after we leave- please-"

She thought she was convincing Roxy, until her own voice came from Rockstar Row:

"Wow, Wolfie. It's really playing you for a fool. You're following the wrong girl- come with me, I'll take you to Cassie…"

Roxy wheeled on Andy. If she had eyes, Andy guessed she'd be staring her down.

Andy felt her stomach drop. "Roxy, you know it's me! We've walked together the whole way here… and why would Eclipse follow that monster willingly?" She would have appealed to her friends for help, but she doubted it would be convincing. And they were too far away now.

Roxy didn't look completely convinced. Alternating turns between Andy, and the voice. Andy could hear that monster getting closer. But it hadn't reached the roller door to the Atrium yet.

She needed to do something. Anything. There was no time to waste.

…

She could use the bat that Trev had left with her. One good swing and she could probably knock Roxy's head off. Then she could just put Roxy's head in her bag, and leave.

She'd never see it coming.

It'd be easy…

…

… But she couldn't.

Not after all the love her Mom had poured into making her character- even if she was focus tested and inauthentic. Not after all the time Sam had spent building her up, and keeping her in tip top shape.

Not after she'd saved Cassie's life.

Andy sighed. She needed to try something else.

… She got an idea. But it was a gamble.

"Roxy- ask me something only I would know." Something that Sam or Cassie may have told you. Something I can answer…

Roxy stayed silent for a bit before asking:

"... What kind of flowers were outside your old house?"

Andy's breath caught in her throat. Those flowers? The ones she had planted with Sam? Back when he'd first married her Mom?

"Red hibiscus flowers. They were always Mom's favorite… we wanted to give her a special gift for Natal."

Roxy turned back to her, and thought for a second. The footsteps sounded like they were at the stuck roller door now. Andy twitched her fingers around the bat, and hoped she hadn't made a mistake. She could see the roller door start jiggling.

Roxy spoke up "... Take the two in my head, but leave the one in my back. I'll hold it off- quickly!"

She didn't need to tell Andy twice. She opened the hatch- Roxy had luckily avoided welding it shut when she repaired her neck- and grabbed out the two chips. Both labeled with Roxy's name, and a little drawing of a keytar. Sam's drawing. She held her breath, and stood back, as Roxy jilted slightly. The chip in her back taking full control.

Any wrong move could get Roxy's endo targeting her, instead of the monster.

The crowbar finally was yanked free, and the roller door shot up, making a loud noise. Roxy's old body started towards the harsh noise- "You might as well give up…"

Andy could see golden eyes lock on her, from the darkness inside Rockstar Row. She didn't bother trying to get the chips into her bag this time- jamming them into her hoodie pocket, and hoping they wouldn't fall out. She dropped the bat, turned and scaled the rope as she heard her own voice cry out in frustration behind her.

As she climbed further, she could hear her friends up top cheering her on- "Come on Andy! You can make it! Please…" Her lungs screamed from exertion. Down below, her voice screamed out. Andy heard the Monster put Roxy down for the last time. The tearing sound of servos, and the clunks of metal limbs hitting the floor, filling her with the same weird sense of guilt she'd felt about Chica.

She prayed it was too heavy to climb after her.

She was nearly at the top, maybe eight meters up, when she heard May gasp. "Andy- hang on tight!"

She didn't understand until the rope started twisting underneath her. Andy clinged to one of the knots as she felt the rope tug repeatedly, It was trying to throw her off. She screamed when she felt one of her feet slide off the rope. As the rope spun with her on it, she lost her balance and nearly fell completely. If it wasn’t for one hand keeping a tight hold on the rope, she would have. She could hear rumbling from up above- the old El Chips sign wouldn't be strong enough to hold a person's weight, plus someone pulling them down.

"Andromeda- you should get down from there!" Yelled up a voice she had thought she'd never hear again. But it was warped- stuck as how it would've been a year ago. Mechanical sounding. "How many times has your Mom told you not to climb too high?"

She sobbed as her step father tried to drag her to her doom. He's dead he's dead just like Jason- Just like Jemima- They bumped him off- they killed him- he's dead.

She couldn't keep climbing, because she'd fall off immediately. She couldn't fall down, because if the fall didn't kill her, It would. She whimpered and hung on for dear life.

But she could hear her friends up top- Eclipse yelled out. "Andy! We've got you! Hang on!"

She could feel the rope being tugged down. But now she could also feel it being tugged up. Andy opened her eyes and looked up- The monster may have held one end- but her friends held the other. Eclipse, May, and Trev all trying to pull it up together. It was a game of tug-o-war now- and it felt like they were winning. Andy nearly burst out crying with relief.

With all this tension, the rope was now more stable. But it had also started fraying just above her, at the next knot. Andy was filled with adrenaline, as she scurried up over the frayed section towards her friends.

It was just in time too- the rope snapped from the strain. The release of tension nearly threw Andy off again- until two hands grabbed her under her shoulders and pulled her up.

May had grabbed her with an "Up you get!", being held up by Eclipse and Trev. Andy clung to May like she was a lifeline, as her feet touched solid ground. She threw her arms around everyone- May, Trev, and Eclipse- as she sobbed with relief. She could hear her step Dad's voice down below, screaming some curse words in Portuguese. Her friends hugged her back.

She let go as she collected herself, rubbing her eyes again. I'm not a baby- how many times am I going to cry tonight? She looked down the hole, while holding May's hand- it was a bad idea. When she took out her flashlight, and shone it down there, she saw Bonnie. Or rather, a cruel mockery of Bonnie. The monster had found his parts somewhere, and crudely slapped them onto its own endo. But it clearly wasn't Bonnie. It was holding the fallen piece of rope in both blood-covered hands. Staring up at Andy with its glowing orange eyes.

She shivered, as May tugged her away towards Superstar-cade. "Don't worry about it now. It can't get up here…" Trev said. Andy hoped it couldn't. But it'd gotten out of the basement despite her locking the elevator upstairs. She breathed deeply, and they went into the Superstar-cade.

Everything was as it had been when they had gone through earlier. They hurried back towards the door leading to the fire escape. As they got to the hole near the exit, they could hear the roller door from the Atrium to the Superstar-cade get ripped open.

"May, you first!" Andy whisper-yelled. This time there were no complaints- she went, clinging to the sides of the wall and trying not to look down. Trev got ready to make the jump, as Andy turned to Eclipse- "Chips please?"

Eclipse stared at her, and she groaned in exasperation- "haven't we proved ourselves yet! It's coming, so please-"

"Andy- just let him come with. We can figure this out later!" Trev whispered, then he jumped over the hole, landing roughly on the other side.

Andy groaned. He didn't get it. "Can you make the jump?" She whispered, pointing to Eclipse's footless leg. He nodded back. Alright, so maybe Trev does get it. "Okay, let's go." She turned, took a deep breath, and waited until May and Trev were clear before taking her jump. She reached the other side, but too close to the edge. Nearly falling back in until Trev grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. Once Andy was clear, Eclipse made his leap, and landed soundly.

May opened the door to the fire escape quietly. "Quickly, quickly!" She whispered. They went in, trying to keep the noise down. Once they were all in, May softly shut the door again. They could hear footsteps approaching.

Everyone looked at Andy, as she slowly slunk up the stairs. They followed her lead, keeping an eye on the door and an ear on the footsteps. This was a gamble- it may know where they are by deduction. It may be able to slink around next to the wall. It may be able to make that jump. It may wrench open that door and chase them down while they're surprised…

…

Andy held her breath as she heard it wandering around out there. She got to the next stairwell. She heard it make the jump, landing hard on the other side.

…please don't open please don't open-

It didn't open. And she could hear the sound of footsteps walking away, to the other side of the VIP lounge.

She took some quick, quiet breaths, and continued up the stairs. Watching to make sure everyone was following while she walked.

They got most of the way up the stairs in silence, far enough away to where they couldn't hear its footprints anymore. Far enough away that Andy got her hopes up, about them getting out of here without any more issues.

Trev was walking just behind her, and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to him. "Andy, let's just take him with us. He can ride in the back of the pickup. If I drive safely, no one will have any reason to stop us and check the back." He whispered.

Andy nodded back to him, then turned around and kept walking. They were only a flight of stairs away from the rooftop exit.

She heard the door slam open below them, and her heart dropped into her stomach. We weren't quick enough. She froze, and turned towards the noise. So did her friends. She couldn't hear footsteps- yet. Instead she heard something much worse.

A young man, panting and out of breath. Stuck one year in the past. A young man who was definitely, probably, dead. "Trev? Trevor? Please come help me. I've been stuck here for so long…I can't… I can't go much further. Please… before it finds me…"

Trev was standing there, looking like he was about to fall over. Or like he would take off running down there any second. Andy took a step down to him, and shook his shoulder. He turned to face her, his face had lost what little color it had. Dee walked up behind Trev with Eclipse, and put her hand on Trev's other shoulder. He started a little from it, before realizing it was her.

"Trev. It's not him. It's not him. It's just playing with you, like when it pretended to be Cassie. Or when it pretended to be Sam." Andy whispered.

Trev shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "You don't know that. It could be him, it could be…" he was lying to himself. And from the look of despair on his face, Trev knew it. Andy drew him in for a quick hug, then started tugging him towards the exit.

The monster hadn't given up, though. "Why did you abandon me, Trev? If you had been there with me at the meeting, you could have helped me… You could still help me. Please…"

Trev sobbed out, but continued up the stairs with Andy and the group. They ran now- because the monster had heard the sob and started running up the stairs. Every noise they made echoed against the concrete. Andy saw the stars shining through the open door to the rooftop. We're so close, we're so close-

They burst out onto the roof, and then Andy remembered something awful- the fence at the bottom of the stairs. The one with the barbed wire. And the one section free from it, that had taken them time to climb over one by one. The one that could trap them now.

She stopped, and May and Trev stopped too. "No guys- run! Get over the fence and to the car! I'll… I'll think of something…" She turned back towards the door. She needed to buy her friends time- she was the reason they were here in the first place. She'd nearly brought them to their doom.

May and Trev looked horrified. But they did run. Andy could hear May start sobbing as she fled with Trev.

Andy could feel her pulse beat fast in her neck. But she also felt time crawl- she was sure she'd die up here. She could hear the footsteps echoing through the door, and the monster calling out- but it had switched tactics again. It had switched… to Gregory?

Of all people-

"Andy, do you know what happened to me?"

She didn't. Why was it asking her?

"’... Wow, you're really on something, huh? Got any spare for me?’" It said, in a strange recreation of Gregory's voice. It… didn't sound like something he would have ever said. So why…

She couldn't get this feeling out of her head. That she was missing something. A strange feeling of… guilt washed down her back.

She didn't have time to ponder- it was nearly here, and it knew she was here. She was here alone. She needed to do something-

As Andy scanned the roof, she couldn't find anything useful for barricading the door. She didn't have her shovel, or a crowbar, or even Trev's baseball bat anymore- and there was nothing strong enough here. Just junk, scraps of wood, weak pipes, Eclipse-

Wait, Eclipse?

Andy turned to him. "You need to go! Now! Before it dismantles you- Go with Trev and May!"

Eclipse shook his head. Andy nearly cried out- you don't have to die with me!

"A-are you waiting for Chica and Roxy? Take them! Take them!" She tried flinging her bag at him, and reached for Roxy’s chips in her hoodie pocket- but Eclipse walked past her, back to the door. He pressed it shut, and held it in place.

"...I'm not strong like Monty, or Freddy. Take my chips- and hurry! I'll try to hold the door…"

Andy felt that twinge of guilt again. But she also felt self preservation kick in- she didn't need to die here.

She found the panel- it was hidden in a different spot of his head- and got the chips. She didn't bother looking at the labels. She knew what'd be on there: Sun & Moon, with a childish sun and moon drawing to accompany it. Sam's work, again.

She left the spare chip in the back- grabbed her bag and bolted for the stairs. She could hear the monster approaching, and could hear it struggling with the door before she got far enough away to stop hearing it.

She ran faster than she'd ever ran in her life. She could only hear the pounding of her feet on the concrete steps, and the pounding of her blood in her neck.

Andy knew where to go- she could see her friends running towards where they'd parked the pickup. But they were too close to it, and she was too far- could she catch up in time, before they left? They must think I'm dead by now…

She grabbed her flashlight out of her hoodie pocket, and turned it on. She shined it at their retreating figures, then screamed out "I'm here! I'm here! Don't leave me!" She continued running- she was nearly at the bottom of the stairwell- while looking to see if they noticed her.

She saw May turn around and look at her- then tug at Trev and tell him. Andy was filled with hope- they wouldn't leave her behind-

Unless it caught up to her.

Andy heard something crash loudly as she neared the bottom of the stars. She looked away from Trev and May, and saw it. It had jumped from the top of the building to the bottom, and was kneeling in the space between the fence and the stairs. In a dent it had created falling on the concrete foundation.

She stopped running. There was no point now. It would kill her before she even reached the fence to begin climbing.

It was staring at her with its orange eyes. Wearing the bloodied remains of her step-dad's favorite animatronic. Holding the snapped arm of Andy's new favorite animatronic. Talking to her in her mother's voice.

"Why do you hate it here so much?"

Andy stepped backwards up the stairs. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't respond. It was playing, word for word, a conversation she'd had with Mom when she was fifteen years old.

"I think you've been playing too many of those games, Andromeda… nothing bad happens at Freddy's. Those games were just based on urban legends… 'Purple Guy' never existed…"

She panted from exertion. She couldn't keep running from it. If she ran back into the building, she'd be a sitting duck. If she stayed here…

…

But it seemed content with tormenting her for now. Maybe if she talked back, she could have time to think of a way out…

She sobbed out and looked down at it. "Why are you doing this then? If it's all just games…" She could see Trevs pickup's headlights turn on in the distance, and her heart sank. Even if she found another way out through the pizzaplex, she wouldn't catch up to them in time. They'd have to leave without her.

It took a few steps forwards, as she held her ground, sobbing. She had nowhere else to run.

She could see the pickup's headlights getting closer, fast- they weren't leaving her behind, she realized… they'd found the last weapon they had available and were preparing to use it. It may have been a beater-up, but it would be strong enough to break through the fence.

Would it be strong enough to stop this monster? She thought. She needed to keep it still.

The monster stopped maybe five meters away from the stairs. Still on the concrete foundation of the Pizzaplex. It said, in a voice that must have been it’s own? "He's not really dead. He's right here. Follow me…"

Andy was so confused. "That, that doesn't answer my question… Why do you want to kill me? What have I ever done to you? Why did you try to kill Cassie?"

It tilted its head, it looked confused too. It grumbled, in a different voice- "Don't you have something better to do than stare at me?"

This left Andy even more confused. She could hear the pickup rumbling louder and louder as it approached. The monster looked up at her, waiting for a response.

"I… I don't understand. You don't want me to look at you? If you let me go, I'll never look at you again!" She yelled out.

This seemed to be the wrong answer. It roared at her, and started plodding towards the stairs. But not quick enough- with a loud crash, Trev crashed his pickup through the fence, and straight into the monster. It went down under the chassis.

Trev screeched the pickup to a stop, it skidded out and the right side of the vehicle hit the Pizzaplex. Luckily, not too hard- but that side’s mirror was now wrecked. Andy gasped loudly, nearly falling backwards trying to get away from it.

She could hear the engine rumbling as Trev stuck his head out the window- "Andy- get in!" She didn't think twice- throwing herself into the cargo bed, and landing on top of her push bike. She could hear servos creaking under the car.

"Go! Go! Go! She screamed. Trev floored it out of there, turning to head towards the pizzaplex's parking lot. The truck scraped awfully against the wall, making a sickening sound. It was just able to turn enough to squeeze through the first hole made in the fence, to get away. She could feel the wind tugging her hoodie down over her face, as she slunk down as low as she could in the cargo bed, hanging on to the sides.

Looking back, she could see the monster get up, and start chasing the vehicle.

But luckily for her, this wasn't The Terminator. It was fast- but not 50 miles an hour fast. They lost it as they peeled out of the parking lot, and onto the highway. Andy could feel herself, still breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

She needed to thank her friends so, so much for coming back for her. For being here in the first place. She needed to check she had all the chips. She needed to ring Cassie. She needed to ring the police- from a payphone somewhere.

But first they needed to get a lot further away from this thing. She lay down in the cargo bed, as she caught her breath.

________

They were a few miles away from the Pizzaplex now, in the downtown of St George. They'd stopped briefly outside the city, to take off the covers on Trev's License plates, and so Andy could squish herself into the back seat and put her seatbelt on.

"Like they always say- 'if you have a dead body in your trunk, you better use your turn signals.'" Trev quoted.

Nobody laughed at this. Admittedly, he didn't seem to be joking, from the serious look on his face. It was way too close to home for everyone, as they had a metaphorical body in their trunk. A torn up middle schoolers body. A body they'd need to report. A body they could easily be arrested for.

Andy had checked her bag, and her pockets to make sure she had everything. In them, was Chica, Roxy, and Eclipse. She sighed in relief. They were cruising around in the car, looking for an isolated payphone anywhere.

Eventually, they found one, near a shut down factory. There were only a few homeless people sleeping on the steps of the factory, not near enough to the payphone to listen in on a phone call.

Trev pulled up about one hundred meters away, to hopefully avoid getting his license plate caught on any cameras. He let May out, as they'd agreed in the car. ‘I found her first. I feel like I need to be the one to tell them.’

Andy and Trev couldn't help but feel a bit anxious for her. They kept their eyes peeled, for anything with glowing, orange eyes, as she talked into the phone.

After a few minutes of talking, and quickly slamming down the phone, she ran back to the pickup, looking completely drained. She slid into the front passenger seat, after wrangling with the damaged door, and Trev took off. No one wanted to stick around.

May spoke up before anyone could ask her- "They wanted me to stay on the line. They wanted my name. My phone number. I had to hang up." She shook like a leaf.

Trev put a hand on her shoulder, keeping the other one on the steering wheel. "You did the right thing, May. You told them about that machine too?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I bet they'll think I was high or something. But I did tell them. Ball's in their court now…"

The car stayed silent. No one thought the police would take this seriously. The police in Washington County didn't have… the best reputation.

Andy checked her phone. It was 2:37am. They'd been in the pizzaplex for a bit over four hours. A lot of the thoughts that she just hadn't had time to think back in the Pizzaplex now invaded her mind.

She could still hear her screams from below the elevator.

"Hey, uhh, is it okay if I ring my sister? I just need to check if she's doing okay?" She didn't want to start talking on her phone, if that would cause Trev problems driving.

"Umm, yeah. That's all good." He took a bit to think. "Andy, still up for buying drinks for us? I think we all kinda want to forget tonight…" May nodded, in agreement. "Also, do you still have Jason's number?"

"Yeah, I do." She'd felt too weird deleting the number of one of her friends. So she hadn't.

"Could you ring him as well? If it goes to message bank again… at least I'll know."

"Yeah, sure." Andy said. "Just got to ring her first."

~~~~~~~~

Author's note- I know we pass through the El Chips menu sign in the Salon section of Ruin. But I don't think that was really the sign, because Roxy can also pass through it. It's one of the illusions from the occipital transponder chip implanted in Cassie's eye/head. At least, that's my take.

Also, I should clarify- in this fic. Cassie couldn't find the voicebox, nor could she find Bonnie’s body. So, nobody had any idea he was there to be saved.

Maybe he could have been… but I have no idea how I'd write him. And the house will eventually be packed full of animatronics. One more would be too hard to balance. This story will have a fairly happy ending, but not a perfect ending. So, don't set your hopes too high please.

Regarding the Mimic- I think it's a combo of the two different mimic-based characters (The one from the epilogue, who was just following orders. And Glitchtrap, who saw… something go down, tried to mimic the killer, and was behind Vanny, GGY, The Mimic, and The Storyteller.) So that's what I wrote into this fic. That's also why it didn't dismantle Cassie or Roxy back in chapter one- sure it has programming saying to tear off all the limbs. But it also has a mind of its own.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I’m ngl that tiktok thing sent me into an “oh shit have I ever been doxxed” paranoia spiral too LMFAOO I’m just glad I somehow thought to toggle that off because I’ve def clicked on a tiktok link that’s been j floating around (I think on Reddit too omfg imagine a Reddit dude bro catching me watching an edit or sth posted on a subreddit) so if tiktok still notified people of me despite me toggling that off id lose it

Omfg oaeu is gonna cook so hard…..when I was reading this response literally live reaction “reos a cheater???” Then “LMAOOO NAGI” anyways…it’s funny and ironic and mildly like “wtf man” that sae won the poll and he’s probably like (from our povs) the least interesting LMAOOO but the people have spoken ig lowk your sae idea still cooked though I feel like it fits him perfectly….idk like seabird the idea just works with him very well but I am SOOO hyped for the other ones too….

DAMN IM CRYING THATS KINDA SAD??? LMAO???? Reo sitting in a room by himself sth abt that specifically makes me feel bad for him

Gotta gate keep irl Mira lest your rizz leaks out onto here and attracts dudebros /j OK gonna go watch do lmk if anything funky happens or if the notification thing still happens….although with both of us with the switch off id assume not…if it does im fr questioning TikTok’s functionality

LMAO I love how the edits are numbered and also half of the shinah ones being from the same person I was lowk not expecting the audio from the first one to be used with him though LOL but SHINAH looking majestic as ever!!! Also hakyona>>> and INUMAKI I WAS ALSO NOT EXPECTING THIS AUDIO LMAOAOA lowk im actually not sure if I’ve seen this Inumaki one??? Maybe not??? But I’m crying I was fr just thinking “guys it’s the same SHINAH scene in ever edit” REBOOT WHEN need more content for him omg

That cafe would be so hilarious LMAOOO esp w Isagi and Nagi managing I’m crying Hiori behind the camera trying to motion to him like “no no you can’t say that!!” While Rin just ignores him and keeps flaming sae LMAOOO

I fr cried laughing when I read that it’s giving Thomas the train LMAOOOO like bro what kinda aura is that like yeah we’ve got the big cats death anddddddd yup you’re local bullet train

Ok but the chigiri foreshadowing in epinagi has been crazy first hiiragi now himizu?? You’re right I almost forgot that this takes place before current manga so I mean we know he’s still alive and kicking (lmao) right now but I’m fr stressing about the future!! I’m not ready for chigiri downfall omg I’ve gotta mentally prepare myself DHSHS IM NOT READY

- Karasu anon

LMAOAOAO we are in the paranoia spiral together it’s okay but i think we have successfully escaped unscathed and undoxxed 🤩 omg getting outed to a redditor is a nightmare so glad you managed to avoid that!!

TBH THAT WAS REO’S REACTION TOO like uhhh AM i a cheater?? and then aiku brings up nagi and reo’s just like 😐 JFJSJS omg no but agreed our dislike of popular characters came back to bite us in the end 😩 i def think it’ll have a seabird vibe but the opposite almost?? like reader will be a super soccer fan…ooh wait maybe sae will think she likes aiku because aiku is so popular w ladies and reader is bad at flirting but aiku’s like no she obviously likes you bro and sae’s just like no 😒 she doesn’t 😒

NO IT IS REALLY SAD AND IT’S MEANT TO BE SO like he and reader talk for a while and she’s like damn are you lonely and he’s like no i have lots of friends but then she’s like oh rlly because i don’t think a single person down there could be considered your friend 😭 then reo’s all like yeah ok you’re right i have zero friends and then reader’s like nah we’re both wrong you have one 🙂‍↕️ and that’s how they become besties for life 🥹 they’re actually very sweet together ngl peregrine reo and reader getting together would be a good fic all on its own…like a fic of a fic or smth SKFHSJSJ unfortunately her and nagi are very much my favs so reo has 0 chance but they’re honestly very kdrama coded somehow and in the hands of a more normal author they’d definitely be endgame

DBKSDJSJ can’t let my irl self infect online spaces it’ll go too crazy 😩 jkjk ofc…nothing crazy happened on my end i think we’re safe YAYYY

LMAOOO THAT ONE ACCT CARRIESSSS THE YOTD FANDOM so many majestic edits from them literally just scroll through their acct whenever you need edits of literally any of the characters you’ll find a million of them 🤩 shinah is truly the most glorious majestic beautiful man ever AHAHAHAH and omg the inumaki edit pls the audio is crazy but lowkey the beat fits kinda well idm it 😭 no fr shinah has zero seconds of screen time so all of the edits are the same to diff songs but we must take what we can get 😩 i will literally go to my grave praying for a yotd reboot it needs to happen!!

ZANTETSU FR IN HIS THOMAS ERA 😭 pls honestly it fits how goofy he is compared to those three…also i loved the chigiri x zantetsu crossover i rlly love how epinagi takes the time to highlight every character’s strengths instead of just the protag’s (although ofc nagi gets plenty of focus there’s also a lot abt reo chigiri barou and even tabieita + kiyora now) i wish the main story of bllk did that more too!! but then again epinagi chapters are also longer so it’s more content at once which might make it just seem more fluid than the shorter weekly bllk chapters

BRO EPINAGI HAS IT OUT FOR CHIGIRI I’M SHUDDERING and omg not hiiragi 😒 bro better get his act together or his bastard half sister will appear in bllk and bitch slap him before giving otoya a kissy kiss 😘 most female interaction otoya will have had in months bro might actually pass away and freak out more than his sengoku era counterpart will once he finally gets with the reader for good

[livecharliereaction]

Charhigurashi5 start today

rena told me to think in the last afterparty but i don t really know hwats going on heres some shit tho under the cut

So the big question now is "is it oyashiro possessing villagers make them kill" OR "big rumor acts as a excuse really its all humans" well its probably a mixture of those though

im using oyashiro as a placeholder name bcs what else would i call it. But it might not be so literal - it could be any demon/god/thing or just some Girl or something (and im understanding "possession" too as a large term like it could be some sorta manipulation or disease or something)

I went into this believing its a timeloop but the more and more i played ive come to the conclusion that its either 1. Not at all OR 2. Very different from the kinds of timeloops ive seen before MAIN REASON: Keiichi getting super old alone at the end of tatarigoroshi chapter. My previous guess was that its something like "rika dies and it loops" but based on that its obviously not that simple. ...This could still be the case with time looping when keiichi dies but i kinda refuse that anyone/anything would be looping time for KEIICHI cmoon now. so yeah

IF it is a timeloop i believe it stems from rikas wish to have a normal time with her friends despite the promised horrors from her own prediction (she said it in chapter4)

i find it more likely that the different routes are stuff from different worlds or universes but im sure its something cooler than just That

speaking of different worlds i feel like theres a sort of "dark hinamizawa" alternative world like this idea is mostly from how they described keiichis paranoia in tatarigoroshi chapter (he kepts saying taht "This isnt the hinamizawa i know this sucks!!!" I doubt itd be that literal but the ideas out there)

in my old phone notes that predate this blog (i think during 1 and 2 chapters) i threw out the idea that satoko n rika have some sort of divine bond (i said as an example that if one dies the other one dies too). Im gonna be honest i DONT REMEMBER WHY I THOUGHT THIS LOL. But it hasnt exactly been negated so what ever. Current idea is that theyre just #bestiessss though.

they presented an idea that ooishi could be oyashiros servant but i highly dont think thats true he has nothing to do with this at least never in a divine sense

I mention a manager/director in the phone notes too which is crazy cos i wouldve NOT remembered that but its bothering me now. Tbh i dont rly remember what was said about that anyway but it was in end of 1 or 2. Without knowing anything id say thats rika or whatever her "other personality" is though (i think the prediction makes me think this)

also random note when mion confessed to killing everypony i think she was either lying or it wasnt really mion confessing but the Demon that she wouldve maybe been possessed by

Yeahhh ill find the #CREDITS from chapter 3 first though cos there were wordplay things but i didnt have the time to look at them properly

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.) 

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not. 

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look,"  you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him.  First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions. 

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him. 

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

[twdsunshine]

Broken: Pt. 12

Summary:  Mechanic!Daryl AU.  Tabitha Dean has returned to her hometown for the first time in years, fleeing a life that isn’t quite what she thought it would be.  When her car breaks down, the mechanic who comes to her rescue is none other than Daryl Dixon, the shy, strange boy that she remembers from her school days.  But a lot has changed since then, and, when Tabby’s life catches up with her, she finds herself in need of someone to fix her broken parts.  Is Daryl up to the job?

Pairing:  Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings:  Language, mentions of domestic violence

Word Count:  7,068

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note:  This is it.  The end.  I’m not sure I’m ready.  I have loved writing this series so so much, which you can probably tell by the way each chapter got a little longer!  This one’s a beast!  Thank you to all of those that have stuck with reading Tabby and Daryl’s story, and I really hope you like how it all wraps up.  For the last time, here we go...

*****

“I’m not gonna lie, Daryl.  It’s not looking good for you.”  The sheriff took a sip of his coffee, sitting back in his chair as he ran an appraising eye over the man that was slumped, cuffed, on the other side of the table.  “We’ve got a witness that saw you loitering at the motel, we’ve got a body missing a fair chunk of brains, and we’ve got your prints all over the murder weapon.  Not to put too fine a point on it but you are currently swimming in a vast ocean of shit, and, if you don’t start talking, you might just drown in it.”  When Daryl stayed silent, narrowed eyes glaring at the tabletop, he leaned forward, rapping his knuckles against the surface to get his attention.  “C’mon now.  It’d be easy for me to assume that this was all just some kinda off-the-chart stupidity, some grade-A, butt-steak idiocy, but that’s not what I’m about.  So, why don’t you tell me what in the holy hell happened back there and let me help you?”

Daryl fidgeted in his seat, blinking dazedly as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was, and it wasn’t a million miles from the truth.  He felt as if he was outside of himself somehow.  He’d seen the cops come storming into the motel room with their weapons raised, heard the metal cuffs being snapped into place around his wrists, felt the thrum of the police car’s engine as he was transported back to the station, but, emotionally, he was numb, mentally drained, unable to react.  It seemed as if he’d destroyed a part of himself when he’d pulled the trigger, a part that was absolutely vital to his ability to function, and now it was gone, and the man opposite him was watching him expectantly, and he didn’t have a clue what to say.  He supposed, when he really concentrated and managed to form a coherent thought, that it would have made sense for him to have come up with some sort of story, a lie that would get him out of this mess, but he just didn’t have it in him right then, so he sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to focus on the sheriff, with his thick red hair and wrinkled brow, and told the truth.

“S’fer Tabby.”

“Tabby?  I’ve got the ID found in the wallet of the victim, and it says he is a Mr Shane Walsh from Atlanta.  I assume you knew him.”

“He’s Tabby’s fiancé.  Ex-fiancé.”

“So, what?  This some kinda love triangle turned bloody?  You been pouring the Bisquick into another man’s skillet?”

“Nah.”  Daryl swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and tried to force his brain to function so that he could properly explain.  “He… She left him, but he found her.  Tracked her down.  An’ he… He hurt her, beat her bloody.”

“I see.  Well, I am sorry to hear that, I really am.  There are some real assholes in the world and it just makes my ass itch, it truly does.  But that’s why we’re here, Daryl, to deal with those assholes.  I can’t condone this kinda… vigilante justice, not on my watch.”

“Ya don’t get it,” Daryl growled before clearing his throat, attempting to rein in his frustration.  “Tab… Her old man used to be the sheriff here when we were kids.  I knew she wouldn’t wanna come here.  She’s still hurtin’ over it, blames the job for takin’ him.  Wouldn’a been able to get her through that door, let alone talkin’ to one of ya, not in that uniform.  An’ I… I couldn’t let him touch her again.  I swore I’d keep her safe.”  It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, the fact that she wouldn’t want to step foot in her father’s old workplace, that just the thought of it made her feel sick, but Daryl knew anyway.  He knew her better than he knew himself these days, he thought.  “‘Sides, all ya’d do is lock his ass up, then she spends the rest of her life waitin’ for him to get out an’ come after her again.”

“Mother dick.”  The sheriff let out a quiet huff of disbelief, and Daryl frowned at the man as he shook his head.  “Tabby… You’re talking about Tabitha Dean, aren’t you?  Sheriff Dean’s little girl?”

“S’right.  Ain’t so little no more, but yeah.  She came back to town when her mom died.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.  I trained under Sheriff Dean when I was just a pup.  I heard his old lady went off the rails; guess I never gave much thought to what happened to his kid.”

“Shane happened,” Daryl stated bluntly.  “Made her life a livin’ hell, an’ he weren’t just gonna let her go.  I know guys like him.  He would’a killed her, sooner or later.”

“So, you grabbed the bull by the nutsack and killed him first.  Looks like ya took one hell of a lickin’ for it too.”

Daryl ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he realised that he’d just confessed to murder, and his first thought wasn’t for him but for Tabby, who seemed to need him around for reasons that he still didn’t really understand.  It wasn’t that he regretted his actions, nowhere close.  He was damn sure now that he loved her fiercely, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, and, if he’d kill for her, which he evidently would, spending the rest of his life behind bars was really nothing he couldn’t handle.  He only hoped that she could go on and find some sort of peace without him because he wanted her to have that, after all she’d been through.

“Do you have a licence for the firearm?”  The sheriff’s question cut into his thoughts, and he shook his head, knowing that he might as well just own up to all of his offences now that the big one was in the bag.  “Alright, son, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.”  Draining his coffee, the officer clasped his hands together, watching Daryl’s reactions carefully as he laid out his plan.  “Shane was clearly an unhappy man, some might say mentally unwell.  His long-term partner had left him, and he couldn’t let go of the relationship.  I’m sure there are friends or colleagues back in the city that can vouch for that, going on what you’ve told me.  It wouldn’t be out of the question for someone in that state to hit rock bottom, search for a way out, don’t you think?”

“I… I don’t get it.”  Daryl was confused, his muddled mind working overtime to try to understand where the sheriff was going with his rambling.

“I’m just saying, somebody gets into that kinda thinking, that dangerous headspace, it’s not totally out of the question that they’d find themselves an exit ramp, y’know?  ‘Stop the ride, I wanna get off.’”

“B- but my prints…” Daryl stammered.

“Prints can be wiped.  It’s an unregistered weapon.”  It took a few moments for the sheriff’s proposal to sink in, and then Daryl was shaking his head, his eyes wide as he finally realised just what this might mean for him.  

“Ya’d really do that?”

“For the daughter of the man who damn near made me who I am, I’d do that and a whole lot more.”  He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, standing and making his way around the table to stoop and undo Daryl’s cuffs.  “Sheriff Dean meant a whole lot to me, and to a lot of the people at this station, and that makes his family our family.  Now, I can make this go away, but that means you don’t breathe a word of it to anybody.  Do we have an understanding, son?”

“I… Yeah, ya got it.  I ain’t gonna say nothin’.”

“Well, alright then, leave it with me.  Looks like you’re free to go.”  Walking Daryl to the door, the sheriff shot him a conspiratorial wink, reaching out to take his hand and give it a firm shake.  “Best keep your head down, Dixon, and send Tabby my best.  Tell her Sheriff Ford said hello.”

*****

Rick stirred at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door, lifting his head from where it rested on the arm of the couch to blink blearily at Daryl as he stepped inside.  Casting a glance towards the window he noted that dawn was breaking, the sky streaked with shades of pink and orange, and he let out a tired groan as he pushed himself to his feet, moving to meet his friend.  He huffed a sigh at the sight of Daryl’s face - the split over the bridge of his nose, the blackened eye that was puffy and swollen, the bruising over his jawbone - frowning at his stiff movements as he shrugged off his vest.  

“You look like hell.”

“Feel like it,” Daryl confirmed, dragging himself over to take a seat, dropping heavily onto the sagging cushions with a grunt.  “Where’s Tab?  She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Rick told him, leaning back against the wall and watching as the other man bent forward to unlace his boots.  “Finally convinced her to turn in a few hours ago.  She was set on waitin’ up for you.”  He cleared his throat, dipping his head as he admitted, “She knows you didn’t go see your brother.”

“Whaddya tell her?”

“I didn’t.  She asked if that’s really where you’d gone, and I told her no.  I didn’t know any more than that.”

Daryl nodded.  “S’fair.  Should’a known she’d figure it out.  She ain’t stupid.”

“No, she’s not,” Rick agreed, and he found himself smiling as he thought of her panicked pacing, the naked worry on her face as she considered Daryl’s whereabouts.  It wasn’t that he’d enjoyed her agitation - far from it - but it had been nice to see that she cared so deeply about the man that most people didn’t put any effort into getting to know, unnerved by his dark scowl and the walls he built around himself to shut out the rest of the world.  Tabby, it seemed, had broken through those walls with alarming ease, and she obviously liked what she’d seen behind his defences.  He only hoped that they might be able to move forward together now, find some way to be happy.  He knew they both deserved it.  “So, did you find him?”

“Mmhmm.”  Daryl was gnawing on his lip, intentionally avoiding meeting Rick’s gaze, and he frowned, needing to know more.

“Well, what happened?”

There was a long pause, and then Daryl shook his head, letting it fall back against the couch with a rough sigh.  “S’better ya dunno.”

“Daryl-”

“Trust me, brother.”  His body was wrung out, his mind still foggy with exhaustion, but he’d made a promise to the sheriff, who was going out of his way to ensure that Daryl didn’t end up behind bars, and he couldn’t break that, no matter how much he might want to offload.

“Fine then.”  Rick moved closer, dropping into a couch in front of Daryl’s knees so he could study him intently.  “Just tell me, is it over?”

“Yeah, s'over.  She’s safe now.”

*****

Tabby was dreaming.  In her dream, Daryl was home, and he was holding her, cradling her against his chest as he pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, and she nestled into his warmth, reaching around him to smooth her hands over his back, the thin t-shirt he wore wrinkling under her fingers.  She let her touch drift south, seeking the hem so she could creep beneath it and trace patterns over his bare skin, carefully skimming over the scars that she knew he preferred to keep hidden.  They’d never spoken about them, though she’d been unable to hold in her horrified gasp the first time he’d forgotten himself and tugged off his shirt, covered with oil from his bike, to replace it with a new one, revealing to her every bad memory, every mark inflicted by his father’s drunken fury.  His cheeks had blazed with heat, and she’d gone to him, pushing herself up on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and holding him tight, as tight as she could with her ribs still aching.  She had her own scars, but nothing so ragged, so raw, and she felt his suffering so keenly that it mixed with her own.  If she’d thought she’d loved him before, now she was completely in awe of him, lost in him, this man that had come through so much and still ended up so innately good.  She’d decided then that she wanted nothing more than to spend every day that she had left making him happy, if he'd have her.

As her thoughts wandered, her hands still stroking down the length of his spine, feeling each ridge and the surrounding muscles move and shift as he pulled her closer, she became vaguely aware that she was awake, slipping back to consciousness so smoothly that her dream had melted into reality, and Daryl was there, his hair damp from the shower, his body solid and firm against hers.  Her eyes sprang open, locking onto piercing crystal blue.

“Daryl?  You’re back?”

“Yeah, m’here,” he told her, his voice low and gravelly with lack of sleep.  “M’sorry.  Rick said ya were worried.”

“Your face…”

“M’fine.”  His large hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped her, unnoticed, borne of relief and continued worry at the state of him, and she shook her head, trying to fight away the fog that was clouding her brain before she sat up, watching as he did the same.  He looked almost as broken as her, she realised, his rugged features marred by cuts and bruises, and she reached out to ghost her fingertips over the darkened skin, pulling back when he grimaced.  

“Daryl, what happened?  Where have you been?”

“Yer safe now,” was all he said, his eyes drifting closed, but that wasn’t enough, and she grasped at his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

“Daryl, please…”  She sucked in a deep breath, trying to read his reactions.  “You went to find him, didn’t you?  I know you weren’t with Merle.  Rick ratted you out.”

“Mmm, he does that.”

“Daryl…”

“Tab-”

“No, please - you’ve got to tell me, okay?  I need to know.  Yesterday was…  It was hell.  Not knowing where you were, when you’d be back, if you were even coming back-”

“Course I was comin’ back,” he interrupted, cutting her off as he fixed her with a sharp look.  “Ya really think I’d do that?  Think I’d just up an’ leave ya, after everythin’?”

“I thought you might not have had a choice,” she whispered, and she sounded so distressed that he couldn’t fight the urge to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in close, relieved when she curled into him willingly.  “He’s dangerous, and I was… I was scared that he’d hurt you.”

“Nah.”  He shrugged off her concerns, despite his aching back, stiff neck and sore throat, and the multitude of abrasions that Shane’s onslaught had left him with. 

“Really?”

“S’nothin’,” he assured her.  “Ya should’a seen the other guy.”

“Please.”  She couldn’t stand his joking, needed to hear some sort of truth, and, when he closed his eyes again, she could practically see the cogs whirring in his head.  She wished she could burrow her way in there and see exactly what he was thinking, but, when he finally looked up, his expression was one that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on him before, and it was almost the next best thing.  It was so open, so real, unmasked, and she could see affection and pain and sadness and fear and anger and so many other things, that she didn’t even know how he could contain that many emotions inside of him at one time without exploding from the pressure.  

“I took care of it, Tab, like I said I would.  Told ya I’d keep ya safe an’ yer safe now.  He ain’t never gonna hurt ya again.”

“But… how?”

“D’ya trust me?”

“You know I do.”  His lips quirked up in a crooked smile, and he used his hold on her to tilt her face up to his so he could brush a soft kiss against her mouth.  It was the first time, she thought, that he’d been the one to instigate anything like that, the first kiss they’d shared since he’d patched up Shane’s handiwork painted over her skin, and, despite the situation, she couldn’t fight the thrill that ran through her.

“Then trust that it’s over.  He’s gone.  He can’t hurt ya no more.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t.”  He spoke the words with such certainty that Tabby knew then, without him having to say any more.  She knew what had happened, knew that she was safe because Shane was dead, and that Daryl had played a part in making that happen.  And he was right not to tell her explicitly or in detail, because she didn’t want to know any more than that, she found, couldn’t hear more in case she should drive herself mad with what-ifs and all of the things that could have gone wrong, so she just nodded and buried her face in his chest, taking deep, calming breaths to steady herself.  They sat like that for a long while, silence settling over them as they each battled their own whirling minds, and Tabby thought he might even have fallen asleep sitting up when she sneaked a peek at him, his face almost boyish in his peacefulness were it not for the permanent furrow in his brow.  It deepened as he fidgeted before clearing his throat. “Hey, when yer old man was the sheriff, d’ya remember a kid that worked down at the station with him?  Ford?”

She racked her brain for a moment, searching through her memories without lingering too long on any one, because she couldn’t deal with her grief flaring up right now on top of everything else.  “Erm, yeah, I think so.  Adam or Abel or… No, Abraham, I think it was.  He was a deputy there, fresh out of the academy.  Why?”

Daryl shrugged.  “No reason.  Heard he’s the sheriff now, s’all.”

“Is that right?”  She narrowed her eyes, watching as his cheeks flushed pink, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair to avoid her gaze.

“Mmhmm.  Might be nice if ya swung by some time.  Might do ya some good.  Closure or somethin’.”

“Daryl, I- I don’t know…”

“M’sure there are some people down there that’d like to see ya.  Think about it, s’all I’m sayin’.”

“Alright, I will.”

*****

When Tabby woke for the second time, Daryl was still sleeping soundly beside her, and she watched him for a moment: the patchy scruff that coated his cheeks and chin; his mouth relaxed, lips less thin, less tightly drawn in his slumber.  The flesh over the angle of his cheekbone was red and swollen, and it softened his appearance, made him look younger somehow, and she found her mind flashing back to the quiet, shy boy that had sat next to her in class all those years ago, mumbling his words at the desk whenever they were required to speak, barely glancing her way if he could help it, so locked up in his own misery.  Who would’ve thought back then, she mused, that it would be that same boy that she would turn to in her darkest hours, that would patch up her broken parts, both literally and figuratively, and who would kill for her, to keep her safe, to protect her and ensure that she was never in that kind of danger again.  It was too much for her to wrap her head around, and she slipped carefully from the bed, letting him sleep on whilst she stepped out to face the day.

She padded into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee on autopilot and pouring herself a mug, cupping it in her hands as she wandered across the hall and dropped down onto the couch.  It was mid-morning, and the sun was beaming in through the windows, painting the warped wooden floorboards in a rich honey gold and making the spartan room feel more cosy.  She hadn’t really questioned why Daryl seemed to have so little in the way of belongings; it had just seemed to make sense with who she knew him to be, so she’d accepted it, just as she’d accepted everything else about him.  Now, though, she flashed back to what he’d said to her a couple of days before.  ‘Feels like a damn home when yer around.’  Was that, she wondered, a hint?  An invitation?  He’d said she could move in for all he cared, but it had been such a casual, throwaway remark that she’d let it go.  Now, she let herself consider it, assessing her feelings, probing them with more confidence than she’d allowed herself in a long time.  

She could see it, she realised; could picture a life with Daryl, far more easily than she could picture one without him, but, at the same time, it felt like an easy way out.  Moving in there would feel like running, like she was giving up and casting off her past completely rather than facing it head on, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.  Daryl had mentioned closure when they’d been talking in the early hours, and she knew it was something largely lacking in her life.  So, perhaps he’d been right.  And perhaps giving up the cabin that had been her haven away from the world, that had meant so much to her father and held so many memories of the time before her family had fallen apart, would be just another missed opportunity to gain exactly that.

She sighed as she settled herself more comfortably against the cushions, curling her legs up and taking a sip of her drink.  In truth, she knew she could now do whatever she wanted, and, although the freedom was exhilarating, it was also a little scary.  For so long, every decision she made had been dictated by Shane’s mood, taking careful steps so as not to antagonise him and risk unleashing the wrath of his temper.  And, even when she’d come back to town, she’d known he would turn up again, kept her head down so she wouldn’t be too easy to find, though that hadn’t really worked out.  Now, her choices were endless and it was overwhelming in both the best and worst way, so that she wasn't really sure how she was supposed to feel about any of it, if she was honest.

The one thing that she did feel, easily identifiable in the muddle of emotions that vied for prevalence in her head, was relief, and that had a lump forming in her throat, because what did it say about her that another person’s death could make her feel so light, so thankful?  Nothing good, she was sure, yet she couldn’t pretend to grieve, to feel any sort of sorrow when she was reminded of the pain that Shane had put her through each time she looked in the mirror.  Maybe at some point some sort of sadness or remorse would come, for the good times they’d had before it had all gone wrong, but, in that moment, she was more grateful to Daryl than she could put into words, and her heart swelled in her chest as she thought about what he’d done for her, what he’d been prepared to sacrifice.  She wasn’t sure that anybody else in her life had ever cared that much, and that was a relief too, because maybe it wasn’t her if someone like him could think she was worthy of protecting, of risking everything for.  Maybe...

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and midday loomed, Daryl shuffled into the living room, running a hand through his rumpled hair and shooting her a bashful smile.  “Woke up without ya.  Din’t feel right.”

“Welcome to my world,” she teased, and he scoffed, shaking his head as he slumped down beside her.  “Waking up without you yesterday was the worst thing.  Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”

“I won’t, I swear.”  Something passed between them then, a mutual acknowledgement, she thought, that, wherever they ended up, whatever happened next, they would be starting their days together, in the same place, the same room, the same bed.  Or perhaps she was reading too much into it, looking for some sign to cling onto, and Tabby wondered whether now was the time to bring up that conversation, the one they’d been putting off about what they were and where this was going, but Daryl was already moving past it, cocking his head to one side as he regarded her with concern.  “So, ya feel up to leavin’ the house today?”

“Erm, yeah.  I mean, I think so.  No reason not to now, I guess.  Why?”

“I called Carol after… When ya needed some time, just let her know.  But she’d probably like to see ya, check in or whatever.”

“God, Carol…”  Tabby hadn’t even thought, didn’t even really remember that she’d had a job just a week ago, with colleagues and a boss who relied on her.  It was as if everything, except for the man who had hurt her and the one who had saved her, had slipped away, leaving her running in pure survival mode, her world shrinking right down to the size of Daryl's house, her life completely contained within its walls.  Now, she felt guilty for her lack of consideration, and she covered her face with her hands in an attempt to hide her dismay.  “She must be so mad at me.  I totally left her in the lurch.”

Daryl’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, tugging them down so she could see the earnestness of his expression.  “S’alright.  She gets it.  She’s been there.”  At Tabby’s look of surprise, he smirked.  “S’a reason she keeps a rifle under the counter.”

Tabby processed that for a moment before nodding.  “Yeah, okay.  We should head over there.  Are you sure though?  You still look kinda tired and… well, like me.”  She gestured at her face, and saw pain flash across his eyes.

“M’sure.  Rather be busy, y’know?”

“Alright then.”  She forced a smile.  “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“Ya sure?”

“It’s the least I can do,” she told him honestly, because it was.  In fact, she owed him so much more.

*****

Carol’s was quiet when they walked in, having missed the worst of the lunch rush.  Daryl had taken the long way round, heading out of town in the wrong direction so that they could double back along the scenic route, whizzing along winding, narrow back roads, lined with overhanging trees and lush vegetation.  He told himself that he was doing it for Tabby, reminding her what the great outdoors looked like after several long days shut inside, doing nothing but worrying and licking her wounds, but, if he was honest, he needed the ride to clear his own head.  In some ways, he’d expected to feel worse than he did now that the shock had worn off, thought the weight of taking a life would sit ever heavy in his gut, but, in reality, it wasn’t quite like that.  For the most part, he felt perfectly fine, except for the aches and pains of the fight, and he’d almost manage to forget, and then it would creep up on him and hit him like an arrow through the chest, and he’d find himself unable to breathe for several endless seconds, because he’d done it; he’d killed a man, and he could almost feel the blood staining his soul.  It came and went every hour or so, and he knew that escaping for a while on the bike wouldn’t hurt.  Nor would the sensation of Tabby’s arms locked tight around his waist, tighter than necessary, holding him together. 

She was hanging back now, wringing her hands, her windswept hair hanging wild around her face, blue eyes wide with uncertainty.  He reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her forwards, releasing her to rest his palm against the small of her back.  “S’gonna be fine, Tab, I promise.”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Carol bustled out, wiping her hands on her apron before she noticed she had customers waiting.  Her face lit up at the sight of them.  “Tabby!  Daryl!  Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”  She rounded the counter and held out her arms, pulling first Tabby, then Daryl, into a tight hug.  “C’mon, let’s get you sat down.  You both look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

She led them along the corridor of tables, pausing to say hi to a regular that had come in whilst she’d been out back, and gestured towards the same booth they’d occupied on Tabby’s first visit.  Tabby slid onto the cracked leather seat, surprised when Daryl dropped down beside her instead of taking a seat on the bench opposite, and then he took her hand beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, and she understood.  She shot him a grateful smile.

“Carol, I’m so sorry I flaked out on you,” she began as the older lady sat down, but found herself silenced by a stern look.

“None of that.  Daryl told me what happened, why you needed some time.  As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“I am.  But I still feel bad.  I didn’t even call you myself and-”

“Tabby, what you went through…”  Carol sighed, her usually bright expression darkening slightly as she leaned across the table, keeping her voice low.  “It happens to the best of us.  I know what it takes to drag yourself back from that.  So, you have nothing to apologise for, okay?”  Tabby nodded.  “Besides, any friend of Pookie’s is family, and family looks out for each other, right?  Now, how are you doing, really?  Both of you?”

“A little sore still, but mostly better.  It feels good to be out of the house.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed.  “Thought she was gonna melt into the couch for a while there.”

“Shut up.”  Tabby dug an elbow into his ribs, and he winked at her, lips curving in a smirk.

“And your fiancé, is he…?”

“Gone,” Daryl told her in a decisive tone that didn’t invite any further questions, and Carol’s face settled into a knowing look as she reached over to pat the back of his hand where it rested on the tabletop.

“Well, sounds like it’s for the best.”  The door to the diner swung open and she pushed herself to her feet, ready to get back to work.  “I’m just glad you’re both okay.  And when you’re ready to pick your hours back up, Tabby, you just let me know.”

“Oh, I...”  Tabby knew that she needed to go back, that it would do her some good, but she still felt unsettled, unsure of what she was doing.  She didn’t feel like she could just jump back into the new life she was building when she was still hiding out at Daryl’s, not even knowing where she wanted to be or what they were to each other.  She needed to get things straight in her head before she could focus her energy on anything else, and Carol seemed to get it because she cut her off with a smile.

“No rush.  I just want you to know that your job is waiting for you, that’s all.  We miss you round here.”

*****

Tabby didn’t notice that Daryl missed the turning that would take them back to his place on the way home, cruising through town and past the auto shop, all the time waiting for her to object.  She was too busy clinging to him tightly, revelling in the sturdy strength of him, the leather of his vest smooth against her cheek, the rush of air as exhilarating as it had been the first time she’d ridden with him.  She loved her car, the Cougar, with all her heart, and she knew she would never want to drive anything else whilst she could keep the old girl running, but she felt a rush being on the back of Daryl’s bike that was unlike anything else she’d experienced.  Perhaps it was the loss of control that gave it that edge, because all she could do was hang on tight as he sped along, but it wasn’t scary; she knew that he would keep her safe.  Or perhaps it was just his close proximity and the excuse to drag herself as close to him as she possibly could, without worrying that he might pull away because they really did need to talk at some point soon.  

When the motorcycle finally slowed to a stop, the engine shuddering into silence, it took her a moment to realise where they were, but she could feel the tension threading through Daryl’s muscles, his whole body rigid beneath her hands as he prepared for her reaction.  The cabin was a sorry sight.  It looked lonely somehow, with the Cougar still parked haphazardly across the front of the porch steps, abandoned and coated in a fine layer of dust that the breeze had stirred up from the forest floor.  She swallowed hard, swinging herself off of the bike and slipping off her helmet, so she could run her fingers through her hair.

“You brought me home.”

“Thought it was time.”  He was studying her face, waiting to see if she’d crumble or yell, but she only nodded, taking a cautious step forward.  “He ain’t here, Tab.  He ain’t gonna hurt ya.  This is yer place, an’ yer dad’s.  Ya can’t let him take it.”

She knew he was right, and she rounded the car and climbed the steps one at a time, her heart pounding as she neared the front door.  Daryl was close behind her, tugging her keys from his pocket and handing them over so she could slide one into the lock.  The door swung soundlessly open, and, together, they stepped into the chaos.  The contents of the mantle had been swept to the floor, crushed beneath heavy boots.  The chairs on one side of the table were upended and scattered across the wooden boards, and the table itself was at an angle, where it had skidded under the force of her slamming into it.  The TV was lying screen-down on the rug, and there were patches of blood here and there, amongst the debris and shattered glass from the frames that had fallen from the wall.  She huffed a shaky sigh, feeling Daryl’s hands come to rest on her shoulders, as if he was trying to lend her some of his strength.

“Y’alright?”

“I- I think so.”  She closed her eyes, waiting for the panic and fear to take hold, but, to her surprise, those feelings never came, because it wasn’t Shane she saw, looming over her, his fists clenched.  Instead, it was Daryl, in the moment when she’d opened the door to him, the relief that flashed over his features, closely followed by shock and concern and sadness, and she remembered the sense of belonging she’d felt as she fell into his arms, as if it was okay for her to fall apart because she was finally home.  She’d been wrong, she realised.  It wasn’t the cabin that was her safe haven.  It was him.  It had been all along.  “Yeah, I’m actually okay.  I feel good.”

“Ya do?”

“Yeah, I do.”  She span on her heels, his touch falling away as she faced him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and smooth over his worry lines with the pads of her thumbs.  “Daryl, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I already told ya, m'here as long as ya need me.”

“No, I don’t mean… It’s not that I’m afraid or that I’m lonely.  It’s not that I need you here.  I just…”  She paused, sucking in a deep breath as she watched his eyes search her face.  “The other day, you said that your place felt like a home with me there, do you remember that?”

He shrugged, the tips of his ears burning red.  “Mmhmm, course.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about you.  Like, whenever I’m with you, I’m home, and I belong somewhere, and that’s… I haven’t felt like that in a really long time.”  She heard Rick’s voice in her head, urging her on.  ‘When he comes back, you should tell him.’  “What you’ve done for me… And not just with Shane, but before that.  You went out of your way to give me rides so I wouldn’t be stuck out here, and you made time to hang out with me when you knew I was feeling alone, and you paid off the work on my car, and you gave me the best birthday I could have, under the circumstances.  And you have never once expected anything of me that I couldn’t give or asked me to be anyone but who I am.  You’ve never… never judged me for what I’m feeling or acted like it was some sort of personal slight if I was sad, and I- I didn’t know it was supposed to be like that.  I didn’t realise this was how it was supposed to feel... before you.”

He was watching her with a frown, unsure where this was going, and, when she paused to draw breath, he murmured her name.  Just her name.  “Tab.”

“I love you.”  The words burst forth from her, unable to be contained anymore, and she watched as a kaleidoscope of emotions passed over his face: surprise, disbelief, amusement, as if he thought she might be joking, and then, finally, a small smile tugged at his lips, and she couldn’t help but push herself up on to the tips of her toes to kiss him, sinking into him as she felt him relax against her.  When she pulled back, he was gazing at her, as if she was the sun or an angel or something just as momentous, and then he was ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks, staring down at her hands where they rested against his chest.  “Say something, please.  I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you, but it was… It was only because I didn’t want to lose you, because, I swear, Daryl, you’re the best thing in my life; the only thing, really.  And, I promise, I won’t ever, ever hurt you again.  I would never want to hurt you.  I’m so sorry.”

“I ain’t the only thing,” he pointed out, and she felt her heartbeat falter until he glanced up, arching a playful brow at her.  “Ya got Carol an’ Maggie.  Hell, Rick sat up half the night with ya, so I’d say ya’ve won him over.”

“Daryl!”

He smirked, but it soon disappeared, slipping into something more serious, and he nodded, dipping down to press his forehead to hers, bringing them almost nose to nose.  “Ya don’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, Tab.  I lost my temper, an’ I ain't never gonna forgive myself for that.  If I hadn’t… If I’d just heard ya out, then Shane might not’a… Ya might not’a got hurt.  S’my fault, an’ I ain’t never gonna stop tryn’a make it up to ya.”

“No, Daryl, you... You’re the reason I’m still here; the reason I feel safe enough to leave the house.  Not one part of it was your fault, and you still… You risked everything to fix it, to make it better.  I still can’t believe what you did for me.”

“I’d do anythin’ for ya.”  

She kissed him again then, couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to, but she knew now that it was okay, that they'd untangled themselves from the web of guilt that they’d both been caught up in, their apparently needless apologies setting them free.  As if to reassure her further, Daryl wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her so tight against him that her ribs ached and she felt breathless, but she didn’t even try to pull away.  She wasn’t sure that she’d ever felt so wanted, so needed, so loved in all her life, and it was dizzying, so that she had to cling to him to stop the room from spinning, and, when they finally broke apart, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar scent of him wash over her and calm her racing pulse. 

“Tab…”  His voice was a rough rasp, and it seemed to vibrate right through her, making her knees weak.  “Me too, y’know?”

“What?”  She pulled back to frown at him, confused.

“What ya said… Me too.”  He shrugged, avoiding her gaze for a moment and, when he looked back to her, his cheeks had darkened to a deep pink.  “Never thought I’d have somethin’ like this, but ya make it easy.”

“So, you’ll stay then?” she asked, her heart just about ready to burst because she couldn't even imagine being at peace now anywhere but where he was. But she also knew that she needed to honour her father and make the cabin a home again, to find the closure that she now knew she needed, and she was sure that Daryl recognised that too.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, “help ya fix what’s broken.”

“Does that include me? Because I'm pretty sure I'm still kinda broken; just a little.”

“Might as well.”  His eyes were sparkling, and she knew her grin must match his own, enjoying the light-heartedness after the weight of their confessions, because, it seemed, he made it easy too.  “S’a big job though.  Could take years.”

“Could take a lifetime,” she teased, but, deep down, it was what she hoped for, what she knew she wanted more than anything else.

“Well then, guess I better get to work.”

*****

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[nat-20s]

for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead  of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even  during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

[sirtommyholland]

Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life. 

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted. 

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep. 

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again. 

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.”  she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly. 

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.” 

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.” 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!” 

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically. 

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile. 

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on. 

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!” 

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name. 

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.” 

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake. 

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met. 

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice. 

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.” 

“... Morning Y/N.” 

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him. 

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her. 

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.” 

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!” 

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday. 

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.  

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine. 

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen. 

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine. 

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions. 

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” 

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box. 

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it. 

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.” 

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.” 

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.” 

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’ 

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday. 

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words. 

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug. 

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. 

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand. 

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.” 

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.” 

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration. 

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay. 

 some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

~~

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh

a/n: im a seijoh stan and theyre my little plant babies

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

this is so long oml i hate myself

theyre an actual boy band istg

lets be honest, they probably thought you were just another oikawa fangirl

they thought you just wanted to be closer to their captain bc you were another delusional girl who wanted to live out her fantasies

lmao im not trying to be salty

but when you just stared blankly at oikawa tooru after he called you a beautiful flower,

stageplay hinata calling you a mugwort

the team just about threw themselves on your feet

tbh you werent really there to get a boyfriend or for oikawa

you just needed an after school club and the other teams already had managers

the only sport that didnt was the boys volleyball team

imagine why

you were actually a little wary, since you knew of oikawa, being a first year yourself, and you were aware of his psycho fangirls who could probably kill you

but you needed a club that would last you for the next 3 years to graduate

it was kunimi who actually recommended being a manager

you were in his class and you noticed him sleeping in the morning so you gave him your energy bar

‘thanks’

you shrugged and smiled

thats why he tolerated you more than others

you were nice and you were the only one who noticed his tiredness, even the teacher left him alone, and did something about it

sometimes, you even gave him an energy drink

‘can you tell me why youve been so tired lately? i dont think ive seen you wake up until lunch’

he opened the snack and started munching while replying

‘early morning practice for volleyball is still a big adjustment. our captain demands us to be there 6 in the morning sharp and if we’re even a minute late, we’d have to run laps. like for every minute youre late, you have to run those amount’

oh my why is kunimi talking so much

but i love kunimi and first year seijoh boys rights in this household is valid

you furrowed your eyebrows

‘but yall are still growing and you need all your sleep. if i were there, id yell at your captain’

he grinned slightly, imagining your short height beating up their captain

‘meh. you want to be our manager? i saw you looking at the clubs board yesterday and we dont have one so you could take the opportunity and beat him up then’

ofc you agreed bc kunimi was best boi and you just wanted him to have enough sleep for once

after class, he waited for you to finish packing up and when you finished, yall left the classroom

until another guy with a spiky hairstyle joined you and you noticed him as the guy who sometimes came over to eat lunch with kunimi

‘oh, hello l/n-san’

you smiled gently

‘drop the formalities, kindaichi-kun. its only fair.’

he nodded before walking beside kunimi

‘kindaichi, l/n might be our new manager’

the onion head excitedly looked at you

‘really?! yes! so we dont have to fill our bottles ourselves anymore!’

kunimi glared at him and slapped his stomach

‘shes our manager, not our maid’

you laughed but placed an arm on him

‘its okay. i was a manager for my middle school volleyball team so i know a little bit about being one’

the two shared a look

god, they really hit the jackpot

as yall walked closer to the gym, you noticed the big pile of girls huddling at the corner

kunimi sighed

‘l/n, ill warn you ahead of time of our captain. hes kinda,,,, too much’

but you flashed him a smile

‘hes not the first one ive handled’

oml player-chan!!!

so when you opened the door and entered the gym and oikawa hit you with his normal antics, you just stared at him

‘okay and?’

hanamaki and mattsun howled before rushing to you and grabbing you in a hug

‘girls like her really exist!!’

you gave kunimi and kindaichi a signal of help and they nodded before gently prying the senpais off of you

‘senpai, please’

you gave kunimi a grateful nod

coach irihata went up to you bc wow, kunimi has a friend with of another gender?

‘how can we help you, miss?’

‘im l/n y/n, first year, and id like to apply as the manager’

internally, the coach sighed bc you werent the first one to apply

the reason they havent had a manager for years was bc of oikawa’s fangirls hiding themselves under that false facade

but he saw you brush off that comment oikawa make with no hint of fluster or blush on your face so he decides to give you a trial run, in guise of seeing if you could handle these chaotic boys

‘do you have any experience as manager? or do we need to teach you the ropes?’

‘i was a manager for 3 years in my middle school volleyball’

he nodded

‘ill give you one month. a trial run of a month to test the waters’

you agreed and your trial run began

kunimi mentioned that morning practice starts at 6 am sharp so you set your alarm for 5 to get ready and get to school on time before the boys

you remembered how to set up the nets so you quickly put them out (using a step stool bc we short) and ran to get the basket of balls

their water bottles were filled and you were in the middle of lugging the big basket of towels when the third years entered

the 4 of them usually came earlier than the rest so they saw you dragging the basket of fresh towels and wipe your sweat before smiling at the work youve done

iwa was so happy bc it was usually him who did this stuff and now that he had someone do it for him, it was like a god-send

oikawa’s eyes shone and he waved at you

‘yohoo, y/n-chan!’

you cringed at the loud voice of the famous oikawa tooru

‘hello, oikawa-san’

he chuckled at your politeness before hugging you

‘you did all this for us? youre so cute, y/n-chan!’

instead of the normal blush and love-struck eyes, you were actually very uncomfortable of the sudden skinship and you quickly ran to the side when iwa hit him at the head

‘shittykawa! leave her alone!’

‘iwa-chan!’

makki and mattsun stood next to you as the boys did their usual fight

‘is this all an act or are you really not attracted to oikawa?’

mattsun shot him a surprised look bc why was he so straightforward

but you just shrugged

‘hes cute, i admit. but ive seen much cuter and the boys in my middle school team was basically full of him so,,, and i hate guys who think theyre all that just bc theyre blessed w a pretty face. if anything, ill probably go for iwaizumi-san’

pop off S I S T E R!!!

you just won the heart of these two

slowly but surely, they all came to accept you and iwa straight out loves you bc you maintained this routine for the whole month of your trial run

and you still remained indifferent of oikawa’s advances and he was even impressed and slightly agitated that you werent paying attention to him

‘y/n-chan, one date! just one!’

you huffed before looking up from your clipboard

‘i like men, oikawa-san. not boys’

that comment made the guys shriek

‘y/n-chan! youre just a first year! you dont need a man!’

‘youre not a man, oikawa!’

you left oikawa to be tormented by his teammates and went to go and hand over the report to the coach

he was impressed by the notes you made bc they were ones he even missed

like the split-second of hesitation that kindaichi usually has that goes unnoticed but you immediately saw

or the wince oikawa has whenever he so much as jumps an inch

you could even tell the difference between iwa’s spike and if he was being easy or he was going full-out

this added on to the fact that the boys loved you and irihata actually saw kunimi try more 

but he thinks its only to earn your praises

‘y/n, youre officially the team manager’

yall celebrated at the normal hang-out spot which was the ramen shop and it truly shocked you at how much these boys ate

granted, this was the first time you ate together but you didnt expect them to eat nearly 5 bowls each

you could only finish 2 and you already feel like throwing up

‘honestly, how do you guys not gain weight after this?’

the table you sat at, iwa, kindaichi, mattsun, and kunimi, looked at you and shrugged

‘i work out’

‘i run’

‘i fast’

‘i poop it out’

lmao im sorry i cackled too hard at this

you stared blankly at mattsun’s answer who said it so seriously that you snorted a laugh

they watched you and your laughter bc you havent really expressed yourself as much 

so they made it their goal to see you laugh more

‘y/n-chan! you need to eat more!’

oikawa shouted, clearly food drunk, but you shook your head aggressively

‘i only planned to eat one bowl but he just had to shove another down my throat’

‘but you need to grow, y/n-chan!’

‘i want to grow taller! not wider!!’

As a manager:

oh boy

you basically grew into kinda their mom

‘oikawa-san! you need to rest your knee or youre going to hurt yourself! i will drag you home myself!’

‘kunimi, if you try to get this one more spike, i’ll buy you a bag of those caramel bites you like’

‘iwa-san! if you hit oikawa-san too much, youll destroy the little braincells he has!’

‘yahaba-san, nice dump!’

‘is your knee okay, watari-san?’

yall really forget that watari and yahaba exist sometimes smh

it was part of the work

keeping up with seijoh

so to keep them encouraged, you gave them praises that they always demand for and they always turn to you whenever they did something good

mattsun gives you a look whenever he blocks iwa’s spikes and you give kindaichi a head pat whenever he blocks some too

bc of how you are with them, sometimes, they forget that you are actually just a first year

they get shocked whenever you walk in with kunimi and kindaichi and talk about the current homework bc it slips their mind that their hard-working manager was actually just a 15-year-old girl

so, they try to ease the burden whenever they can

like iwa offering to help you whenever you have to take their jerseys to the laundrymat

or offering to help you with your assignments since theyve only been through it once

more like watari, yahaba, and iwa bc the matsuhana are clueless and acts like they completely skipped that grade

also

!!!!

oikawa’s fangirls ltr dont leave you alone!!!

now, its known that youre the manager of the volleyball team bc oikawa has boasted about your efforts and such

this obvs ticked off a bunch of girls bc they were jealous that you got to spend more time in a single practice with their precious oikawa-senpai than they have their entire lives

more than once theyve cornered you to threaten you to stay away from their senpai or youll have something coming for you

you never take them seriously bc you can fight too and you just give them a look and push them away

but this one time

TRIGGER WARNING-START

okay tea

the self-proclaimed president of the oikawa tooru fanclub, kenta miyo, cornered you at the bathroom with her other minions

you were just washing your hands and drying them off when she marched up to you and grabbed your hair before tugging it back

obviously you were surprised and shouted

‘oi! what the hell?!’

‘you slut! you need to stay away from my tooru, got it?!’

ehm what

you hissed and wrenched her arm from your hair and pushed her away

your hair was now a mess and you were fuming, already sick and tired of the torture these girls put you through

‘he belongs to himself, not you! so stop being delusional and leave me alone already!’

she signalled for the girls to hold on to you which you slapped away but they forcefully grabbed your arm while you kicked at them and struggle to get out of their hold

jesus what do these girls eat

miyo watches you struggle with a smile and cackles

‘oh? no fight anymore, little kouhai?’

you glared at her

‘i dont want to beat yall up bc id get yelled at by tooru so you need to let me go or regret it’

at the mention of his first name, her eyes widened and her face twisted and she slapped you

‘oi! respect your senpai, you brat! dont you ever say oikawa’s first name!’

your lips curled

‘oh? thats funny, because he actually told me to call him that since he wants his cute little manager to be very comfortable with him’

you achieved a feat that she has been working to get her entire high school life and miyo was not happy

‘ive been with him for 3 years and you just suddenly show up out of nowhere and call him that?! i dont think so!’

she had her hands around your neck and you gripped her arms, making her wince

but you laughed at that comment

‘heh, thats pathetic, isn’t it? here you are, my senpai, who has been vying for his attention for 3 years only to be ignored yet a mere first year, who shows up out of nowhere, has been asked to a date nearly a million times every day. that must be tough’

she shrieked at that comment and threw you on the floor, making you accidentally hit your head at the edge of the sink

yall im actually so bothered by this scene and im wincing as im typing

you bit your lip to prevent any sound of pain to escape bc you knew thats what she wanted to hear from you

but you werent going to give her the satisfaction

instead, you looked up at her, hatred swirling in your eyes

‘youre freaking psycho, you know that? once tooru and hajime knows about this, theyre going to give you hell. they wont ever let this go bc im the manager of their prized team and their little baby sister. so go ahead, do what you want with me. bc i paid too much for these nails to be tainted by dirt like you’

saiyo, a girl you noticed to be watari’s classmate when you went and visited him, nervously tugged on miyo’s jacket

‘miyo, we should go-’

‘SHES BLUFFING. AND HERE, SINCE YOUR SOCCERFIELD FOREHEAD IS BLEEDING, LET ME HELP WASH IT OUT’

and she poured over a carton of banana milk over you, making you wince at the sticky and cold liquid

the tough facade was crumbling and you were now screaming for help in your head, hoping that stupid theory from yahaba about team telepathy to work

but it didnt

TRIGGER WARNING-END

when miyo and her girls left, you sat on the floor, soaked and sticky and bleeding

then you begin to cry angry tears

you were angry that you were being treated like this just bc you were a manager

you were angry that you let them do that to you

you were angry that you prized your nails more than punching her square in the nose

you were just angry

periodt

staggering on your own feet, you stood up and leaned on the sink, eyes widening at the dripping red liquid from the gash on your forehead, staining the porcelain sink

you were stupid and unconsciously touched it making you wince 

‘shit, that hurts’

you whined quietly

there was little you can do with toilet paper and water to clean yourself up but you managed to at least stop the bleeding

you knew you had to be put on concussion protocol just in case bc you that hit was quite hard but at the moment, that wasnt your concern

practice has already started and this was the first time you werent present for daily practice

this was confirmed at the constant buzzing of your phone in your skirt pocket which you didnt listen to and instead, started thinking of ways to go to your locker and get your stuff and fake being sick but at the same time, not be seen and relayed to the team

time was ticking and you had to come up with a plan fast before oikawa will send the team to come looking around the building for you

once you looked at your reflection and smiled big, you decided it was enough to not show the pain you were in right now

girl im hurting for you

you peeked out of the bathroom door and saw the coast was clear so you quickly ran to your classroom, which was thankfully empty, and quickly grabbed your things

but as you were packing up, the tears just kept falling

it didnt stop as you bolted down the stairs, using your cardigan to hide your face from the public

once you were safely out of school grounds, you finally took out your phone and reviewed through all the worried and concerned texts from the team group chat

but you just replied, ‘im fine but i just feel really sick right now. girl stuff’

you smirked, knowing that would keep the boys away

but oikawa had to go and ask you to call him

‘y/n-chan! do you want oikawa-senpai to come over with chocolates and ice cream?! wings or no wings?!’

your jaw dropped at the question and clearly scandalized by the question

the team was too as shouting began and you could faintly hear iwa scream, ‘oh my god, shittykawa!’

‘im seriously okay, oikawa-san. i just need to be alone right now and ill try and get some sleep. good bye’

then you hung up

there was no way you could tell them

they were in their last year anyways so doing something about it wouldnt matter

and you were strong 

but apparently not strong enough to fight them off though

you would cover the wound with concealer and continue on with practice tomorrow as if everything was normal

but there was only so much you could take

just yesterday, they trashed your locker and a week ago, they took your bento and threw it away

you even got into a fight with this one girl but she scampered away, too scared to do anything alone

so you were actually just tired and want everyone to leave you alone

believe me, youve thought of quitting sometimes

but youve actually created a bond with these boys

like when you take hanamaki to get cream puffs whenever he loses against iwa in arm wrestling

or when yahaba calls you at ungodly hours to express his worries for next year and to fill oikawa’s shoes

it was simple moments that you shared with each player that kept you from not leaving

soon, you found yourself crying again and the looks pedestrians were giving you was starting to make you uncomfortable

a girl, with her gross hair in a bun, puffy eyes with a bleeding wound and walking down the street

that was a sight

so you cut a corner to an alley by your house to escape from the judging eyes and you were too busy wiping your eyes to see a boy who was crouched down on the floor and ended up walking over him

omg my baby kyoken hello luv!!!!

you gasped and you were surprised and quickly apologized

kyotani was originally about to yell at you, no matter what, but he saw the state you were in and concluded you were either from a fight or was beaten up

he recognized that and decided to just glare at you and go back to feeding the stray dogs and cats

you breathed a sigh in relief when he didnt yell at you bc that wouldve been the last thing you needed today

‘sir, im sorry for hitting you. if there is something i could do for you, dont hesitate’

he ignored you and you focused on him paying attention to the strays

going into your backpack, you had a milk carton and a sausage stick from earlier

you used your thermos lid to serve as the milk bowl for the cats while you peeled open the meat and used your scissors to cut chunks of it for the dogs to have some

kyotani watched as you went into action to feeding the animals that people usually ignored

he knew you

well, he recognized you

when he watched from the top of the gym, he saw you as their manager who ran around and helped everyone

sure, he still didnt trust you 

but he watched you grin and smile as the animals started to eat

‘im in a hurry right now so i have to go but ill feed you again tomorrow, okay? you too, stranger-san. ill bring food for you too’

then you stood up and ran away, probably in a hurry to fix that wound

he wouldve offered to treat it for you but he remained silent, watching the cats mewl at the now empty lid

the next day, oikawa was worried for you and when he saw you at early morning practice, he practically glomped to your side

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

to this day, no one still knew what happened to you

you kept it quiet and you were sure you got everything handled

except for one person

kyotani was smart and for some reason he knew you got beat up by the fangirls and the perpetrators were easily found bc he saw them huddled around your locker, probably trashing it again, and lets just say, 

no one is def going to mess w you now

back to manager moments!!

during practice matches, the boys rally around you to prevent other teams from sweet-talking you

they make sure no one gets past them and always have excuses to get your attention

you knew what they were doing but you pretended not to, heart warming at their protectiveness and hunger for your attention

even though you have your own jacket, the team gives you theirs all the time like oikawa has his special team jacket w his name at the back and when he feels threatened by schools like johzenji, he makes you wear it

‘youre mine, y/n-chan and i want that blondie to know’

‘ehm, no, oikawa-san. im iwaizumi-san’s’

oikawa screamed

lmao training camps w them is CHAOTIC

YOU WANT TO CRYYYYYY

OIKAWA IS CRYING BC IWAIZUMI IS BEATING HIM UP, MATSUHANA ARE FREAKING OUT THE FIRST YEARS ABOUT THE GHOSTS IN THE WOODS AND NOW KINDAICHI REFUSES TO LET GO OF YOU, WATARI GOT LOST GOING TO THE BATHROOM AND YAHABA IS SCREAMING ABOUT THE WEATHER MESSING UP HIS HAIR AND MAKING IT FRIZZY

reminder: threaten to quit everytime they get too much

your hugs are the best!!!!

you have a special hug for every player

oikawa gets his favorite which was the normal arm around the waist with your arms around his neck while he snuggles in your neck

iwa gets flustered easily so you hug him from behind so you cant see his flustered look

mattsun actually likes the jumping in the air so he catches you type of hug

makki is more tame and has his arms around your shoulder with his chin on your head

yahaba is the twirly kind where he just picks you up and swings you around

watari also gets flustered easily so he likes the one-arm hugs

kindaichi gets blushy at the slightest touch from you but he gives you a hug from behind you himself where he can bury his face in your hair while you caress his arms

kunimi, now he likes it when you squeeze him extremely tight bc it makes him feel loved and feel alive

kyo doesnt even talk to you what makes you think you can give him a hug

their lost for shiratorizawa really broke them though

you made them their own bentos for nearly a week to keep them encouraged and gave oikawa extra attention to keep him from sulking or practicing late

‘oikawa-senpai, lets go watch that new movie later’

‘S-S-SENPAI?!’

then the arrival of our baby kyoken

yahaba was moody the whole practice and you were currently trying to keep him from spiking a ball to someone

‘even just today, he’s late’

‘who?’

‘that stupid dog’

he just keeps mumbling and grunting

and then the said dog arrived

you peaked out from behind iwaizumi, who protectively went in front of you

shock ran through you and you pointed at him

‘puppy-kun!’

lmao puppy what

youve called him that since he refused to tell you his name, but you call him that bc he paid special attention to this one baby beagle

he raised a hand in greeting and you gave him a smile

‘youre a player here, too?!’

he ‘glared’ at you but nodded stiffly

the team really thought that he would lash out at you but he is surprisingly tolerant

the power of the manager

he still hasnt talked to you but he does respond to you and even helps you with chores, still not talking ofc

hes so tsun tsun and he deserves my heart yall

however, youve heard him talk to iwaizumi, and iwaizumi only, so youve heard his voice before

ngl, you were flustered by how gruff and deep it was

then their loss to karasuno

bruh, it was KARASUNO

the entire team fell apart and after the match, each of them ran away from you to stop lashing out

you were also on the verge of crying, seeing the broken look on your third years

your precious third years

you decided to give them their own space but you heard a loud banging sound from the bathroom

yahaba and watari were outside, clearly trying to talk to someone in there on coming out but it got louder

okay you were lowkey like, ‘hm, i should not be here’

but you recognized that voice

you knocked at the boys door to be respectful

‘kyo-san? its me, y/n’

he was silent but he did unlock it

you took this as a sign to enter and you gave yahaba and watari a smile

‘i’ll be fine. go to kindaichi and kunimi. they need your comfort right now’

tbh, you were surprised the bathroom was still intact but you saw the stall door at the very end being rattled and shaken

you remained by the door but you wanted to go to him

‘kyo-san, please come out so i can treat your injuries’

he expected you to say those words like ‘its okay’ or ‘theres always next year’ but you didnt

instead, you knew he was hurt and wanted to help him

he continued to give a few punches to the wall and the door before emerging

you wordlessly treated the wounds and offered your hand

‘im here, kyo-san. dont worry, im right here’

at the ramen shop, you told them to eat as much as they want and wordlessly gave them your card, slightly crying inside bc you know this was going to be like over a hundred dollars

but you were treating the boys bc they deserved it

you sat beside kindaichi, who was just sobbing and apologizing, so you were wiping his tears and holding his hand under the table

this precious babie

bruh i was sobbing when i watched this part like uuggghhhh

after dinner, you walked with the other third years, knowing they would go to the gym, so you gave everyone else your special hugs before sending them home

‘text me when you arrive safely, okay?’

‘yes, mom’

‘KINDAICHI WHAT’

oikawa’s speech made you cry bc despite only knowing them for not even a year, you already feel like a family

you didnt want your family to be broken but you knew they would all go their separate ways eventually

there was a big hug pile of third years on the side where you took a picture and sent it to the group chat

you had to eventually go home after helping them clean up and when you checked your phone, a fresh batch of tears rolled down

each from every person on the team but with the same sentence and same words

‘we love you, l/n y/n. thanks for everything.’

ngl i dont think this was that good and its like 8 in the morning and im extremely tired

i want to do karasuno, nekoma, and fukurodani but im so exhausted i cannot right now

[selfignitingimagines]

Stiles- If I Can’t Have You, No One Can (Obsessed Part 4)

A/N: When I was initally writing this series I had a set plan for where I wanted it to end and how. I was recently rewatching the last few episodes of season 2 and I got struck with some inspiration. Let me know down below if you guys want a part 5 so I can continue the series!

TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking, kidnapping

Here are the links for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“Right there!” Stiles cried, frantically gesturing toward the computer screen on his dad’s desk. “Stop! Stop! See? There he is again.”

They were scrolling through hours of security footage recorded at the hospital the night one of Matt’s victims was killed. So far, all they had managed to capture were shots of him with his back turned. This tape was no different. 

“You mean there’s the back of his head again,” the Sheriff told him. 

“Okay, but look. He’s talking to someone!”

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze. His eyes widened. “He’s talking to my mom.”

He hastily pulled out his phone out of his jeans and called his mom, hoping she would be able to confirm that it was Matt. Stiles tapped his foot nervously as they talked. His shoulders slumped in relief when he heard her say that Matt was the one she had seen. 

“Alright,” the Sheriff said when she hung up. He picked up a manila evidence folder from his desk. 

“We’ve got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site...”

“And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders,” Stiles said. “The trailer, the hospital, and the rave.”

“Actually four,” the Sheriff told him, flipping through the documents in the folder. “A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt a few hours before the murder.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, Dad, if one’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern, what’s four?”

“Four’s enough for a warrant.”

Stiles curled his fist in triumph. “We can find Y/n.”

“Scott, call your mom back. See how quickly she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott’s mom in when she gets here.”

 “On it.” Stiles nodded hastily and turned down the hall. 

His whole body was humming with adrenaline now. He had spent the whole night terrified, wondering what Matt was doing to you. Stiles knew you were probably betting on the fact that they would find you. After all, it was what he would have done in your situation. 

You have saved each other plenty of times before, and now it was his turn again. He knew he could do it, he just wasn’t sure what Matt would do to you in the meantime. 

Stiles had tried his best to protect you, but he knew it hadn’t been enough. He should have pushed harder when he suggested you go to the police the other night. He should have kept a closer eye on you at the party, but he had been too caught up in his own issues. 

He tried to shake off those thoughts as he walked down the halls of the station, telling himself that he still had time to make up for it. He had told you the other night that everything he did was to keep you safe, and that was still true. 

As he rounded the corner of the hall, Stiles realized that the officer on duty was no longer standing at the front desk. 

“Hello?” he called, looking around for her. 

That was when he noticed her black combat boot sticking out from behind the corner of the desk. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he realized she was lying on the floor among a mess of fallen papers. Her eyes were wide open, but they weren’t moving, and her tan uniform was stained dark red with blood.

She was dead, but as Stiles took in the horrific sight, he also noticed another chilling detail. The holster on her hip was empty. Someone had taken her gun. 

Stiles stumbled back, turning around, only to come face to face with you.“Y/n?”

Tears were slipping from your eyes, and your lip was trembling. You looked terrified, standing there in your disheveled dress. It was the same one you had been wearing at the party last night.

Matt was standing behind you, one hand one your shoulder as he pressed the dead officer’s gun into your back. 

“If you make one move I’ll shoot her,” he told Stiles. 

Stiles reluctantly held up his hands. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed, but he shook his head. You had to know this wasn’t your fault. 

Matt kept the barrel of the gun pressed against your back as Stiles led you further into the station. He turned into his dad’s office, and you realized that the Sheriff and your brother were also there. 

“Y/n!” Scott cried. 

He started forward, but Matt ordered him to stop, waving the gun so he and the others could see it. 

“Matt,” the Sheriff said slowly. He held up his hands. 

“It’s Matt, right? Matt, whatever’s going on, I guarantee there’s a solution that doesn’t involve a gun.”

Matt’s lips curled into a sick grin. “You know it’s funny you say that, because I don’t think you’re aware of just how right you are.”

“I know you don’t wanna hurt people-”

“Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You four weren’t on my list, but I could be persuaded...and one way is to try calling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing.”

Scott ripped his hand out of his pocket, looking between you and Stiles apologetically.

“That...that could definitely get someone hurt.”

“Everyone?” Matt gestured with the gun, and you knew he was telling them to give up their phones. “Now!”

“Come on,” the Sheriff told the boys calmly. 

Stiles looked back at you. 

“Pretty sure he tossed mine out the window last night,” you muttered. 

Matt led the four of you to the tiny jail at the back of the station. There, he made Stiles handcuff his dad to a bench. You felt your stomach drop. Now the three of you were completely on your own with Matt.

He waved the three of you in front of him and forced you to walk up to the front of the station. As you passed by another hallway, you gasped.

Three other officers were lying in the hallway and all of them appeared to be dead. Their chests had been ripped open so forcefully that every wall around them was splattered with blood. 

You looked away, fighting the urge to vomit. 

“What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?” Scott demanded.

“No,” Matt said with a scoff. “That’s what Jackson’s for. I just think about killing them...and he does it.”

He forced you back into Stilinski’s office, where he made Stiles log into his dad’s computer. Matt had him delete every bit of evidence, including the video footage of him at the hospital. Scott was destroying the paper evidence in the shredder, including the shoe prints that would have matched Matt’s boots. 

Stiles glared at Matt from behind the desk, wanting to rip him apart as he stroked his fingers down your hair. He had forced you to sit next to him on the couch, and you were currently staring intently at the tiled floor. 

Stiles had already seen the bruises Matt had left on your throat. The only thing keeping him from jumping across that desk was the knowledge that Matt would have Jackson rip all of you to pieces at a moment’s notice. 

“Deleted,” he told Matt bitterly, gesturing toward the computer. “And we’re done. So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it, because they killed you first-whatever that means-we’re good here, right? I’ll just get my dad and we’ll go. You know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing, enjoy the Kanima.”

Before he could respond, the glow of headlights swept through the windows. You could hear tires crunching on the gravel of the parking lot outside.

“Sounds like your mom’s here,” Matt told you and Scott.

“Matt, don’t do this,” you begged. 

“When she comes to the door, we’ll just tell her to leave,” Scott added. “I’ll tell her we didn’t find anything! Please, Matt.”

The sound of the metal door creaking open echoed through the station, and Matt grinned. “If you don’t move now, I’m gonna kill Y/n first, and then your mom.”

He pressed the gun up against your back, and Scott glared at him. Matt pulled you up by the back of your dress and gestured for Scott and Stiles to go first. 

“Open it,” he ordered Scott, when you had made your way back to the front lobby.

“Please,” Scott begged one more time.

“Open. The. Door,” Matt told him, enunciating each word carefully. 

Scott reached out, shaking his head regretfully. When he turned the knob, the door slowly creaked open to reveal the person standing there. It wasn’t your mom, but Derek Hale. 

“Oh thank god,” Scott breathed. 

But Derek simply stared at him. Then, he pitched forward and slammed straight onto the floor below. Jackson was standing behind him, half transformed. He held up one scaly hand, still dripping with clear venom, and stalked into the lobby.

Matt walked over and knelt in front of Derek, flipping him on his back. He was now completely paralyzed.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the floor. “This kid?”

“Well, Derek, not everyone’s lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf.”

Matt straightened up, glancing between you, Scott, and Stiles. “That’s right! I’ve learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas...it’s like a freakin’ halloween party every full moon.”

He smirked. “Except for you Stiles. What do you turn into?”

Stiles glared at him. 

“Abominable snowman,” he snarked. “But it’s more of, like, a wintertime thing. You know...seasonal.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and in seconds, Jackson was swiping his claws across the back of Stiles neck.

“Hey!” you cried. 

“Bitch,” Stiles swore at Matt, before his knees went out from under him. He crashed onto the ground, right on top of Derek’s chest. 

“Get him off of me,” Derek growled. 

Matt laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must suck though, having all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you’re not used to feeling this helpless.”

Derek glared up at him from the floor. “Still got some teeth. Scoot down here a little closer, huh? We’ll see how helpless I am.”

“Yeah, bitch.”

Stiles’ voice was muffled from being facedown against Derek’s chest, but you couldn’t help but smile. 

For the second time that night, headlights flashed through the windows of the sheriff’s station. You could hear another car pulling to a stop outside. 

“Is that your mom?” Matt asked. “Do what I tell you to, and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her. 

“Scott, don’t trust him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt.

Scott remained frozen in front of the door, but Matt was impatient. He reached forward, snatching you by your hair and tugging you back against him. He wrapped his arm around your neck, squeezing against your windpipe and cutting off your breath.

“This work better for you?” he asked Scott.

You reached up, scratching at his arms, but he didn’t even flinch. 

“Okay, stop, just stop,” your brother begged. 

“Then do what I tell you to!” Matt spat. 

“Okay, alright, stop!”

Matt finally let you go, right as you were on the verge of blacking out. You hit the floor on your hands and knees, gasping and dizzy from the lack of oxygen. 

“You,” Matt said, gesturing to Jackson. “Take them in there. You two, with me.”

He yanked you up off the ground by your arm, and gestured for Scott to open the door as Jackson hauled Derek and Stiles out of the lobby. 

When the door finally opened, Matt pulled you behind the corner of the hallway. You could hear the door squeaking open, and your mom asking “Scott?”

You were trembling as Matt held you back against his chest. What would he do to your mom?”

“You scared me,” you heard her say. “Where is everyone?”

That was when Matt shoved you out in front of him. Your mom gasped your name. As far as she had known, you were still missing. 

When she saw Matt come out behind you and press the gun against your back, she froze. 

“Mom,” Scott told her nervously. “Just do what he says. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He’s right,” Matt agreed. 

Then, he raised the gun, and shot Scott in the stomach. You and your mom both screamed, but as she rushed forward, Matt pointed the gun at you. 

“But I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Scott was holding himself up using the wall, just barely managing to not fall to his knees. He had one hand pressed against his side, and blood was beginning to pool through his shirt. You knew he would heal from the gunshot wound, but your mom didn’t.

She tried to step forward, but Matt waved the gun.

“Back! Back!” he ordered. 

“Mom,” Scott choked. “Mom, do it. Please mom.”

You could hear Stiles' dad from all the way at the back of the station. He had undoubtedly heard the gunshot. 

“Matt! Matt, listen to me-!”

“Shut up!” Matt roared. “Shut up! Everybody shut the hell up!”

He gestured to Scott before training the gun back on you. “Get up, or I shoot your sister next.”

“Please,” your mom begged. Tears were running down her cheeks. “He needs to see a doctor.”

Matt tilted his head. “You think so?”

“It’s alright,” Scott insisted. “I’m okay.”

“No, sweetie, you’re not,” your mom insisted. 

She began to babble about how he was just feeling the adrenaline, how he needed to get to the hospital. You looked over at your brother, and he met your eyes. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his secret after this, provided you all made it out alive.

“They have no idea, do they?” Matt asked you. 

You didn’t answer him. Your mom was still trying to convince Matt to let her take Scott to the hospital. 

“Lady, if you keep talking, I’m going to put the next bullet in her head.”

He raised the gun to your skull. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the barrel of the gun against your skin.

Your mom took a deep breath, and held up her hands. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving wet lines of black mascara. “Okay...okay.”

Matt shoved you in front of him, pushing you down the hall. He paraded you back through the station, and locked your mom into the cell next to the bench Stilinski was cuffed to. 

When Matt shut the cell door, your mom reached out through the bars, grasping your hand tightly. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, tears slipping from your own eyes. “I’m okay. Stiles and Scott made sure I was safe.”

“Back to the front McCall!” Matt barked. “Both of you!”

You glanced back at your mom reluctantly as Matt shoved you in front of him. He walked behind you and your brother as you headed out into the hallway. Then, he herded you into the station breakroom. 

There were a few tables and some chairs, but even though you were exhausted, you were too afraid to sit down. Scott leaned against one of the tables, still grasping his bloody side. You guessed the wound wasn’t fully healed yet. If the bullet hadn’t exited, it wouldn’t be able to close unless someone pulled it out. 

“The evidence is gone,” Scott told him. “Why don’t you just go?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “You really think the evidence mattered that much? No. No, I want the book.”

“What book?” Scott asked him,

“The bestiary!” Matt snarled. “And not just a few pages. I want the entire thing.”

“I don’t have it. It’s Gerard’s. You told him that, didn’t you?” He was looking at you now. You shrugged. “I tried.”

Scott glanced back over at Matt. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“I need answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Frustrated, Matt yanked up the edge of his shirt, revealing his scale-covered side. “To this!”

Scott’s eyes went wide. If Matt was turning into another kanima, there was nothing stopping him from killing whoever he wanted. When you looked at your brother’s face, you had the sneaking suspicion that you two would be next on his list. 

------

Stiles laid on the floor of the station, staring up at the ceiling. The tiled floor was cold against his back, which was a welcome relief considering sweat was dripping down his neck. He wasn’t sure whether it was just hot in the station, or if he was nervous. If he was being honest, it was both. 

He and Derek had been lying there for what felt like hours, but Stiles knew it was probably only thirty minutes. 

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you know what’s happening to Matt?”

“I know the book’s not gonna help him,” Derek said grimly. “You can’t just break the rules. Not like this.”

Stiles tried to look over at him from the corner of his eye. 

“What do you mean?”

“The universe balances things out. It always does.”

“Is it because he’s using Jackson to kill people who don’t deserve it?”

“And killing people himself,” Derek added.

Stiles thought for a moment. “So if he breaks the rules of the Kanima, he becomes the Kanima?”

“Balance,” Derek agreed.

“Will he believe us if we tell him that?”

“Probably not.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay, he’s gonna kill all of us once he gets that book, isn’t he?”

“Yep...except for maybe Scott’s sister.”

Stiles gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna kick his ass the second I can move again.”

“That’s a great way to get her throat ripped out too.”

Stiles didn’t respond. He knew Derek was right, but a part of him wanted to go after Matt without thinking about the consequences. He knew he had left those bruises on your neck. He knew that the minute you shattered Matt’s fantasy, he would kill you too. He had to do something before that happened. 

“I know you’re in love with her.”

Stiles swallowed at Derek’s words. “Maybe.”

“I can tell. I know you’d do anything to save her, but right now, we need to be smarter.”

“Alright,” Stiles relented. “So what do we do? Do we just sit here and wait to die?”

“Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body faster, like triggering the healing process.”

“Wha-”

He glanced down, only to realize that Derek’s claws were now protruding from his fingers. They had grown into his jeans, right into his skin, where blood was beginning to ooze.

Stiles gagged. “Oh, gross.” 

-----

Back in the breakroom of the station, Matt shook his head, letting his shirt fall back down. He glanced between you and Scott.

 “You know, I feel sorry for you guys. Cause right now you’re probably thinking ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’. And the sad part is, you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you are healing. Cause you know what happens to anyone else when they get shot? They die!”

You and Scott exchanged uneasy glances.

 “Is that what happened to you?” your brother asked.

Matt was silent. He was staring at the ground, but he didn’t look as vicious as he had earlier. He actually seemed kind of tired. Scott seemed to notice this too, so he continued to press. 

“You drowned, didn’t you?”

“He shouldn’t have let them drink,” Matt muttered, still staring at the floor.

“What?” you asked. “Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

“Lahey!” He suddenly exploded. “He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

You flinched back, closer to your brother.

“What?” Scott asked. “Who was drinking?”

“The swim team, you idiot! I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know they had just won State…”

You and Scott listened to Matt as he went on and on. He explained how, when he was in eighth grade,  he had been heading over to Isaac’s to trade comics. Mr. Lahey was throwing a party for his swim team and letting them drink around the pool. All of Matt’s victims had been there. Tucker, Cara, Bennett, even Jessica and Shawn, the married couple.

 They were joking around when Matt came into the backyard, tossing each other into the pool. Isaac’s brother Camden decided to throw Matt in too. They didn’t know he couldn’t swim.

“And the next thing I know, I’m lying by the pool,” Matt explained. “And Lahey’s standing over me, and he’s saying ‘You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing. You tell no one.’ And I didn’t.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I would wake up every night, gasping for breath. My parents thought I was an asthamatic. They even got me and inhaler. They didn’t know that everytime I closed my eyes, I…I was drowning.”

He was silent for a few moments, and then he looked back at you and Scott. “And then came Kate Argent’s funeral.”

His lips began to curl into a smile as he explained how he had realized he and Jackson were bonded. 

“I was taking some photos, and then, purely by accident, Lahey gets in one of them. I looked down at my camera, and I just had this unbelievable rage that filled up inside of me. I looked at him and I just...I wanted to see him dead.”

Matt let out a disbelieving laugh. “And the next day, he actually was! You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology, like...like the Furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He looked over at Scott, who was staring at him, dumbfounded. Matt rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”

Scott swallowed. “Was that...was that the guy that stabbed out his eyes.”

“That’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Matt barked. 

His gaze snapped over at you. “You know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

You nodded carefully. “The furies were deities of vengeance, weren’t they?”

 Matt nodded. “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If there was a crime that had gone unpunished, the Furies would do the punishing. Jackson is my Fury. You know, when I saw him the next night, I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again.”

Matt began to smile to himself again. “So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me! So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera...and in a few hours, he was dead. So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture, and Jackson would take their life.”

You glanced over at Scott, who looked just as concerned as you were. Matt was giving no indication that he would stop the killings. You were pretty sure that he and Stiles were next on his list. 

Scott opened his mouth, maybe to try and convince Matt to let you all go, but he never got the chance to speak. The thick, acrid smell of smoke filled the air, and suddenly the room was engulfed in a white cloud. 

Sirens began to wail, echoing through the halls of the station. They let out a sharp, bleating sound that hurt your ears.

“What is this?!” Matt demanded. “What’s happening? What’s going on?!”

He suddenly reached out, snatching you by the arm.

“I don’t know!” Scott cried. “Y/n, where are you?”

“I’m right here!” 

He reached out, trying to see if he could grab you, but Matt yanked you backward against him. He pressed his gun against your side and forced you out the nearest exit.

Bright yellow emergency lights began to flicker, illuminating the breakroom. Jackson passed you and Matt as you left the room. He was headed right toward Scott. You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he dug his nails into your arm. 

“Scott!” you screamed.

“I’ll have Jackson rip your mom apart next,” he snarled. 

He dragged you through the halls of the station, keeping the gun pressed tightly against your side. The smoke was starting to dissipate now, and the flashing lights ensured that Matt knew where he was going. 

He shoved open a door and hauled you into a darkened garage. The long room was bordered by bay doors on one side. A few desks littered the room, but it was mostly filled with police squad cars or transport vans.

Matt dragged you past tool carts and spare tires, and you struggled not to trip.

“Please, Matt,” you begged. “Just let me go.”

“Shut up!” Matt snapped. He looked around frantically until he spotted a door with a glowing, red exit sign. He pushed you toward it and forced you outside. 

Cool air hit your face as you stepped out into the night, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it. He broke into a run, keeping one hand on your arm as he pulled you further from the building. Panic began to build in your chest.

  A couple hundred yards ahead, the clearing you and Matt were running through ended with a line of trees. There was a small creek running at the edge of it. Farther downstream, a bridge crossed over the water. Matt began to pull you in the opposite direction. 

Suddenly, you stumbled, falling onto your knees in the grass. Matt reached down to haul you up, but when his guard was down, you knocked the gun out of his hand. It landed somewhere in the grass, and he was unable to see where it went in the dark. 

You scrambled onto your feet as Matt felt for the gun in the grass, but when he realized you were running, he abandoned it. 

“No!”

He tackled you to the ground before you could even make it five feet away, and the impact knocked the wind out of you. 

You squirmed, but he quickly pinned you down into the grass. 

“Get off me!” you gasped, but his hands were pressing your wrists into the grass. 

He smiled down at you, but there was an empty look in his eyes. Your heart began to pound even harder against your chest.

“Do you remember when I said that I’m not the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

You writhed under him, but your exhaustion had caught up with you. He was much stronger, and now that he was turning into another kanima, you didn’t have a chance of fighting him off.

Matt didn’t wait for you to respond to him. He just kept talking and grinning down at you with that sick look in his eyes. 

“See, that’s not entirely true,” he mused. “Because, Y/n, if I can’t have you. No one can.”

Then his hands were on your neck, squeezing. You fought him, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. He was going to kill you. 

You reached up, scratching at his hands and wrists. You could feel his skin peeling away under your nails and the warm, wet blood you were drawing. Still, it wasn’t enough. 

Your vision was beginning to cloud. Your attempts to fight him off were growing weaker by the second. All you could think of was Stiles. 

The two of you always seemed to be saving each other in one way or another. This time, you had hoped he would be able to rescue you, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. You knew there was no use in hoping for anything else. 

Instead, you tried to think about something good. As your mind wandered, you thought of Stiles’ honey brown eyes. You thought of the surprise and delight on his face when you said something funny that he hadn’t expected. You remembered the way he had kissed you the night at the rave, his hands warm on your cheeks. 

Everything was beginning to go dark, but you were content. You swore you could hear Stiles’ voice, warm and soothing...and then it was gone. 

You opened your eyes, taking one painful, gasping breath. Matt’s weight was no longer on top of you. You rolled over onto your side, desperately sucking in air as you struggled to lift yourself up into a sitting position in the grass. 

You looked around, wondering what had happened. That was when you saw Matt being dragged down the hill by Gerard Argent, of all people. You didn’t understand what was happening at first, but then, Gerard threw him down into the bed of the creek. 

Gerard waded out until he was knee-deep in the water. Then he grabbed Matt by his t-shirt and thrust his head under water. You watched, horrified, as he drowned him in the creek. 

That was when you ran, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure Gerard wouldn’t follow you. He didn’t even look up. Either he would come after you later, or he just didn’t care.

You sprinted past the bridge, only to have a pair of arms reach out and snatch you back. You opened your mouth to scream, but a hand clamped down over your lips, muffling the sound.

You were pushed up against the side of the bridge, the rough stone scraping against your back. When you saw who had grabbed you, your eyes went wide. It was Peter Hale.

It suddenly crossed your mind that maybe you hadn’t escaped Matt in the clearing. Maybe you were dead. Maybe that was why you were face to face with Peter, whose throat Derek had slashed open last month. 

He held one finger to his lips as he stared down at you, and while you should have been terrified, you had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Watch,” he said quietly.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around, forcing you to look back at Matt and Gerard. You could see Matt’s motionless body floating in the water. Gerard was now standing up on the bank of the creek, his clothes still dripping wet. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t seem to matter, because what you saw next told you everything you needed to know. 

The Kanima was creeping out from the shadows, wandering toward Gerard on its hands and feet. Instead of running, Gerard lifted one arm and raised his palm. The Kanima moved closer, hesitantly. Then it lifted up one scaly, clawed hand, and touched its palm to Gerard’s.

He was now its master. 

“Go,” Peter urged in your ear. “Tell your brother what you saw.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Why?”

A smile played at the edge of Peter’s lips. “I have a feeling we’re all on the same team now.”

He let go of your shoulders and you slowly backed away from him, keeping your eyes trained on his shadowy form the entire time. When you were a few yards away, you turned your back and took off running toward the station.

Your chest was burning as you raced back toward Scott and the others. When you pushed open the doors of the station, several officers whirled around and trained their guns on you. You guessed Stiles’ dad had called for backup at some point. 

As you threw up your hands, you were able to see the Sheriff, your mom, and Stiles all standing in the lobby.

“Y/n!” Stiles cried. “Oh thank god.”

The officers lowered their guns, and Stiles rushed over. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. You froze in his arms, not quite sure how to handle his touch. The feeling of being caged against him made your skin crawl. Though you hated to admit it, it reminded you of Matt.

He pulled away suddenly, realizing you weren’t reciprocating. 

“Hey...are-are you okay?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The lights of the station were too bright, and the sound of the deputies’ boots thumping on the floor caused you to flinch. You didn’t even know where to start.

Stiles watched in shock as you suddenly burst into tears. He wanted to reach out and hold you, but by the way you had just reacted, he was afraid to touch you. 

“Oh, uh…”

Before he could think of anything to say, your mom rushed over and put a hand on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet, Sweetheart.”

She cast a sympathetic glance in Stiles’ direction and led you down the hall. The Sheriff followed after the two of you, no doubt planning to take your statement. Matt was nowhere to be found, and Stiles was willing to bet you knew what happened to him.

He wanted to follow, but he knew if he did, his dad would just kick him out of the room. You were a witness now, and they would need an official statement from you. 

Scott came jogging down the hallway. Stiles realized he must have heard you come back.

By then, the door to the office you had disappeared into was shut. 

Scott headed over to Stiles. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “But I don’t think your sister’s okay.”

[realcube]

✦ tenya iida x reader

✦ thank you to @coledrawsstuff​ for the request

✦ tw mentions of death, pot noodle & f!reader

[8:49 PM] 

“is that really the time?” you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth as you stared at the little timestamp in the corner of your message to your partner for your physics project — the class representative, tenya iida.

honestly, it was sheer luck that you were assigned to do this project, which would make up to 20% of your final grade, with one of the smartest students in your class, who you also happened to have a slight crush on but considering how awkward you were around each other, perhaps that had nothing to do with fortune. 

but now you were texting him at ungodly hours at night! well, ungodly for him at least since iida was the one who infamously imposed the eight o’clock bedtime on everyone back when class 1-A stayed in the dorms. anyway, what would he think of you if he sees that you are staying up late and messaging him — only about the project but still — he’ll probably think you are some sort of loser that has nothing better to than message him at night-time with silly inquir-- oh, he replied.

you clicked on the notification that flashed across your screen to view the reply he sent.

[/PHOTO ID: text messages between the reader and iida that read as follows. reader says “Cool! When would you like me to drop the project off at yours? Anytime this week works for me btw!” and Iida replies “Good evening, L/N! It’s nice to hear from you. Also, would right now work for you? Starting tomorrow, I have a hero training with my father so I won’t be home. I’d understand if you are apprehensive to walk over here at night time, though. I could send a chauffer to drive you if you’d like. END ID.]

another involuntary gasp escaped your mouth. shock from both the fact that he was also up late texting you, and how he just offered that you come round to his house at such time. 

you lay frozen, your mind hazy with unrelated thoughts which you had to shake off so you could focus on the issue at hand. a part of you insisted that there was something that felt wrong about going to iida’s house so late at night. but an even louder voice in your mind reasoned that it was only a brief visit to drop off your project and your safety was basically ensured. also, if not today, then you’d probably never be able to find the time to deliver the project, assuming that the ‘hero training’ he mentioned lasted longer than a day.

the mental debate you held with yourself was over quickly as you realised that the only reason it felt ‘wrong’ to visit iida so late at night was because you were generally afraid of seeing him, in fear that you’d embarrass yourself. but the hero in you screamed the loudest today, saying that you could no longer let you shyness get the best of you and if you didn’t drop it off today, there was a chance that you’d have to kiss 20% of your grade goodbye. 

so without any further thought, you fingers worked on their own to type your reply.

[/PHOTO ID: a singular imessage the reader sends that reads “Okay! But there’s really no need for anything fancy. I think I’ll just hire a taxi.” END ID]

a proud smile played on your features as you finally set your phone down with a sigh, about to grab your cash and start getting ready until you noticed another pop up on your screen.

[/PHOTO ID: a singular imessage the reader is sent from iida that reads “Great! Also, the chauffeur is already on their way.” END ID]

you thought he was joking but when a person in a suit, driving a slick, navy car pulled up outside your house, the reality of the situation came crashing down on you all too late. 

it was a well-know fact that Iida came from a long line of heroes so he was quite well-off, but you never thought they were this well-off. and your shock only grew when you were cowering in the black leather back seats, cradling the project against your chest, peering out the window as the car finally arrived at the iida family’s grand estate. 

not only was it absolutely massive in size, everything from the tall marble pillars — or at least, designed to resemble marble — to the perfectly trimmed hedges, just screamed affluence. 

this image was only furthered after the driver let you out by the imposing, and rather intimidating, double doors of the house yet your eyes remained glued to the car for another few seconds, hence you were able to watch as the vehicle drove right into huge garage tucked away at the side of the house, filled with many other automobiles, too many for you to count in the few moment you were given to gawk at it. however, all you needed to notice was how every other car was a shade of blue and the ones lined up at the front were clearly more pimped out than the rest. 

you were suddenly snapped out of your trance by a tap on your shoulder, your eyes only widening more when you jolted around to meet the gaze of tenya, who’s piercing red eyes contrasted greatly with the warm smile gracing his features. “(l/n)! i’m glad to see you!” as always, his voice was loud and almost echoed off the hedges enclosing his estate. opening his arms, he planned on leaning in for a hug until you whipped out your free hand and held it out for him to shake. which he did, but his bright smile began to visibly waver. 

“is that the project?” he inquired, motioning to the ring binder tucked under your arm. 

“yeah.” you muttered, silently offering it out to him while mentally cringing and rebuking yourself for being so awkward about the hug. but your bustling thoughts all halted when you noticed iida’s attire as he gratefully took the project from you, “why are you wearing a suit?” you inquired, suddenly feeling quite undressed since you were under the impression that this exchange would be brief and casual so you didn’t throw on anything fancy. although, thinking back on it now, considering that iida offered to have you escorted to his house in a private car, you should’ve known that everything about the family was ‘fancy’. 

his lips pressed together to form a straight line as he clutched the project tightly to his chest. recalling earlier when he first got the message that you were coming over, one of the first things he did was rush into the shower, but not before kindly asking his mother or tensei to start preparing an extra meal as he’ll be having a guest. once he hopped out of the bathroom, he changed into his favourite outfit and blow-dried his hair to style it with great precision. honestly, he felt quite giddy, like he was preparing for his first date. 

but this wasn’t a date, of course! this was simply a classmate of his coming over to drop off a project! the only reason he dressed up was because he has to maintain the pristine reputation of the iida family. not because he wanted you to like him or anything. absolutely not. 

eventually jolting out of his flashback, tenya blurted out, “oh, no reason.” his hand found it’s way to the back of his neck, rubbing it while being mindful not to mess up his hair. “anyway, have you had dinner yet?”

the rather random question caught you off guard slightly, but after a few moments of recollecting, you replied, “no. i was just about to heat up a pot noodle before i messaged you, though.” 

by the look on tenya’s face, it was as if you had just cursed out his entire bloodline. so you were quick to try ask what the problem was, until tenya answered on his own, accompanied by rapid hand-chopping, “pot noodle? i believe those are the things kaminari would ruin the microwave with back at the dorms. i checked the ingredients on those and they contain next to no nutritional value! as a hero-in-training, your body needs the proper nourishment to become strong and you’re not going to find any of it in a ‘pot noodle’.” 

lies. iida has had several pot noodles in his lifetime and everything is alright in moderation. however, this was just a ploy to convince you to stay and eat dinner with him. 

“come inside, (l/n). i insist that you have dinner here as we wait for the rain to pass.” though his ploy was filled with many holes, it still worked as the driver was no where to be seen and it’s not like you could walk home, so you had no choice but to comply as he excitedly ushered you inside. 

trying to be a gentleman, he offered to take your jacket from you so he could hang it up but that proved to be a challenge as you stood frozen, lips parted to form an ‘o’ shape as your new surroundings flooded over you, your only movement being the twisting of your neck as you tried to take it all in. 

perhaps it was an interior design illusion, but the foyer of the house seemed larger than the whole bottom floor of the UA dorms. though, as you continued to stare, you realised that probably had to do with how it was a part of a longer, regally decorated hallway which iida was current dragging you through. 

“huh?” you gasped, finally coming to your senses at the feeling of his grip on your shoulder. “where are we going?” besides his palm, your shoulders felt bare, which is how you realised that iida miraculously managed to take your jacket off you while you were stunned. 

“to dinner, of course!” 

he was being serious about that?! you weren’t ready to have a whole meal in his house! especially after you have seen how lavish he lives, you don’t know how to eat like a rich person!

but before you could even object to his statement, he pulled you straight into his equally stately dining room which you didn’t even have the time to admire as a lady had sprung directly in front of you.  “oh! you must be tenya’s partner--”

heat rose to the boy’s face, making exaggerated chopping motions between you and his mum out of instinct, “physics partner!” he hastily corrected, voice cracking slightly.

“yes, physics partner.” she pursed her lips as she visibly tried to stifle a giggle, “well, it’s lovely to meet you. i’m tenya’s mother.” she bowed, which you were quick to reciprocate before tenya tugged you over to the dinner table so he could show you to your seat, but his actions immediately resulted in a brief rebuking from his older brother who was already seated opposite you. 

“don’t manhandle our guest.”

“apologies.” tenya responded seriously to tensei’s clearly joking tone. though, to him, the idea of mistreating his guest was not a joking matter as he wanted you to feel as comfortable in his house as you would at your own. 

both tenya and his mother rushed off to grab dinner as well as condiments, leaving you and tensei alone in awkward silence for a good few minutes. although, as soon as they left the room, he began trying to pick up a conversation with you without delay. 

“i never thought this day would come. it’s nice to finally meet you, (l/n).”

why did he sound like a super villain? although his tone seemed far from sinister, his somewhat ominous statement resulted in a shiver running down your spine. what did he mean by ‘finally’? and how did he know your name?!

“it’s nice to meet you too.” you muttered, lowering your head to vaguely bow but also so he wouldn’t notice as you cast glances from side-to-side in search of anything suspicious. 

“i’m tensei iida! although, you may know me as pro-hero ingenium. i took the--”

“no, i’ve never heard of you.”

his bright, bold smile instantaneously fell into a deadpan expression. “oh.” he breathed, the life seeming to have drained from his demeanour as he silently stared into the distance as if the gears had stopped spinning behind his eyes, leaving you with plenty of time to regret your words and shrink back in your chair. 

just as you were ready to shrivel up and out of existence, the man let out a hearty chuckle, “you’re a funny one, (l/n)! it’s a treat to have you on this special day.” 

a sigh of relief passed your lips at his response; the last thing you wanted to do was get off on the wrong foot with him solely due to a comment without any forethought. after you the ease had washed over you, your mind eventually processed what he had said and you were hasty to inquire, “hm? special day? what do you mean?” as you were almost certain that there was no well-known, publicly celebrated holiday today — nor did it seem to be anybody’s birthday.

tensei’s features wavered to reflect slight shock for a moment, until it went back to his default kind smile, “did tenya not tell you? hm, odd. he usually jumps at the opportunity to gush about our family history.” he joked light-heartedly, your visibly forced laugh prompting him to continue, “today’s the anniversary of the ingenium family’s first — documented — establishment. on this day, years ago, our ancestor entered the hero society, ready to save many lives and represent nobility under a name destined to be passed down for generations to come.” 

you nodded along, the amazed sparkle in your eyes bringing another deep chuckle to erupt from tensei’s throat, “seriously? so your whole family is a long line of heroes which began on this date?”

“yep. usually, the celebration would be a bit more extravagant than just the three of us — four years ago we rented a palace venue to accommodate to our vast number of guests — but due to recent circumstances, we decided to tone things down. plus, our dad is busy with his hero duties. at the rate crime is increasing nowadays, i’d probably be out too if it wasn’t for my injuries.” he said, awkwardly gesturing to his wheelchair with a weak smile, “anyway, we’re glad to have you, (l/n). we told tenya he was allowed to invite over a few friends because of the occasion but refused at first, so it was such a relief when he told us that his partner was coming over; he’s speaks highly of you and honestly, you’ve exceeded all of our expectations.” 

it was becoming almost impossible to hide how flustered you were since not only were you being showered by endless praise, but you also learned that apparently someone as well-rounded as iida thought highly of you. 

your throat ran dry and your mind was bustling with endless worries about your appearance and questions in regards to what you have been told, though that wasn’t reflected by your dazed expression. as the silence lingering in the air became more and more penetrating, a part of you began screaming about how rude it was to remain quiet so with little to no prior thought, you stuttered out, “a-and i’m honored to be here. thank you so much for welcoming me!”

tensei wasn’t given the opportunity to reply due to iida and his mother marching in, each one cackling louder than the other, joking about incomprehensible topics as they laid down the plates of food in front the respective seats, being framed by the gleaming silver cutlery that had already been set. 

“thank you so much.” you spoke up to ensure everyone at the table heard you, watching carefully as your friend delivered your meal. “it looks delic--” it took you a moment to pry your eyes off of iida’s buff stature leaning over you, but once you did, you got an eyeful of the meal you were given permission to ingest for free.

pot noodle.

it was as if you were struck down by lightening from the gloomy cloud which had been looming over you this whole time. was a nice dinner too much to ask for? i mean, they were a rich family so something new —something besides pot noodle— should’ve been the standard, right?

feeling your heart tightening your chest, you clutch your shirt, trying to hide all sign of pain from your voice, “it- it looks delicious.” 

your comment brought him reassurance, resulting in iida peering over his shoulder to flash you a smile, but you only frowned when you noticed that he was having a pot noodle too; except his wasn’t in the pot either, instead it was presented in a polished porcelain plate, garnished with parsley. 

“i’m so glad you like it!” it was a challenge to stay dejected when there was a bright ray of sunshine sitting next to you. “i remembered how earlier you seemed disappointed that you couldn’t have your pot noodle, so i insisted that our chefs whip something up to ensure that you feel at-home — to accompany our other dishes, of course. think of it as an appetizer.”

you were busy internally scolding yourself for expecting so much from your friend just because he came from a more affluent background, but as if on cue, your interest was piqued by his final comment, “chefs? other dishes? what do you m--” before you could complete your inquiry, a bunch of people in chef whites came flooding into the dining hall, all pushing metal trollies carrying plates, shiny cloches and bottles resembling those that hold wine.

there was tens of people, each one with a trolley that transported at least three dishes, all dashing through the dining hall to circle the table until a man — who you assumed was the head cook — halted in front of iida’s mother, popped open the wine bottle in his hands and poured her a drink, swiftly rushing off back to the kitchen as the woman brought the glass up to her lips. the other chefs tailed the man, but not before flashing the mouth-watering meal under the cloche, as if they were teasing you!

however, you were too busy shooting them slight glares to even notice that they’d discreetly slip the dish onto the table before leaving so when you finally shifted your gaze back onto the table, you almost fell off your chair at the sight of all the inviting foods spread out in front of you, the navy tablecloth almost completely hidden by the many plates. 

apparently you didn’t even go to the subconscious effort of hiding your amazement as you heard your friend chuckle from beside you, “you look like you’ve never seen food before.”

your bottom lip immediately jutted out, dropping your brows to form an unimpressed look, “it’s just so much, and it all looks so good! how are the four of us gonna finish it?”

“no- i didn’t mean it in a rude way, i thought it was cute.” he muttered, his voice trailing off as you didn’t seem interested in his explanation, “well, we’ll probably save some leftovers for my father then give whatever we can to the less fortunate, and eat the rest over the course of the next few days.” 

“that’s nice.” you mused, subtly trying to grab a bread roll from the plate across from you, “but i think you can only donate canned food.” 

“we have plenty of that.” iida laughed, handing you the plate of bread rolls which you were clearly struggling to reach, “dig in. if there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

you flashed him a friendly smile, “thank you so much! you’re so kind, may i repay you sometime?” you weren't exactly sure what you could do that’d be of equal value to the literal feast in front of you, but that was a problem for future-(y/n) as present-(y/n) was busy enjoying the luxurious texture of the bread roll. 

you both shared a knowing look of ‘repay me how?’ yet he still murmured, “i’d be delighted.” then proceeded to grab the bowl of beef stew and pour himself some. 

“thank you for the food! it was delicious.” you beamed, wiping crumbs from the corner of your lip with a napkin which had been folded into the shape of crane. 

“oh, it’s no problem, dear. thank you for joining us today.” iida’s mother giggled from across the table, catching the attention of the other to boy which lead to tensei erupting into laughter too while tenya tugged on the sleeve of your shirt, a sheepish grin spreading across his features, “i think you are supposed to unfold the napkin before using it.”

it was as if all the blood in your body rushed to your head since you suddenly felt light-headed as you frantically flatten the paper out of it’s crane shape, “oh, of course! i should’ve guessed.”

the other two iida’s continued to cackle, pounding their fists against the table in glee with tears poking at the corners of their eyes, “oh, tenya, you picked the right girl. she’s a hoot!”

“a riot!” his brother agreed, causing you to nod awkwardly while tenya simply scowled, replying as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “that’s not as flattering as you think it is.” tenya grunted, his aura now seeming a lot darker and moodier than before. 

this reflected on the other two as they were quick to silence themselves upon noticing his unimpressed expression, shooting you apologetic looks until tenya sprung up from his chair, “i took a look at the forecast and the weather is predicted to worsen. in fact, they think a thunderstorm is on it’s way, hence i propose that (l/n) should stay the night in our guest bedroom.”

the boy paused, waiting for input from his mother who only shrugged and turned to you, “it’s up to (l/n). i have no problem with her staying over, actually i’d encourage it, for safety reasons.” 

now, all eyes were on you. 

tenya couldn’t help but crack a slight smile, twisting his neck to gaze excitedly down at you, “how about it, (l/n)? would you be able to stay the night?” 

perhaps you should’ve lied; but from the reassuring effect of tenya’s hand on your shoulder to how his mother listed off reasons for you to stay, it was almost inevitable that you said yes and were now being escorted to your room by her.

BONUS 

iida sat at the end of his bed in his pyjamas, drying his damp face with a towel, enjoying the serene atmosphere of his room until his bedroom door was slammed open, causing him to jump slightly. 

“calm down, it’s just me.” tensei chuckled at the stunned look on his brother’s face before wheeling himself closer to the boy, not feeling the need to be invited in — it was only his brother’s room, after all. 

“i’d appreciate it if you knocked next time.” 

“um,” tensei briefly stroked his chin in thought, “no!” he grinned, once again laughing at his brother’s forced scowl until he reached the foot of the bed, “kidding. but anyway, when’s the wedding?”

“what wedding?”

“why, the wedding between you and (l/n)!”

tenya’s eyes widened at his brother’s suggestion, averting his gaze to the calendar on his right, pretending to be interested in whatever the date was but in reality, they both knew he was just trying to hide his raging blush, “what are you on about? don’t go making these sorts of jokes in front of (y/n).”

not making any promises, the older boy simply poked his brother’s cheek, “first name basis, i see.” 

“stop that.”

“i saw how defensive you got over her earlier. plus, you get those icky puppy-love eyes whenever you talk about her.” his explanation only made tenya’s blush even more furious, and so the hand chopping began. “trust me. i was in your shoes not too long ago. for your information, i’m not some old man who’s never had romantic feelings before in his life; i’m well aware of what it’s like to have a crush so there’s no use trying to hide it from me any longer. i know a simp when i see one.”

“who even let you in here?!” tenya hissed, grabbing the handles of his brother’s wheelchair and pushing him out, “goodbye, ossan. come back and talk to me when you are feeling better in the head.”

“oi-” the door was slammed shut right in tensei’s face. 

that was the most disrespectful he’s ever seen his brother act towards him, and he was honestly kind of impressed. “tenya’s all grown up.” he mumbled to himself, wiping an invisible tear from his eye before wheeling himself back to his own room. 

[hansolmates]

g.p.s - god, parents suck | m

summary; seokjin just wants to enjoy the disney treatment and you are more than happy to deliver pairing; dilf!jin x hotelier!reader genre/warnings; crack, humor, gets a lil emotional, teenage daughter issues, one very minor allusion to a daddy kink LOL, a very vaguely implied sex scene, so CHEESY  w.c; est. 5.1k a/n; wee my first jin fic! this is for @btsghostiewritersnet​ #DynamiteDads event! I was supposed to go to disney this year but sadly miss rona had to cancel our plans so this is just pure self indulgence. as always thank u to @eerieedits​/ @chillingtae​ for the disney dream fic banner!

if you like it give it a bippity-boppity-boop on the like and share buttons! ✨✨✨

“Left, left!” Seokjin cries, holding onto the emergency break for dear life, “not my left, your left!” 

“We’re facing the same way! We have the same lefts!” 

“Clearly not if we’re going right, Sweetheart.” 

“But the GPS says to go right!” 

“In four-hundred feet, keep left at the fork,” Google Maps interrupts pleasantly.  

“That’s it. Kim Yeji, pull over!” 

“But Daaaaaaaaad,” yet his daughter complies, sadly pulling over at the edge of the road. She doesn’t even have to step on the gas, just turns the wheel slightly so she can land slowly, pathetically on the gravel. 

“Angel,” Seokjin says levelly, reaching over to unclick the seatbelt. “I will drive the rest of the way, I gave you time to practice for you have to drive to college but we can’t get on the highway like this.” 

“You never let me do anything.” 

“What, I do! Who let you go to prom in that sequined excuse for a dress?” 

“Uncle Namjoon!” 

“Fine, I’ll give him that! Who let you dye your hair to a crisp—” 

“Uncle Hoseok!” 

“Uncle–” Seokjin is affronted, jabbing the seatbelt in it’s locked position when he gets in the front seat. “Forget it, let’s just have a peaceful drive for the next few hours until we get to the hotel,” he removes Yeji’s phone from the holder, placing it in her lap. 

“Dad,” she waves her phone around, pointing to Google Maps, “you need the GPS to get there.” 

He scoffs, “No, I don’t. We’ve been to Disney plenty of times. I know where we’re going.” 

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time we went to Disney?” 

“When you were two? Three?” 

Yeji relaxes in her seat, not ready to argue with her dad once more. “Alright, lead the way,” she gestures vaguely to the empty parkway, devoid of life for miles. 

Seokjin is undeterred, reaching over the console to pat Yeji’s blonde hair. He turns on the radio, only to be met with the sound of crunchy static and terrible country music. Cutting the radio, he immediately switches to an old Disney CD, telling Yeji to let it go as he pulls into the open road. Reddish dust clouds around the car briefly, ripping against the tires as they drive off to their hotel. 

“Is this the Princess Hotel?” 

“Nope, this is the Prince S Hotel.” 

You can’t help but grin at the way your current customer’s face falls. He’s a handsome thing, all plush and pillowy in the cheeks and lips. Despite his daughter hanging off his arm like a limp noodle—after all it’s past 2AM and they’ve probably been driving for hours—he still manages to look somewhat put-together despite you telling him they’ve got the wrong place. 

“Told you, use the GPS,” her daughter chastises weakly, tucking her cheek in his shoulder. 

His kid’s a pretty girl, kind of reminds you of when you were a teenager. “The Princess Hotel is about an hour away on the other side of the Disney resorts,” you say slowly, noting from the way the girl is swaying on her feet that her father must be equally as tired, “although, I would suggest staying here for the night. Your daughter’s about to fall asleep on my counter.” 

At the pointed look you’re giving the teen, Seokjin puts a protective hand on her slim shoulders. “Yeji-bear, why don’t you lie down for a bit,” he leads her over to a spare couch. “We’ll call our booked hotel,” he says shortly, looking over his shoulder to give you a forced smile. 

Ah, you’ve seen this scene one or two times in your days working at Prince S. A father too prideful to admit he may have messed up just a little with the directions, and a child that probably argued or simmered so hard on the way they’re passed into a stupor on your lobby couch. Tonight, or your early morning is a little special though, you’ve never seen a father as handsome as the one in front of you, exasperatedly calling up their real hotel reservations. 

“What? My reservation has been revoked?” her daughter groans when he jostles around his lap, knocking her head, “how can you do that? Past the time? I thought this was Disney!” 

You drum your nails against the counter, using your other hand to pull up your guest list for the night on the computer. The father, now furrowed in the face, walks up to you and leaves his daughter on the plush couch. 

“One double bedroom for the weekend, please,” the father pulls his cards out, flicking it to your side of the counter. He places down his car keys in the available holder, “I parked out front, you do valet right?” 

With a nod, you get to work. “Take it they weren’t very accommodating?” 

“They gave our hotel room to some Make-A-Wish Foundation kid!” he cries exasperatedly, hands in the air as you patiently book the room. Your eyes linger longer than usual on his driver’s license and ID: Kim Seokjin. Even his driver’s license mugshot looks handsome. He rests his arms against your counter, despondent. “Is it terrible for me to hate on some kid with a terminal illness?” 

“A little,”  you shrug, slipping his keycard under his elbow, “but I mean according to your, Yeji-bear,” you can’t help but giggle at the nickname, “if you used the GPS you’d be at the correct hotel.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Seokjin glares, hauling his and Yeji’s luggage in one hand, “baby, let’s go upstairs c’mon.” 

You watch the small family trudge to the elevators,  sleepily walking forward like zombies. No one spares you a second glance, they never do, so it gives you ample courage to take a look at Kim Seokjin’s toned body. Broad shoulders, a Dorito-trimmed waistline, and long legs that you want to climb up on.

Oh, daddy. 

“Hey,” Yeji pops up on your counter, looking much perkier than she did hours before, “do you have my dad’s car keys?” 

Trying not to raise your brows at your young guest, you give her a smirk, leaning over the counter. A spunky thing, with sharp eyes with a pretty cat-tipped eyeliner shape that has her looking well put-together. You wish you had your shit together as a teenager, you barely have it together now. 

“I do,” you quip, “why?” 

“I wanna get Starbucks,” she says simply, “the pineapple matcha is to die for, and I want to drink as many summer specials as I can before it’s over.” 

“Valid,” you reply, going into your master key to retrieve all the guests’ keys. Taking Seokjin’s from its holder, you note the expensive make. Peering up from your desk, you look at Yeji’s innocent features. Before you place the key in her waiting palm, you snatch it away, “Why do I have the feeling you’re doing something that you’re not supposed to be doing?” 

Yeji tilts her head, “I don’t think it’s any of your business,” 

Sassy. You like it. “Get me a grande matcha frappe and your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Deal.” 

Watching Yeji drive off in the large Hyundai Palisade gives you a little twinge of worry, but you quickly tamp it down to motherly instinct. If you were Yeji’s mom—which you’re definitely not, you’d be worried. Naturally, you feel similarly. 

The hotel phone rings, the red light from 921 blinking on your switchboard. Flipping down the room number you pick up the receiver, “Prince S Hotel, how can I help you?” 

“You do booking, valet, and housekeeping?” Seokjin’s exasperated voice says in your ears, “who would I call if I want breakfast?” 

“That would also be me,” you reply wryly, twisting the curly wire between your fingers, “we advertise ourselves as a hotel for the quality, although we are much smaller with only thirty rooms. Sort of like a bed n’breakfast, getting the true royal treatment.” 

“Would the royal treatment consist of some extra towels and a continental breakfast?” 

“You got it.” 

A little cliché of you to do the whole “whistle while you work” segment—a lacy apron to make sure your uniform doesn’t get dirty, a spot of coffee to keep you peppy and setting everything up on a gold trimmed cart. You didn’t think you’d see Seokjin again, especially after how upset he was about his room. 

With a little rap on his door, Seokjin invites you inside to set up. Their room overlooks the valley as opposed to the busy roads, so it’s a perfect way to rise with the sun. He immediately reaches for the coffee as you drag your little cart in, completely ignoring the cream and sugar on the side. After a long sip, he moans in pleasure. 

“Ah,” he exhales, a sound that has you teeming. You grip the handlebars a little tighter than usual, “Maybe it was fate that we ended up here.” 

“Maybe,” you fight the urge to bite your lip, because Seokjin has no idea how cliché of a line that is. He isn’t even speaking directly at you, talking in front of the sun like it’s his morning routine. “Say, have you seen Yeji around?” 

“Ah,” you shug, pretending to be oblivious, “I think she went out for a walk.” 

He turns to you, giving you a quivering brow, “She hates walking. Probably calling her friends in Korea or something.” 

Of course she doesn’t like walking, you think, that’s why she took your car for some overpriced drinks. 

Instead, you place the fresh pancakes and sides on the guest table, making sure everything is organized and in order. You place the towels atop the haphazardly made bed, making sure to put two mints on top. It isn’t customary to include mints, but you think the mints your hotel has taste great and deserve to be shared around more often than not. 

“So, it looks like you’re ready for Disney,” you remark, taking note of his outfit. He has on blush mid-thigh shorts, stretchy and made from a canvas fabric that looks airy and comfortable. Around his neck is a little portable fan, and on his head is an old Mickey baseball cap. 

“Ah, just for today and tomorrow! Sunday is my ‘me’ day,” Seokjin says, dashing across the room at the sight of fresh food, “Yeji is meeting with some cousins and will be spending the rest of the weekend with them.” 

“Sounds like a fun weekend,” you remark, turning to leave. 

“Will you be working the rest of the weekend?” 

This is supposed to be small talk. You try to convince yourself that Seokjin is just being polite, wondering if his service is going to be impacted by you being around or not. There must be nothing sexual, or just mere attraction, going on between the two of you. Well, maybe on your side of things. The pink shorts and the baseball cap are doing things to your body that you barely understand. Unfortunately, the eager apples of his cheeks and the innocent upturn of his lips lets you know that any possibility of returned affections is virtually nonexistent. 

“It’s my weekend off,” you fight the twinge of excitement when you see Seokjin pout, “but Park Jimin relieves me, and he’s definitely a much better host than I am. He’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.” 

“Does he make better pancakes than you?” Seokjin asks, swirling a bite in a ribbon of maple syrup.  

“I’m afraid not,” you smile, “he makes a mean breakfast burrito though.” 

He shrugs listlessly, eating slower. He takes his time to make sure every pancake is cut in equal two-centimeter pieces, taking his time as if he’s savoring the last of your home-cooked meal. “Not sure if I’ll be completely satisfied then.” 

With a firm smile, you wheel your cart out as fast as you can. You can’t keep up the facade now, not with your trashy mind and your dampening panties ruining your sense of self. Quietly slamming the door behind you, you’re met with Seokjin’s spitting image. 

Yeji tilts her head at you, eating you alive with her dead-on stare. She places the keys and your matcha beverage on your cart. 

“Did my dad confuse you or something?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“He’s like that,” Yeji shrugs, taking a long sip of her drink, “don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you.” 

A good word? With an uneasy smile you wheel away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks.

“Can I have the keys?” Yeji asks the next morning, minutes before your shift ends.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You’re sure Yeji is a wonderful kid and has a good heart, but she’s seriously putting your five-star Yelp review on the line. Cocking one eyebrow you say, “What, need your Starbucks fix?” 

“Do you know how to parallel park?” 

“Why, need a teacher?” 

“It’d be better to have someone nearby to make sure I don’t park into a guard rail.” 

“Does Seokjin approve?” 

“You obviously know the answer to that,” Yeji replies, “and you and my dad are on a first-name basis, huh?” 

Fighting the heat in your cheeks, you busy yourself by locking up the money box and key tin, but not before grabbing the keys to the Palisades. “I’m doing this for you because I have impeccable customer service skills,” you feign haughtiness, leaving your front desk and scanning your ID to clock out. 

“Not because you think my dad is hot?” she follows you out the door. 

“Do you always talk about your dad like that?” 

Yeji is silent as she takes the keys from your grip, and you follow her in the passenger seat. A scent that’s fruity yet musky fills your nostrils, and you hug your arms for comfort. This is painfully awkward, at least in your point of view, but Yeji pays no mind as she connects to her Spotify playlist and turns on the air conditioner. 

“I’m not one of those prissy daughters that try their damn hardest to make sure their dad doesn’t date,” Yeji murmurs, adjusting the mirrors, “anyone my dad dates will be better than Hyehwa. He deserves to be happy for all that he’s done for me.” 

“Hyehwa?” 

“The biological carrier for nine months,” Yeji replies dryly. 

Your heart pinches, squeezing against your ribcage as you put two and two together. Hyewha, who you’re assuming is, or was Yeji’s mother, is definitely out of the picture. Yet seeing how confident Yeji is with herself, and how much he loves her father and wants him to be happy, is clear in your eyes. 

“You are one cool kid,” is the only thing you can say, hoping you don’t have that silly heartened look in your gaze. 

It seems that you do, because all she does is roll her eyes and put the car in drive. 

It’s nearly one in the morning when you get the call. 

You’re off the clock, but it’s graveyard hours and you and Jimin are craving pizza. So while Jimin tends to the last minute guests, you pick up a cheesy pie and hide behind the desk while Jimin does his job. 

You’ve polished off half the pie when the main phone rings, and Jimin sighs heavily. Late night and early morning calls are the absolute worst. 

“Get the hospital on speed dial,” Jimin jokes, but not really because the last time someone called at one, you really did wish you had an ambulance on-site. 

“Prince S hotel,” Jimin spins the cord between his fingers, looking like a dreamy teen heartthrob as he leans against the counter. He immediately swings the phone over to your greasy fingers, “it’s a personal call.” 

Wiping your hands on the box, you raise a brow. “Hello?” you ask, wholly confused. 

“Mm, it’s Yeji,” the voice slurs on the other line, “I need help.” 

“A-are you drunk?” you say, incredulous.

“Yeah, me and my cousin snuck a bottle downtown,” Yeji sounds nervous, and you unconsciously grip the phone tighter, “can you pick us up? I can drop you my location if you give me your number, please. My dad trusted me with the Palisade this weekend, I can’t let him know what happened. I know I’m always trying to get under my dad’s skin and whatever but I don’t want him to lose my trust, what we did is a dumb mistake.” 

A part of you feels for Yeji, you’ve done dumb shit like this when you were young. All those fond memories are nothing but memories, and definitely not reflective of your current life now. 

The rational, intelligent part of you knows that you should probably call Seokjin right now and tell him what’s going on. You don’t really want to get involved in their family matters, especially when as of late you’ve been inserting yourself in Yeji’s antics. 

With a sigh, you pull up your Lyft app, already knowing whose side you’re on. 

It takes no more than fifteen minutes for you to arrive at the scene, Yeji and what you assume is her older cousin sitting on the curb of a dilapidated Krispy Kreme, sadly polishing off a whole box of glazed donuts, Well, her cousin is polishing off the box, Yeji is taking nibbles at her proffered donut. 

You sigh, pulling Yeji up. You see tear-streaks, her previously perfect cat-eye smudged off and running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, sounding not as inhiberated as she did before, “I bothered you.” 

“Not at all,” you soothe, running a hand down her braids. You try not to melt when Yeji nearly leans into your warmth, but backs up at the last second, “I’m happy that you called. Would rather know that you’re safe now than later, yeah? I’m not mad at you,” you assure, pulling a crumpled brown napkin from the pizzeria to dab at her ruddied cheeks. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” you turn your head dangerously slowly towards the cute muscle pig who’s still sitting on the curb, “Ya deserve a five-star Yelp review for this service—” 

“But I’m mad at you,” you pointedly ignore his drunken charm. He looks old enough to drink, which only further annoys you because he should be the one taking care of Yeji, “get in the damn car, Youngkook.” 

“It’s Jungkook—”

“Get in.” 

He swallows his tongue, and you notice Yeji stifling a giggle at your attitude. She wordlessly hands you the keys, clamoring in the front seat while Jungkook takes the whole back row. Yeji tiredly informs you the address to her cousin’s hotel, and you drive off into the night. 

“Did I ruin my dad’s chances with you?” you think that Yeji has no clue what she’s saying, but there’s a little sliver of heart in her tone. Her face is pressed against the window, the cold glass on the verge of keeping her awake as she stumbles in and out of consciousness. 

“You could never do that,” you mumble, and you smile when her eyes willingly flutter shut. 

“Hey, babe,” you practically hear desperation in Jimin’s voice.

“Jimin, no,” you already know that his request is sitting prettily on the tip of his tongue, “it’s my weekend off. I’m not getting out.” 

“But someone requested your pancakes,” he whines, and you can practically feel his pout on the other line, “and he said and I quote ‘I’ll be able to tell that you made them.’ I feel threatened!” 

“Did they offer to pay in diamonds?” 

“N-no. But he said it’s his daughter’s special weekend and he’d be really thankful if you’d come by and make your breakfast for him.” 

Daughter? Yeji. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. You have your own room separate from the hotel, a deal that has you living rent free in exchange for your hard labor five days a week. “Heat up the stove for me and crisp the bacon,” you mutter, hanging up and throwing the phone under the covers. 

Tugging your hair back and throwing on a large hoodie, you put on your slippers and pad down the little sidewalk that leads to the hotel. The sun beats down on you immediately, willing you to go back to your air-conditioned room to fall back asleep. Swimming through the soup that is the Californian air, you shuffle inside Prince S and make a beeline for the kitchens. You brush through busy employees, flashing a quick smile and “good morning” as you get to your station.

Jimin is already there, sitting at your workspace. All your ingredients are sitting out: flour, eggs, butter, vanilla, baking powder, baking soda, buttermilk, and fresh berries. However, Jimin makes  no moves to attempt cooking, instead looking at you with pursed lips and waiting for you to get a move on. 

“Get your butt off my counter,” you slap his thigh disapprovingly, pulling your sleeves up to start mixing the ingredients, “you’re dirty.” 

“I embrace being dirty,” Jimin replies majestically, kicking his legs back and forth. His Doc Marten creepers wave in your vision, “thank you for swinging by. He said that it was really really important that you come in and make them. Daughter’s request.” 

“They’re lucky they’re a cute family,” you mutter under your breath, although the words aren’t laced with malice. 

The batter is fluffy and puffy, rising with the scent of melted butter and caramelized sugar. You take careful fingers towards the berries, creating a smiley face in the uncooked pancakes. 

“Is your maternal side kicking in?” Jimin says in your ear, and you swing at him with your spatula. 

“Leave me alone, art is being made.” 

“Sure,” Jimin hops off the table, patting your shoulder, “I got a date with room 69,” you roll your eyes, there is no such thing as room 69. “So please continue to be awesome and finish off this favor by delivering it to Mr. Kim’s room.” 

“Jimin, no!” you don’t care that half the staff is staring at you amusedly, the other half uncaring because they’re so used to the two co-managers. “I’m not wearing—I’m not wearing pants.” 

You gesture to the obscene amount of bare legs out in the open. California’s hot as hell, you try to wear as little layers as possible. However, in the workplace you like to keep a modicum of decency. Even though Kim Seokjin is fine fine fine, you have decorum. 

But Jimin’s already off to visit the guest in room 69 and you’re stuck with a pile of fresh hotcakes and none of the workers want to get involved in your shenanigans. Typical. Begrudgingly, you force your Hallmark-esque smile and arrange the gold trimmed cart, taking care to put extra berries in the fruit dish. 

It’s a simple transaction. Get in, drop off the food, accept the tip if Seokjin feels generous, and get out. The door to room 921 looks larger than life, intimidating like the gates to heaven. You knock firmly, but gingerly. “Room service?” the voice that escapes your lips is your sugary professional voice, one that makes you wince immediately. 

A muffled “coming!” has you bristling at the door. You curse yourself, looking at your bunny-clad feet and your legs disappearing under your hoodie. 

As soon as Seokjin pops his head open you blurt, “I swear, I’m wearing shorts underneath this.” 

“Uh,” and that forces him to look at your legs. Dammit, it was a good intention but the wrong way to go. “Good to know,” he coughs, opening his door wider. 

The room is much messier on Seokjin’s side of the room, now filled with Eeyore and Baymax memorabilia. A large, white Baymax plush sits innocently at one side of his untouched bed. You crack a smile at that. 

“Where’s Yeji?” you ask lightly, putting both stacks of pancakes down on the available table. You absently wipe the crumbs off, leading the little pile of food-crust to the garbage can. 

“Yeji?” Seokjin asks, “why would Yeji be here?”

The way you put the cutlery down instantly slows, “You called Jimin this morning saying you needed pancakes specifically made by me to give to Yeji.” 

“Who?” 

“Jimin?” you raise a brow, losing your high-pitched commercial tone. “Tiny, annoying blond guy?” 

Seokjin stares.

You stare back.

“Yeji’s at her cousin’s townhouse,” Seokjin states plainly. 

“No, you called and said Yeji wanted pancakes—” No. 

Yeji, or Jimin, or both called you and set it up. 

“Oh, Jimin’s an idiot,” you tap your head lightly, wanting to bop out any potential embarrassing memory that has burned in your brain, “must’ve misheard. Or is hearing ghosts! Honestly he isn’t the right mind I’m so sorry I reallygottaneedto—” 

You can’t even breathe let alone exhale the rest of your sentence, so you instead do the only thing you can do—run away. You don’t bother to exude grace as you plop any trash on the cart from yesterday’s room service, whipping the cart around so fast that the side wheels fly off and pop a wheelie. 

“We don’t have to let the food go to waste,” Seokjin says pointedly, probably watching you like he’s watching a comic show as you try to bolt out of the room. 

The door is closed, and the little hallway is too small for you to put your body and the cart between the walls. You’ve trapped yourself. Maybe you could just leave the cart and dip? You’re sure there’s at least two extras downstairs. 

“It won’t,” you reply dumbly, “I can eat it in the breakroom or something, I haven’t made breakfast for myself yet. I mean, I was kinda craving an avo-toast this morning, but pancakes are always a classic.” 

Seokjin snorts at your incessant rambling, carding a hand through his chocolate locks, “I’m trying to ask you to stay for breakfast.” 

“You’re trying to—oh,” you mirror his expression, running a hand over your hair so it pulls out of its already messy style. You haven’t done much physical activity this morning, but you feel absolutely breathless as you’re glued to the cheap carpet, taking in Seokjin’s wide glassy eyes

“And if you stay for dessert, I’d like to thank you properly,” 

“I didn’t bake dessert,” you hide the shudder in your throat when he steps closer, pinning you against the cart. Your knuckles must be transparent by now due to how hard you’re gripping the cart. 

“You didn’t,” Seokjin agrees, “but you definitely brought it.” 

You yelp, actually, a whole little dolphin-squeal escapes your lips as Seokjin puts his hand against the wall. You’re actually living a Disney-esque scenario that you do not want to be in. Seokjin’s either trying to give you the Eugene-Signature-Smoulder, or the Prince Naveen charm that isn’t very charming. 

“You’re a cheeseball,” you try to snap back, but it only comes out as a small reply, fitting of your cramped situation. 

His buttery brown eyes are clear and warm, and his sweet scent envelopes your form. You feel impossibly small, sinking deeper and deeper into your hoodie until you feel the heat of his voice sinking deep into your skin. 

It’s then that he leans in and whispers in your ear, his voice a simple request, “Please tell me that you’re interested in me too.” 

Something clutches softly in your heart, tethering you to Seokjin’s gaze. You wonder how many times Seokjin goes through this scenario. You wonder if he’s happy being a bachelor. You figure that many partners must have doubts being tethered by a teenage daughter, or if Seokjin is used to fleeting hook-ups.

“Have been since check-in,” you reply smoothly, finding your breath and looking up from your eyelashes.

Seokjin’s lips find yours, and you swear you’re lip-locking with Cloud Nine. They’re soft and supple and taste a little like maple syrup as they mingle with yours, and you can’t help but weave your hands through his equally silky strands, tugging him closer as he hooks his arms under your bare thighs. 

He gives your bottom an experimental squeeze, leading you to the unmade bed.

Needless to say, breakfast has to wait. 

“So, I’m going to throw a cliché.” 

“Sure, we’re in Disney.” 

“Why me?” you slap his bare chest when Seokjin laughs, pouting, “I mean it! All I did was look cute and give you pancakes!” 

“So you admit you’re cute,” Seokjin smirks. 

“C’mon don’t change the subject, tell me!” 

Even though this hotel is partially yours, you’re still amazed at the softness of the Egyptian cotton as it engulfs both your bodies. Maybe it’s because you’re warm and bathing in the noon afterglow, maybe it’s your bed partner. Still, it feels divine as you lounge in bed, sipping champagne (left by the door, courtesy of Jimin.)

“Mm, caught you driving around with Yeji in my car.” 

You sit up straighter, clutching the sheets to your chest, “You saw us last night?” 

“You were also out last night?” Seokjin tilts his head, “I meant when you taught her how to parallel park.” 

“Oh fuck—I mean,” you slap your forehead, knowing you can’t get away with this one, “Let’s just say I helped her out of a sticky situation. Don’t blame Yeji, blame Yeji’s bunny-headed cousin.” 

“Noted,” Seokjin throws an arm around you, snuggling closer. You relax into his hold, melting between the sheets and his soft skin, “Knowing you’re pulling through for her. Let’s just say I’m a little soft for my daughter, no matter how old.” 

“She’s wonderful,” you say genuinely, taking slow sips of your bubbly drink. 

“Wanna go visit her for lunch? I’m supposed to be meeting her in an hour.” 

You don’t feel deterred or nervous to see Yeji, or even the possibility of meeting Seokjin’s extended family. So you agree, run back to your room quickly to throw on a reasonable summer outfit that doesn’t consist of hooded sweatshirts and booty shorts. 

Seokjin offers to drive your sedan, and since you feel a little princess-ish today you decide to let him take the wheel. After a few minutes attempting to drive in the direction of the townhouse however, you lower the volume on the radio. 

“Jin? I think you’re going the wrong way,” not only do you live here, but you went to the townhouse last night and you’re sure it’s in the opposite fork, “do you want me to plug it in the G.P.S?” 

“I know my way, hon,” Seokjin waves you off, confidently streaming through the oncoming traffic. You smile nervously, you have a feeling this situation has happened once or twice. 

“Oh, is that why you ended up in my hotel?” you tease, “because you’re so good at directions?” 

“Duh,” Seokjin reaches for your hand atop the console, “after all, my intuition led me to you.” 

[where-dreamers-go]

“Hearts, Fangs, And Knifes” Spn Gabriel x Reader

(A/N: Based and extended version of my Imagine: Getting hit by a cupid’s arrow while out on a hunt. Did I just write an investigation and hunt?? Didn’t think I’d be doing that, but okay—cool! I hope you enjoy. I’m also double checking that Pages doesn’t change Dean to Bean…again.

Warnings: Canon violence, language, and death. Some angst.

Word Count: 4,767 Words)

“It’s not a simple salt and burn anymore. It probably wasn’t even that to begin with.” You said as you fought the urge to lean on the Chevy Impala, tired.

“Maybe we should check the house again. We could have missed something,” Sam suggested.

Dean crossed his arms and said, “I’m thinking that lady at the diner lied through her teeth.” He looked down to his bloodied shoes.

There had been more than just a haunting, but none of you had seen the attacker clear enough. Which was why you had called Gabriel for back up and assistance since Castiel was busy.

Subconsciously, you rubbed your shoulder. Being that it dislocated earlier, you were still wary even if it was popped back in place.

“Then looks like we’re going to the diner for some milkshakes and a liar,” Gabriel mused.

“I owe you one.” You gestured to your shoulder and the archangel winked.

“Alright. We’ll go.” Dean said. “Grab a dem—….the hell?” His eyes looked somewhere behind you.

Before you could glance over your shoulder, something nailed you from behind. A warmth filled your chest and a lightness filled your limbs.

The boys cursed and you heard them unlock their guns.

“(Y/N)?” Gabriel called softly and hid your face in his chest as he embraced you.

“Get over here!” Dean’s voice shouted from further away.

“Gabe…”

“Shh…”

“What was it?”

He didn’t answer.

“What was it?”

Sam quickly said two words that lead to Gabriel tightening his hold on you.

“A cupid.”

You took in an uneasy breath.

“Get your feathered ass over here!” Dean’s voice was anything but comforting.

With much effort, you pulled out of Gabriel’s arms. You faced the cupid who donned a casual look, jeans and such.

Neither Dean nor Sam lowered their weapons as they tracked the cupid’s movements. The eldest Winchester had closed in on the cupid, keeping a minimum two paces of a distance.

“You’d think humans would be happy to see me.” The cupid said.

“Gabriel,” Sam said and the archangel behind you immediately had his angel blade in hand.

“Oh,” the cupid smirked. “Didn’t know it was you, brother.” They walked over to the group with a languid swagger. “Makes this…a little better.

Gabriel’s eyebrows set in a deep frown and pulled you to his side.

“That’s close enough,” Dean ordered. His green eyes glaring at the cupid.

Still with a smirk, the cupid stopped walking.

“Did you have orders to mark (Y/N)’s heart?” Gabriel took a step forward in a ready stance.

“What, you haven’t been listening, brother?”

“Answer the question.” Dean growled.

“Why? It’s been done.”

Your fingernails dug into your palms.

Why? What’s the whole point? This shouldn’t be happening.

Your feelings for Gabriel had quadrupled. Keeping your feelings at bay and hardly detectable was a skill built over years of practice. That was how you dealt with having a massive crush beyond crushes on an archangel. What you were feeling as you stood there two blocks from the motel and a short drive to the ghost’s house was unavoidable. What you were feeling less than two steps from Gabriel was greatly alarming.

“What do you know about me?” You asked the cupid.

By the look in their eyes they weren’t expecting you to speak let alone that question. The cupid rested on their heels.

“Just that you run around with the Winchesters and Castiel and causing unnecessary problems in Heaven.”

“Anything else?” You pressed.

They shrugged.

“This isn’t a game.” Sam said to the cupid. “Why’d you do it?”

“Why not?” The angel looked to Gabriel, grinning. “Does it bother you, brother?” An angel blade appeared in their grip.

“It does bother me,” Gabriel leaned forward.

You swallowed. The energy in the air was dangerously thick.

Eyes flickered between the two angels.

“Who else did you mark?” Dean asked, losing his patience.

“Who says I completed the match?” He looked to you. “Can a human handle a lifetime of unrequited love?”

Your jaw locked.

“Have fun hunting.”

In a flutter of wings and a sickening grin, the cupid had left.

It took more than a few moments before the Winchesters and Gabriel begun lowering their weapons and putting them out of sight.

Even with the cupid gone. They left more concern and questions for the brothers and Gabriel.

You exhaled, clearing your mind the best you could.

“I think….I think we should go back to the house tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

The boys and archangel had looks of confusion.

“(Y/N)…,” Sam’s voice was calm.

“Come on.” You walked passed them and went to the Impala. Thoughts focused to the hunt, you refused to give your heart the satisfaction of daydreaming nor of the added feelings in you. There was still a monster in town.

Things to do. People to save.

So much for a short hunt.

The drive back to the motel was short and crammed with unspoken words. That didn’t mean that you missed the looks that the men were giving one another nor the quiet glances to you in the backseat. You had all but tuned everyone and everything out as you watched the lights of the motel come into view.

Once out of the car, you were already fishing your key out of the pocket.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You said as you went towards your room. “Night.”

Both Winchesters wished you goodnight. Concern layered in their tones as opposed to the casual ‘goodnight’s.

Once you were alone in your motel room you locked the door.

You sighed. You could have been sitting in the car on the way back from a completed hunt, and on your way out of town by now.

There just had to be a rogue-ticked-off cupid, didn’t there? Still getting over the last hunt. You thought as you took off your shoes. This one was supposed to be easy and short. But no. Freakin’ complicating things more.

Again, you sighed. Think of something else. Colors, narration, something.

So you did. You preoccupied your mind with the present—what you were doing and nothing else. Going to take a shower, you had hoped that there would be enough hot water to ease your muscles. There wasn’t. Not for long anyway.

Mindlessly sitting on the bed in your sleepwear, you ate a snack. Every so often you were mentally yelling and switching to a song any time your thoughts started veering towards anything love or cupid related.

Just need to get through this case. Maybe it’s two cases in one? You thought as you continued eating. Can get that waitress at the diner to talk. Maybe we can catch her in the afternoon or something. Owe Gabriel a milksha—

A flutter of wings was immediately accompanied by Gabriel as he appeared in the middle of the motel room.

“Were you listening?”

“You’ve hardly said a word since being marked. Is it wrong for me to be worried?” Gabriel walked to the end of the bed and took a seat.

“No.” You ate more of the snack, getting your focus away from your heart.

He watched you behind honey-colored eyes.

“At least we know that the monster we’re after has super speed. Narrows it down some. They’re strong too.”

“(Y/N).”

“What?”

He pulled your snacks out of your reach. Eyes boring into your head.

You felt your resolve softening, but you kept your thoughts cluttered or clear. It switched any time it revolved too close to your heart.

“You’re not eating my snacks and you’re going to get frown lines, Gabe.” You sighed. “If this is about the cupid having a mini tantrum….I don’t want to think about it.”

“I can find another cupid….get the mark off. I’ll find the one who marked you—.”

“Gabe,” you interrupted. “We have to hunt this monster first. It’s killing people. But….but if you want to go…go after the cupid….I’m not—you can go. That’s your call.” Your chest felt like it was tightening and air was a rarity.

“No. It isn’t.” His hands gripped the comforter. “It’s your heart.”

Tearing your eyes away from the archangel, you set your focus on the bathroom door. Clearing your thoughts again still held a level of difficulty.

“It’s been a long day. Better to sleep and have a clearer head in the morning, yeah?” You muttered.

A snap of his fingers and the snacks were on the table and you were under the bedcovers while your breath was minty fresh.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you murmured.

“Good night, gumdrop.”

“Good night.”

Offering a small smile, Gabriel teleported out.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fell back onto the mattress.

Way to complicate things, you thought.

Soon exhaustion overpowered your battling thoughts and allowed you a few hours of sleep.

. . .

Suits on and fake IDs pocketed, you and the Winchesters stood by the counter in the diner. The morning sun-rays shone oranges and pinks across most of the surfaces.

“May we have her current address,” Sam asked the manager.

“Yes, sir. Let me write it down for you.” The manager answered as he went to the back.

As the manager disappeared behind a wall, Dean gave a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t think she’s sick, do you?” You asked quietly.

“Depends,” Dean started. “How much does she really know?”

“Just because she called out sick doesn’t mean she was involved with what happened last night,” Sam reasoned.

“If she’s sick,” you said, “Then she’ll be home all day. We need to check the guy’s house again.”

“Agreed. We must have missed something.”

“Not that we knew we were looking for anything besides a ghost,” Dean added.

“Yay,” you sung sarcastically.

The manager reappeared with a paper in hand.

“Here you are. I hope she’s alright. She’s a good person. Good worker.” The manager said as he handed over the paper to Sam.

“Thank you.” Sam smiled. “We just need her help. Thank you for your concern.”

“Thank you,” Dean said with a nod as the three of you walked out of the diner.

Even though neither of you were hungry any more, you were all growing suspicious. How many supernatural creatures were going to appear on this one hunt when you all thought it was over?

“Looks like we’re going to the house again first.” Sam announced. “It’s closer.”

“What should we be looking for?” Dean asked. “The man’s family owns the house and could have taken things.”

“I don’t think so. The guy didn’t really have what some might consider a lavish lifestyle.”

“So we’re back to square one.” Dean got into the driver’s seat as the rest of you climbed in.

“At least we know a bit about him already.” You added in. “Handyman, practically everybody in town knew him…”

“Unusual death in the woods.”

“Still seems random. Why would he be in the woods? Exercising?”

“Getting ready to exercise his time as a ghost and haunting people?”

You could practically feel Sam rolling his eyes in the passenger seat.

On the drive over the defeated-ghost’s house, Sam had already started planning where to look in the house. The usual spots where information was kept. Dean had the radio on, knowing the ride was just long enough for a few songs.

“Can you higher the music some?” You asked. The song was good, yes, however the height in volume helped keep your mind on the song itself and nothing more.

Dean gave an approving smile through the rearview mirror and turned the dial.

During the drive, you noticed Sam checking on you every so often. You knew he was still worried considering you hadn’t so much as hinted about the whole cupid incident the evening prior. He had cause to be worried because you were friends, but to you it wasn’t the time to discuss it. Not that you were ready to.

If you thought the motel smelled a little stale, the inside of the destroyed-ghost’s house was stuffy. No one had been in for at least a couple of weeks.

When was the last time the guy’s family opened a window in here?

The three of you dispersed to different sections of the home. Sam went into another room, you spotted a closet by the kitchen, and Dean went straight to the paper mess on the counter.

Since the three of you had got into town, the man’s family had yet to go by, but who knew when they’d show up. Someone inherited it already. The three of you had to quickly find what you needed.

“People still have these?” Dean had found an old phonebook with corners folded. He flipped through some of its yellow pages.

“They’re a lot thiner now,” you commented. Looking through the closet, you peeked into a cardboard box. It held only door locks.

“Any chance this guy was paranoid of being hunted?”

“What’d you mean?” Dean asked.

“There are at least ten different door locks in here.” You grabbed the box and pushed it on the counter for Dean to have a look.

“There were four deaths before his. Then the guy started haunting…”

“He could have been a victim like the others.”

“He was the local handyman, he knew everyone…”

“That doesn’t mean he had motive. The lady at the diner said he had an affair with the neighbor.”

“Jealousy is a good cover story.”

You frowned, “Was there even a haunting?”

“You’re telling me…some monster has been throwing us off their trail?”

You exhaled.

“Hey.” Sam called from another room.

You and Dean made your way to Sam who had a notebook laid open on the desk.

“You found the guy’s diary?” Dean peered down to the various notepads and scraps of paper. “Or tiny scrapbook?”

“They’re phone numbers to bookstores, a psychic, a private investigator, and even a cryptologist.”

“He knew something was up,” you said.

“Looks like our guy here was close to contacting a hunter.” Dean flicked through the pages.

“Do you think that’s why he was killed? He knew the victims and knew it wasn’t…normal.” Sam said.

“For lack of a better word,” you crossed your arms.

“He might have been trying to stop them—the monster.” Sam thought out loud.

“He got caught.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“But how? He had work, but…did he know where to look?”

“I have an idea where we can start.”

You and Sam looked to the eldest Winchester.

“Diner waitress’ house.”

. . .

Nice and pressed suit jackets back on, you and the boys stepped out of the Impala. Sitting on a well-groomed yard sat a quaint house. Unsuspecting and fitting into the neighborhood.

It was time to get some real answers.

“We don’t know what we’re walking into.” Sam said as the three of you neared the door.

“Keep alert.” Dean advised.

“No distractions.” You breathed in. A mental image of Gabriel was interrupted by Sam’s knocking on the front door.

Quietly, you stood waiting for a response.

Right on cue, the three of you smiled as the lady from the diner answered the door.

“What can I do for you?” She asked as nicely as if you were customers in need of a stack of a hot breakfast.

“We were wondering if we could ask you a few more questions ab—?”

“Of course.” She stood aside as she opened the door more. “Please come in.”

A warning shiver ran up your neck as she smiled.

Hey, Gabriel, you prayed, just letting you know that I have a funny feeling about this waitress.

Sam lead the three of you inside.

The house smelled like lavender and bleach.

You may have enough mental control to divert attention from one thought to another, but you could not help but to wrinkle your nose at the smells.

Passed the entryway, she invited each of you to take a seat on a couch. The back of the couch faced the hallway you entered.

Dean sat rigid beside you. No doubt he sensed something was off or didn’t like how all of you had your backs exposed.

“Would you like anything to drink?” She asked.

“No, thank you.” Sam answered casually.

It was both amazing and entirely helpful how he could always do that. To make it seem as if it was a warm business meeting with tea.

She sat down in an armchair across from you all and crossed her legs.

“What can I help you with? Did you find out why he’d kill his own neighbor before himself? She was such a darling woman. She always ordered caramel sauce with her pancakes.” She smiled.

“Tasty,” Dean piped up half-heartedly.

The lady’s smile did not fade.

“How did you know him,” Sam began to question. Even going as far as to ask why she thought it was that man in the first place when it was found that he was quite happy with his job.

As the woman began to answer, her voice faded away; your attention drawn elsewhere.

You turned to look behind you. Another woman was standing in the doorway. A similar built to the one in the armchair.

“You three should have left town.” The waitress spoke, she was beside Sam then. Her hand close to touching his head of hair. Smiling at the Winchester, her eyes turned an unnatural shade of blue. As her smile grew, fangs were exposed in place of her front teeth. “We’re glad you stayed.”

“Vetala. Fun.” Dean leaped off of the couch with a knife in hand.

She had moved back to the armchair before Dean’s shoes met the floor.

“Bronze or silver?” You asked.

“Silver.”

Sam was on his feet.

Hand reaching in your suit for your knife, you were pinned to the couch in a second. Your airway was constricted by the waitress’ hand. Her fangs more than too close for your liking.

Sam was shoved somewhere passed the couch after his attempted rescue. His thud against a wall and the floor was rather significant.

On the other hand, Dean hit the vetala hard enough that she loosened her grip on your neck. Turning, she backhanded Dean to the armchair. Both him and the chair toppled backwards and you missed how he flailed his legs to get back onto his feet again.

With a hand searching desperately in your suit, you heard the sounds of Sam and Dean’s continued fight. After finding the right handle, you pulled out your silver knife and plunged it into the vetala’s chest. She faltered and barred her fangs at you.

Somewhere off to the side of the couch, and out of your line of sight, Sam battled against the other monster with blunt hits.

To your surprise, the hand around your neck tightened, her nails digging into your skin.

Why isn’t it working? What’s wr—?

An arm wrapped around the vetala’s throat and yanked back.

“Twist the knife!” Dean ordered.

Grabbing ahold of the knife with both hands, you rotated the weapon.

In another moment, the vetala’s body stiffened and then slacked completely. Dean shrugged the body off to the side so it would not land on you.

Behind the couch, Sam had the other vetala in an arm lock before using his own silver blade to kill the monster. Finally it dropped to the floor, Sam looked away from the body with a flip of his hair.

“You alright, Sam?” Dean asked as he helped you off of the couch. He made sure not to step on the dead vetala.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“So…” You said and rubbed at your neck. “Was there a haunting or was it a set up—fake out…thing?”

“We all need a drink, is what I think.” Dean stated.

“Heh, you rhymed.”

“Shut it.” His tone was not firm nor irritated in the slightest. Perhaps tired.

You raised your eyebrows in a playful challenge and called out, “Gabriel, if you’re not busy—”

“Don’t tell me it was the waitress.” Gabriel had appeared beside you. “Really wanted that milkshake.”

“Yeah. A pair of vetala.” Sam explained briefly. “They had a nice operation going for them.”

The archangel’s eyes darted between the bloodied knife in your hand and your neck you were still touching. His jaw muscles tensed. In a snap of his fingers the pair of vetala were gone.

Handy, you thought. More than anything, you were relieved and overjoyed that Gabriel appeared when you called. You wished you could be as helpful to him. You wished you could do more for him. He deserved more positivity.

“Let’s get going,” Dean said as he started towards the front door.

“There were only two of them?” You asked. “Not a nest or anything?”

“Vetala work in pairs.” Sam answered.

“But if the archangel over here would like to do a house check,” Dean smirked, “I wouldn’t mind.”

You glanced over at said archangel.

“Be back in a sec.” Gabriel zapped out.

“How come he listens to you more?” Sam asked as you two turned to join Dean.

The warmth in your chest brought a smile to your face. You did love the extra attention Gabriel gave you. It made loving him a little more bearable.

“Maybe I ask a little nicer,” you shrugged. “I don’t remember ever yelling at him or anything like that.”

Why would I? You thought. They’re the ones with the weird tense relationship….some trickster stuff. Glad I missed that. It would change things….I think.

Outside, Gabriel stood beside the Impala.

“Let’s go.” He sung.

“What?” Sam opened the passenger side door. “You got plans?”

“Yes. I can have plans.”

You hardly felt your shoulders slouch in disappointment, but you could feel the cold, emptiness in your stomach.

“Will you be gone long?” You asked.

Gabriel tilted his head and spoke, “You’re coming with me.”

“Hey,” Dean interjected. “If this is about finding that piece of shit-cupid, I want in.”

You tensed. Thoughts swam in multiple directions before you could stop them. Bits and pieces more clear than others that you hoped Gabriel didn’t catch. You didn’t want to burden him or make him uncomfortable with how you felt. Not even the cupid who marked you could had known that you already held romantic feelings for the archangel. Although out of everyone, maybe Sam knew, he was perceptive in that way.

“(Y/N).” Sam had lightly nudged your shoulder.

“What?”

“Uh…you kind of tuned us all out.” Sam said, his face full of concern. “You can tell us. I mean…we will go after the cupid. What they did to you was wrong.”

Exhaling quietly, you ducked down and squeezed into the car’s backseat.

“(Y/N),” Dean turned to look at you from the driver’s seat. “I don’t know who the bastard marked you with or how confused or pissed you might be, but don’t you dare think for a second that this is less important than a hunt. I won’t stand for that shit and neither with Sam. Got it?”

You nodded. Your fingers pulling at your sleeves.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered.

Sam got into the car and shut the door.

“We’ll let Cas know…” Dean turned the key in the ignition.

At the flutter of wings, you jolted. Your palms clammy like if it was your first hunt. You dared not to look Gabriel in the eyes as he settled in the backseat. Regardless, you could feel him studying you intensely.

The car made its way back to the motel and you had never felt so incredibly awkward. For one, you knew that your friends wanted to know who you were in love with. Two, Gabriel could sense your emotions and might have been reading your mind every second. Three, you weren’t sure if you should tell any of them the full truth.

They were your friends and deserved to know, but that didn’t mean you were obligated to nor ready.

As you walked back into your rented room, you went through a mental checklist. What you did not expect however, was Gabriel had followed you inside, closing the door silently.

You walked straight to your bag and set it on the foot of the bed. The first thing you wanted to do was have a quick change into something casual for the ride back. Getting wrinkles out of a suit wasn’t on your to-do list. You made sure to not take any more time than necessary changing in the bathroom and washing any blood off.

Back in the main room, you ran on automatic, thoughts preoccupied by a random, catchy song. Gabriel only watched, not saying a word, which only made your nerves alert you.

Once you zipped your bag and turned around to be two breathes away from Gabriel. Your heart practically leaped to your throat.

Honey-colored eyes captured your gaze. The bag in your grasp was tugged away without any resistance from you.

“It’ll be easier if I stay away until we get the mark off of your heart.” Gabriel said.

“What?”

“It would be selfish of me if I took advantage of that mark.” He traced a small invisible pattern across the fabric covering your sternum.

Incredibly short breathes made it in and out of your lungs.

His hand returned to his side and he took a step back.

“I’ll put this in the car for you.” He said as the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Then I’ll go…”

It felt as if clawed hands were tearing at your heart. Your eyes stung from unshed tears.

“Gabe.” Your voice was small and broke at the last sound.

“I’ll fix this, gumdrop.” He didn’t look at you from the door. “Don’t worry.”

“Gabe.” Your feet refused to move. Your mind whirling with meanings to his words. “Do you love me?”

After a few moments of sheer silence, he sighed. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.

Your hands formed into fists as you forced words out, “Regardless of the stupid cupid arrow or mark. Do you…do you actually love me? Did you mean it with every flirt? Every time you would show up when I asked or needed you? When I was scared or happy? Because this isn’t like a movie love spell. Have I treated you any differently?”

Even from across the room, Gabriel’s eyes could root you to the spot and read you like a book.

You couldn’t believe, well actually you could, that it took your heart and feelings to be tampered with for Gabriel to express his feelings for you. To open up more.

“Gabriel,” you swallowed. “Taking the mark away wouldn’t change me. The feelings were already there.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“Read my mind! Freakin’ go through it. None of this is new. I just never had it in me to tell you or ask you out.” You finally took a longer breath. “I’m only human.”

Gabriel snapped your bag to who knows where and took long strides to be back in front of you. His warm hands held yours and rubbed the tension away until you no longer had your fingers digging into your palms.

“You’re not only a human. Don’t say that,” he shook his head. “And I’ll tell you and remind you in all the ways of how you are more. I’ll tell you how intelligent and kick ass you are until you get sick of it and then I’ll tell you more. I’ll compliment you until Sam and Dean roll their eyes into the back of their skulls and then I’ll shout it from every ‘tallest building’ in every country because everyone should know how incredible you are. How perfect I think you are.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed as tears blurred your vision.

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s lips curved up and he nudged his nose against yours.

The wide smile on your lips could hardly match the amount of joy and love you felt building within you.

“I should have read your mind weeks ago.” Gabriel kissed your forehead then your eyebrow, followed by your temple, your ear, earlobe, cheekbone—

KNOCK KNOCK THUMP

“Hey, you okay in—“

“Hold on!” You shouted to Dean outside. “I’m having a moment!”

“What?”

You laughed lightly.

The archangel’s lips made their way to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you, Gabriel,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed your nose.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He hooked your hands behind his neck. “Say the word and we’ll go somewhere alone. Anywhere.”

~~~

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Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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[ragingpancake]

Performance Fleece (Ooh It's Fine)

AN: In which John is sick and a thief and Rodney doesn't actually mind. There’s not a lot that escapes Rodney’s notice. Okay, scratch that. There is often a lot that escapes Rodney’s notice, mostly just because he’s too busy saving their asses and generally just being brilliant, but. When it comes to John Sheppard, Rodney’s pretty sure he’s even got the man’s bathroom schedule memorized. It’s not weird, okay? They’re teammates! Buddies! Compadres! Plus, you know, there’s the little matter of the massive crush that Rodney’s been harboring since, oh, probably the moment that Sheppard plopped his un-initiated ass down in the control chair back on Earth and showed Rodney where they were in the solar system. Anyway. Off topic. They’ve gathered in the meeting room for their latest mission debriefing, the one that John had requested to postpone, after returning from M4-X465, or, the planet that never stops fucking raining. So anyway, they’ve gathered, all of them except John and frankly, Rodney finds it a little unfair that they have to sit through re-hashing everything from the latest mission, down to the time he whipped it out and peed on a tree, when Sheppard gets to skip out. And then (and this is where Rodney’s attentiveness to Sheppard’s usual habits come in handy), he realizes that John has never actually skipped debriefing, no matter how many times he’s threatened. “Where’s Sheppard?” He asks and he mentally gives himself a high five for how disinterested he sounds. “He’s not feeling well,” Elizabeth answers like that shouldn’t be concerning in some way, shape or form, because Sheppard doesn’t do sick and even when he does, it doesn’t keep him from handling his duties while suffering in manly silence.

“So he’s just not going to show up?” Elizabeth lowers the tablet and glances at Rodney with a raised eyebrow. “It was my call,” she says. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get started.” Rodney tunes her out after that. -- He spends the next forty five minutes catastrophizing the situation. He analyzes it, tries to figure out exactly what had been meant by “not feeling well”. Was this turning into a bug not feeling well? Harboring an alien consciousness again not feeling well? So many horrors, so little time. When that doesn’t work, he switches to hacking into the camera system and pulling up the one specifically in John’s quarters but that doesn’t get him anywhere either because at least that very moment, John is nowhere to be found. Huh. Elizabeth finally finishes up and while Ronon is usually the first one to the door, this time, Rodney beats him by a solid five seconds, shouting over his shoulder about some made up situation in the lab. Totally, completely disinterested. He also completely misses the look shared by the others in his haste. -- To his credit, he does actually go in the direction of the labs, but only because that’s the quickest way to John’s quarters. He also manages not to just barge into John’s room (thanks to the almost disastrous towel incident, but Rodney is resolutely not thinking about that in this moment, no sir, no way). Instead, he stops outside of the door and bangs on it, a little more insistently than usual. It takes a second longer than he would like and so, fearing that perhaps John had maybe slipped and fallen, perhaps brained himself on that stupid old guitar, he palms the door open and--. What the hell is that? For a second, he doesn’t even recognize it, because how long has it been since he’s last seen it? He blinks, checks to make sure he’s actually in the right room and then allows his gaze to resettle on that that god awful orange fleece, the one he’d sworn that he’d burn once he was off of that frozen rock. The one that is currently wrapped around a very miserable looking Lieutenant Colonel, who glances up at him with a look that almost dares Rodney to say something. “… id was cold.” “You’re a thief,” Rodney says in response and he steps further in the room, letting the door slide closed behind him. “Where did you even find that thing?” “I wend down to the lab for sob of dat tea you hoard from the maidlad a’d found it id your bottom drawer.” Huh. So that’s where he’d put it. “Well,” Rodney says charitably, “whatever helps, I guess.” “Thags, Rodney,” John says and when he sneezes, it’s the second most god awful thing Rodney’s ever heard, second only to John’s braying donkey laugh, and by ‘god awful’, clearly he means, you know, acceptable because it’s John fucking Sheppard and well… anyway. “I suppose I should leave you to it,” he says finally and he gestures a little dumbly to the door. “You know, leave you to your bed of germs and, and, and--.” “You dond have to go if you dond want to,” John says and Rodney really, reallyshould not stay because first of all, as he’d mentioned, germs and secondly… Well, Rodney’s a hard time finding a second point, mostly because he wantsto stay. “I suppose I could, for a bit,” Rodney says airily, “if only to make sure you don’t slip out of bed and die. Or at least to ensure that my fleece finds its way back to where it belongs when you’re done. Completelywashed and disinfected, of course. “Ob course,” John agrees, like maybe he’s just humoring Rodney at this point. “…I’m never getting that fleece back again, am I?” “Nod a chance, buddy.” Well, truthfully, Rodney supposes he doesn’t mind. After all, there are two positives here: a.) to be completely fair, the fleece looks better on Sheppard anyway and it’ll save him the trouble carrying out his self-made promise to burn it. And b.)… well, Rodney’s never seen Sheppard wear anyone else’s clothes. It gives him something to think on, at least. Perhaps… Well, perhaps this one sided crush is not quite so one sided

after all… Huh. Who woulda thought?

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 11: Another Threat

“W-what?”

You stared at the tiny sliver of gold balancing between Yoongi’s fingers. You couldn’t believe what was happening. How the heck had Jungkook’s ring gotten into his possession?

“It was a simple question.” He stopped you before you could reply. “And don’t try to lie to me. I can see through shit like that.”

“How did you find out?” you asked as your grip tightened around the handle of the duffel bag and the computer bag. “Did he tell you?”

“Not exactly,” he answered. “I overheard an argument he had with his parents some time ago, talking about wanting to cancel ‘the marriage’. Although I wasn’t sure who he was supposed to marry against his will…” Yoongi looked pointedly at your currently naked finger. “I saw the ring on your finger yesterday. It makes too much sense considering your strange relationship and the time of the accident for all to be a mere coincidence. So tell me: when were you telling us about you and Jungkook’s engagement?”

“Where did you get that?” you asked instead, pointing at the band. “Did you steal it from him?”

“I would never steal,” he said sharply, reacting for the first time since you had met him. “I was in charge of washing our clothes once when I discovered it in his pocket. It was before he had met Park Yi-Jae, so don’t try to give me that explanation.”

You swallowed your words. You didn’t know what to say.

“Does she know?”

You shook your head.

“Did you know about her?”

You felt your jaw clench instinctively in anger. Yoongi raised a brow. “You didn’t. Huh. So that’s the private subject you couldn’t disclose and what you and Jungkook fought about yesterday.”

“Move aside,” you demanded as you tried to assume a neutral expression. You couldn’t believe he was reading through you as easily as that. “I have to get back to Jungkook.”

“Not yet,” he told you. “You haven’t answered my questions.”

“You have no right to any of the answers,” you said coolly. “And you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone.”

“Do you know why he stayed with you?”

“No,” you said instantly. “There’s not a minute that goes by without me asking myself: Why would that bastard decide to deceive both of our parents and me? Why remain engaged to me when he loves another girl?” You narrowed your eyes. “Why ask? Isn’t this an obvious frame of mind?”

“Who am I to presume what you might or might not consider,” he said simply, then took a step closer to you. He lowered his voice. “Now, the rest of them might believe your tear-jerker, but I think it’s shit. There is something you want from Jungkook, isn’t it? That’s why you’re helping him.”

“No,” you began, “as I just explained--”

“People aren’t like that,” interrupted Yoongi. He wore an expressionless guise, and even his eyes and tone were inscrutable. “They don’t help someone purely at the goodness of their hearts and childhood cotton clouds. As for the reason why Jungkook chose to stay with you even when he has a girlfriend…” He snorted. “Are you really so naive you cannot see the blatant answer?”

You inhaled sharply but didn’t respond. You were doing your best not to drop the duffel bag and the computer and just swing at him.

Min Yoongi’s gaze hardened. “It’s for your name and money, Einstein.”

“Never,” you said venomously. “Do you really have so little trust in your own group member? In Jungkook? Don’t you know at least how proud he is? He would never stoop to that level.”

“Perhaps not. But he doesn’t really have a say in the marriage, does he? Think (Y/N), you attend a SKY university, so you ought to have at least some brain capacity. Who else would be able to have access to your family vault?”

“His parents,” you realized breathlessly. “His father, to be more exact.”

You couldn’t deny the truth of his words. Jungkook’s father had never been good with money and was far too fond of the bottle for someone who often ran into major economic predicaments. But why would your parents allow it to happen? What would they gain from you marrying Jungkook?

And perhaps the most important question: How and what did Min Yoongi know about Jungkook’s parents? Jungkook wasn’t the personal, talkative type. He wouldn’t have shared such delicate details of his upbringing with anyone. Right?

“Solved the mystery, did we?” He brushed some invisible dirt off his shoulders. “You can thank me after you’ve answered the rest of my questions.”

“Get out of my way.” You had too many thoughts fuddling your mind to be polite or try to be diplomatic. “I will scream if you don’t.”

Yoongi held your eyes for a moment before he tsked in annoyance and allowed you to step past. You were practically running out of the room, and only barely caught the last of a sarcastic: “--nice evening.”

Jimin stood in the kitchen washing dishes together with Taehyung, while Namjoon and Hoseok sat at the table reading off the master list. Seokjin was nowhere to be seen, and you guessed he probably was in one of the bathrooms. Music played in the background, only slightly louder than the sound of running water and the clinking and clanking of pots, plates and cutlery. It was like stepping into a whole different world compared to the unfriendly tension you had experienced with Yoongi.

Hoseok had lighted up when he spotted you, but his eyes rounded when he saw your face. Fortunately, you managed to speak first.

“I really need to get to the hospital,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound half as furious as you were.

“Here’s the list,” said Namjoon hesitantly, since he also saw your expression.

“Thanks. And thank you again for the food.”

You took the paper and folded it into your back pocket. Jimin’s initial smile fell when he met your gaze, though Taehyung simply furrowed his brows in confusion and glanced toward the room you frankly had escaped.

“I’ll leave now,” you said hurriedly before anyone could comment on your obviously upsetting conversation with Yoongi. “Goodbye.”

Their united farewell followed you as you ambled down the hallway. You did your best not to look behind you, but you felt his dark, knowing eyes drilling into your back.

This wasn’t the last you had seen of Min Yoongi.

You were putting on your shoes when a door almost swung into your face. It was becoming a bad habit, but as you skittered out of the way, you couldn’t help but yelp in surprise. Stepping out of the bathroom was Seokjin, who strangely wore a jacket and gave you a curious look.

“I figured I could help carry down the stuff,” he told you, then pointed at a few canvas bags slumped against the shelves. “Those are Jungkook’s favorite shoes. You should probably take them with you as well, if only because he bought all himself.”

You and Seokjin stood in the descending elevator when you texted Jong-Yeol to come and pick you up. But as the two of you waddled out of the building carrying Jungkook’s belongings - Seokjin having offered to carry significantly more, an offer which you gracefully refused - you found that Jong-Yeol was already directly outside.

“Thank you for the help,” you said after Seokjin and Jong-Yeol had filled up the trunk. “I didn’t realize how much I had stolen from Namjoon until I tried lifting the bag up, and by then, all of his clothes were buried underneath Jungkook’s.”

“Typical,” said Seokjin with a laugh. “It’s really no effort, though.”

“Still, thanks,” you said as you opened the car door. “Let’s buy some takeaway first,” you told Jong-Yeol. “Jungkook’s probably starving.”

Jong-Yeol hurried around the side of the car to get into the driving seat. “Chinese?”

“Hmm, no. Fried chicken.”

“Before you leave, (Y/N)...”

Halfway into the car, you stopped and glanced over your shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Take care of Jeon Jungkook on behalf of all six members,” said Seokjin solemnly, his gaze trailing the ground. “And feel free to contact us whenever you need help or whatever. I’ll message Sejin-manager and tell him he should give you our numbers at the hospital.”

“He’s already given me all of your numbers,” you said with a smile. “I can send my KakaoTalk ID to you later tonight if you want, since it’s cheaper that way.”

Kim Seokjin smiled, too. “That would be convenient. Bye, (Y/N).”

He helped you with the car door, and then you were off. As much as you still boiled inside due to Min Yoongi and the situation he both had established and stirred up, you knew you couldn’t show distress in the face of Jungkook. He needed you strong, dependable, now more than ever.

Besides, it wasn’t as if you could ask him about the reason and dynamic of the engagement on his part. He was amnesic.

And perhaps that was for the better.

It was a fifteen-minute drive to the nearest fried chicken shop due to traffic. It took another fifteen for you to get to Asan Medical Center, which on the other hand was fortunate considering the number of cars filling the streets. You managed to get your emotions under control, even though the question kept brewing in the back of your mind.

What was the reason your parents wanted you to marry Jungkook so direly?

After checking the time on your phone and saying bye to Jong-Yeol, you jogged through the hospital toward Jungkook’s room. In your purse were a pair of fresh jeans and a t-shirt you had picked out at random from the duffel bag, and in your left hand, you held the chicken that was surprisingly yet warm. You knew he was the combination of brave, proud and stupid to never go back on his words. And since he so foolishly had proclaimed that he wouldn’t let himself be fed, you had decided upon fried chicken, which didn’t really need cutlery of any sort.

You were a bit anxious, not knowing what state he could possibly be in, but as you opened the door to his room and spotted him in his bed, surrounded by Kim Sejin, a woman in doctor’s robe and--

Park Yi-Jae. She was sitting quietly in a chair pulled up next to Jungkook’s bed, watching him. Her eyes narrowed when you burst through the door.

“(Y/N)! Finally!”

Jungkook blatantly pointed at you. “She’s the one,” he told the doctor eagerly. “I cannot remember anyone but her."

You noticed Yi-Jae and Sejin cringe, though both out of different reasons. Sejin looked hurt, while Yi-Jae stared pleadingly at Jungkook. He ignored both.

He only saw you.

You tried not to flush with embarrassment as the female doctor scrutinized you from head to toe. She was in her mid-thirties, short and had cut her black hair to shoulder-length, though it was loosely tied just above her neck currently. The doctor readjusted her glasses then held up a blue plastic clipboard slightly.

“Then perhaps you might be more helpful handling him,” she said. Her voice reminded you a bit of your mother’s, sharp and quick, though lower and more pleasant to the ears.

“We’ll leave (Y/N) to it, then. Come,” said Sejin and carefully touched Yi-Jae’s shoulder when she didn’t respond.

“No, I can’t leave him,” she protested, her tone trembling. “Not again. Only a terrible person would leave his or her beloved when they’re in a state such as this. I will rise above anything he might say, because the fact is, he simply doesn’t know better. And maybe I can help, too.”

Yi-Jae reached out and curled her fingers around Jungkook’s. His focus shifted slowly from you to her as she spoke.

“Do you really not feel or remember anything?” she asked him, the desperation making her voice hoarse. You could see tears lining her eyes and almost had to look away. It was too raw, too painful. “It’s me, Jungkook. My name is Park Yi-Jae. We met last year on a music show and you told me on our first date that you had never seen anyone more beautiful than I in your whole life. You have made me laugh every day on KakaoTalk since and we always made time to video chat whenever we were apart. The first time I told you I loved you was on Christmas Eve when you sang that little tune for me while we were out walking late at night. I told you last week I could imagine spending the rest of my life with you. You simply cannot have forgotten all of this, Jungkook, my honey.”

For a long moment, it was quiet in the room. You watched the tears roll down Park Yi-Jae’s slightly rosy cheeks and couldn’t help but think that she was one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. Even while crying, she was prettier than you thought it fair for anyone to be.

Briefly, you thought Jungkook might have remembered something, that the almost ludicrous way of restoring his memories worked and had started just then and there - through reminding him of his love for Yi-Jae. While talking, she had leaned so close to him they could almost kiss. His brown, familiar large eyes were holding hers, silently observing, and he didn’t move away. But then, and in a tone you prior to then had only ever heard him use with you, Jungkook replied without twitching even an eyebrow.

“Don’t touch me.”

[youthkenworld]

Another look at Kamala Harris, Part 2

By Mike Huckabee

Last week, given the difficulties President Biden was having just getting through an incomprehensible townhall meeting, we took a look at what Vice President Kamala Harris brings to the Oval Office if (when) the 25th Amendment is used to “retire” him. It’s not encouraging news, as you know if you read it.

https://www.mikehuckabee.com/latest-news?id=01A2837A-8710-4A6B-9A96-3021399FE349

Of the many reader responses we received, a couple of them pointed to a report on her that appears in the book PROFILES IN CORRUPTION, by Peter Schweizer. In fact, she’s Chapter 2.

http://www.jack-ass.net/art/pic/pic2a.html

The chapter begins with a story that shows the close connection between Harris and President Obama. She first supported him when he was running for the Senate in Illinois in 2004. Then, after he was elected, he flew to San Francisco to attend a fundraiser to help retire her campaign debt after being elected San Francisco district attorney. In 2007, when Obama announced he was running for President --- SO SOON after winning the Senate --- Kamala and several family members joined his campaign and, as Schweizer described it, worked tirelessly. When Obama won, Kamala was there in Chicago’s Grant Park for the celebration.

As Schweizer wrote, “Harris is widely admired in progressive circles as the ‘female Obama.’ Smooth, polished and confident” –- this was obviously written before that unnerving cackling began –- “she has worked hard to ‘cultivate a celebrity mystique while fiercely guarding her privacy.

What we wrote concerning her early life and Marxist influences is confirmed in Schweizer’s reporting.

And, yes, Harris’ political rise is tied to “one of California’s most corrupt political machines,” namely, the one connected to former San Francisco mayor Willie Brown, Jr. As Schweizer put it, “Kamala Harris’s entre into the corridors of political power largely began with a date.” At the time, he was Speaker of the State Assembly, the second most powerful political figure in California. Brown’s relationship with Harris was well-known; as Schweizer reports, “Their affair was the talk of San Francisco in 1994.” Though he was married, her own mother is quoted as defending the affair: “Why shouldn’t she…?”

Schweizer has detailed the various boards and commissions Brown put her on; these did not require approval from the legislature. These were an extremely lucrative way to pad her salary of $100,000 a year as a county employee. He also bought her a new BMW. But most important of all was the access he gave her to “his vast network of political supporters, donors and sponsors. Soon she was arm in arm with Brown in the most elite circles of San Francisco, including lavish parties and celebrity galas.” And this was before he was even elected mayor.

In fact, it was shortly after Brown became mayor that he and Kamala split up; details aren’t known. She started dating TV talk show host Montel Williams. She and Brown were still political allies, though, and he continued helping her career, through “the most powerful political machine in California,” which he ran.

Kamala went on to head the Career Criminal Unit in San Francisco, and apparently the DA who hired her, Terrence Hallinan, soon regretted his decision. When he didn’t give her a promotion she had wanted, hiring someone else instead, she ended up with Brown’s political machine backing her to run against HIM, and, as Schweizer wrote, “the flow of money directly into her campaign was unlike anything the district attorney’s race had ever seen.” The SAN FRANCISCO WEEKLY said, “She’s hauling in money like there’s no tomorrow.” The San Francisco elite with whom she’d connected while dating Brown forked over the big bucks. Schweizer’s chapter details the various ethical conflicts concerning this money and her use of city employees to do political work.

Harris outspent Hallinan two-to-one and came in second behind him in a three-person race. But in the run-off, she won and was sworn in as San Francisco DA. She took her oath on a copy of the Bill Of Rights rather than the Bible. Given her party’s anti-constitutional proclivities, I doubt the Bill Of Rights was any more honest for her to use than the Bible would have been.

Schweizer’s chapter also tells of Harris’s unimpressive history with the issue of sexual abuse of children by priests. This was a widespread scandal in California. Hallinan, as her predecessor, had uncovered documents going back 40 years, previously sealed by the Church, and had prosecuted numerous cases of child sexual abuse by priests.)

It turns out that according to San Francisco election disclosures, the Catholic Church donated big-time to Kamala Harris’s campaign against Hallinan, though she had no particular ties to the Catholic Church or Catholic organizations. And once she became DA, even though she had prosecuted sex crimes earlier in her career, she oddly moved in the opposite direction of Hallinan and worked to cover up the records. Victims’ groups wanted those records made public and were outraged that she wouldn’t do it.

From 2004 to 2011, when she was San Francisco DA, and then from 2011 to 2016, when she was California attorney general, she never brought a single documented case forward of an allegedly abusive priest.

There’s much more in Schweizer’s chapter about her performance in these jobs, and it is not pretty. He provides numerous examples of her selective enforcement of the law, to benefit friends of her “ex,” Willie Brown, and also of her husband, after she married Los Angeles attorney Doug Emhoff. We’ve also heard from readers in California who told us of her dismal performance there. Recall that when she ran for President, she bowed out even before her own state’s primary. She didn’t win one primary. And yet here she is, virtually destined to be the next President of the United States.

Throughout her career, Kamala has used her associations with powerful people to help her move forward, so it’s not surprising that her closeness to former President Obama would have led her to her current position. Before Biden was nominated in 2020, some had thought Michelle Obama might be the choice. (One of my staffers went on record with that prediction, writing at length about why she believed this would happen.) Certainly if Michelle had wanted it, she would have been the nominee and probably the next President, as the fawning media would have made sure of that. But the Obamas managed to accomplish the same thing, in a way that would still allow Michelle to sit at the beach with friends, sipping exotic drinks with little umbrellas. They did this by putting the woman known as “the female Obama” –- the far-left woman who shared their views in every way but who could never have even made it to her party’s nomination –- on the ticket with “moderate” (ha) Biden, knowing that Biden would never make it through a first term.

At this point, Biden can hardly make it through a town hall meeting.

What the left has done to our country through this scheme will not be forgotten --- or forgiven.

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