Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jon #1

You were feeling a bit more jittery than normal today, so you decided that you might as well use your excess energy to gopher around books and files. You had already dropped off several files for your team, but there were just two people left. Tim and… Jon.

Jon was a newer hire, but you had rarely interacted with him. Much less seen him, really. But this could be a good start.

You had a little bounce in your step as you walked up from the library, a copy of some architecture book tucked safely under your arm next to whatever files Jon had requested . 'I could have sworn that Tim’s read this one before'. But you weren’t going to police someone’s special interests.

Turning the corner, you noticed Tim and Sasha were standing near the door to the breakroom. Quickly, you marched over, a small friendly smile plastered over your face.

“Hey Tim” You called to get his attention. He turned towards you and smiled broadly.

“Well, if it isn’t (Y/N)! How you doing today?”

You shrugged as you stopped in front of him. “Doing ok. Just here to drop off your book.”

You held up the volume. Tim smiled and plucked it from your hands. “Aw, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. “I’m pretty sure that it’s part of my job.”

Sasha shook her head. “It isn’t your job to provide him with books for his personal life.” She was still smiling a little as she poked his ribs. “For shame, Timothy. Making (y/n) run themselves thin just for you.”

You shook your head and laughed a little, “No, I really don’t mind.” You shifted the files under your arm a bit. “I just didn’t want to be sitting all day.”

Tim opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off as the door next to you swung open, hitting you square on. You let out an undignified squawk as you fell, the files flying from your arms. You landed painfully on your back and winced. Oh, that’s definitely gonna bruise. You sat up a little bit. Jon stood in front of you, a file in hand. His face was slack with surprise and he was staring at you.

“Shit, (y/n), You okay?” Sasha stepped forward and held out her hand. Gratefully, you took it and stood up carefully. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She looked at you, her eyes wide. “You’re sure that you’re okay? You did just get whacked with a door.” You nodded, “I’ll be fine.” You turned towards where you saw Jon. Only now, he was crouched on the floor and picking up scattered papers.

You stepped closer and made to bend down, but he quickly held out a hand.

“N-No no, I got it.” He grabbed the last couple of papers and stood up quickly. He looked at you for a second before he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, sorry about that.” He held the files out to you.

“Oh, it’s fine. I should have been more mindful about where I was standing anyway.” You looked back at the files in your his and smiled.

“Besides, this does save me time since I was going to deliver these files to you.” You laughed a little bit. Jon looked at you, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“Right. Well, I am still very sorry about that… (y/n).” Gently, he took the files from your hands and slipped past you, headed for his own desk.

Tim stepped forward and clapped a hand on your shoulder, “Nice job getting a full sentence out of the recluse.” Sasha shooed his arm off of you. “Oh, hush Tim. They had to get hit by a door for that.”

You nodded in response, not really listening to them.

'What a strange guy.'

Martin #1

'Alright (y/n), let’s start this day out right. Jon chose you to work on his staff, which is weird because you thought he couldn’t stand you, but that’s besides the point.'

You jogged past research, headed deeper into the archives. Pushing open the door, you smiled as you took in the sight of the office. Four blank desks. You counted as you walked closer. 'Guess that it’s not just going to be Tim and Sasha.'

A snuffling noise was heard behind you. Quickly, you set down your bag on one of the desks and slowly approached one of the other desks. Bending down, you peeked under the desk. You were met with big brown eyes staring back at you. A small dog, (Cocker spaniel mix by the looks of it) sniffed at you.

“Huh.” You moved back a little bit, allowing the dog to pad forwards. You held out a hand, clicking your tongue. It gently licked your fingers.

'Alright, it’s friendly.' You stood back up. 'But I’m not picking it up. It might not be okay with that.' You looked around, hoping to see someone who could help you. But you heard something from a room nearby. It sounded like yelling.

'That must be Jon’s office. Maybe he’ll be able to help me.' You turned back to the dog. “Uh, stay I guess.” It cocked its head at you. 'I guess that’ll do.' Quickly, you marched over to where Jon’s voice was getting louder.

You pushed the door open and peeked your head in, seeing Jon, standing and angry while a tall rounder man stood in front of him. The poor guy looked like a kicked puppy.

Quickly, you stepped completely into the office, “Hey Jon.” He snapped his head towards you, away from the sulking man. 'Oh goodness, he’s pissed.' “ So, glad to be working here and all, but I was just wondering why there’s a dog in the office?” You had hoped that your small attempt at humor would draw his attention away from his disdain at the man in front of him, but instead he gave the poor guy a searing side-ways glare.

“Why don’t you ask him.” The Strawberry-blond man flinched slightly. He looked at you, his eyes clearly showing that he was upset. “Ah, well. I was outside and I couldn’t open the door. M-my hands were full, so I pushed it open with my foot and the dog just kinda slipped it before me.” He stared at the wall next to your head.

“Weren’t you ‘making friends’ with it?” Jon sneered. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe Elias just assigned me another assistant without talking to me about it. I already have three other people, all of which I know are competent.” He had started pacing around his desk, not looking at either of you.

Quickly, you stepped in front of Jon, blocking his path and forcing him to look at you. He delivered one of his best glares. “Jon. Knock it off. It was a simple mistake and it’s an easy fix.” You gave him a small smile, hoping to ease some of the tension. “Besides, it’s good luck for something bad to happen on the first day of work. Gets all the bad stuff out of the way.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, but he was no longer mad. Just mildly annoyed. “First of all, that’s for restaurants if they break a glass. Secondly, you know I don’t believe in superstitions.”

You shrugged, “Nobody said that the sentiment isn’t applicable elsewhere.” He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes at him and stepped backwards, standing besides the strawberry blond. “Now, why don’t you get set up in here while me and... ” you trailed off, realizing that you didn’t know this man’s name. He looked at you and gaped a little, relaxing what you were doig. Quietly, he leaned forward and whispered, “Martin.”

”Right. Martin and I will go get the dog and then we can see if we can call the owner.” You looked at Martin and nodded towards the door. He sighed and left. You followed him and shut the door behind you.

It had seemed that in the time it had taken for you to get Jon to calm down, Tim and Sasha had arrived. Tim was sitting on the floor, the dog laying in his lap. Sasha was taking pictures. 'What else did I expect?'

“Well, at least we don’t have to catch it.” You looked at Martin, who was leaning against the wall, his hand on his forehead. “Oh, you okay?” You stepped forward and searched his face. He dragged his hands over his face, sighing loudly.

“Y-yeah, it’s just…” he let out a nervous laugh, “That wasn’t exactly the greatest first impression, was it?”

“Ah, well… no.” he looked at his feet. “But, I don’t think that Jon is ever impressed.” You laughed a little. “Sasha’s the only one that he can really tolerate.” You smiled at him. He offered a small smile back.

“Oh, speaking of which, you should come meet the rest of the team.” You held out your hand. “I’m (y/n), by the way.”

Gently, he took your hand and shook it.

Tim #1

'First day on the job, and I get saddled with library duty.' You sighed as you scanned the walls of files, searching for whatever the student at the desk wanted. 'I thought I was supposed to be working in research.' You found the case, marked with a tan tab. You grabbed it and handed it to the person over the counter. They thanked you and left.

'Well, this job is still important.' You took a deep breath and then sneezed. 'Important and dusty.'

“Bless you.” You turned on your feet. In front of the counter stood a tall man with dark hair and bright brown eyes. He waved at you, a friendly smile plastered on his admittedly handsome face. You felt some heat prickle at the base of your neck. 'Thank god for this turtleneck.' Quickly, you took a deep breath, calming your nerves. “Ah, thank you.”

He leaned over the counter. “No problem. Anyway, I hear that you’re the new hire?” You nodded. “First day here, and they threw you down to the library.” He chuckled lightly, “They normally wait a couple of weeks for that.” You hummed in response as you shuffled through some papers.

“Do you need anything?” You stapled a late form to a file. He rested his hand on his cheek. “Just wanted to get a look at the new addition.” Heat once more tickled your collarbone. You looked to him, hoping that your face only showed neutral politeness. “And?”

He laughed, a little louder this time. A couple of heads turned his way, but he didn’t take notice. “Alright, you got me. I’m hoping that you have a file on Russian circuses in the 1800’s?” He tilted his head a bit to the side, his smile lopsided.

“Uh, let me check.” You walked into the back, scanning the walls of files. It took you a bit, but you finally found a few and decided to grab them all. You quickly walked back to the front desk, weaving between the walls. He was still there, just now with his back facing towards you, his elbows propped on the counter. He turned, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Did you find some?”

You held up your hand. “I actually managed to find quite a few. Thought that you’d want to see them all.” You set them on the counter, quickly jotting down the file numbers onto your check-out list.

“You thought right!” He drummed his fingers on the counter, his excess energy rolling off of him in waves.

“Glad I could help, uh…” You looked at him, tapping your pen on the list.

“Oh, how rude of me!” He laughed again, and held his hand out. “Name’s Timothy Stoker, but please, call me Tim!”

Smiling, you took it lightly, “Alright Tim. Name’s (y/n).”

You wrote his name down on the list and gently pushed it to the side. “I think that you’re good to go.” You tapped the files. “Try not to keep them too long. I’d hate to have to write up a late form so soon.”

He grabbed the files and jokingly saluted you with a wink. “Well (y/n), hopefully you won’t have to. Maybe I’ll see you in the office.” He then quickly turned on his feet and marched away.

You knew that your blush had crept past your shirt collar, but you couldn’t care less.

“Yeah, I hope so too.” You whispered quietly to yourself.

Sasha #1

'Damn this computer.' You watched as the loading circle continued to flash, despite the fact that the wifi seemed to be working just fine. 'Please just load.'

You bit back and small sigh. It wasn’t like this was anything new. The computers that were provided in the Magnus Institute were kinda shitty. You had learned that in the past couple of weeks that you had been working in research. You’d think that in a place like this, they’d have better equipment.

'I don’t see why we can’t just bring in our own laptops.' But that had been banned for some reason by Gertrude, the Head Archivist.

'Can’t have shit I guess.'The computer in front of you still held onto that loading circle, taunting you.

You sighed this time, your frustration bubbling to the top. 'All I want to do is my job. Just my job. But I guess I don’t get to do that.'

“Hey, do you need help?” Someone approached you from behind.

You looked up, craning your head from the chair you sat in. A taller dark skinned girl was looking at you, head slightly cocked. You recognized her, but you just couldn’t remember her name. 'Is it Sarah?' You realized that you had been looking at her for too long.

“Oh, uh yeah. It isn’t really connecting.” You scootched your chair a little bit to the side, so you didn’t have to turn to see her.

“Hm, let me see.” She leaned closer to the computer, and you felt her hair ever so slightly brush your shoulder. You moved a little further away.

After a few moments and some clicking, she looked at you again. “So, it looks like someone connected this to the printer wifi, which never works. Just give it a few moments and it should reconnect to the main source.” She stepped back, a small smile now lighting her face.

“Oh, thanks. I probably never would have even noticed that.” You smiled at her, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. She waved her hand. “Please, it’s no problem. These computers are shit anyway.” She clasped her hands together, “I’m Sasha, by the way. You’re (y/n), right?” She crossed her hands and leaned back on your small desk.

“Yeah. Probably haven’t seen me too much. Gertrude’s just kinda had me running files around.” Sasha scoffs at that. “Oh God, that old crone. Oh don’t look so panicked.” She noticed you looking around, like you were expecting Gertrude to pop up at any given moment. “She’s taking a statement right now, and nobody’s gonna snitch on us.”

You nervously chuckled, “I hadn’t even thought about someone snitching.” She laughed a little bit, much more relaxed than you. “Well, you don’t have to. Trust me, it’s a pretty good group down here.”

You shrugged, a smile stretched across your face, “I’ll take your word for it.”

Elias (derogatory) #1

You once more smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles on your pants. Really, you just needed to fidget with something. And you didn’t want to risk accidentally tearing the file in your lap.

'I don’t even know what I’m doing here.' You sighed. 'There’s no way I’m gonna be able to land this job.'

You had submitted your resume just to put yourself out there, not at all expecting to actually land an interview. 'They must be desperate or something if they’d actually consider me.'

Someone cleared their throat. You snapped your head towards the sound, the lady at the desk politely nodding her head towards the door down the hall.

“Mr. Bouchard will see you now.”

'Might as well get this over with.' You stood and once more smoothed your clothes. The hallway felt like a mile long, but you made it to the door in a few quick strides. Tentatively, you knocked.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open and carefully stepped in. The office was lovely. Bookshelves lined the walls, dark brown and chock full of large volumes and files. It was painted dark grey with dark intricate trimming.

Seated at a large oak desk was an older gentleman in an olive suit. He stood out, the paleness of his skin and blond hair a stark contrast to the room. He wore a pleasant smile, one that didn’t quite match up with his eyes.

“Ah, (y/n). Please take a seat.” He gestured to the chair nearest you, his movements fluid and measured. You wished that you had an ounce of that poise.

“So, let’s begin then, shall we?” He took the file from your hand and opened it, examining it like it was something of utmost importance. “What makes you think that you would fit into this institute?”

'I’m a social recluse who can bury themselves in work.' You pushed that thought out of your head. “I tend to enjoy busywork, which I understand that there is plenty of that in a job like this. And I’m willing to put forward effort to ensure that my work is satisfactory.”

He hummed. “ Where do you see yourself in five years?” 'Who knows, I can’t even think about the future without spiraling.' You shoved that down and plastered a small smile on your face.

“Hopefully moving forward in life with plenty of new skill sets that I hope to acquire here.”

“And what skills would that be?” He flipped a paper in your file, still not looking at you. Which was fine.

“I suppose that I hope to gain more experience with working for the public.” 'Public that isn’t retail.' It may have been years since that job, but you still cringe whenever the thought came up.

Gently, Elias nodded. Slowly, with more precision than necessary, he closed the file and looked at you. Really looked at you with eyes that were far too green and old. Eyes that seemed to know everything. Eyes that compelled you. He smiled, looking like the cat who got the cream, “What is your greatest weakness?”

“My willingness to follow.” 'Shit.' You hadn’t wanted to say that aloud. You didn’t even want to think about that.The base of your neck felt tingly and you held your hands together tighter, refusing the urge to itch. 'Why did I do that? '

His grin grew, the tips of his teeth beginning to show. Yet his eyes were still focused on you. Far too focused. “Hmm, and what about your fear?”

“Why do you need to know my fears?” You choked on those words. You grasped at every inch of will power in you to ask that, but what could possibly be making you do that? The tingling feeling was back, drilling at the base of your skull. 'What the fuck is going on here.'

His smile returned to its neutral politeness, but there was almost a strained look to it. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. “Well, we do handle plenty of statements and artifacts here that deal with, hm, heavier material. I just want to be sure that you will be okay about doing such work.”

“I know my limits.” 'I’m not telling you anything else.' Your face felt pale and your voice felt far too weak.

“Well, I believe that we’ve finished here.” He stood, dusting off his perfectly tailored suit even though nothing could have possibly been there. He held out his hand to you, some fraction of his smile finally reaching his far too green gaze. “Welcome aboard Mx. (l/n). I'll be very glad to show you around when you come in next week.”

You took his hand, not even bothering to ask what you would be doing. All you could feel was dread numbing you. 'What have I done?'

Daisy #1

“Looks like Jon’s attracted another copper.” Tim’s voice sang in your ear, full of teasing. You stiffened and you felt your top lip curl. Fuck, you knew that working in the institute would mean talking to cops, but you thought that it would only be an occasional thing. 'But it seems that Jon just can’t get enough of them.'

“This place already had far too many cops with Basira hanging about.” You huffed as you closed the file that you had.

“Yeah, what is she even doing here, anyway?” Martin rolled over in his chair. Tim rested his arms on the back on it, making Martin dip back. “I bet that they’re together. I mean, she seems like his type. Strong, steely, calm.”

“Shame she’s a cop.” you hissed. Tim nodded beside you. “Yes, shame that she’s a cop.”

Martin sighed beside you. “We don’t even know if him and Basira are doing anything.” Tim hums, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. He nudges you instead, “You want to handle that?” He nods towards the tall blonde cop in the doorway, her own lips turned sharply into her own sneer. 'Not really.'

Martin nervously laughed, “Erm, Tim? I really don’t think that that’s a good idea. I-I mean, nothing wrong with you, (y/n), but it’s just, hah, very obvious that you don’t like, y’know?” He gestured to one of the many bracelets on your wrist, specifically the gold one with shiny cursive letters that spelt out ACAB.

Tim laughed at that. “Very well noted Martin. Personally, I think (y/n)’s whole “air of hostility” thing was a pretty good indicator already.” He pulled Martin's chair back. “But I think that this’ll be very entertaining to watch.” He nudged your shoulder and gave a pointed look forward. The cop was walking towards your desk now, her dark eyes simmering with barely contained frustration. You didn’t even look as Tim dragged Martin away, giggling. You just wanted to match the intensity of her gaze.

“You work here?” She growled. She stood rim-rod straight and her gaze looked down on you, like you were beneath her. 'Bitch.'

“No, I just like breaking in here and sitting at a random desk.” you spat. She narrowed her eyes at you and leaned forward a little, somehow tensing more. “Are you getting smart with me?”

“Would you prefer I get stupid?” Her fist flexed and she scoffed, but it made no further efforts. You faintly heard Tim’s choked chuckle.

“What do you want anyway?” You made no effort to conceal just how pissed you were. She sneered at you.

“I’m looking for Jonathan Sims. I’m here to give a statement or some shit.” Her foot had begun to tap.

“Yeah, we tend to do those. Up the stairs and to your right. The door is marked ‘Archivist’.” You jerked your hand towards the second level. She nodded and made to move, but she stopped and stared.

At your hand.

At your bracelet.

Uh-oh

She shifted back on her feet, somewhat relaxed. Yet her posture was suddenly much more threatening to you. She regarded you with half-lidded eyes, her expression unreadable. “What’s your name.”

'Shit. Play it cool.' You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair, attempting to look unbothered. “What, do you want to file a complaint or some shit?”

She leaned forward and smiled. Well, more like bared her teeth. “No. I just want to keep it in mind.” Your face twisted in confusion. 'Well that’s vague as shit.'

“That really doesn’t make me want to give you my name.”

Her smile disappeared as she once more decided to look intimidating. “I don’t care.”

You looked her dead in the eye, hoping that you were just as intimidating as she was. “Alright, then what's yours?”

she stepped back, as if she were giving you enough room to process her words. “Daisy. Daisy Tonner.” she said evenly. she nodded to you indicating it was your turn to speak. 'Uh, might as well if it makes her go away.'

“(Y/n).” She gestured, as if telling you to continue. You simply scoffed. 'Like hell you’re getting my full name.'

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Be difficult.” She turned on her heels swiftly and stomped up the stairs, barging into Jon's office. You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding.

“ Well that was fun.” Tim came up at your side, nudging you between the ribs. Martin came over much more quietly and pointed at your bracelet. “ Maybe we should have taken that off.”

“ Nah. I think that it’s a good thing that (y/n) expresses themselves.” Tim laughed and Martin nervously chuckled a bit. You bit your tongue.

'What does she want with my name?'

Micheal Shelley #1

Like most friday afternoons, you were once more hanging around the Magnus institute library. You found so many of their resources and books fascinating. But there was something else here that had caught your attention.

A young man, a little younger looking than you even, had been running into the library and out, always carrying some file or book. He looked flustered and determined, and everytime that he came in, more of his long blond hair had fallen out of his ponytail, framing his round face. You had also noticed a nametag on him. 'Must work here.'

You were honestly barely paying attention to the book you were reading, you were just waiting for the tall blond to enter the library again. But time passes so quickly for you in the library and it was nearing closing time.

Sighing, you stood and grabbed your notebook and pens, carefully putting them in your bag. 'They close for the weekend, so I’ll just have to wait for another day.' You put your jacket on and felt your pocket for cigarettes. Sure enough, your pack was there. Normally, a day in the library was a calming thing and you didn’t have to turn to any of your vices, but today had not been relaxing at all.

'Just gotta get out of here.' There was no way you were going to have any open flame inside the institute. You exited the building, cold air nipping your nose. You turned the corner, pulling out your lighter and your pack when you noticed someone sitting on the curb, their blond hair flowing down their back and their head tucked into their arms.

'It’s him.' You stopped in your tracks, mildly surprised. 'Guess the odds are in my favor today.' Carefully, you walked towards him. He lifted his head at your footsteps. You noticed that his eyes, a lovely pale green, were barely holding back tears.

“You good?” 'Great start, jackass.' He took a deep breath. “Not really.” His voice was light and airy, not really what you were expecting. He shifted a little to the side. “You could sit if you want. I don’t know if I’ll be any sort of good company, though.”

“Ah, Thanks.” You sat gingerly, awkward tension filling the air. You fiddled with your lighter. 'Well, here goes nothing.' You held up your pack, “Cigarette?” He cocked his head. “I’ve never smoked. Why do you?”

“Um, I guess because it helps with stress. It’s like a breathing control thing, but not a very good one.” You laughed a little at your joke. He hummed, giving you a nervous smile. “Think I could try?” You nodded, and held out the pack. He carefully took one, examining it.

You took your own and placed the filter in your mouth. You flipped your lighter, cupping the flame and offered it to him first. It’s only polite . Gingerly, he touched the cigarette to the flame and put it in his mouth once it had caught. You lit your own, and took a drag, the acrid taste bathing your tongue and warming you from the inside. You held your breath and then blew from your nose smoothly. Looking back at him, you were met with him staring at you, his cigarette still fresh.

“So, how does this work?” He mumbled around it. You tried not to laugh, but a small exhale from your nose still escaped with a little more smoke. “Alright. So, you're going to want to breathe in, hold it for a few seconds or so, and then breathe out slowly. Try not to go overboard.” He nodded, his face screwed up in concentration. He breathed in, way too deeply, and after a couple of seconds began to cough and sputter, his eyes watering again. Shit.

“Oh God, are you okay?” He coughed some more before taking a deep breath in. And then he began to laugh. And what a laugh. It was so breathy and different. You found yourself bubbling with laughter, more warmth spreading throughout you. After a bit of that, he sighed, and let out another small cough.

“I think I overdid it.” he chuckled. You hummed. “Yeah. But that wasn’t bad for your first time. You managed to hold that in for a couple of seconds.” He laughed a little bit more, and you felt your face split into a grin.

He faced you, his own grin plastered onto his face. “I’m Michael. Michael Shelley.”

You nodded. 'Fits him.' “(y/n) (l/n). Nice to meet you Michael.” You took another drag. He shrugged. “Mmh, Sorry that you had to meet me on one of my off days.” You exhaled and waved your hand. “Don’t worry about it. We all have them.” He smiled lightly and took a much smaller drag, smiling when he didn’t cough.

Distortion #1

“Are you real?”

You recognized that that was a rude question, but you're pretty sure that you’re justified here. 'I just need to know.'

Before you, staring at you quietly with eyes like a kaleidoscope, stood a … man? Person? Thing? You don’t know, but before you stood something that looked somewhat human. The cheshire grin that it had been sporting moments ago had fallen from its lips. The air around you fizzled and crackled, like the static of an old television.

'My hallucinations have never been like this.' Normally, when everything around you began to appear wrong, it came in small waves that affected everything. Like colors switching on you, or maybe hearing music. It’s never presented itself like this.

So when you had seen an achingly bright yellow door in an alleyway while walking home from work, you had gone to investigate. You didn’t touch it, just watched it.And after 20 minutes, this thing had stepped out of the door. So now, you were standing in an alley late at night and talking to what is most likely a hallucination. 'A very vivid hallucination.' You noticed as the thing in front of you shifted every time you looked at it. Like it was trying to mimic the idea of a person, but it hadn’t quite got it.

It’s skin was far too saturated, its hair looked like a cloud of sunshine, and its lips were too big for it’s oddly round face. Not to mention that it shifted, like a poorly made frame-by-frame cartoon. But its hands really stood out. Larger than your head, it seemed like they hung off of the thing in front of you, fingers that curled and sharpened the more you looked at them dragging on the ground. Which was quite impressive, as it stood at an alarmingly tall height.

“In what sense do you mean?” Its lips didn’t move with the words that it said, and its voice echoed and buzzed in your head. Its voice sounded breathy, but its chest didn’t move at all.

“I mean, do you exist normally or am I making you up.” It smiled at that, glowing brighter and hurting your eyes. The air around you became much more hazy. It laughed. And what a laugh. Its laugh bounced around you and in your head, making the hair on your arms stand. The laugh couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but you felt like you had been listening to it for hours.

Blood dribbled freely from your nose, but you hardly felt anything as it walked closer to you, some of its form trailing behind it as it stepped closer. It chuckled quietly now, its teeth bared to you. It leaned down, and you felt like you could get lost in its eyes if you weren’t trying so hard to pay attention to everything that it was doing. 'Kinda difficult with the air feeling like the inside of a bee hive.'

It lifted its hand and brushed your hair out of your face, oh so gently, before it drew a line over your eyebrow, barely missing your eye, and dipped into your cheek. It drew its hand away, its sharp smile wider and its hair flowing like it were underwater. Half of your gaze filled with red as blood flowed into it and fell off your cheek. The cut was seering and grounding.

“Well, have you decided if I exist?” It stepped back and cupped its cheek, almost thoughtful looking. You took a deep breath.

“Yes. That was a very convincing presentation.” You nodded and turned to leave, carefully keeping your other eye on it. The energy in the air seemed to stop and its grin faltered. But its eyes were locked on something in front of you.

You bumped into something hard. The door had appeared in front of you, its yellow glow seeming to suck in all the color of your surroundings. The handle was level with your hand. You almost scoffed. 'Really? Like I’m going to fall for that.'

Slowly, you looked back at the thing that had cut you. “ Do you go by anything?”

Its face was blank, eyes shifting colors rapidly. “Michael.” It drawled. You nodded. “Alright Michael. Thank you for answering my question.” You left, head pounding.

Gerry

You heard a loud thump. 'Well that can’t be good.' Quickly, you walked to the back of the studio, expected to find someone’s sculpture knocked over. Instead, you found some kid with shoulder length hair, clearly dyed black judging by the pale roots, crouching below an open window clutching a book with bruised hands. He looked at you, his pale eyes wide. He raised his hand to his lips and put one finger over his mouth, which had a couple piercings.

You looked out the window and saw a small group of people standing on the school lawn, looking around. Even from where you were, you could see some of them scowling. Looking back at the guy, you gave him the slightest of nods and walked over, closing the window, pulling the shade, and locking it. He let out a breath.

“Thank y-” You held up your hand.

“What’d you do?” He stared at you, and you could have sworn that you recognized this guy. 'I haven’t seen him around campus though.'

“What?” He scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing.

“What did you do? Sorry, but most people don’t enter the studio via window with a bunch of people looking for them. And something tells me that this isn’t some game of hide and seek.” You crossed your arms at him. He sat up a bit straighter.

“ I stole this book.” He mumbled, not looking you in the eye. You saw a red mark on his cheek. 'All this over a book?'

You instead hummed. “Alright.” He looked at you, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You aren’t going to ask any questions?” You hummed, biting your lip. Then nodded. “Do you want an iced water bottle for your face?”

He looked at you and chuckled lightly. “Sure.” You quickly went and grabbed your bag, returning with the bottle. He winced when he pressed it to his face.

You continued to watch him, trying to pin down how exactly you knew him. You took in his multiple ear and eyebrow piercings. You stared at the two studs in his chin. You took in his pale skin that held a few freckles. Then it hit you.

“Oh, you're that book shop keepers kid.” He startled at your words. “Are all the books there secretly stolen or something?”

He stared at the ground. “No. This one is… a copy of a rare book that we have and we don’t really want to deal with copycats.”

“So you stole it.” He nodded. You hummed.

“Listen, if you're going to tell a shitty lie, try not to be so obvious about it. Try looking people in the face. “ He looked at you, looking somewhat annoyed. You held up your hands. “Look, I don’t care why you did it, but if you’re going to do this regularly, try to get better at lying.”

“Why do you care?” he snapped. You shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s because I’m not all caught up on the apparent drama of rare book collections.” He laughed at that, shaking his head. You felt your own smile tug at your face.

“Y’know, you’re lucky that it’s only me here to find you. Some of the art kids are real squealers.” You held out your hand. “I’m (y/n). Certified ‘not squealer’.” He laughed again and took your hand. You pulled him to his feet. “Gerry. Certified ‘ book thief’.”

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Oh, now you’re certified. Well, riddle me this. If you’re really a certified thief, wouldn’t it be smarter to wear joggers and not combat boots?”

He scoffed. “And ruin my whole get up?”

You put your hand to your forehead, feigning surprise. “Shit, how could I forget. The aesthetic of a thief is crucial to their performance.” He smiled. You walked forward and waved your hand. “Follow me. I think I know a way that’ll get you off campus without attracting any attention.”

You heard his heavy footsteps follow, but you didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

Jon #2

After your first talk with Jon, it seemed like it had become easier to find him. You’d even managed to get him to have full on discussions. And through these talks, you had learned something about him.

‘I get being skeptical of some things, but everything?’ You watched as he tapped away at his computer, scowling at whatever he was writing about. ‘Why work here then?’

“Y’know, you could just go and talk to him instead of staring from across the room.” You whipped your head around to glare at Sasha, who hadn’t even looked up from her file. You ran your hand through your hair,

“I just don’t get it. Why?” You sighed.

Sasha shrugged. “I don’t know why Jon does anything (y/n). But you could try finding out through good old fashioned communication.” She raised her hands and did a little jazz hands motion. You laughed a little, but still felt your lips tugging down in a frown.

“Mh, but wouldn’t it be weird if I just approached him? Like, don’t I need some reason to be over there?” Sasha sighed and turned in her chair to look at you, a small teasing smile gracing her lips.

“No. And your reason for being over there is to talk to him.”

“Ugh, you sure you don’t have a file that I could deliver to him?”

Sasha laughed a little, “What, do you want me to walk you over there too?” You groaned.

“Sashaaa, I don’t know how to approach people.” You whined. ‘That’s not entirely true.’ You thought. ‘You just don’t know how to approach Jon.’

She sighed and looked around. “Look, I’m sure that there’s some lead that you can help him with. God knows that he snaps at everyone who tries, but he seems to tolerate you and I, so just find out what he’s looking into.”

You scoffed, “Probably because we didn’t participate in Tim’s little sticky note prank.”

Tim, Hannah, and David had decided that it had been a good idea to cover Jon’s desk with sticky notes, and filled them with drawings of ghosts and spiders. You had sat out since you didn’t want to do it and Sasha had been sick, exempting her from any blame. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so pissed’.

Sasha nodded, “Yeah, Tim’s gotta work his way out of that one. Well, go on and figure out how to talk to your new found fixation.” She shooed her hands at you and turned back to her work. You rolled your eyes, hoping that it wasn’t obvious as heat scored your cheeks. ‘I just think that he’s interesting, that’s all.’

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked over to his desk. He turned to you, his scowl plastered to his face. “Can I help you?” he drawled, turning back to his work.

“Actually, I was going to ask you that. You look like you’re going to melt your computer by glaring at it.” You smiled a little, hoping it would mask just how nervous you felt. ‘I really didn’t think this through.’

He scoffed. “I don’t need help. I just can’t believe what this institute wastes it’s time on. I mean, just look at this nonsense!” He gestured to his computer, his face twisted in anger. “ I understand having useful information accessible to the public, but why let the public fill the system with garbage?” He groaned and rested his face on his hand.

“I don’t really know Jon, but I suppose that does lead me to another question.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, but it still felt rather intense. ‘Welp, here goes nothing.’

“Why work here if you don’t believe in any of this?” He turned to face you fully now, his dark eyes unreadable.

After a couple of rather awkward silent seconds he took a deep breath. “I don’t see how my skepticism ties into my work ethic.”

“I actually think it does.” you said rather quickly, with a bit more bite than you wanted.

“What I mean is, I find that if I believe in something, I tend to be more willing to find out what happened. And even if it does end up being fake, then at least I know that I found an answer.” ‘nice job (y/n). Very articulate.’

He leaned back in his chair, and sighed. “ I try to put the same amount of work into each task, not more or less. If I’m swayed by my beliefs, then that wouldn’t make me a very good researcher.” He gestured to his computer. “Also, I am very sure that whoever submitted this one was dared to do so.”
You nodded, “Alright. I suppose that makes sense. And yeah, that does happen. We just kinda shoved those in the back and hope that they rot.” You smiled at him. He nodded and turned back to his work.

Realizing that this conversation was over, You turned and made to leave, calling over your shoulder, “But please, try to tell me when you find one that you think is at least halfway true.”

You didn’t see his slight nod as he returned to his work.

Martin #2

Working under Jon proved to be both difficult and rather fun. Sasha and Tim managed to make most mundane tasks rather fun and Martin was able to make some of the best tea that you’ve ever had. Jon continued to be rather difficult, especially with Martin.

‘I know that Jon’s stressed and all, but he could give the poor guy a break.’

You watched as Martin once more was tasked with stapling by Jon, who had deemed him, “far too incompetant to be of much help.”

‘Ass’

You approached him, carefully making sure to ensure that he heard you coming up behind him, not wanting to accidentally startle him.

“Hey Martin. Mind if I join you?” He still jumped a little bit, but he nodded. “If you want.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You stepped next to him and began to staple in silence.

‘I should have thought about a topic beforehand.’ Now you were trying to look for something to talk about, but you were coming up short. You felt his eyes land on you, even though he was trying to be discreet about it.

‘Why am I so weird. This is so weird. Now he thinks you’re weird. Nice going.’ You cleared your throat, hoping to come up with something. “So, how’ve you been?”

‘You are so stupid, why did you say that?’ You mentally berated yourself. Martin sighed beside you, “Ah well, I'm sure that you caught the whole thing in the office earlier, but other than that, I’ve been just peachy.” He spat as he stapled his papers. You winced at the harshness of his tone.

“Jon tends to be… yeah.” You couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t vulgar, and Martin didn’t really seem to be in a joking mood. He sagged beside you. “Yeah.”

“B-but, he’s wrong y’know. You really do help out a lot around here!” He gave you a look out of the corner of his eye, one that said ‘don’t lie to me to make me feel better.’

“No really! Like, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who's so willing to do so much boring paperwork or who follows up on leads so thoroughly!” You smiled at him. “I mean, you track people down like you're a bloodhound or something! It’s really impressive how thorough you are with getting answers.”

He hummed, scratching the back of his neck. “So, you don’t think that I’m only good for tea?” there was a slight teasing tone to his voice.

“Nope, but the tea is definitely an added benefit.” He laughed at that and sighed, finally turning to face you. “Thanks (y/n). I-it’s nice to know that I’m actually helping.”

You scoffed. “The only way that you could really do any harm in this archive is if you start setting the statements on fire, but perhaps that’d be helpful with how much of a mess this place is.” He laughed louder now, his face rosy.

“I’ll keep that in mind if things ever get too dire around here.” Silence resumed around you two now as you went through your work, but it was much more comfortable.

Tim #2

Unfortunately, you ended up working in the library for the first two weeks of what was supposed to be your job in research. But, when you had learned that there was a replacement coming along soon, so you couldn’t help but feel that the last few days down there went by much quicker.

So when you got to work that day to find all your things had been moved into the research department, you were ecstatic. ‘It’s not nearly as dusty here.’ You began to sort out your things when you heard the door open.

“Well, look who’s here bright and early! If it isn’t my favorite book worm!” Tim placed both his hands on your new desk, leaning over and smiling at you. You smiled a little bit. “How can I be your favorite? We’ve only talked like, twice.”

“Yep, but you’re the only one who actually held full conversations with me and stayed perfectly pleasant during the whole thing.” He popped the p’s and continued to smile at you, his eyes entirely too bright.

You scoffed and waved a hand at him. “They probably don’t like you since libraries are supposed to be quiet.”

He dramatically gasped and fell to the floor, his hand clasped to his chest. You leaned over your desk, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “I can’t believe you, (y/n). I can be so quiet!.” He peeked one eye at you, his smile still plastered to his face. You let a quiet laugh escape your lips. “You do realize that you just proved my point?”

He flopped his arms dramatically at his side. “Yeah, but I got you to laugh, so I’ll count it as a win.” He pushed himself off the floor.

You rolled your eyes, “And what exactly would constitute a loss?”

He leaned over your desk again, his feet now dangling above the ground.

“Well, I suppose that would be making you frown, which I don’t ever want to do.” he gave you an exaggerated wink. Your heart sped up a little, and you cursed yourself as a little warmth graced your cheeks. ‘Damn, that was smooth.’ You rolled your eyes, hoping to conceal just how affected you were. “Do you flirt with all the new hires?”

“He flirts with everyone.” At the doorway now stood a woman who looked a couple of years older than you. She smiled as she walked up to you, holding out her hand. “Hannah Jones. Don’t mind Tim, he’d flirt with a rubber duck if he could find the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes and pushed himself off your desk, smiling at Hannah. “Oh please, you only say that because I managed to get your fiancé to blush like a schoolgirl at the last workplace party.” Hannah waved a hand at him, laughing “Don’t remind me! I feel tempted to tease him about it whenever it gets brought up.”

You took her hand and shook it, “(y/n) (l/n). Nice to meet you.” Hannah nodded and walked over to Tim. “C’mon then Tim. Let’s leave (y/n) to get set-up. God knows how much of a distraction you can be.”

“Ugh, alright then.” He waved at you, his smile softer now. “Glad to be working with you, then.” And followed Hannah.

You sighed as you placed your things into your drawers. ‘He’s definitely a distraction.’

Sasha #2

What Sasha said had proved to be true. Other than Gertrude, the people you worked with were very pleasant, but you really only tried to hang around Sasha. She was the closest to your age and was incredibly helpful, so you tried to repay it by running her whatever she needed, be it files, books, or an occasional coffee.

You sat at your desk, typing away on your computer about the case in front of you. Thank god someone actually filled this thing out with all contact information. You were so focussed that you hadn’t noticed Sasha sneaking up behind you.

Two hands landed quickly on your shoulders, causing you to tense up in your seat. Sasha leaned over and looked you in the eye, her face split by her bright grin. “Boo.” You sighed and smiled a little. “Oh, hey Sasha. Need something?” You continued your work.

“Nope.” She popped the p, pulling up the extra stool that was near your area. “Just wanted to check in with you and, oh would you look at that.” She pulled a paper bag out of her bag and set it on your desk. “Looks like I accidentally picked up an extra pecan and cinnamon croissant on my way in from lunch!” She pressed her hand to her cheek in a look of mock surprise. “Well, I guess someone has to eat it.”

She looked at you, her lips pulled in a somewhat teasing smirk. “Perhaps someone who skipped their lunch break, again?” You scoffed and leaned back in your chair, smiling as you opened the bag. It’s still warm. “You’re a terrible actress, Miss James.” You took a bite out of the pastry thankfully, savoring how sweet it was.

“Well, perhaps you should actually take breaks.” She leaned forward, looking much more serious. You averted her eyes, focussing just to the left of her head. “Mh, yeah. Perhaps.” You took another bite of your snack, thinking.

“Wait a second.” You looked at her, slowly piecing something together . “You’re distracting me!” She smiled widely at you, giggling a little bit. “And here I thought I could get something past you.”

You shook your head, a smile finding its way to your face. “I guess I’m just easily distracted by the promise of snacks.”

She laughed, and you felt a bit warmer. “Good to know.” She stood from her seat and stretched her arms. “I’ll keep it in mind for the next time you forgo selfcare.” She gave you a teasing look.

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your work. “Careful, you might be rewarding bad habits.”

She scoffed lightly and left, grinning at a joke in her head.

Elias #2 (stinky)

Your first week hadn’t been too bad. Whatever had happened during the interview hadn’t happened again, even when you had briefly spoken to Mr.Bouchard on your first day. You just chalked whatever had happened that day up to nerves and tried to forget it.

Rosie had shown you around on your first day and explained the basics of your job. “Just find the files and deliver them to whoever asked for them.” It had sounded simple enough, but you had quickly learned that finding the files would prove to be rather difficult.

‘I would just like to speak to whoever organized this place and ask them exactly what they think ‘organized’ means.’ You scowled as you thumbed through the myriad of files on the shelf in front of you. ‘None of this makes any sense. There’s hardly any pattern here, and when it starts to make sense, something pops up.’

Currently, you were trying to locate case file #00012943 for someone in the library, but you just couldn’t seem to find it. You were so focussed, that you nearly missed the sound of quick clipped footsteps coming towards you.

You turned in time to see Elias, his dark suit pressed neatly to him. “Ah, Mx. (l/n). Good to find you here!” he clasped his hands together in front of him, a pleasant small smile barely gracing his lips.

“Oh, hello Mr. Bouchard.” You felt unnerved immediately, your flesh breaking out with bumps. ‘I’m not going to show it though.’ Struggling, you kept your voice even. “Can I help you with anything?”

He waved his hands. “Elias, please. And no, I just wanted to see how the new hire is doing, that’s all.” He laughed lightly. It was an eerie laugh, far too light and practiced. “Besides, I’m sure that you have plenty to do.”

‘So he’s aware of just how much of a mess this place is.’ You hummed in agreement. “If I may ask, what exactly is the filing system here? I’m trying to wrap my head around the order here, but it just doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

He laughed again, his eyes narrowing. “Yes, well, that would be due to a certain lack of supervision. Our last head archivist seemed to have misplaced a lot of our files. God knows why she did it.” He waved his hand in dismissal, almost like he was getting rid of a cloud of smoke.

“You’re not the only one struggling with this, so if you have any questions, I’m sure that the archival staff would be happy to help you sometime.” He put his arms behind his back and smiled.

“And, of course, you know where my office is if you ever find yourself in any sort of trouble.”

‘Damn.’ Even you couldn’t deny that this man was awfully charming, even if you didn’t really feel safe around him. But you noticed that you didn’t feel quite as tense and your skin had become smooth again. You smiled at him, genuinely. “Thank you M- Elias.”

“Well, now that I’ve said my piece, I think I’ll take my leave. Good day.” He stepped past you and walked quickly, before stopping only a few paces away.

He did not turn to look at you.

“Oh, and that file that you were looking for? It’s a couple shelves up and to the left. A fascinating one, truly.” He resumed his pace and disappeared.

You felt a small pressure leave you. Like the ghost of a hand being lifted off of the base of your neck, and the hair there began to stand. You hadn’t noticed any feeling there before, but now that … something was gone you noticed its absence. You rubbed at it with your hand.

“I must be tired.” You shook your head and moved to the left, searching the rows of files that were barely in your reach. Finally, you saw the tab with the letters printed on it. ‘Well, at least my search is over.’

You quickly checked your list, before realizing that you never even mentioned a file to Elias.

Daisy #2

Filing was definitely your favorite part of the job. You enjoyed it. It felt like you were slowly making some progress of fixing the mess that the former head archivist had left behind, plus you got to listen to music. Granted, Martin had made you promise to not use your earbuds, so you weren’t too distracted.

‘It’s good that he’s so cautious, one of us has to be.’ You were humming along to the music playing from your phone, feeling completely content. For the past week, you had been in a pretty good mood. ‘Probably because neither Basira or her partner have been hanging around recently.’

You didn’t like cops. You didn’t trust cops. They put you on edge. The knowledge that someone had authority over you just because of some badge and a pair of handcuffs turned your stomach. And combine that with your personal beliefs, you definitely did not have a very high opinion of cops.

There was a sound nearby. Quickly, you paused your music and set down the file you were holding, straining to hear something. Heavy fast pacing footsteps echoed off the walls. ‘That definitely isn’t Martin, Sasha, or Tim. And Jon doesn’t stomp like that.’ Quietly, you walked forward and peeked your head around the shelf.

‘Oh. Great. It’s just her.’ Daisy was here. And out of uniform. She wore a jacket, flannel, and some jeans. She was pacing around, glaring at her joggers as she ran her hands through her hair. You could see that her teeth were gritted together, her jaw furiously stiff.

‘Wonder what’s got her so ticked.’ You shrugged, moving back to where you were. ‘Oh well, not my problem.’ You were just getting back to where you were when you heard a loud and solid THUD.

And then the sound to a bunch of papers hitting the ground.

“Oh for fucks sake.” You whispered as you turned on your heel and walked quickly back to where you were.

You couldn’t see Daisy, so you went closer to where you saw her. You reached the row where she had apparently stomped down and you found her standing in front of a pile of fallen files, papers falling out of some of them. She flexed her fist, knuckles red, and it wasn’t difficult for you to piece together just what she had done.

“God damn it.” You hissed, anger simmering. She turned and just scowled at you, like this was your fault.

You jogged over and gently moved her out of the way, crouching down to inspect the files.

“If you're going to hang around here, do you think that perhaps you could possibly not make this place more of a mess.” You shuffled the files into something of a stack and stood, a few papers falling to the ground. Glaring at the numbers, you recognized a few of them. You snapped your head towards her, your face twisted in anger and displeasure. She wore a similar expression.

“Of course you managed to do this to files that were actually in order.” You carried the files over to a small table nearby, slamming them down. She followed you.

You walked back and picked up all the stray papers, carefully trying not to wrinkle any of them. She stomped behind you.

You walked back over to the table and placed them down. She was behind you, her gaze making your neck prickle.

You set half of the files to the side, deciding that they didn’t seem too messed up, just somewhat out of order. You opened the rest of the files, trying to match the papers to them. “If you and your partner are going to keep snooping around here, could you at least try not to make our jobs harder?”

Daisy crossed her arms, a hiss escaping her lips. “Basira isn’t here.”

She leaned up against a shelf. You closed a file, its contents now reorganized and set it neatly to the side.

“Then why are you here?” With more force than necessary, you shuffled through the papers, finding not only a statement, but one that was missing it’s case file number. ‘Shit’. You pushed it off to the side, grabbing a different file.

She dug her fingers into her sleeves glaring at you. “I don’t know why I’m here. And I don’t like it.”

“Well, nobody’s keeping you here, so you can leave.” You placed the missing papers that belonged to the file back and noticed that you only had four left. ‘Easy’.

She scoffed. “That’s not the problem. I want to know why I’m here in this stupid building.” She spat the last words, her teeth bared.

You stacked two more files onto the pile, and you felt somewhat sorry for her. You sighed. ‘Well, might as well try to be nice.’

“Look, I don’t know why, but this building just kinda … attracts certain people. I don’t really know the pattern yet, but it’s good that you’re … aware of it.” You grabbed the last two files, easily finding their contents and labeling the statement with the case file number. Carefully, you combined the files, putting them in order.

She scoffed next to you. “Yeah, sure.” She looked at you out of the corner of her eyes, her face somewhat unreadable.

“What drew you here.” She is not asking for an answer. She’s demanding an answer. ‘How typical’ You don’t acknowledge the feeling of disappointment that fills your chest.

You pick up the files and give her a wide bitter smile. “I tend to gravitate towards messes.”

You move past her and walk towards the evident gap where the files fell from. You hear her follow you. You stop and turn towards her. “Could you knock that off.”

She crosses her arms and lifts a brow. “Knock what off?” she drawls.

You place some files into the shelf. “Trailing me. You don’t need to do that.” You shoved more files onto the shelf.

“I’m not going to run away.”

She scoffed. ”Yea, whatever.”

You place the rest of the files onto the shelf and dusted your hands off.

“Right. Well, now that that’s done, I’m going to go and you are going to leave.” You walked down the row, twisting on your foot so you were walking backwards to look at her.

She hadn’t moved.

“Try not to punch any more shelves on your way out.” You called out. You smiled a bit when you saw her jaw clench and heard a faint growl from her. You faced forward and took out your phone, pressing play on your playlist and started humming along.

Michael Shelley #2

It had been almost a week since that evening. And you had thought about it almost every day, about Michael and about how he hadn’t been able to finish the cigarette. Unfortunately, it seems that everything has been keeping you from being able to go to the institute library.

‘All those extra hours better be worth it.’ You were almost running through the crowds, cursing your job and all the coworkers whose shifts you had covered. You slowed and tried to straighten yourself out, taking a deep breath.

‘Calm down. You don’t even know if he’s here.’ Mentally, you prepared yourself for disappointment. ‘If he isn’t, that’s fine. Everyone deserves their days off. And either way, you can always find something interesting to read.’ You nodded to yourself in affirmation as you entered the building and signed in with the library staff, some of whom knew you at this point and waved politely. You waved back and then proceeded to lose yourself in the shelves of books.

The topics of the books and volumes here never failed to interest you. So many of them were so niche and different that you always found something to read. Today was a book about the intricacies of the bones of the human body. It was fascinating, as it described how some parts of the body managed to grow with you and how they would shift and change. Or just disappear. ‘Neat’.

You were busy writing in one of your many notebooks, this one specially for the things you learned that pertained to physical things and, as far as you knew, bones definitely fell in this category. So busy that you hadn’t felt the first gentle tap on your shoulder. The second one registered with you. You craned your head back and you just couldn’t keep a smile off your face as you saw the blond behind you.

“Oh goodness, sorry for bothering you, but I-I just wanted to know if, uh, I could sit here?” He gestured with one hand to the seat next to you. The other hand was nervously fiddling with the sleeve of his very nice orange sweater.

“Hey Michael. Of course you can sit down. It’s not like I own the place.” You moved your chair a bit to the side, giving him more space. A light pink flushed his face and he nodded, sitting down.

“What are you reading?” he whispered, his eyes focussed on your hands. You smiled, excited to share new information.

You were about to start talking when you realized that it would probably be a long discussion and… “Are you on your break? I really don’t want to be wasting your time.”

Michael frowned at that. “ You’re not ‘wasting my time’. And either way, Gertrude told me to go home early today.” He shrugged and gestured back to your book. “So, what’s it about?”

“Bones. But, you’re off the clock now?” He nodded. ‘Ok, here goes nothing.’ “Would you like to go get a coffee or something? W-we could talk on the way?” Your throat felt very dry.

Michael flushed a little and fiddled with his sleeve again. “Yeah. Coffee sounds good.” He clasped his hands together and smiled wider. “T-there’s a really good cafe a few blocks from here actually. They have a really good selection.”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating. “That sounds nice. I’ll just go put this pack where I found it.” Quickly, you excused yourself, hoping that you were not as red as you felt.

When you got back, Michael had put his coat and scarf on, and any blood that was in your body immediately swarmed to your face. You did not look at any of the librarians as you left, but you knew that you were definitely going to be teased.

Distortion #2

Your encounter with whatever had been in that alley had happened three weeks ago. You had mostly just brushed it off to the side, but that didn’t mean that there were still some … lingering effects.

Your first day back at work the day after, you had tried to hide the injury that was on your face. But nothing escapes the sharp eyes of Sasha. She had gasped, alerting Tim to the problem.

“Whoa (y/n), what happened to you?” He strode over and immediately invaded your personal space, pushing the hair that you had hoped would cover your face enough to hide your eye. Sasha quickly got a cloth from the breakroom and wet it, removing the concealer that you had used.

“I got hurt” had been your only answer while Sasha inspected the injury and applied hydrocortisone to it. Sasha had decided not to push you and Tim had asked if you wanted an eyepatch. You did not.

You had also caught yourself doodling at work. Namely eyes. Eyes that swirled and looked like those of a predator. Eyes that held the stars, cool and sharp. Eyes that drew you in, with lashes like knives. Eyes that were held by hands that were far too sharp and wrong in every way. You never could bring yourself to erase them and instead just put the drawings in a folder on your desk.

Now you were home. Sasha had walked with you again to the tube. ‘She must think that I got mugged.’ You thought as you opened your flat door. ‘I guess that that’s much more believable than what actually happened.”

You walked in and removed your shoes and coat, quickly making your way to your couch where you collapsed, your bones heavy with exhaustion. You wanted to relax, but something felt wrong. Something in the air. Something that made the space behind your eyes itch.

‘It’s here. Michael.’

Forgetting your tiredness, you immediately got up and walked towards your room, carefully looking around for a yellow door.

‘There’.

Your closet door had been replaced. It was so clearly out of place, but it stood there like it had been there long before you had even lived here. Carefully, never taking your eyes off of the door, you backed up and sat on your bed. You crossed your legs and just stared.

After about 10 minutes, your thoughts began to shift. ‘I should get some evidence of this thing.’ You picked up your phone and tried to take a picture of the door. It came out blurry and way too bright, but looking closer at it, you could see an outline on the door. An outline of It. Like Michael was pressing itself against the door.

‘Is it waiting?’ You stared at the door until your eyes started to hurt. “You can come out, you know.” You called, not daring to move from your spot. Nothing happened. You were very aware now of the electricity in the air and how you could feel your heartbeat in your ears, the two pulses fighting each other. Your mouth tasted like the smell of pool floaties.

TIme had passed, how much is unclear. The door hadn’t budged, but the buzzing in the air had overpowered your heartbeat. Gently, you stood, your bones feeling brittle. You walked to the door and then just stood there.

‘What am I even doing?’ You noticed that the door was now pulsing. ‘I don’t know what this thing; Michael, even is. What if I die?’ You raised your hand to the door and knocked. ‘At least it’d be an interesting way to go.’

You stepped back as the door swung open. Michael stood there now, no longer hiding and on full display. And goodness, what a display. The clothes that it wore seemed to change color every time you looked, yet no names could come to mind. It smiled, it’s face practically (probably) glowing and it’s hair moved on it’s own, framing Michael’s round face. It’s eyes swirled hazel and green and pink and red and… oh you were staring. ‘But how could I ever look away.’

“Well, I didn’t think that you would actually do it.” It walked around you, circling you. ‘When had it moved?’ It lowered its neck, its hair falling somewhat and taking the shape of long curls that accentuated its sharp smile. “Most people aren’t that stupid.”

“Do you want to kill me?” You turned and followed its movements, struggling to keep up. Your bones didn’t feel as heavy and some of the static in the air had faded. The pulsing had not and all the colors in your room seemed wrong.

It laughed lightly at that. “No. I don’t have any real wants. But I suppose that I don’t need you dead.” It straightened out, popping noise emitting from the air. “This is a visit.”

Now you were confused. ‘I can accept that this thing exists and the way it looks and acts, but this I can’t understand.’ You felt your face screw up, “Why?”

“Simple.” It dropped itself onto your bed, resting one of its hands in its lap while the other played with a loose strand of hair. “You are delusional. And while that wouldn’t be all too interesting on its own, you asked me if I was real.”

It began to laugh, and you swear that you could almost see the noise in the air. There was something genuine to it’s laugh, and you found yourself smiling a little. The laughter faded from the air and Michael sighed, fixing its eyes on you again. You could still feel its laugh bouncing around your head.

“I’ve had many people ask me many questions, but they always follow the same route. ‘What am I?’ It was… refreshing, I suppose, that you just took my answer.” Its smile was smaller, still far too large for its face.

“It must get annoying.” You gently rocked on your feet. ‘I’m not going to ask about what happened to those people.’ It hummed in agreement. “Yes, I do tire of the repetition. But it can be rather fun to listen to them try to answer the question themselves.” It giggled and rested a sharp finger on its temple, like it was recalling a fond memory. Then, it stood and strode forward with a surprising amount of speed.

“Well, this has been nice, but I do believe that I must take my leave.” It smiled at you, clasping its hands together and tilting its head, mimicking something almost pleasant.

“I’ll pop in again some other date. But do try to keep me out of your thoughts. Especially at that institute.” Its voice was sharper now, far less warbled. It had spat the words ‘that institute’ like it was the most disgusting thing it had ever known, and its form had sharpened. ‘Its being serious.’ You nodded, deciding that if this creature was being serious about something, it must be important.

“Goodbye Michael.” It nodded and quickly exited through your closet, the door closing behind it and shifting into your closet door once more. Everything had an almost green tint to it as you looked around.

Including the blood that was dripping from your nose.

Gerry #2

It had been a few weeks since you had helped Gerry. You didn’t really think too much about it, but you did think about how he didn’t let you get close to the bookstore. ‘Maybe he was just scared of getting in trouble.’ You had seen the bookkeeper a few times and she didn’t look like anybody that you wanted to cross.

But tonight wasn't about that. Tonight was about celebrating, wearing your best outfit, and getting drunk. And while you weren’t drunk, you were definitely tipsy and that was plenty for you. You decided to walk to your dorm, hoping that the cold air would sober you up a little.

‘This was a mistake.’ You cupped your hands together and breathed on them, clinging to whatever little bit of warmth you got. It was not a lot.

Your boots carried your feet and you were very aware of the sound of your footsteps. So, you were surprised when you heard something in an alleyway. You were also very surprised to find yourself by the Bookstore.

‘Maybe it’s a cat.’ You peered around the corner. You couldn’t see anything at all, which wasn;t surprising. ‘Who knows what time it even is’. But the click of a lighter started and you saw a flash of light.

Outlined by the light was none other than Gerry. ‘Makes sense. He does live here.’ But what caught your attention was that he was holding a book over the flame. It was a nice looking book, with dark trim and tan leather. It caught very easily.

You crept forward softly. You wanted to get a closer look. “Is this some sort of rebellion.” You whispered. Gerry stilled and swung towards you, his fist clenched and pulled back. You stepped back and put your hands up. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t think that through.”

He looked you up and down before setting back. “You’re drunk.”

You waved your hand and laughed quietly. “Only a little bit. But what are you doing?”

He gestured to the now smoldering pile of ashes. ”Getting rid of a leightner. What are you doing here?” You shrugged and made a noise that sounded like “I don’t know.”

You stepped a bit closer. “What’s a Leightner? Is it like a type of book?” He nodded.

“Okay. Why burn it then? Shitty writing of something?” He scoffed at that and looked away. “Yeah, something like that.” You rolled your eyes. ‘He’s still bad at lying.’

You shook your head and laughed a little bit. “Alright. Well, have fun with that.” You turned to leave the alley, but a hand caught your shoulder. You looked back and Gerry pulled his hand away like you were on fire. “Sorry, but where are you even going?”

“Back to my dorm, duh.” ‘Where else would I even go?’ You honestly didn’t even know at this point. Gerry looked at you like you had two heads.

“Yeah, but you’re clearly not sober. Do you even know where you’re going?” He was being serious, and you felt something in you soften. Not that you were going to acknowledge it.

You exited the alley, Gerry right at your heels, and pointed down the street. “I’ve got a really good feeling that it’s this way.” You knew you were right, but it wasn’t like it was a very convincing argument.

Gerry scoffed and shook his head lightly. “Ok, you’re not wrong, but I’m actually sober and I know where to go.” he walked past you and looked back, waiting for you to follow. You laughed again, and it was a bit louder this time.

“Are you offering to walk me home?” You walked up and nudged his arm lightly, a smile stuck to your face. Gerry smiled back, his lip piercings gleaming in the weak street light.

“Yes. I do owe you.” He nudged your arm this time.

You shrugged and rocked back on your feet. “I suppose you do. Lead the way Gerry.” You walked past him and turned on your heel to face him while you walked backwards. “Maybe on the way, you can tell me what a Leightner is.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Might as well.”

Chapter Text

Jon #3

You walked into the break room, relieved that your eyes could finally take a break from looking at a screen. ‘Honestly, some of these statements are going to make me question if I believe in the supernatural.’

Well, at least you get to make yourself a cup of coffee. You made your way to the counter and checked the pot. ‘Empty. Of course.’ You changed out the filter and added new grounds, cursing whoever decided to buy the cheapest brand that they could. ‘Probably David.’ You pressed the button, glad that at least someone had decided to refill the water.

‘Now I’ve just gotta wait.’ You drummed your hands against the counter and let out a puff of air. The rich scent of coffee began to fill the air, but it would be at least 4 more minutes. ‘And I of course left my phone on my desk.’ You sighed, your eyes roaming the room, when a small amount of movement caught your eye.

A somewhat sizable spider sat on the wall opposite from you. “Oh, hello.” You took a few steps closer. Upon closer inspection, the spider looked almost like a wolf spider, but it was much thinner and there was some webbing trailing behind it. It moved a little and looked up at you, it’s many eyes focussed. You tilted your head and hummed. ‘What are you?’

The door swung open and you straightened up as Sasha and Tim walked in. Tim clapped his hands together. “I smell coffee.” You nodded and headed for the cupboards. ‘I need a cup.’

Sasha pointed to the wall. “Is that a spider?” You pushed aside some mugs. ‘I’m not putting a spider in a coffee mug.’ “Yep.” you called. Tim bent down and looked at it. “Oh, a big one too.” Sasha looked around the room. “Where’s a newspaper?” Alarm flashed through you as you turned to look at her.

“Please don’t Sash. It isn’t even doing anything.” You gestured to the spider, which didn’t look like it had even moved. Sasha raised her hands and stepped back “Alright. But if it’s one of the jumping ones…” You went back to your search. “It’s not. And the jumping ones are cute.” Tim laughed. “How can a spider be cute?”

You moved to the next cupboard. “It’s a fuzzy little spider that does funky dances. I count that as cute.” You sighed in frustration. “Where are the paper cups?”

“Oh, we used the last ones the other day. Sorry.” Tim strode over and grabbed some mugs. You clicked your tongue in disappointment. “Damn.” You walked back to the spider, which only moved its pedipalps. ‘What now?”

The door opened again and Jon stepped in, a file in hand. He looked up and nodded politely to Sasha and scanned the room. The moment his eyes went past you as landed on the wall, he went rigid. Slowly, he moved back and set his file down on the counter.

“Sasha… where’s a newspaper.”

Sasha smiled while Tim laughed a little and looked at you. “Uh-oh, (y/n). Looks like Jonny’s on team ‘kill spider’.” You glared at Tim. “And what side are you on?” He raised his hands. “I’m spider neutral.” You sighed ‘coward.’

“Got it.” You barely heard Jon’s voice. You turned to see him holding up one of the many trashy magazines that Tim had purchased. Sasha smiled something wicked beside him. Jon strode toward the wall, rolling up the magazine as he went.

“Jon, don’t.” You glared at him, finally catching his eye. He sighed. “(Y/n), there are thousands of spiders. This one dying isn’t going to make a difference.” He turned back towards his target. “Besides, you don’t have anything to transport it in.” He raised his hand and time seemed to slow as it came down.

Without even realizing it, you shot your arm out. The magazine collided with it with a dull thwack. The spider didn’t even flinch.

Jon stared at you, his expression shifting through plenty of different emotions, shock being the most evident. Without taking your eyes off of him, you gently pushed the spider off of the wall and into your hand, where it still didn’t move. You stepped away from Jon, who now looked disgusted, and moved over to the window, opening it with your other hand. You stuck your hand out of the window and gently shook it, the spider landing softly outside. You closed the window quickly.

“(Y/n), what the hell?” Tim laughed as you walked towards the sink and washed your hands. Sasha was just about doubled over and Jon still stood where he was, his hands by his sides and the magazine limply hanging from his hand. His gaze was unfocussed.

You dried your hands and grabbed a mug, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You added your creamer and sugar. As you passed Jon, you whistled, getting his attention. His eyes flitted to you, his face blank.

Gently, you moved your ear forward, revealing a very small tattoo of a spider in a delicate dewy web. The look of shock and disgust on his face made your coffee taste much sweeter.

Martin #3

Martin had proved to be excellent company. You found yourself often chatting with him throughout the day. But there was something that you needed to know.

‘How does he make his tea so damn good?’ You had watched him brew and steep tea multiple times, yet everytime that you tried to replicate it at your house, you could never get it right.

You sighed and took a sip from your lukewarm mug. Black tea with enough honey to change the color and a splash of milk. ‘I didn’t even like black tea before.’ You almost laughed as you remembered Martin’s look of pure judgement when he had found your peach tea blend in the cupboard.

‘I’m not even going to try to bring up my preference for ice tea.’ You sighed and finished off your cup. You finished what you were writing and stood, carrying your cup to the breakroom. Martin was in there, eating his lunch. He waved politely at you.

“Oh, hello (y/n). Making yourself a cup?” You shook your head. “Nah. Wouldn’t be any good if I made it. I was just going to wash my mug.”

Martin put his lunch down. “Do you want me to make you another cup?” You shook your head and put your hands in front of you. “No,no, it’s ok! I’m fine and you're on break, so I shouldn’t bother you.”

Martin’s expression became both gentle and serious. “Why don’t you turn the kettle on? I could show you how to properly brew tea. And you could eat your lunch while we wait.”

‘Whoa, that was a bit different.’ He raised his eyebrows, as if surprised at his own commanding tone. “i-if that’s okay?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and you couldn’t help but smile. “That would be great Martin. But I’m not taking up your time, am I?” Martin shook his head. “No, you are definitely not. Besides, this is a break.”

‘Well, he’s got me there.’ Deciding that Martin had won this game, you carefully filled the kettle and turned the stove on to low heat. ‘I don’t know much, but I do know that I should be doing this.’ You heard a hum of approval behind you, and you had to stop yourself from beaming like an idiot.

You went and grabbed your lunch from the fridge. ‘White rice and baked carrots.’ Leftovers. ‘Not the most nutritious, but it’ll do.’ You grabbed your fork and sat down at the only table. Martin eyed your food as you took a bite.

“Shouldn’t you heat that up?” He gestured towards the microwave. You swallowed and shook your head.

“Nope. Cold rice is delicious and I will die on that hill.” You poked a carrot with your fork. “Cold carrots are just okay, though.” He laughed at that, and you felt yourself relax more.

“Strange hill to die on.” He finished off his drink. “But I suppose that you have to believe in something.” The conversation was put on pause as the two of you ate, the only sound being the kettle, where the water was beginning to boil. After Martin finished his sandwich, he straightened himself out. “Now, the key to good tea is not to over boil the water. You were right to put it on low heat.”

‘Oh, ok. We’re doing this now.’ You nodded, directing your attention solely onto Martin. “So, you drink black tea, which is good because it’s stronger than green tea, both with caffeine and it’s leaves. But, it’s easy to lose the flavor.” Behind him the kettle began to go off, puffs of steam rising from the spout. Martin stood and gestured to you. “Here, I’ll show you.”

You stood, barely even registering that your tupperware was empty, and followed him. He placed your mug in front of you and placed a tea bag in it. You listened, absolutely fascinated by how in detail his process was. He explained something about leaf texture and sturdiness while guiding you through the steps.

Perhaps Martin’s tea recipe was a bit much, but the end result was a lovely cup of steaming black tea in front of you, and a very pleased Marin standing beside you. So you decided that it was a perfectly fine recipe.

Tim #3

Working in research was … a lot to say the least. With so many different statements coming in, many improperly filled out with false information, it was easy to lose yourself in work. To just feel yourself losing time and energy to whatever file comes across your desk.

So you had definitely appreciated your coworkers who always managed to remind you that you were a person, not just some mindless drone. You appreciated Sasha’s gossip, Hannah’s kind reminders to take breaks, and even David’s boring idle chatter. And Tim’s… well. He certainly always managed to take your mind off of work.

‘Like now’ You whirled around in your chair, your focus dissipating as Tim held your earbuds in one hand, a truly blinding smile plastered on his face.

“Oh finally. I’ve been trying to get your attention for a bit.” He looked at his hand, music coming through the small speakers. “Are you trying to go deaf?” You sighed, admittedly a bit dramatic, and paused your music. “No. Is there something you need?”

TIm tossed the earbuds back to you. “Yep! We are on field duty today.” That made you smile. You stood up and stretched your back, your elbows and spine snapping. Tim winced, but you decidedly ignored that. ‘Thank god, we get to get out of here.’

“So, where’re we going?” Tim held out a manilla folder to you, but raised it above his head when you reached for it. “Well, what are your thoughts on surprises?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “I don’t like them if it’s work related.”

Tim smirked, fucking smirked, and leaned in rather close. “So you aren't entirely against surprises?” Heat prickled at your throat and you averted your eyes, landing right on his now lowered hand. ‘Silver lining.’

“Nope.” You smiled as you snatched the folder, internally triumphant at the somewhat shocked expression that Tim wore.You turned and opened the file, quickly skimming it.

“Great, we get to go to a very possibly haunted house.” You frowned. ‘They never tell you about this part of the job.’ Tim nodded behind you, pulling a very dramatic expression. “Yep. And we get to watch it at midnight.”

Quickly, you checked the file. Sure enough, you and Tim were on watch duty from 10-2. ‘And it’s 5 now. God, this better be worth it.’ You took a deep breath.

“Ugh, whatever. Not like I had plans.” You also took notice that you could charge any supplies to the institute. ‘Alright, Elias gets to pay for my energy drinks. Not bad.’

Tim quirked a brow at you and leaned on your desk. With one finger, he tipped the file down so you made eye contact. “You're taking this oddly well.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but why would I be bothered? It’s not like we have to go into the place. Just watch it.” Tim just looked at you. He leaned closer, resting his chin on his hands and squinted. “Nothing else that’s bothering you here?”

You shook your head. “Should something bother me?” Tim stood and shrugged. “I guess not.” He turned away from you. “You should go home and rest. Maybe change into something comfortable.”

You started clearing up your desk. “Sounds like a plan.” Tim smiled and clapped his hands together. “Alright. Meet you there then!”

You shut down the program on your computer, nodding.“Yep.” He left, smiling as he grabbed his bag from his desk, his stuff already packed up.

You finished putting your stuff away and waved to Sasha as you punched out. You walked home, once more glad that you only lived several blocks away. You were unlocking the door to your flat when it hit you.

‘I have to be in a confined area with my most boisterous coworker. In the middle of the night.’

“Shit.”

Sasha #3

Work had been easier since Gerturde disappeared. Which was a bad thing. Of course it was a bad thing. She had been missing for three months. No one knew where she went, but the department just focussed on all the incoming statements. You tried not to dwell on it.

“Hey Sasha, do you have the follow up for… uh.” You trailed off at the neat wrapping around her left hand. She looked at you and lifted an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. “Rough weekend?”

She snorted at that. “Yeah. We’ll call it that.” She spun around in her chair, her neatly styled hair swinging in its braid. “What case file were you talking about?”

You checked your clipboard. “Un, case #00127943. The one with all the exploding light bulbs.”

“Oh yeah. Here.” She grabbed one of the papers on her desk, using her one good hand. “The guy ended up moving from his flat. Couldn’t afford to keep paying for new light bulbs.”

“Huh. Hope it didn’t follow him.” Sasha whistled at that. “Yeah. That would suck. Be super creepy too.”

You shrugged. “I just don’t see why he didn’t just leave the light bulbs out.” Sashashifted in her chair, looking at you as she raised her eyebrow at you. “People need to see (y/n). You know that right?”

You smiled and laughed a little. “Flashlights Sasha. Or night goggles.”

She chuckled at that. “Oh, that would be a sight.”

“I bet!” You pulled up a chair. “Now, please explain what happened to your hand?”

Sasha cupped her hand and fiddled with the bandages. “I got a cut.”

You waited for her to continue. ‘Oh come on.’ You took a breath, processing.

“Ok, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But next time I want to go.”

Sasha snapped her head up, the rare expression of surprise plastered on her face. “What?”

It was your turn to look away. “Look, I know that you sometimes go out on your own, tracking down leads and shit.” You looked at her hand. “And I want to help, especially if it prevents you from losing a finger.”

Sasha scoffed. “I didn’t lose a finger.” She looked at her hand and then back to you. “But that’s really sweet (y/n).”

A nervous laugh bubbled from your throat and you fiddled with your shirt sleeve . “Aw, it’s nothing.”

Sasha shook her head. “Yeah, alright. Next time I’ll tell you. That way you can decide if you want to come along.”

You nodded, a small thrill of excitement stirring in your stomach. ‘I will most definitely take you up on that.’ You grabbed your file. “Alright. Thanks Sasha!”

Elias #3 (twink((derogatory)))

The filing system of this place continued to absolutely baffle you, but you were doing your damndest to try and understand it. How statements about spiders and manipulation went together was very confusing, but who cared anymore. Nope, not you. You were just going to deal with what you were given and you were going to do your best.

‘I just hope that all of that reflects on my reports.’ You fidgeted in your seat, having deja vu. ‘I really shouldn’t be worrying so much.’ You took a deep breath, but you still bounced your leg. ‘ It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong.’

Someone exited the room and your belly flipped. ‘Oh god, already?’ You honestly didn;t know why it would surprise you that the meeting in front of you had already finished. ‘Elias seems like he runs a tight ship. Which is why he’s the boss.’ You sighed and brushed your hands over non-existent wrinkles as you stood.

You pressed your hand to the door, taking another deep breath to calm your nerves. ‘It’s fine (y/n). Everyone has to do this. It isn’t nearly as big of a deal as you're making it.’ Nodding to yourself, you pushed the door in and entered.

Elias sat at his desk, a file in hand. He looked up and smiled at you, his bright eyes shining. “Ah, (y/n). Please, come in and sit.” You nodded and quickly moved towards your seat, your eyes wide and nervous.

“Now, you’ve only worked here for 4 ½ months, yes?” You nodded and swallowed. “Yes, that is correct.” He hummed as he flipped open your file. “It shows here that you have mostly been delivering files and sorting them. Now, I’ve taken a look at some of the files that you have filled out and the work there is satisfactory.” He closed the file and set it aside, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “So, is this simply an aversion to writing or is there something else?”

You swallowed again, pleading with yourself not to stutter. “Ah, I can’t exactly blame it on that, sir. It’s just…” a prickling feeling buzzed in your throat and you nearly choked trying to get the words out. “The archives are a mess, to be frank. The filing system hardly makes any sense and…” You trailed off as you noticed his eyes.

They were glowing, far too bright and beautiful. His hands rested beneath his chin now, his sharp features focussed. You wanted to shrink back from his stare. You wanted to cower. But, you took a breath, ignoring your racing thoughts. “D-did you want me to do more work with filling out the files?”

Elias quirked his eyebrows up slightly and sat back in his seat. He looked to the side and sighed. “No. You are right, the archives are a mess and they desperately need to be sorted. So, I have a proposition for you.” His shifted his gaze back to you and you sat up further.

“I want to move you down to the archives.” You widened your eyes, your thoughts screeching to a halt. “Y-you want me to work in the archives?” He pushed himself out of his chair and walked slowly around the desk, tucking his hands behind his back. Every step seemed calculated and sure. “Now, it will be somewhat different, but I could personally train you.”

You watched as he drew nearer. “W-why would you train me?” He stopped and raised an eyebrow at you. You looked away from him, heat kissing your cheeks as you looked at your lap. “I mean, wouldn’t the archivist normally be the one to train new hires?”

Elias chuckled, and continued his path towards you. “Well, I suppose.” He stopped in front of you and gently held his hand under your chin. He didn’t touch you, not even grazing your skin, but you still raised yourself to him as if guided. “But as you said, the archives are such a mess.” His smile stretched across his face and he drew his hand back. “And you have such promise.”

The heat on your cheeks grew hotter and you offered a nervous smile. “Ah, thank you.” Elias stepped back and returned to his seat. “So, you’ll take it?”

Before you could even let your thoughts spiral into a nervous mess, you shook your head and thought, ‘Ah, what the hell.’

“I’ll be happy to work in the archives.” Elias clapped his hand together and gave you a closed eye smile. “Wonderful! I can’t wait to see how you do.” He opened his eyes and waved a hand to the door. “You’re excused now, Mx. (l/n). Training begins on thursday.”

You stood and nodded. “Thank you Elias.” ‘I won’t let you down.’ You left the room quickly.

Elias sat at his desk and leaned back, staring at the door.

“I know you won’t.”

Daisy #3

Daisy glared out the window, her hands clenched in her lap. “Why are we here?” Beside her in the driver's seat, Basira sighed. “We are on lookout duty. Now hush and look out your window.” Daisy huffed and glared out her window.

“Who are we even hoping to find? We’re in the middle of a fucking park.” Daisy stared at the neat little area of grass and trees. Further on was some stupid looking play area for kids. Basira didn’t even look at her. “You are supposed to be looking across the street. And we’re looking for any suspicious activity.”

Daisy groaned as she turned away from her partner. ‘This is ridiculous. We’re detectives, not parking maids.’ Still, she watched out her window. Across the street was a farmer’s market, with plenty of stalls full of all sorts of items. Colorful baskets of berries sat on one table while the next held homemade soaps. People walked past plenty of stalls, admiring the goods set out.

‘This is stupid.’ Daisy glared at the people who were spending their Saturday mornings buying organic honey. ‘I could be tracking someone down, doing something useful.’

Then, she saw someone familiar. Turning the corner, one of the employees from the magnus institute. Specifically, one of the assistants. They walked over to one of the many fruit stalls, carefully selecting … something. Daisy couldn’t quite see it. She straightened up a little more.

Basira noticed Daisy’s focus. “See something?” Daisy didn’t look at her, too busy trying to keep track of … (y/n). Yeah, that sounded right. “Just one of the archive employees.” Basira shifted in her seat and tried to look past Daisy. “Which one?”

“(y/n). The one with all the bracelets.” Daisy wanted to curse as someone moved in front of them, obscuring her view. Basira hummed. “Anything suspicious about them?” Daisy shrugged. “Not sure. Secretive though.” Basira let out a dry chuckle. “Like that helps. That whole group has secrets.”

Daisy hummed. ‘But there’s something about this one…’ They moved closer to where Daisy was watching, now holding a bag that was spilling with something green at the top. She watched as they paid and moved to another stall. ‘They’re getting closer.’

Basira once more looked away from her spot. “Daisy.” Daisy turned her head and hummed. Basira, somewhat amused, raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you still checking them out?”

“No!” Daisy exclaimed, then took a breath, ignoring Basira’s teasing smile. “No. I’m watching them because I’m on the lookout for any suspicious activity. A-and according to our superiors, the institute is very suspicious.” She looked back out the window, watching as they crossed the street, a basket of cherries in hand.

Basira hummed. “They have a nice ass?” Daisy shrugged. “It’s fine.”

…

Basira smiled as Daisy stiffened. Some heat prickled at the base of her neck and she growled. “Let’s go. There’s clearly nothing happening around here.” She refused to meet Basira’s eyes. Basira rested her hand on her chin as she watched (y/n) walk towards the park. “You sure? Because clearly you’ve got something to keep you entertained.”

Daisy turned a searing eye towards her partner. “Let’s go.” Basira sighed and started up the car. “Alright. But if you really think that they’re important, I can ask for their file.”

Daisy firmly set her eyes forward. “I do.”

Michael Shelley #3

You sat in the library, a new book in hand. This one was about hive minds and it was absolutely fascinating. Apparently, hive minds didn’t just apply to insects and there were all sorts of subtypes of what could be defined as a hivemind. ‘This place always has such fascinating material.’

Beside you, one of the librarians pushed past you with a cart. You looked up to find Allen sorting through books, a smile plastered on his face, making his crow's feet crinkle and his mustache raise. He cleared his throat, clearly signalling that he intended to talk. You sighed and bookmarked your page. “What is it Allen?”

“Oh, please. I can’t just talk to one of my favorite patrons?” You rolled your eyes. “Please, you clearly want something. So what is it?” He laughed and shook his head. “Nothing get’s past you then, huh?” He sighed. “Well, I just wanted to ask how your date last week went.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You looked back at your book, not daring to make eye contact with him.

In all honesty, your time with Michael had been wonderful. You had chatted the evening away, talking about everything and nothing. And he had been right. The coffee was excellent.

Allen hummed and smiled, his mustache curling further. “Oh, I think you do. It’s all Sherry wanted to talk about the other day.” He looked at you coyly and put some more books away. You huffed as you once more read the same page again.

“Well, Sherry can mind her own business.” You shook your head, trying once more to just read a single word on the page. Allen walked closer, placing another book on the shelf.

“Yes, well it’s somewhat hard to do that with that Michael kid always coming down here looking for you.” That caught your attention. ‘He’s been looking for me.’ You stubbornly continued to stare at your book, forgoing the ability to read. Allen walked closer, his hands suspiciously empty of books.

“Yep, had to tell him that you normally come in on Wednesdays through fridays. Poor guy seemed real disappointed.” Allen stopped in front of the table you sat at. “Although, that could’ve been avoided if he had some other way to reach you.” You refused to look up, knowing full well that your cheeks were bright red.

Allen sighed. He cupped a large hand around his mouth and leaned forward, as if what he was saying was a secret. “Y’know, like a phone number or something.”

You sighed in defeat and met his eyes. “Thanks Allen, I got the hint.”

Allen sat up and trotted to his cart, grinning ear to ear as he pushed his cart past you. “Good. Now if I were you, I’d sit up.”

You looked at him, quirking a brow. “Why would I- oh.” Michael stood near the front desk, his eyes scanning the room. He smiled as his eyes landed on you and he began to beeline over. Allen pushed his cart away, chuckling as he watched you straighten up and move your bag away from the chair next to you.

Distortion #3

‘God this place is dusty.’ You sniffled as you set down another box of files. You sighed and stretched your back, groaning at the stiffness. ‘At least that was the last of them.’

Now you just had to go through them....

“There better be some good ones in here.” You grumbled, settling down at the lone desk. This would normally be a group activity, but Sasha was busy helping Jon figure out what exactly the department needed, Tim was out sick, and Martin was out following up on some leads. ‘Which really means that Jon’s got him on a fool’s errand, that prick.’

Gently, you took out a few files, reading their case numbers, sorting them as needed. It was stupid and tedious work that left you alone with your thoughts. Something that you had been trying to avoid.

But thanks to the power of modern technology, you didn’t really have to do that. You had come prepared for this. You selected your playlist of distracting music and popped your earbuds in. ‘Thank God that Jon is pretty lenient about how we get our work done.’

Countless files came and went before your eyes, each of them pulled from one box only to be placed in another. The contents of all of them began to bleed together, but you couldn't care less. Your head felt heavy and your eyes burned. The music in your ears was beginning to fade, your playlist coming to an end.

And only then did you hear the laughter.

“My, my, you’ve been rather busy today haven’t you?” You craned your head back, facing the monstrous form that was Michael. Its face was contorted with something akin to glee as it bent further forward, its eyes almost level with yours.

You snapped your head to the door, eyes scanning the room. Nobody else seemed to be there. “What are you doing here?” You whipped your head back, gauging its response. It only hummed with faint laughter as it moved to the left of you.

“Why, I’m just dropping by for a visit, poppet. “ It settled down on the floor, it’s mountain of hair draping itself over files. Gingerly, you reached for a file that it hadn’t touched.

“But aren’t you not supposed to be here? I mean, I’m not even supposed to think about you.” You tapped the file on the ground and placed it in the box. Michael sat up, it’s form curving from just below its chest. In a way that you assumed to be friendly, it reached a hand forward and barely tapped the top of your head.

“And you’ve been doing so good with that.” It’s voice purred and it’s smile stretched further, more and more teeth showing as if endless. It twirled a hand into the coils of its hair, as one would do when distracted. But its eyes never left you.

“But, as long as I’m here physically, there is hardly any risk.”

A bit more relaxed, you grabbed some files that were closer to it.“And why is that?” You asked as you tapped the files on the floor and placed them in the proper box. It sighed and almost threw itself to the ground and you had to stop yourself from laughing, certain that Michael would not take it well if you found it amusing. It faced you and rested itself on a twisted hand.

“Why, I create a blind spot for the eye. Right now, he can’t see either of us. But I doubt he’ll take any notice yet.” It traced a shape on the ground, carving the wooden floors. You almost wanted to touch the barely healed scar on your face. Michael ground its finger into the ground and chuckled at the splinters that formed around it’s

“But when he does, I’m sure that it’ll be absolutely maddening.”

“And why would this… eye not take any notice of your lack of presence?” The sentence felt wrong in your mouth. ‘How can Michael be undetectable when it makes itself so easily known?’ Boldly, you pushed a golden lock of hair from atop a file. Its eyes followed your hand, and you were quick to grab what you needed, even if you were very curious about what would happen if you didn’t do that.

“Because he is focussed on the archivists and the many tasks that he gives himself. And you are not something that he thinks of often.” Michael sat up, tucking its legs under itself, twisting in a way that almost resembled the way you sat. You sighed a breath that you didn’t even realize that you were holding and relaxed somewhat.

“And that’s a good thing.” You weren’t asking. You were certain that whoever this ‘eye’ was, you didn’t want his attention. And you already had your hands full with Michael. Michael narrowed its eyes at you, its lips long and drawn. Calculating.

“Yes. For now, you hardly matter.” It picked up a file and held it out to you. Gently, you took it and looked over it’s contents. ‘One of the weird ones.’ You placed it in a separate pile.

“Alright.“

It laughed, a sharp quick sound and it was once more smiling. “Hm, Most people would rebuke such a statement.” This time, you laughed, Coyly, you smiled at the entity in front of you.

“Most people also don’t talk to someone like you, either. “

Before you could blink, Michael was on its feet, golden hair swirling around its face. Quickly, a twisted hand shot out and grabbed your underarm, pulling you close to its sharpened face. Your feet dangled and warm rivulets of blood flowed off of your arm, staining the manilla folders below.

Michael pressed a finger to your nose “Something, you silly little thing.” You couldn’t turn your head away, it’s swirling eyes engulfing you, snaring you in Michael’s gaze. Then you were back on the ground, no sharp hands digging into you and you were no longer looking into a twisted face. The door was gone along with the scratches in the floor and there were no markings on your arm. It was like nothing had ever happened.

You restarted your playlist.

Gerry #3

Gerry disappeared again after that night. Which was fine. You had plenty of questions waiting for him when you saw him again.

Which was apparently now.

You were just taking yourself for a wander when you spotted the very familiar, and frankly, poorly dyed black hair guy sitting on a bench in the park. It was a somewhat gloomy day and it was getting rather late in the evening, so not too many people were around.

‘Excellent’.

You crossed the street and made your way down the path. As you neared, you noticed the bags that sat under his eyes like bruises and the tired frown that pulled at his face. For a moment, you almost considered abandoning your pursuit, but you were too close already. And you needed answers.

You stopped when you were a few feet away, and Gerry's blue-green eyes drifted to you. You took in more of his appearance. The torn jeans, the ragged black hoodie that hung off of him. You also noticed bruises on his exposed knee. ‘What do I even say to this guy?’

“Hey” Gerry held up a hand and dropped it back to his knee.

“Hey.” You stopped in front of him. He pushed himself to the left of the bench, wincing as he went. Gratefully you took a seat.

“So, I take it you have questions?” He looked you through half-lidded eyes. His already long face was drawn and gaunt. ‘Jesus Gerry.’ You sighed and set your bag down.

“Yeah, but what happened to you? Got caught stealing another book?” You meant that last part as a joke, but you nearly blanched as Gerry nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Wasn’t even a Leightner.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Waste of my fucking time.” You didn’t really know how to respond to that. And if everything that Gerry had told you the last time you saw him was true, then this had been a huge loss.

“Sorry about that.” Was all you came up with. He waved a hand at you.

“Don’t be. Wasn’t your fault.” He sighed and settled further into the bench. You folded your hands in your lap, not sure exactly what to do in this situation.

“Alright.” You pulled your bag closer. “So, would now be an okay time for questions?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Okay then,” You pulled a notebook out of your bag. Gerry eyed you as you flipped the pages.

“What, you just carry that with you in case you run into me?”

“Yes. You aren’t easy to find.” You found the page, your writing scrawled wildy all over it. “Now, let's-.”

Gerry started to giggle. It was low and quiet, yet it rang in your ears. He leaned forward and buried his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking.

You sighed and leaned forward. “I’m sorry. Did I say anything particularly funny?”

“No. It’s just.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re just very enthusiastic.” He looked at you, a small smile stretching on his face. “It’s refreshing.”

You scoffed at him. “If you say so.” You looked him over again. “Y’know, I have a first aid kit in my dorm. It’s nothing intricate, but it should help.”

Now, Gerry scoffed at you. “Save your supplies for when I’m really hurt.” That made your stomach twist. What could possibly be his definition of really hurt? He must’ve seen the look in your eye.

“Look, if you really want to repay me, I wouldn’t mind a hot meal.”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Alright. I know a place nearby. Now, let’s get started.”

Chapter Text

Jon Hc #1

He loves how reliable you are
He can count on you for anything
You’re his rock and he knows that he can always go to you for anything
Be it for work of the stresses and responsibilities that come with being the archivist
He trusts you the most.

Martin hc #1
Oh there’s lots of things he can't just pick one
He likes how silly you are, how you don’t treat him like he’s fragile, and that you like listening to his poetry
But he loves that you’re kinda feisty
How you’re a little possessive of him
Never did he think someone would love him enough to be jealous when someone else talks to him
And it makes it all the more fun when he manages to fluster you

Tim hc #1
he loves how tuned in you are
Be it to him, your environment, or even just your job, he loves how focused you become
He definitely loves when you’re focused on him though
When you just get in the mood to lay with him, it’s his favorite thing you do
When you just lay next to him, gently touching his arms and just admiring him
He loves how loves you make him feel

Sasha hc #1
She loves how she never runs out of things to tell you
She can blather on about anything and you’re always listening
Anytime and anywhere, you’re always there to listen.
And she loves it
Because who else will listen to her theories??

Elias hc #1
he loves your loyalty
He’s known lots of people, but loyalty like yours is rare to come by
How no matter what, you stick with people
It can be annoying on occasion
But in the end it works out to his favor
And the fact that it pairs with your need to please others isn’t a downside at all

Daisy hc #1
she loves that you challenge her
That if you disagree with her, you’ll let her know
Be it over personal beliefs or even just what’s on the Telly
She loves that you aren’t weak

Micheal Shelley hc #1
He loves that you tell him things
Be it big or small, you always tell him what’s on your mind
It ranges from what coffee you got today to who you think the murderer is in whatever book you’re invested in
He finds it endearing and loves that he knows so much about you

Micheal Hc #1
It certainly enjoys how human you are
It enjoys your needs, your wants, your weaknesses.
It enjoys your strength and faults as well
Perhaps it’s because some part of it still wants that
Guess you could say it just enjoys you

Gerry hc #1
he loves that you’re his partner in crime
That he can trust you to be by his side through thick and thin
And you’re just fun to be around
The jokes never seem to end when he’s with you

Chapter Text

Jon #4

So Jon hadn’t really talked to you since the whole spider incident. Hardly even looked at you. Which would be fine, normal even, but you were really getting sick of the wide eyed glaces to search for exits when you did enter the same room as him and the burning feeling of his eyes staring right by your ear.

‘I knew he was afraid of spiders,’ You watched as he scuttled into the filing room. ‘But I never thought that it was that bad.’ You chewed the inside of your lip, and the guilt you felt was undeniable. But should you really feel all that guilty? It wasn’t like you knew that this would happen, and all you had done was helped a harmless spider that he was trying to kill. But, you had also teased him a little with your tattoo.

You shook your head. ‘God, I hate this.’ Sure, you and Jon weren’t friends, but you had had some decent conversations with him and you liked working with him. His ideas were always very… different and you liked that. It felt good to get such an opposing perspective, and Jon’s way of talking was quite entertaining.

Who would have thought that you would miss that so much?

You pushed yourself up from your seat, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. Whatever it was that you were doing had been long abandoned anyway.

‘I’m fixing this. Now.’

Of course, Jon wasn’t at his desk. No, that would make this all too easy for you. ‘Think, you have to think. What would a grumpy little recluse spend his time doing here? What would he do? Certainly nothing that involves interacting with other people.’ You passed by the door to the back room, where references were kept.

‘This could work’

You pushed the door open, a creak following suite. How fitting. Quietly, you stepped forward and gently closed the door behind you. You could hear the shuffling of some papers. ‘Someone is here.’ You took a deep breath and continued into the room, rows of filing cabinets stacked around you. You heard a drawer open. ‘Row 3’

Steeling yourself, you quickly strode down the aisles, the flickering lights barely even registering in your mind. ‘I’ll just apologize. It’ll be quick and painless. No fuss needed.’

You turned the corner and stopped when you realized that it was Tim in here. He was hunched over an open drawer, his fingers combing through the numbers. You tried to back away slowly, not wanting to bother him, but Tim had already turned his head and he smiled at you.

“Ah, fancy seeing you here!” He stood up, and you could hear a few satisfying pops from his back. Accepting the inevitable, you sighed and waved as you strode over.
“Hey Tim.” Stopping before him, you took notice of the many files that were strewn around him “Uh, what’s up”

“Oh you know, just some good old reference checking.”
“Right. Sorry to bother you.” As casually as possible, you added “Oh, have you seen Jon by any chance?”

Tim smiled and nudged you with his elbow. “What, finally going to talk to him?” You looked away.
Tim looked at you, surprised “Oh, you’re actually going to talk to him.”
“Uh yeah.” You nervously picked at a thread on your sleeve.
“Huh. Didn’t think you were one for conflict.” He was back to sifting through folders again.
“Well, I did start the conflict…”

Tim rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Please, you barely did anything.” He picked up a file and handed it to you to hold.

“Yeah, but clearly he’s got a lot against spiders and I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“Whatever you say.” he nudged you with his hip. “Hey, maybe you can even put in a good word for me, y’know, with the whole ‘sticky note’ incident.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. You looked back to the file in your hands. “Maybe.”

Creeeaakk

The sound of footsteps echoed in the room. Jon, his nose buried in a manila folder, turned the corner. More files were tucked under his arm. He raised his gaze and stopped, his deeply focussed expression dissolving in seconds. His eyes darted from the files in front of you, to you, and then behind him.

“Oh, well, if you’re both here… I-i’ll just-” Jon leaned on his backfoot, fully prepared to spin around and leave. Disappointment clouded your thoughts. ‘I didn’t even get a chance’

Suddenly, Tim slammed a drawer shut. The slam of it echoed throughout the room. Jon snapped his head back. Tim just stood for a moment, as if also stunned by the sound, before looking at you and then your hand.

“Wow, would you look at that. Just the file I needed!” Tim grabbed the file out of your hands. He lurched back and started to make his way towards Jon. “Thank you sooo much (y/n). Really, you’re a lifesaver. Couldn’t have found it without you.”

He bumped Jon with his hip “I trust I can leave you two to clean up? Promise I’ll pay it back.” Jon scowled and scooted away. Tim turned on his foot and shot you a wink before ducking away from your sight. You heard the creak of the door as it closed.

It was just you and Jon.

Silence ensued.

“So…. Guess we have to clean this up -“

“I’m sorry” Jon interrupted. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were shocked.

“Excuse me?”

Jon crossed his arms and looked away from you.

“I said I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows creased together. “For what?”

He sighed.

“For,,, trying to kill that spider. You clearly wanted to put it outside and I shouldn’t have caused such a fuss.” He looked at you, “So, I’m sorry.”

You smiled gently, “thank you Jon. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for teasing you.” You took some steps forward and held out your hand. “So, wanna stop avoiding each other?”

Jon took your hand into his.

“Deal”

Martin #4

Pushing away from your desk, you sighed in relief as you stretched your arms. Thank god it was friday. TIm and Sasha wanted to go out to some nearby pub and get a couple of drinks, and you were all for it after the stressful week that had passed. So, when Martin tried to wiggle his way out of it, you grabbed his hand and put on your sweetest voice, begging him to join. After all, he deserved it after the amount of shit that Jon had served him over the past week. And now you were sitting next to him across from Tim and Sasha, all of you with drinks in hand.

“And that's how I got that information.” Tim finishes his story by taking a swig of his drink. You and Sasha laugh while Martin shakes his head and smiles. All is well and good and you take another sip of your drink.

“So Sasha, how’d that date go the other day?” Tim nudged her with his elbow. Sasha rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, don’t get me started, the guy was a total ass.” She sipped her drink. You leaned forward and grinned.

“So there was no reason for you to leave us early on Tuesday then?” Sasha looked away while Martin stifled some laughter.

“Yea Yea, well at least I got out. Suppose he was good for that.”

“What about you y/n? You got any dates planned for our near future?” Tim shot a pointed look at you, smirking. You laughed.

“Nah, don’t have time for any of that shit. Work kinda takes up most of my life y’know.” Tim hummed and nodded.

“Oh yea especially with Jon as a boss. He acts like work is the only thing in his life”

“Probably is, poor guy” Sasha added. You nodded in agreement. Tim scoffed.

“Well, he could always try to join us and have some sort of social life.” He finished his drink.

“Oh c’mon Tim, he’s probably tired.” Martin leaned forward slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you really defending him Martin?” Surely Martin would be the last to defend Jon, with all the crap he takes from him.

“W-well, yes. He does a lot.” He sips his drink. “Not that we don’t do a lot ourselves.” He added

This conversation was boring you. ‘Maybe I can steer it back to what we were talking about’

“Hey Martin, do you have any dates?” He sputtered on his drink.

“N-no I can’t say I have any planned.”

“What, no one catching your eye Martin?” Tim joked.

“Not Really , no.” He took another sip of his drink.

“Really, cause the other day I could have sworn that you were writing poetry at your desk” Sasha smiled. Martin flushed a brilliant red.

“Sasha, that’s none of your business.”

“So you aren’t denying it?” She grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

“I… hush.” He took a much longer sip of his drink. You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Martin are you holding out on us?” Tim put his hand to his chest in mock hurt. Martin looked to you. You grinned and leaned onto the table, looking at him mischievously.

“Yea Martin, who do you have a crush on.”

“This is so juvenile” He pushed his glasses up and huffed before taking another long sip of his drink.

“Is It someone we know? Is that why you’re being so dodgy?” Tim got in Martin’s face and Martin leaned back, scoffing.

“It doesn’t matter, I don't want to talk about it.”

“Alright alright, we’ll lay off.” But you Sasha and Tim all shared a knowing look.

‘It’s totally someone we know’

Tim #4

That night, you waited outside the archives, a grocery bag in hand.
‘I hope Tim likes redbull’ you thought.

It was the end of the day now and the sun was setting, which was about the time that Tim was supposed to meet you.

‘ where even is he? Am I early? Hold on let me-‘

“Boo!” Hands clamped down on your shoulders. You felt your heart leap and you shouted, dropping your bag.

You whipped around to confront a giggling Tim.

“Timothy stoker, what is wrong with you!” You knew that you were flushed with embarrassment.

“Oh c’mon! It was too good to pass up.” He chuckled some more .

“Besides, you shouldn’t be so easy to spook. I am building up your tolerance.” He puffed his chest out and winked at you. You scoffed.

“Building up my tolerance, my ass.” You huffed and picked up your bag. “Shouldn’t even waste these on you.”

“Aww, did you bring me a treat y/n? How thoughtful of you.” Looking around quickly, he leaned in closely, “I brought a treat too.”

He reached into his pocket and produced 1 very cleanly wrapped blunt.

“Tim! Put that away.” You looked around, nervous of getting caught near your place of work.

“Aw c’mon y/n, did you really think that we’d be doing work tonight?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“No. But I didn’t think we’d be smoking.” You huffed again.

“What, first time.” He chuckled, You swatted his arm.

“I’ve Smoked!” You had actually smoked quite frequently in uni. You just hadn’t had the chance to do so in awhile

“Good, then you shouldn’t cough all over me.” He laughs and whips out a pair of keys.

“Let’s roll!”

————

The van itself was fine, but the smell of too much air freshener quickly clues you in on how regular the activities that Tim had planned were . ‘At least we aren’t the only ones slacking off on the clock’

Admittedly, you were nervous. Not about the drugs, that’s fine. But being alone with Tim made you feel nervous.

You liked Tim, you really did. But he was just so confident while you weren’t and you wanted him to like you too, but you didn’t want to admit that.

‘It’s fine. He probably thinks you’re ok. You don’t smoke with people you don’t like. Tim likes you just fine.’ You soothed yourself. But there was still a small part of you that whispered that it wasn’t true, that he was just doing this to be nice, or that he was trying to get you high so he could make fun of you for it later. That made you feel almost queasy.

“You Ok over there? Looking a little pale.” You shift in your seat nervously.

“Yea, I’m good. Just more used to the tube.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. It had been awhile since you had been in a car.

“Well good thing that we’re here.” Quickly, he backed the van into an alleyway.

“So, what are we actually supposed to be watching?” You asked as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Ugh, let me check.” He pulled out a folder. “We are supposed to be watching the alley way over there for ‘oddly moving shadows’.”

“But instead we’re smoking pot.”

“Yep!” He turned and climbed over the seat, and you followed.

Taking out his lighter, TIm turned to you.

“Hey, you don’t feel pressured into this do you?” You shift where you sit, trying to be comfortable.

“No. It’s fine” And it is. You’re actually kind of excited for this.

“You sure? Cause we don’t have to do- “

“For god’s sake Tim, I would tell you if I was uncomfortable “ You smile at him. He smiles back and shrugs.

“Ok ok, I believe you.” He lights the blunt and brings it to his mouth and takes an impressively long hit before passing it to you. You bring the blunt to your lips and inhale, the slight burn in your lungs satisfying . You pass it back and he takes another and soon enough you’re both 5 hits in when it begins to hit for you.

You feel your body become heavy and your mind go numb. Tim looks at you and gives you a slow smile that makes you giggle.

“Y/n, you feeling it?” He asks. You nod, words failing. He laughs and looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his.

“Good”

You don’t stop smiling the rest of the night and neither does he.

Sasha #4

“Honestly Sasha, you’ve got to be a saint of some kind.” You kicked your feet as you sat on her desk, waiting for her to pack her bag.

“I’m really not” she claimed as she put the last file on her desk away. She does it all a bit too stiffly, but you can’t blame her at all. After all, everyone has been on edge since Gertrude was announced as missing by Elias 2 days ago. She’s been missing for 3 weeks so far.

It was admittedly odd not having the old crone about. But then again, it wasn't like this was the first time she’d left without explaining her absence. But 3 weeks was much longer than the usual 5-6 days she normally left. Something about the whole thing felt rather off , but you weren’t going to go sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. That was Sasha’s job. And you could see that it was just eating away at her.

“Hey Sash. You in a rush to get home?” She stood up and put her hand on her hip.

“Depends on what you’re going to offer.” You looked away, suddenly a little nervous for some reason.

“Well I was going to offer that we go grab a bite to eat, but if you don’t want that…”

“Hmmmm tempting. What are we going to get?” She swung her bag onto her arm.

“There’s a good Indian place a couple blocks on the way to the station. That way we aren’t going out of our way.” You added quickly. God, why were you so nervous all of a sudden?

“Oh that does sound pretty good, especially with this cold weather.” Inwardly, you cheered and fist pumped. Sasha stopped moving for a second and then turned to you with a big grin on her face.

“Aw y/n, you just asked me out.”

You hated that you flushed in embarrassment. “ So what if I did? It’s normal to want to go out with friends isn’t it?”

“Sure is.” She raised an eyebrow at you. “What's not normal is how red you are.”

“You teased me, of course I’m going to…” you trailed off , staring at her. Her and her big toothy grin that showed off the gap in her front teeth, something you always thought to be charming. “ Y’know what. I don’t want to go out anymore. See you tomorrow Sasha.” You pushed yourself off her desk and went to grab your bag.

“Aw c’mon , don’t be like that!” She giggled and grabbed your hand. “I won’t tease you again tonight. I’d love to go out for dinner tonight.”

Jesus you better not be as red as you think you are.

Eilas (Smelly) #4

Turns out work in the archives wasn’t all that different from your normal job. It was just more tedious, and you had started taking more vitamin supplements as working in a basement all day had severely depleted your vitamin d intake. But the real adjustment was your coworkers. Sure, you had seen the assistants around the institute plenty of times, but besides that they were complete strangers to you. But at least they were far friendlier than the archivist.

You sighed as you recalled how Jon had grumbled about “another burden” when you had first arrived. ‘What an ass.’

It wasn’t like it was your fault that Elias had decided to move you down here. Hell, it wasn’t even Jon’s fault, as much as you’d love to be able to blame him. It was just Elias’s decision. And looking around the archives, it was easy to see why he would. It was almost like a tornado had blown through and managed to put all the mixed up files back on the shelves. Regardless, you were trying your best to not be a liability.

That being said, you would definitely qualify today as a success. You had been able to successfully document several statements, had helped Sasha go through resources, and had even helped Martin write up a document. Sure this job was tiring, but it felt good to help.

You stood up from your desk and took note of the clock. ‘Ten more minutes on the clock… might as well go make myself some tea.’ You made your way over to the break room. Opening the door you found yourself face to face with no one else but Elias.

“Ah y/n perfect, just the person I came down here to see.”

“Oh hello Elias. How are you doing today”

“Fine fine, would you like some tea?” He waves his hand as he speaks, and you find it odd how the conversation was almost casual.

“Yes please.”

He gestures to the small table. “Please, don’t let me prevent you from your break.”
You take a seat.

“So,” he’s pouring the hot water into the cups now, “I hope that you're adjusting well to your new work environment.” He turned and placed a cup in front of you. Steam rose sweetly from the cup.

“Oh it’s been good. The work isn’t too different from what I used to do. Mostly just adjustly to the environment.”

“Such as?” He takes a seat from across you.

“Oh just the lack of natural light and getting used to the people. Nothing that I can’t handle.”

“Good.” He sips his still steaming tea.

“Well, I will have you know that I still have some training for you to do, so next week you’ll be seeing me in my office to go over file names and what kind of records to look out for. Sounds good?”

“Sounds fine to me.” You sip the tea, surprised to find the perfect amount of sugar in it.

“Right well, I’ll see you then.” He stood, taking his cup with him and left you alone in the room.

“See you then Elias.” You sip your tea again, desperately trying to ignore how excited you truly felt.

Daisy #4

It was a clear night. No clouds in the sky and the moon was barely a sliver. Perfect for her as she followed them through the streets. Around every curve, each corner, and always just far enough to not be seen. They wore casual clothes, dark clothes with a top that clung to their body and low riding pants that flared out towards the bottom . And of course, their wrists were adorned with those many bracelets

Through the crowd she weaved and followed, each step matching theirs.

Daisy had a plan. She needed to know more about that stupid institute and that archivist. She needed to have an in to it. And they were it. She didn’t know why but they were it. She felt it.

But they were hostile to her. She needed them to warm up to her. And clearly hanging around their job didn’t work.

Of course, Basira didn’t know about this. How could Daisy tell her? Was she supposed to just walk up to her and say ‘hey basira. You know that one desk jockey at the institute that I’ve been focused on? Yea, I’m going to go ahead and try to meet them outside of work. No I do not know why I am so dead set on this one, or why they interest me. No this is not legal, but when have we cared about that?’

God what was she doing.

One thing had to be certain though. This had to be strictly professional. It couldn’t go any further than simply gathering information. And if they became a threat… well Daisy was sure she could handle that.

They stopped. She stopped. They looked up at the large purple neon sign and looked back towards the entrance . They entered the building. A dive bar. Music was thrumming through the walls. Loud music. Heavy music. Of course.

Daisy waited in the alley way a bit. Until the loud electric guitar began to die down and all that could be heard was chatter. Only then did she step out of the alley and into the sidewalk, slowly approaching the building.

When she entered, there was the overwhelming stench of human sweat and the air felt heavy. People chatted and drank all around her. She scanned her surroundings, searching for them.

And there they were. Standing towards the front, a drink in hand, by themself. Excellent.

Deciding to downplay any possible chance of suspicion, Daisy opted to get herself a beer. After all, what’s more suspicious than her showing up here is if she didn’t have a drink. So, she got the house brew. Turning around, she scanned the area again while taking a sip. It tasted like vanilla piss. And they were staring right at her. Perfect.

Well she couldn’t put it off any longer. They had seen her and seen her looking at them. So, the time to move in was now.

She stalked towards them, their expression remaining neutral. Daisy stopped next to them and leaned against the wall. There they stood Toby in silence. Each sipping their respective drinks for a couple minutes.

“Why are you here?” they finally asked, still not looking at Daisy. Daisy had to give them credit for their hardheadedness. She almost admired it

“Just wanted to try a new spot.”

“Ok, but why are you talking to me?”

“Don’t know. Suppose I just saw a familiar face.”

“So that’s enough for you ?”

“Yep. You come here often?” They laughed a little at that.

“I suppose I come here often enough. I love the music and the drinks aren’t bad. Good price too.” They took a sip of their drink.

“Do you enjoy music Daisy?” They turned and faced her. Daisy was caught off guard by the casualness, she almost faltered.

“I like music as much as the next person.”

“Do you like this music?” They gestured to the stage, where the band was fiddling with their instruments and getting ready for their set.

Daisy shrugged. “Not sure what kind of music it is yet.”

They hummed in response . Then the lights began to dim as the band on stage began to prepare for their next set. They looked to the front. “Looks like you’re about to find out then.”

Daisy stared at them.

“Looks like.”

Michael shelley #4

Quietly, you sat on the floor and leaned against Micheal’s desk, listening to music as you read your book. It was a fascinating read and you wanted to talk about it. But Micheal had a strict ‘no talking’ policy about creepy stuff while he worked, which is what he was doing now. And he would most likely consider facts about wasps to be rather creepy.

Recently, Michael had been taking you into the basement of the archives. First as a one time thing, but after a couple trips, it seemed that no one cared of you showed up here as long as you don’t interrupt anything. So now, on your days off , you hung out in the archives, reading books from the library or occasionally even reading a statement when Michael got a headache and needed help.

You decided that you also did not like the head archivist. She was rude and cold to Michael . It didn’t matter if he approached her with work or the offer of tea, she only responded with quick answers and asked more of him. You didn't understand it. Michael was the kindest person you knew. He was incredibly likable. And from what you saw, a very good employee. So what was her deal?

“Hey, you want to get some lunch.” You were snapped out of your train of thought by Michael. He was looking down at you. You closed your book and stretched your arms out.

“Thought you’d never ask.” You stood and pointed to the small break room. “You want me to go grab the sandwiches?” Lately Michael had been packing homemade sandwiches for the both of you. They were usually simple, like mozzarella and chicken or tomato and pesto. But they still made you incredibly happy. And you loved every bite of them. And you contributed with some snacks, like crisps or fruit, so you felt it was even. And if that wasn’t enough, you loved your chats with Micheal over lunch. The two of you talked about anything and everything, from his love of crochet to your immense dislike of mazes.

Michael smiled at you. “Yes please.”

You grinned and almost skipped to the break room. Which was probably good that you didn't, as if you had the door would have hit you right in your face. It swung open, revealing Gertrude.

She looked up from the file she was looking at, her eyes glaring at you through her glasses as she observed you.

“Ah you’re Michael’s little… friend.” She looked you up and down and for a moment you felt self conscious of the grungy clothes you wore. But you straightened up and plastered a grin onto your face. “Yep! That’s me. And you’re the head archivist. Pleasure to actually meet you.” You nodded to her. She looked you in the eyes and said nothing.

You stood there a second and nodded. “Well. I’m just gonna get Michael’s lunch.”

You stepped to the side and she moved past you without a word.

You watched her go and quickly stepped into the break room, went to the fridge and grabbed the brown paper bag labeled ‘Michael’. Then you almost ran back to Michael’s desk.

You gave the sack lunch to Michael and sat on the floor, leaning against Michael’s chair. He looked at you and quirked his head at you.

“You okay?” He asked as he handed you your half of the sandwich. You blew out a sigh.

“That’s one scary lady.” You said, taking a bite of your sandwich. It was cheese and chicken.

Micheal laughed in response. “Oh she’s not that scary. I walk her to the train sometimes when she gets off at a reasonable hour. Or when I stay late.” He took a bite and swallowed. “Mostly when I stay late.”

“That’s sweet of you Michael but shouldn’t you not stay here so late? I mean, it can’t be safe for you to walk home either.”

He waved his hand at you. “Oh I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s common courtesy to walk others home” he smiled and took another bite.

”Yeah, I suppose. I just…” You looked around, as though searching for the right words.

”Just stay safe Michael.”

Distortion #4

You slammed your door shut as you entered your apartment. ‘What a shit day.’ You had been busy all day helping run errands for the archives. And that meant interacting with statement givers and running all over the place, which was exhausting and no one was joking around today because you were all so busy.

Good thing you could actually unwind in the way that you liked. A cranberry vodka. And maybe some straight vodka too. Just a shot or two. Maybe three.

And now you were drunk. Not like incredibly drunk. But certainly you felt all your worries melting away. You felt heavy and slow, but it was good. God it was good right now. So here you are, 3 cranberry vodkas deep and listening to music on your floor in a blanket, completely content. You were so focused on the way the music felt that you closed your eyes and let the music move through you. You let your imagination run wild with the music. You didn’t even notice the shift in the air as you laid there so lost in the music, that when your playlist ended, and you opened your eyes, you were caught off guard by the swirling hair and smiling face that greeted you.

“Hello little thing.” You didn’t bother to move and just smiled at it.

“Hey Michael” you sighed and stretched your arms above your head.

“Oh what is going on here?” It tsked as it took a single finger and slowly, ever so slightly , drew it over your throat. “Aren’t you exposed?” It laughed. You shuddered at the touch and felt hair tangle around your hands.

“Oh poppet, don’t tell me you over indulged on this.” It lifted up the bottle of vodka near you. You laughed. “I wouldn’t say overindulge” Michael’s laugh ripped through the room.

“You really aren’t afraid right now.” It cried. The colors around the room warped at it grinned its many teeth at you.

“I guess I’m not.” You rolled yourself around to look at it. It chuckled at your sluggish movements. Its finger slipped and it put a small tear in your shirt collar.

“How foolish of you.” You gingerly pushed Michael’s finger away, and examined the tear. Damn you liked this shirt. Distracted, you didn’t think about the next words out of your mouth.

“What can I say, I’m a fool for pretty things like you.” Michaels smile drooped.

“What did you just say?” It leaned closer over you.

“I enjoy beautiful things Michael.” You pushed yourself up and looked at it in its gorgeous eyes. Your hand was still tangled in its hair, which felt unreasonably downy. You moved your fingers through the hair, enjoying the odd sensation

It pushed you roughly back to the floor. You closed your eyes, your head suddenly swimming with music and laughter.

And when you opened your eyes, Michael was gone. The air was still strange though and your front door had mysteriously turned a mustard yellow. You sat up and stared intently at it, a small nervous grin plastered on your face. “Oh c’mon Michael I didn’t mean to scare you off or nothing.”

“You didn’t scare me poppet.” Sharp long fingers curled around your body and you were pulled back into its grasp. You damn near screamed. It chuckled lightly as the room spun around you.

“Oh I will admit that you did catch me off guard, you silly little thing.” It sang in your ear and fingered at the tear in your collar. You hummed in response.

“You’re far more touchy.” You noted. It nodded. “Do you mind?” The tear became larger as it played with the stitching.

“Would it matter even if I did?” You gently guided its finger away. It laughed and gripped your face, making you look in its beautiful eyes. The air crackled and Michael practically purred as it smiled at you.

“You really are a silly little thing.” It tapped you on the nose with a single finger. You sighed and relaxed in its grasp. You could feel the warmth in the air begin to fizzle out and you felt your stomach start to burn.

“Michael,” you started. It quirked its head at you. “Pass me the bottle.”

Gerry #4

You laid on your bed, tossing a ball in the air. Gerry sat next to you, writing in a journal. You caught the ball and turned on your side, hanging an arm off your bed.
“Okay. So about the slaughter and the flesh .”

“Yes, what about them?” He continued to write.

You turned back on onto your bed and continued to toss the ball in the air. “I mean, they’re pretty similar, how do you tell the difference?”

“Slaughter tends to be angrier while the flesh is more passive.” He pointed the pencil in your direction . “That’s not to say that the flesh is passive though.”

”Are any of them passive?” You tossed the ball again and caught it.

”I guess the end would be the most passive since there’s no real way to prevent it.”

“That makes sense.” You tossed the ball higher. “So these avatars…”

He looked up from the notebook.“What about them.”

You caught the ball and held it to your chest, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “It’s just… how is this not more well known? You said we have people who look like they’re getting eaten alive by bugs for god's sake?”

“Yea the nests. Nasty one.” He closed the journal and turned to you. “Look. Sometimes people see things they don’t want to see, and they don’t know who to tell. So they keep it to themselves. After all, who would believe them?”

You sighed and turned to face him. “Yea I guess.” You rested your head on your arms and stared at him . He stared back and raised his eyebrows at you.

“What are you looking at?” You stared in silence for a few moments more before turning onto your back and tossing the ball in the air again.

“Just wondering how you dye your hair.” You pointed to his roots with your free hand . “Cause it looks god awful.”

“Oh, think you could do better?” He leaned back onto his hands and looked at you.

“Absolutely. Want me to dye It for you?” You stopped tossing the ball and sat up, criss crossing your legs. He looked at you with those brilliant blue eyes and raised his eyebrow again.

“Do you have dye?”

“No but we can get some. Besides, it looks like you cracked sharpies into your hair.” You reached forward and twisted some of his hair around your fingers, almost wincing at the brittleness. He smacked your hand away, smiling.

“Rude.”

“But true.” You quipped back. You stretched your arms behind your back and smiled at him.

“What brand do you even use? Splat?” You teased. Gerry rolled his eyes.

“Okay so it isn’t the best look, but it does the job fine.” He held his hands out in front of him. You stared at him in dismay.

“Oh my god Gerry.”

So now the two of you were in your dorm room bathroom, Gerry on the floor while you stood and appliedVaseline around Gerry's forehead. Gerry held your iPod in his hands.

“What do you even listen to in this thing?”

“Music Gerry, I listen to music.”

“Well, you have three cheers for sweet revenge so we’re playing that.”

“Of course we are.” You brushed on some decent black dye on the blonde roots that peeked through.

“You know, never thought to ask, but what are you studying?” Gerry shifted a little bit.

“History actually. I want to work for museums.” You moved with him and continued your work.

“Ah, that explains the abundance of curiosity then.” He shifted again. “Why don’t you have a roommate?”

“Used to, but they got homesick and left.” You dabbed more dye. “Hey, turn towards me. I gotta get to the front.” Gerry twisted around and you were eye level as you applied more dye. You took the opportunity to admire his face.

“You know Gerry, I think that after this we should do eyeliner.”

“Yea?”

“Yea, I think you’ll look fantastic in full goth makeup.”

“Alright well, let’s do this first.”

You continued to work, music playing in the background. But you couldn’t stop yourself from asking one more question.

“Hey Gerry.”

“Yes?”

“We’re friends right?” Gerry pulled back and you almost dabbed dye onto his face.

“Are you serious? We’ve been hanging around each other for 2 weeks. You’re dying my hair right now and you’re going to do my makeup.Pretty sure that we’re friends.” You smiled at you and for a moment you were dazzled.

“Yea. Yea Gerry you make a good point.”