#past is catching up to me i'm looking at you
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crsssie · 1 day ago
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sharpshooter - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader
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there's a rumor in the FBI about the BAU. No, not the rumor about their genius with an IQ of 187. No, not their rumor about the technical analyst who can get anything and everything with a swipe of her mouse. No, not even about the communications liason who was called in by the pentagon. no, no.
there's a rumor that the BAU hosts a sharpshooter. A sniper known even in the military for the strange grasp they have on everything mathematical and all things physics — a sharpshooter who has a minimal kill count because they had only ever disarmed with the rifle and not kill. A strange one, that sharpshooter.
Some of the new recruits peer past the glass when touring the building to see if they can catch a glimpse of just who this sharpshooter is (they fail).
"Did you know the word rumor virtually didn't change at all? The old latin word was spelled the same as it is current day other than the word rumorem, and then it went a different change in old french where it was rumur, but then it ended up back as rumor." Spencer hums. "The original meaning of rumor in latin was just noise."
"Huh." You click on your desktop, fingers clicking on the keyboard. "What about gossip?"
"Oh, that one started as godsibb which was like godparents or godsiblings, and then in middle english it changed to a familiar acquaintance, a friend, neighbor, and then by the 1560s it became anyone engaging in familiar or idle talk. Our modern meaning was more in the 1620s about talking idly about the the affairs of others."
"Fun." You stretch your arms over your head, glancing out the glass to catch a batch of new recruits. "Makes me think about superstitions."
"Oh, that one's super fun. It's formed from the words—"
"Reid, Snippy. New case." Morgan winks, passing by as you huff.
"I said not to call me that!"
"I'm sure you prefer it to your other nickname."
"I prefer no nickname." You huff, tossing a crumpled paper in your hand as Morgan leaves.
You throw the paper to hit him square in the back of his head as you pass him with Spencer.
"Hey!"
You only stick your tongue out when he rolls his eyes.
one agent in the academy catches the way you hit morgan square on the back of his head, and suddenly, there's a physical descriptor for just who you are. not that you seem to notice or care.
However, doctor reid looks back at the agent, and the young one seems to understand that look. keep you off everyone's radar. stay quiet of who you are.
they find it sweet of him, regrouping with the others as they notice they've been left behind.
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zepskies · 2 days ago
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@lamentationsofalonelypotato
LOL jumping right back into the ocean of feels! 😬
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I won't get my hopes up. I will be just as devastated now as when I find out that he is gone for good. 😭
Aww stay strong, my friend!! 💪🏽
Also I love that you said her mother refused to "entertain anything else" because Dean's job description is literally "anything else" lol. And it really is a wonderful thing (not wonderful like good but you know what I mean) that Dean and the reader can further connect on. Her knowing what Dean really did for a living and him being brave enough to risk his life on the possibility of "a chance."
Lol quite literally "anything else." 😆 Yeah the reader formed a connection with John through reading his journal entries, and now she can better understand Dean and connect with him too. 💞💞
I think Dean would've risked his life to gank the evil thing regardless, but definitely willing to do it for her, even if he finds her dad or not. 💔
It's too late for that kind of talk sexy mountain man. You're stuck with her and she is not going to let you go that easy.
LMAO this took me out. It's very much too late for that -- she's not letting him go for anything now. 😝
Am I trying to hide my emotions over Dean going into the wilderness alone to face a wendigo with humor? Yes, yes I am.
ehehehe 😜
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It's a whole vibe 🍞 Side note: I did have to look up what nesting was in the A/B/O universe, but that is so cute. 😭
Ahaha I love GBBO so it got a special mention. (Also me going, how the hell is she gonna pass time for a full week? 😂)
Aww yes, nesting is so cute isn't it? Even if she had nested in Dean's room, compelled by her anxiety, I think it would've melted his surly heart loll.
Oh goodness, yes it was a bad idea and I am so happy that Dean showed up when he did, because my anxiety for this reader was THROUGH THE ROOF. I mean yes, go get your man, but gurl please it's snowing and you've got a broken ankle. At least catch a bear or something to pull you on a sleigh lol. 🤣
SUCH a bad idea loll. I had to have Dean intervene there. Exactly like, go get your man, but not on a broken ankle, hun. 🤣 "Catch a bear" -- I'm deceased. I think she's pretty much done with bears from now on! LOL 🐻
See this is why I don't get my hopes up because OH MY SWEET GOODNESS I'M CRYING 😭 But at least Dean is there now to wipe away her tears. AND my tears will soon be dried with the fires of their passion so... LOL 😂
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bby we're all crying, but like you said, at least Dean's there to pick you up (and warm you up). 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
See I feel better already 🥰
Oh good! lol that's what I was hoping for.~~
This is such a wonderful comparison to what it's like being around him for the reader. It holds the warmth and the feeling of home whenever you read it. I love it.
Honestly that description reminded me of the way you write the reader in Take a Chance, giving very human and specific details to her background and whenever she talked to Ben about her past -- so I'm very glad you enjoyed that part. 💕
And also you know how much I love the continuing idea of Dean thinking that he's not enough and that the reader would never like him. I know that I always point it out when I read something of yours, but it really always fits him and you write it so well my friend 💚
Aw thank you so much!! It seems I always come back to that in my Dean fics! I think subconsciously I'm trying to beat that mentality out of him with every story. 🤣 But also, I think his self-worth (or lack thereof) and his fear of being a danger to the people he loves are just key points of his character that you kind of have to deal with -- at least in the canon SPN world, whenever Dean gets close to being in a serious relationship with someone. 🥲❤️‍🩹
I also love this bit, because Dean reduces himself to physical wealth here rather than seeing all the wonderful qualities of himself that we all love being something that he can give the reader. It really makes their connection all the more loving and real, because the reader isn't asking for Dean to give her things or to be rich, she's just asking FOR Dean. And I think it will be a beautiful and wonderful thing when he realizes that.
In Dean's pov it's like, "I don't have a 'normal' house, I don't have a normal job, all I've got is my car and emotional baggage that I don't want to unload on someone else--especially someone outside of the Job." But she doesn't need him to have "normal" things. He literally saved her life and is meant to be hers. To her, the quality of who he is and the connection of being true mates is more important, and the rest they'll figure out together. 💞 Here's hoping Dean can realize that soon...
This chapter was so wonderful Alex! I loved every heart wrenching bit and I can't wait to read the next one my wonderful friend! ❤️
Aw thank you so much, my friend!! 🥰 I'm so happy that you're enjoying the mini rollercoaster of this story, and I truly hope you enjoy the grand finale too!! 💖💖
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Against the Wind - Part 3
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Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 
Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.
AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo
Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger
Word Count: 3.8K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~
Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
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Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn
“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”
“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”
You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.
“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.
He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”
“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”
“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”
You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.
“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.
“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 
You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.
“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.
“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”
“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”
You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”
You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.
“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.
“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”
Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?
“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”
“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.
He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.
Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.
“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.
A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.
You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.
Not for himself, but for you.
“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.
“What? What is it?!” you yell.
He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”
He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.
Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.
You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?
Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.
No matter what direction you take, you never find him.
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“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.
Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.
“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 
You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.
“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 
A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 
When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 
“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”
Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.
“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”
He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 
Wendigo. 
“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”
You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.
“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.
“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”
You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.
“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.
You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.
“Where did it happen?”
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Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.
“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”
“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.
“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 
Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.
“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”
By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.
“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.
Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.
“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.
“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.
Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?
“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”
His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.
“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.
At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.
“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.
Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.
“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”
You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 
Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 
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After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.
For when he gets back. 
You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.
Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 
On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)
On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.
With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.
“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.
You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 
But you’ll have to try. 
After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.
Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 
A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 
“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.
You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 
You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.
“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.
“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 
You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.
He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 
“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”
Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 
“I thought something happened to you,” you say.
Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 
“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”
Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”
His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”
You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.
“Did you find my dad?” you ask.
Dean’s expression sobers as well.
“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”
Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 
Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”
He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 
After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 
You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.
He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…
He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 
It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.
You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  
But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 
“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.
He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 
“Why?” is all you can ask.
He doesn’t want to answer. 
“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.
“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.
That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.
“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”
You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.
“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”
Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 
“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”
You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”
“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”
You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.
“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  
“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.
“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”
You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 
“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”
You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 
“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.
Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 
You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 
“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 
Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 
He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.
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AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘
Next Time:
“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.
You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.
“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.
“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.
Your lips curve upwards in return.
▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)
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Lonely Nights
Two uploads in one day? I'm cooking. Also inspired by @/shurisneakers grumpy x grumpy works, go check her works out they're amazing
Summary: Attending a party with the man whose whole goal in life seems to be annoying you to no end goes...not exactly as planned
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You've lost count of the number of parties Natasha has dragged you to attend. You're pretty sure this is at least the tenth one in the past month, which is ten times more than the number of parties you usually attend. Then again zero times ten is still zero so you're not sure how the math adds up.
Grabbing another glass of whiskey, you stare at the golden liquid swirling around, trying to drown out the noise in the background. Parties really are far too loud for your taste, the only good thing to come out of them is the free flow alcohol that you constantly take advantage of. The drinks taste even better knowing that the tab is on a certain genius playboy billionaire and so at every party you lurk at the bar, inhaling drinks until you get hungover.
Tonight, there's a newcomer — Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier. Turns out he's Steve's best friend who was thought dead and you have to admit, the brunette is quite the handsome man, although you'd rather die than admit it out loud. He's currently following Sam who seems to be on a mission to talk to a girl for more than a minute, and from the look on his face, quite enjoying the other's multiple failures.
You take another mouth of whiskey and look away, relishing in the way the liquid burns on the way down. Natasha has disappeared, probably to outdrink yet another poor soul, leaving you all alone at the bar counter, not that you mind. You quite like the personal space and lack of need to socialise with another human being, two things that are currently being challenged by a certain brunette you were watching not too long ago.
"Go away."
"I see you've been learning some manners." He leans over to take a glass of whiskey for himself, downing half of it in one go.
"And I see you haven't." You glare at him.
"Maybe you should introduce me to your teacher, I might just learn some manners then." He simply smiles at you.
"Hmph." You turn back to your glass. "So what are you doing here?"
"Was invited to the party by Tony." He swirls his glass before downing the remaining half. "Same as you."
"I can tell. Why are you sitting right next to me after I told you to get lost?"
"I believe you said 'go away', not 'get lost'."
"Same thing." You pinch the bridge of your nose. He was getting on your nerves as always, you sometimes swore he saved all his cheek for you and you alone.
"Nope it isn't. One is asking me to simply leave, the other is asking me to lose all sense of direction —"
"Okay Mr Dictionary, didn't ask you for the difference between 'away' and 'lost'. Why are you still seated next to me?" You grab another glass from a passing waiter and immediately inhale one third of it.
"I'm tired and want to sit down." Bucky shrugs.
"There's plenty of other seats out there." You gesture to where the crowd is.
"Here seemed the most comfy, although the company it offers could use some work." He smirks, biting back an amused huff when you roll your eyes.
"Then go and find company elsewhere."
"But you'll be lonely. As a gentleman, I cannot stand by and let a lovely person such as yourself spend the night alone." He dramatically places a hand over his heart.
"Since when were you a gentleman?" You snort, knocking back more alcohol. You were going to need more if this bastard insisted on spending the rest of the night with you.
"Since the moment I saw you sitting here alone."
"How chivalrous. You want a lordship or something?"
He laughs, reaching over the counter and pulling out a bottle of vodka. "If only you could grant me one."
"Dunno. Could try pulling some strings or something, haven't tried granting anyone a lordship before. First time for everything, am I right?" You toss a bottle opener his way and he catches it, raising an eyebrow.
"Do you have this on you at all times?"
"Swiped it from the waiter just now. Was going to open one myself but since you've already taken one you might as well share. Sharing is caring, right?" You wave a hand.
"Then sharing this bottle would imply I care for you." He pops the cap open and starts chugging.
"Hey! I provided the bottle opener! I deserve some!" You yelp, rising from your seat. He easily dodges your attempts to grab the bottle from him and grins, waving it just out of your reach. Growling, you leap onto the counter and dash along it, successfully swiping the bottle from his surprisingly loose grip. Hopping back down, you gleefully wave the bottle before chugging the remaining liquid inside, letting out a satisfied sigh when not a drop is left.
"I win!" You cheer, laughing. All that alcohol is making you giddy and you lean a little too far backwards, stumbling towards the counter but before you can hit anything, a pair of arms wrap themselves around you, stopping your fall.
"Can't have you dying before granting me that lordship." Bucky grunts, placing you back onto your seat. You try to shove his arms off, making a face when he refuses to let go before resuming your scowl and crossing your arms.
"I'm not dying before you," you huff, annoyed. More importantly, you weren't about to die from a fall when you've survived aliens, gods, superhumans and everything in between.
"Congratulations on surviving purely out of spite all this while. Would you also like a gold medal?" Sarcasm drips heavily from his words.
"I'll take one." You don't miss a beat, even when tipsy. Bucky would admire that, really he would, unfortunately he's on the receiving end of your sass so it's already less admirable because of that. At least him being here means you won't be meeting your end via counters, he would miss all that wit and sarcasm if that were to happen. After laughing at your cause of death.
"Unfortunately I don't have one right now. Mind waiting for a bit, doll?" His lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.
"A gentleman making someone wait? What kind of gentleman are you?" You lift another snagged bottle to your lips, taking a swig.
"One that knows you're caring enough to share that bottle with me." He easily wrestles the half-drunk bottle from you, chugging the rest while keeping you at arms length with his forearm pressed against your chest. "Thank you for your generosity."
"You're not welcome!" You huff, futilely hitting his arm in an attempt to close the gap. He grins, turning the bottle upside down to show you there's not a drop left.
"Asshole." You scowl, gripping his arm tightly.
"My pleasure." His smirk is infuriating and with the alcohol clouding your mind, the moment he drops his arm you close the distance, wiping the smirk off his face with a kiss. Your lips connect and his eyes widen, but he kisses back, his metal arm snaking around your waist while his flesh one pulls you closer so that he can devour you.
Bucky's lips taste of vodka, whiskey and whatever else he drank before being your nuisance and it tastes good. You breathlessly pull away, cheeks flushed and grab a breath before diving back for another round.
"You're a pathetic kisser," you gasp after pulling away for air again.
"And still you want more." He licks his lips, ice blue eyes shining with mirth. "What does that say about you?"
"That I'm going to need to teach you how to kiss."
"Then teach me." He lifts your chin up. "The night's still young."
"Step one: shut up." Your lips crash into his again and he shuts up, savouring the kiss.
"Step two: don't stop." He murmurs, threading his fingers through your hair.
"Step three: eyes on me, only me." You press your forehead against his, feeling his warmth. "Took you forever to kiss me."
"You're the one who took forever, I was always open to it."
"Asshole."
"Idiot."
"You just asked an idiot to be your teacher."
"I don't mind this idiot being my teacher." His thumb runs over your bottom lip. "After all, this idiot is my idiot."
"Hate you."
"Love you too."
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juviabrainrot · 3 days ago
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LET'S GO TO THE FAIR !
PAIRINGS ... d.kaminari, h.sero, e.kirishima x fem!reader
a/n: it's fair season! (at least where i live) and i got the idea to do this. also we're not gonna talk about my tiktok ban crashout but that shit was literally 14 hours i am so dramatic idc. this also isn't proof read (again!!! are we surprised) ALSO ignore how sero's is probably longer than the rest of them bc idk he's bae and needs that extra little ramble
requests are open!
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d. kaminari
ik damn well this man is trying to do all the fair games and loses at nearly all of them
and yes, he did win one game at the very least! (it was the one where you have to squirt water into the whole)
for his prize, he got a minion plushie and was mad because when you guys had previously passed, there was a pikachu plushie but it was gone by the time you came back
he only wanted it so he could give it to you since it was "basically his twin", but it's ok because minions are TOTALLY better!! (imo, fight me idc)
you both decided to go on the zipper and halfway through the line, he started getting scared because of the plethora of screams
with lots of reassurance, you two got on there and it was... something!
he screamed like a baby and started crying for his mom at one point
"I'm too young and handsome for my death to happen like this!"
after, he acted nonchalant and like he wasn't just bawling his eyes out
for some reason, he really wanted to go on zero gravity and pretended to climb the walls to take a pic and send it to sero
"wait catch my good side I want to look mysterious"
h. sero
definitely snuck his penjamin in
his plan was to go to the fair 2 days: - day 1: get high af and eat literally every food, play games, and go to the petting zoo - day 2: ride all the rides
literally the first thing he did was go to the corn dog stand and tore up an XL corn dog
next, he attacked a turkey leg and got the juices all over his mouth
did he know? no. did you let him walk around with them decorating his mouth for a while? yes
he was starting to get a little stuffed so he got himself a fresh squeezed lemonade to share and you both walked around the fair grounds
you walked past the basketball stand and he was convinced that he could shoot the hoop with perfection, but ended up bashing the ball into the front of the hoop and it came back and hit him
he gave up and pouted a little so he decided he wanted to pet some goats in the petting zoo
was about to cry when he saw the miniature ponies because he wanted to take one home
made sure no one was around, whipped out his pen and asked the horse if he wanted a hit
before you were about to leave, he decided he wanted to split a funnel cake with you but could only eat four bites before he gave up and left the rest to you
on day two, he bought the unlimited pass for you both and wanted to go crazy on all the rides
the first ride you went on was the thunderbolt and you accidentally crushed him because of how fast it was going + literal air force
forced you to go on the pendulum ride 4 times and the fireball 3 times
went into the fun house and pretended to be a hamster on a hamster wheel in the spinning tunnel, and accidentally kicked a kid that was trying to get in
e. kirishima
like denki, he was also trying to do all the carnival games, but there's one difference - he was actually getting prizes
his favorite game was the hammer and bell one since it showed off how strong he was
started winning so many prizes for you that you had to give some to little kids because you physically couldn't hold them all
you both walked through all the crazy popup shops and got weird/cringe matching shirts ( I am so sexy that even life gets hard / I am life)
he also ate a chicken leg and held his face out with a smile for you to wipe it clean
held your hand the whole time as you walked around and you became one of those cringe couples in the lines even after you swore you wouldn't
he wanted to go on quite literally every ride, even the kiddie rides
his favorite ride was definitely the fireball and rode it 5 times
took loads of pics in the photo booth and put one of the strips in the back of his phone case
ended the night with a romantic ride on the ferris wheel and took tons of pictures to post, some of them you didn't even know he took
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©juviabrainrot - please do not copy/repost any of my work on any platform <3
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marscantread7 · 3 days ago
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Sylus x Plus Size Reader/mc
Slight nsfw mention so mdni please!!!
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I'm a bit on the heavier side, like. Very plus size, and it's been on my mind for the past few days, like. Sylus w/ a plus size mc, and I'm not talking like average, what the media's idea of plus size is, I'm talkin like actual plus size.
Kinda a self insert, but thinking of mc just like poking and prodding at her skin bc it's just ugh! Like, this shirt just isn't looking right on her... maybe she should just go w/ the hoodie or wear a jacket over it like she originally planned, but here comes Sylus and he's all like, "🤨what r u doing?" And mc turns around and she's like, "this shirt just doesn't look right! Or feel right! None of this would be happening if I was smaller!" And Sylus just shuts it down real quick bc, "Sweetie. Ur perfect the way u r. U look absolutely stunning right now." And mc is very skeptical at first, bc she's literally just in typical lounge wear, but Sylus catches her gaze and decides to show her just how beautiful she is.
Omfg and like, thinking of how strong Sylus is. Like, okay another self insert😛 I'm 5'7 which isn't short, but it isn't necessarily tall either. So like, mc trying to like reach something on the highest shelf, and instead of just grabbing it for her, Sylus will lift her up so she can reach it. Just imagine her gripping onto his shoulders and looking down at him like, "Omg! Put me down, I'm too big!" And Sylus just giving her that look to try that again. "Sweetie, that means nothing to me. I'd be an inadequate partner if I couldn't support u in every way hm?" And just to spite her, he carries her away. Mmmmffffffggghhhh Sylus just randomly picking mc up at random bc he just loves holding her and🤤 Sylus holding her up and just fucking her. Like he doesn't even need to hold her against the wall! He can just pick her up and just go to town, no support.
And honestly another self insert, but I personally hate when I get insecure abt my weight and I'm ranting abt it and people get offended like "Ur not fat Marshall." Like that's such an insulting thing. Like, half the time I don't even mean it in a negative way when I point out my weight, I'm just stating an obvious fact. Like I'm big, that's a fact, u getting offended and acting like it's a bad thing that I'm big just makes me feel worse abt myself, hope this helps🙏🏾
Anyways, thinking abt mc like, criticizing her weight one day. Like, "I just don't see what u see in me. Like I'm not saying I'm ugly, but doesn't my weight make me a bit... unappealing?" And Sylus, oh the loverboy he is... "How dare u! Kitten, ur the sexiest person I've ever laid my eyes on." And he goes on this whole spiel abt how weight means nothing to him bc like??? Why should it? Like, genuinely what's so unappealing abt a little extra weight? If anything, he likes her size personally, and boy does he make it obvious. Always pinching those chubby lil cheeks, squeezing her thighs, resting his head on her stomach after a long day. And don't get him started on that ass😛😛😛 the way it bounces as he's fucking mc from behind. The recoil when he gives it a light smack, signaling her to "stay still baby, I'm gonna cum too soon if u move like that." BOY... like wow! Yeah #needthatNEOW
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Anyways that's all. Sorry for like the poor grammar and not spelling words out all the way😭😭😭 I didn't intend for this to be as long as it is. I would have written it properly if I knew I was gonna be doin allat. But anyways yeah. This was just one giant thought I had bc it's like ugh! I just know Sylus would treat a big girl so well and squish down and anxieties and doubts she has abt herself and his thoughts on her. Like yeah... this was literally just written for myself😭😭😭
Also ik I use mc, but u can read it as like a y/n or reader type of thing. I just didn't feel like using "you" atm😪😪😪
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dooberific · 2 days ago
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Hello~! I love reading your work so much hehe, I'm not entirely sure if you are open for requests so please disregard if you aren't. Can I request Harumasa and reader that they first met in the hospital as kids due to having the same disease and once they were discharged they simply forgot about eachother. Then one day, they met again (pure coincidence) and had a happy reunion. Maybe throw a childhood friends to lovers, fluff hehe. Thank you!
Subjecting reader to Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome is a more popular thought than I anticipated.
Still working on other requests as I have time, it took me way too long to do this but in my defense I’m back in the dregs of Uni.
❝ 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 ❞
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harumasa x afab!reader
genre: slice of life ig?? Reads pretty platonically imo, runs vaguely parallel to his agent story largely without reader interference (we keep it as canon as we can). Reader has ether aptitude regression syndrome.
summary: He didn't think ghosts from the past were so bright or so loud as the one that finds him at Port Elpis.
wc: 4.8k
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Port Elpis was a lonely place. 
But that was just his opinion on the matter. 
Maybe in the eyes of the children that sat joyfully chattering next to their grandfather as they fished off the pier it would be a place full of happy memories, or the perfect backdrop for a romantic encounter for the lovers who walked wistfully along the seaside. 
But he had neither a family nor a lover to enjoy such memories with, and with his frail body perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. “To live with no regrets” felt like an honorable way to go. There would be no one deeply hurt by his loss, no one to leave flowers at his grave, and just as briefly as his time was slated to be on the earth the memory of his existence would fade into nothingness. 
So he would quietly enjoy his solitude, savor the time like it was sweet on his tongue, and pretend for just a moment that life wasn’t as abbreviated as fate demanded it to be by capturing it through the immortal lens of his camera. 
The birds that floated in the sea breeze. Patterns of stone left in the sand by a previous visitor. The view from the top of the lighthouse. Colorful boats bobbing in the sea. The lights over the water at night. 
The scenery rarely changed but that didn’t matter, it was an excuse to feel the warm kiss of the sun on his skin and feel the whisper of the sea air tickle his weakened lungs, to pretend that once he returned to the quiet of his apartment that every image he took wouldn’t be doused in a deep greytone as if some secret melancholy bared its teeth and drained his day of its vitality. 
He still got the images developed but he stopped looking at them. They felt too much like having one foot in the grave, the hazy discoloration something he associated more with the burning dread that buzzed in his veins and prickled at his eyes when the ether became too overwhelming. He could save himself the money and the effort, stop taking photos he would never want to look at again, but it was never so peaceful for his troubled mind in any other place.
The sky was overcast, heavy clouds threatening to rain their contents down upon the world as the wind nipped viciously at his skin. The normal residents of the Port were nowhere to be seen, all the buildings neatly closed in the anticipation of inclement weather. 
He could have taken it as a sign to make himself scarce as well, return home and curl up on his couch while the weather passed and not risk catching a cold, but if his day was meant to be spent in dreary solitude he would rather take the moment to feel it against his skin than hide away with no company other than his own thoughts. 
Being soaked to the bone and riding the high of his careless actions would be a better fate than sitting with his thoughts that seemed more heavily laden with dread as the days passed. 
So he stayed. 
He stayed as his hair matted to his skin, heavy with rainwater that soaked through his clothes and stained his camera lens. His camera would be ruined for sure, it wasn’t waterproof after all, but he could buy a new one. He wasn’t good at saving money for a long time anyways.
The pictures would be terrible and blurry, all doused in their own dreary grey even as he continued to take photos. There was no warmth to be found in the once pleasant landscape, and he was prepared to give up all hope for salvaging his mood which was now as waterlogged as his sneakers before a vibrant color flashed to life across his streaked lens.
He lowered his camera, squinting into the onslaught of rain that rolled the waves viciously against the pier. It was an unfamiliar boat bobbing on the waves, outriggers neatly folded to attention. The vessel itself lacked any colorful ornamentation, the flash of color he had seen belonging instead to the figure that worked diligently on the deck. 
A bright orange pair of overalls.
He wasn’t expecting to see the boat again the next time he returned to the Port, but there sat the trawler at the end of the pier accompanied by orange overalls. He could put a face to the choice of colorful outerwear now, or the beginnings of one from where he stood. He had no reason to get closer, he wasn’t on particularly warm terms with anyone at the Port, so it took him by surprise when your face appeared so suddenly within the viewfinder one day. 
“Excuse me?” 
He startled, quickly dropping his camera from where he held it. 
Orange overalls.
“Have we met before?”
The question was innocent as it rolled from your lips, the rubbery exterior of your overalls squeaking as you shifted on your feet. Your gaze was intense but non threatening, more brimming with curiosity than anything as you studied his features closely.
“Sorry if it’s sudden,” your laugh was awkward. “I’ve just seen you around here a lot and couldn’t shake the feeling.” 
There was no need for you to apologize, he had also been struck with an uncanny sense of recognition the longer he looked at you as well.
“I get that a lot.”
 Your question was genuine but he couldn’t help the lie that pushed past his teeth. It was rare for him to be mistaken for someone else, especially when he was in the city. If you detected his deception you didn’t show it, clicking your tongue thoughtfully as you pointed at him.
“Middle school?”
Oh, so you were still convinced you had met before.
He shook his head. “No.”
“University?”
“Nope.”
“The grocery store?”
“You remember everyone you see at a grocery store?”
Your brow furrowed. “Guess not.” 
He was confounding you at every turn it seemed, but the nagging feeling of familiarity had yet to leave. You had grown quiet, gnawing your lip thoughtfully.
Your fingers snapped suddenly. “I’ve got it, were you… in the hospital for a while as a kid?”
“I was.”
Before you answered a distant call floated over the waves. He couldn’t make out the words but your head quickly whipped around, arm raising above your head with a dramatic wave.
“I’m coming!” You yelled back before shooting him an apologetic grin. “Sorry for bothering you, I guess I’ll see you around.”
He watched your figure recede down the pier, the thumping of your boots on the wood fading as you rapidly went out of earshot. 
Your next interactions were cyclic, short conversations with speedy exits as you would run back to your boat. He had some inclination to believe you had a homing beacon centered on him, as you managed to find him despite his frequent location changes, beaming at him with the same warm expression that nearly rivaled the brightness of your orange overalls.
You never mentioned your first conversation again nor asked his name, instead asking him random questions as they seemed to strike your fancy. About his favorite food, his favorite color, movie recommendations, if he had any pets, what he liked taking pictures of so much that he returned almost daily. It was largely nonsensical, and he found you harder to read with each passing day because your eyes seemed to sparkle as if the tiny bits of knowledge he divulged had painted some elaborate picture of him in your mind. 
Even with you sharing little tidbits of your own monotonous life you had tied his mind into intricate knots. Your father was a fisherman, more precisely a shrimper you had proudly proclaimed as you undid the straps of your overalls to show him the pink shrimp decal on the back of your sweatshirt. You never mentioned a mother or any siblings, nor any friends. You liked to swim but couldn’t do it often. Your favorite color was a very precise shade of pink, and you liked to read books about personality types and astrology when you weren’t busy. Mindless details that gushed from your mouth with absurd passion. 
Somedays he wasn’t sure if it was the sun or your vivacious personality that warmed him more, your happy-go-lucky mood infectious as you chattered away. You were quickly becoming part of his routine, strolling alongside him spewing silly facts about sea animals or begging him for little details on his day. 
Your characteristic orange overalls had been featured in some of his photography as well, cheerfully adding a splash of color to even the dreariest backdrops. You made shrimp nets look pleasant and the creatures even more so as you ran up to him, pulling one from your pocket as you waved it at him like a child with a centipede just to sneak it into his own pocket before he left. 
For once everything seemed dripping with color, the thrill of seeing your glowing visage as you waved at him from the deck of your father’s boat turning his stomach in a pleasantly warm manner. 
He broke his own rule. He got comfortable with someone else, comfortable in his limited time, in his own skin, and he missed the little signs until it was glaring in his face. 
The sun was warm enough that the sound of the waves was nearly sufficient to lull him to sleep as he sat dangling his legs off the pier, the water teasing his soles in a silent ploy to drench his socks. The day was quiet, almost uncomfortably so and he wasn’t sure why. Port Elpis was always lively when the weather was pleasant, but there was a nagging sense of unease that drew his lips into a firm line.
You weren’t around. 
He felt silly. The two of you weren’t close by any means, acquaintances more than friends. There was no reason to miss you, you were nothing but a loud disruption to his day. He didn’t even know your name. 
But if that was really all you were to him he shouldn’t have felt his gut twist unpleasantly when he realized your absence, nor when he finally saw you and realized you didn’t look well.
You looked haggard and pale, movements sluggish as if it demanded too much energy to fully pick up your feet. There was a constant grimace painted across your face, like each movement was laced with pain. You scarcely looked his way as you approached, eyes sunken. 
“Oh, hey,” you spoke through gritted teeth as your eyes wavered weakly. Even now you did your best to wave, hands trembling fiercely. “I can’t hang out today, sorry.”
“You’re sick.”
It was a matter-of-fact statement, no longer an observation. He would recognize that look anywhere, he had seen it a thousand times growing up. 
“Were you… in the hospital for a while as a kid?” 
He shouldn’t have been thoughtless. It was out of character for him to not pry into every tiny detail of the life of a stranger that had so unceremoniously pushed into his life, like a flower sprouting from a sidewalk crack. With a little effort he was sure he would have unearthed a medical history as extensive as his own, all starting from the same place with a name he tried desperately to forget. 
He rubbed the choker at his neck. He’d never seen your nape either, strategically covered by the hood of your jacket or a high necked top. He’d never questioned you on the days when you lied poorly to his face about why you had a limp, or why you looked so tired, always claiming it had been a long day and nothing more. 
Some highly trained intelligence officer he turned out to be.
“Let me help you.” The words came out faster than his body moved, swinging his legs back up onto the pier. 
“It’s okay.” You reassured, weakly attempting to wave him off. “It’s not that serious, I’m just tired.”
“Tired my ass, you’re sick.” He hissed. “This isn’t something you can play around with, now let me help you.”
You were lighter than he thought you were, but maybe he had anticipated more muscle to be hidden under the frumpy layers you wore daily. You smelled like a fishing boat but not in a way he found unpleasant, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you down the pier on his back. He could feel your body trembling. 
“I’m sorry.” You muttered regretfully, forehead pressed against his shoulder as he stepped off the pier and onto your boat, his step wavering for just a moment before he regained his balance. 
“Stop apologizing.” He chided as you directed him to where your room was under the deck. The space was awkward to navigate with you on his back, but if he experienced any difficulty he didn’t verbalize it, dutifully depositing you on your unmade bed. 
“I really am sorry though.” He wouldn’t be able to convince you it was fine, but he would be able to shoot you a disapproving look as he grabbed the heel of your boot and slid it off before giving the other the same treatment. 
You frowned, shifting as if you were uncomfortable in your own skin. “I’ve bothered you on your time off.”
“You’ve never bothered me.”
He tugged on the leg of your overalls, he would have to commend you on your dedication. As if interpreting his cue you unlatched the shoulder straps, allowing him to help you slide them off before he discarded them on top of your boots. At least you dressed comfortably beneath them, though he would let the ridiculous sparkly fish patches on your sweats go this time. 
He tossed your comforter over your head. “But you will bother me if you don’t rest.” 
You didn’t protest, flipping the fabric off your face with a huff. You knew he was right. 
“Hurry up and get better, I’m not going to wait forever.” He said curtly as he stepped into the hallway, pulling your door shut behind him.
“Wait!” 
He paused, the door hanging ajar. “What is it?”
You swallowed thickly, tongue fuzzy. “(Y/n). My name is (y/n).” 
His hand tightened on the doorknob. 
“Harumasa.”
The door shut, but Pandora’s theoretical box had already been opened.
He remembered you.
They called you the luckiest unlucky child in the world. It was a ridiculous name that you seethed at because you found nothing of your situation lucky. Your mother had claimed the record for longest lived patient with Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome, but such distinction meant very little when your father stood over her grave cradling you in his arms. 
Within a few years you would look just like her, idle in a hospital bed with numerous lines running from your thin, veiny arms as they kept you so sedate the childish glow in your eyes had faded into a drug induced stupor. 
You were lucky to be born, and unlucky enough to survive.
Most days were good, you were strong and vital as if the ugly veins of your illness didn’t lurk just below the skin. You ran through the halls, constantly attempted to escape to the lush yard of the hospital, sat with the other kids after they got out of surgery to give them offerings of crude crayon drawings and wild stories of swimming in the ocean and the creatures within it. 
But your bad days were palpable, the halls silent without you there to fill the air with wild stories and laughter. No one visited you when you had a flare up, tears and snot streaking your face as you silently cried through the pain that ignited every nerve ending in your body in such a way that even the act of breathing hurt in a near unbearable manner. 
Your father would sit in your room for hours at a time in those moments, anxious over your worsening condition up until the moment they barred him from seeing you. Before the week was over he had a court order that relinquished you of their care and returned you to him. 
The day you left, Harumasa had resigned himself to the fact that he would never see you again. The likelihood of either of you surviving childhood was slim enough, but to dream of meeting in a place outside the walls of the hospital was an idea even he didn’t dare consider. 
Seeing you now, seeing you grown, was almost enough to make him believe some good deity watched over the world and deemed you too kind to die young.
He would have to find a new place to seek solace, Port Elpis was becoming something dangerously close to the memories he sought to repress, but his body acted on autopilot and brought him back every day without fail.
One week turned into two, and just as the third was cresting you reappeared with a smile on your face.
You were stupid to take your health so lightly.
He was stupid to let himself become invested.
“I remember you!” Were the first words you said after reuniting with him, swinging your legs off the pier as you sat so close beside him your shoulders pressed together.
“It’s just been a few weeks, I’d be concerned if you didn’t.” 
You pouted, elbowing his side. “You know that’s not what I mean. I remember you from before, from the hospital.”
“Looks like we both grew up well, huh? But I guess you did better than me. Is it creepy to admit that I searched your name on the InterKnot?” If you were truly embarrassed it failed to show, a low whistle passing your lips. “Section 6, you went and became a real bigshot.” 
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
You swung your head low, teetering dangerously on the edge of the pier as you jutted your face into his line of sight. Your eyes sparkled with the same mirth that curled the corners of your lips. “Says the guy that doesn’t work on a shrimp boat. Take the compliment, even I’m proud of how far you came.”
You kicked at his ankle. “Not many of us have the chance to say that.”
Ah. There you went again, reminding him of a twisted past he couldn’t shake. Sure, his therapist thought it would do him good to confront the ghosts of his childhood, but he liked to disagree (if him promptly claiming he was “done with therapy” and “thanks for your time, doc” before walking out and never returning their calls had anything to say about it). There were too many things he wasn’t ready to face head-on, even if they crawled from the pits of despair and grasped at his ankles so fiercely that the thought alone slowed him down. 
But it did stir back the embers that burned his gut with unease from an interaction he had not that far in the past.
“Has anyone from the hospital tried to contact you recently?”
“Well yeah, they are all worried about my condition after my flare up.”
“Not that hospital.” He clarified. “The old one.”
Your eyes danced across the scenery for a moment, lips pursed in thought before you shook your head. “Nope, not that I can remember. Why?”
He left out a relieved sigh, shoulders slouching momentarily. He still wasn’t sure what his Master’s assistant wanted, or why he suddenly appeared before him now trying to toy with his feelings using other sick children as emotional leverage, but at least he hadn’t found you yet. He fished his phone from his pocket, unlocking it as he handed it to you.
“Put your number in there. There’s no reason for us to be strangers.” 
He was blatantly evasive, and you could certainly tell but you didn’t raise any qualms as you typed in your phone number. “Signal is spotty when we go out of the Port, so if I don’t answer quickly don’t get all worried thinking I got kidnapped or died or something.” You warned as you passed his phone back before puffing out your chest proudly. “I like to think I’ve still got a few good years in me.”
His smile when he looked at you was so sincere you nearly toppled off the pier in shock, one hand quickly planting against his cheek as you forcefully turned his head away while the other gripped the fabric of your shirt over your heart.
“Those interknot forums weren’t kidding,” your tone was distressed as you looked away from him, “your smile really is a deadly weapon.”
He laughed. He laughed at you, at the absurd way you managed to turn a rapidly darkening conversation into something ridiculous and sugary sweet. It was as novel as a syrupy popsicle on a hot day, the aghast and shy way you—the natural enemy of public embarrassment—had now turned. 
It was bright, vital, blooming with a color he didn’t think he could find in the world anymore.
Then it all grew violently dull.
[ Shrimp Girl ] Someone from the old hospital came to see me today
[ Shrimp Girl ] I think he said his name was Kirishima?
His stomach plummeted as he read your message in the wee hours of the morning, and it didn’t abate until he laid eyes on you working diligently at the Port a few hours later. The morning sun had yet to crest the horizon, the air hanging thick and grey with morning dew. You stood out like a traffic cone, bundled in a few extra layers to fend off the cold as you worked. 
It was his hurried footsteps down the pier that alerted you to his presence, a smile on your face as you waved at him. “You’re here early. What’s with the serious face?”
The scent of the sea and the creatures you had skimmed out of the water was almost noxious to his sensitive nose. He was afraid he only tolerated the smell when it lingered on your clothes. His nose wrinkled as he nonchalantly lifted a hand to it as if it would help the smell abate.
“I just needed to make sure you were alright. What did Kirishima want?”
“Nothing.” You said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask for anything, just the usual small talk you get from doctors. You know, “can’t believe you made it this long” and “you look great”, stuff like that.” 
He was beginning to question your survival instincts, anxiety bubbling in his gut. Kirishima may not have shown his true colors yet, but it was suspicious that he showed up looking for you after years of radio silence. His own personal connection to Kirishima made it less surprising, but his link to you was still vague and incomplete.
“Now that I think about it, he did mention that he’s working on some new drug, said he might open a trial for it soon.”
His blood ran cold, a hand quickly wrapping around your wrist. The serious expression he wore was new for you, his features usually relaxed when you ran into him. 
“Please don’t take anything he gives you.” 
You nodded slowly, feeling his fingers firm against your pulse.
“I’m going to be busy for a few days, so don’t look for me.” His grip faltered, slipping from your wrist to hook around the crook of your fingers. They were cold, not unlike his own. 
He didn’t owe you an explanation or some promise of a timeline. He could walk away from the Port and never turn back, find out what Kirishima wanted and pretend seeing a ghost from his past never occurred, but seeing the concern that knitted your brows at his words was enough to make him regret the sharpened tone he had used. He toyed with your fingers.
“I’ll buy you a nice meal when I get back, so don’t get worked up thinking I’m never returning or something.” 
You hooked his pinky around your own. 
“I’ll hold you to it then.” 
He was grateful your boat wasn’t in the Port the day he separated the children from Kirishima, something about the idea of you being far away from that place coming as a welcome relief. The kids would have liked you, loved you even. While he could put on a brave face and lie through his teeth you were so charmingly real that he had little doubt you would have been an inspiration, but you were too soft and there were too many hands yet to be revealed. 
You would have been another worry to plague his mind, and with the Proxy breathing down his neck it would have been hard to focus on navigating the current mess he found himself in. 
It was a mess indeed, like watching a carefully crafted tower crumble as the top became unsteady, unraveling in a glorious display of dust and ruin. He knew it would be the case before he agreed to meet Kirishima at the Port to look for where his Master hid his research, but he wasn’t expecting to see you there.
Maybe he should have expected it, you had seemed anxious at his curt communication over the past weeks while he gathering what information he could before an inevitable confrontation with his Master’s assistant. Maybe he should have expected whatever ugly connection with Kirishima that was woven into your past to rear its head at some point. 
Your expression was harsh, the edges of a bandage showing around the sides of your neck. There was a vial in your hand, your knuckles white from how tightly you gripped it.
“I did what you asked, now back off.” You hissed between your teeth as you tossed the vial at Kirishima, the man laughing as he caught it with infuriating ease.
He flipped the vial up to the light filtering from the industrial fixtures that shined from the shipping containers, a clear and colorless fluid washing within. Spinal fluid.
“I knew you would come around to my way of thinking. Why don’t you join us for a moment, an extra pair of eyes might be useful.”
Your gaze wavered to the blackened edges of the hollow behind him, taking a half step back as you shook your head. 
“Come on now, don’t tell me you’re—,”
Harumasa’s hand was heavy on his shoulder, Kirishima pausing just to glance back at his guarded expression, eyes flickering back to you for a brief instance as a impish grin tugged at his lips.
“Fine, I guess it can’t be helped.” He fished in his labcoat pocket, producing a folded stack of papers before he tossed them at your feet, the papers soaking instantly as they hit the wet pavement. 
He waved the vial at you tauntingly before he pocketed it. “Thank you again for your service, the children will be so appreciative.”
Your guilt ridden expression was the last thing Harumasa recalled seeing as he stepped through the barrier of the Hollow, the Proxy hot on his trail.
He didn't see you for weeks, his condition too fragile in the wake of the high ether levels he subjected himself to in the hollow. Whether it be Section 6, the proxy, or even the kids from the sanatorium it was hard to find a moment of quiet, though he couldn’t deny that it was a welcome change from his normal solitude. 
Everything had quietly pieced itself together. His master’s ultimate purpose with his research, Kirishima being prosecuted for his crimes, the children being given another chance at having a childhood instead of existing as human experiments. 
It felt…nice for once, the sun comforting on his skin as the sea breeze toyed with the tails of his headband. Everyone had long gone home, leaving him in silence once again. His eyes fluttered shut under the intensity of the setting sun, his lungs filling with salt-laden air as the inside of his eyelids stained a brilliant orange.
Orange.
Like the color of your ridiculous overalls, or of the novelty candy you insisted he try with you. Orange like the canned drinks you were fond of when you decided to treat him and yourself to a greasy snack from the stand back at the parking lot. The color of your nails when you decided to paint them on your day off, proudly waving them in front of his face. The same orange of your swimsuit the day you shucked off your normal wear and dove off the pier into the frigid water. You actually were a strong swimmer when your body wasn’t trying to destroy itself thanks to your shared disease.
Orange like the stripe painted on the side of the shrimp trawler that drifted by in the distance when he reopened his eyes, a hand raising to shield them from the harsh rays of the setting sun. 
“Ahoy there!” You shouted through cupped hands. He couldn’t see your face from where he stood squinting into the light, but he knew you were smiling, framed in a halo of vibrant orange.
"I'm ready to cash in on that meal you owe me!"
Port Elpis was a lonely place.
Was is the real curiosity if you asked him.
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Rey 2025
89 notes · View notes
eclipseberrycake · 19 hours ago
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Virulent (MBC x Reader)
AN: Hey Guyysss-
It's me :) Have I annoyed you all yet? /lh Anyway, I was on tiktok as I always am these days when people annoy me (Ginger mains- when I catch you ginger mains-) I noticed a lot of redesigns of the mains twisted forms to turn them lethal and yk what? Hell yeah. So I've been brain rotting and decided to share with you!
This is kind of far off from what I normally post but I still wanted to share with you, plus it's still MBC! And Distractor! Reader. Think of it as an AU! Of that universe.
Warnings: Depictions of horror themes, talk of mutated twisteds, threats of death (No one dies dw, I'm too soft for that), if you don't vibe with zombie apocalypse vibes, then this one may not be for you, and that's okay! Also kinda shorter than normal because I'm tried and had an assignment due that I forgot about :(.
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☁ With all the mains back, runs had surprisingly gotten easier, if you did say so yourself. It was much easier to distract when you knew where the twisteds were and who they were the second you stepped out of the elevator. And having Shelly running around giving boosts made the time spent distracting cut shorter and shorter. Plus having Pebble right there as well was always a bonus.
☁ And of course, your sweet moonshine and berry boy. It was always a pleasure to be with them on runs and have them shadow you as you went; It was like a safety net in a way, moreso when Cosmo came along. It was very rare there was a run going on where one of you was going, and the others did not follow.
☁ That being said, there were times you missed the simpler runs with just you, Poppy and Boxten and maybe a few other commons. The mains all had their inside jokes and experiences together that, regardless of how hard Sprout and Astro tried not to, sometimes left you and Cosmo feeling like the odd ones looking in.
☁ Which is where you were currently, joking and laughing with the other commons as you all tried to go for a long run. It had started early this morning, and while you were unsure how long you were down there, you were sure it was well past lunch. The others knew you'd be gone a while though and planned their days accordingly.
☁ You hadn't even realized the true extent of how far you'd gone until Dandy was popping up, eyes frantic despite you all buying regularly. He eyeballed you as you approached, making you hesitate when reaching for the band on a pillow. "...Is there something wrong?"
☁ "Floor 50. I'm not even down here very long." He spoke and your blood chilled at the tone, Cosmo quickly threading his fingers with your own. Dandy noted this before refocusing back on you, eyes sharp and calculating. "Do you know what you're stepping into?"
☁ "I assume it's no different than any other floor." You sneer back, quickly exchanging your tapes for a bandage, watching carefully as Cosmo did the same.
☁ Dandy took them almost robotically, lips twitching just a bit. "...You've never been this far, have you?" You haven't, you didn't even think there were this many floors, but you weren't going to tell him that. Whether he saw it on your face or not, he grinned. "I'll leave the elevator open. As a one time grace for you all to return at any time." He yanked on the lever suddenly, giving a bright wave. "Good luck! You're gonna need it!"
☁ The warning, from Dandy nonetheless, does little to ease your nerves, but you still step out of the elevator with a kiss for Cosmo before taking off. It was a replica of the Christmas Toon's floor, so the twisted's should've been easy to find. Only...you didn't find anything.
☁ You immediately called out to be aware of objects on the ground, because as much as you loved Blu and Oakley, you didn't want a repeat.
☁ Still, the air felt...different then it did in that time. Like something sinister was watching, waiting, hunting. Taking off once more, you quickly rush to find Cosmo, finding him working on a machine. Seeing him find brings a sense of relief to you, but it's not enough to erase the feeling.
☁ "I don't like it." You frown, looking over your shoulder as you heard the rapid swish of air moving. There was nothing there.
☁ "I get what you mean. Leaving the elevator open?" Cosmo raises a brow ridge, pausing the extracting he was doing. "It's just not-" He turns to face you, only to pause, mouth gaping open as he grows impressively pale incredibly quick. He's staring behind you, watching as something moves. You go to look, but he's quick to stop you.
☁ "Something's wrong." He whispers, much quieter, struggling to draw his eyes away from whatever he was seeing. "I don't want you near...that."
☁ "Near what?" You try to turn around again and he grabs your chin this time. "Y/N, please." He pleads. "We just need to back away and-"
☁ There's a shrill shriek and this time he can't stop you as you whirl around to see Tisha with the same expression Cosmo had on his face. Behind you is a tall twisted, taller than any you've seen, other than Dandy. It's one red eye is glowing at you, locked on as it hands from the ceiling. Two of it's arms hang by it's head, lifeless and stained with ichor, though the large claws don't look any less deadly. A drop of ichor hangs out of its mouth before splatting on the ground, making your stare it, horrified. It moves like a bug, slowly as it's multiple limbs each click against the ceiling.
☁ None of you can move, you can only watch as it grows closer. There's a swish of fabric as it reorientates itself to stand upright, the two limbs that were previously lifeless lifting, as if to caress you. You don't let it, stepping back in time as Cosmo pulls you back into him.
☁ It's close enough you could see it's face though. Half of it's face is stretched unnaturally, tinged a soft blue, but darkens as it twists up in recognition of your act of denial. There's a large white star on the other half, which begins to whirr wildly, spinning and spinning and spinning.
☁ For a fleeting second, your traitorous brain turns to Astro and his twisted and the similarities between that and this...thing.
☁ The star on it's face suddenly shoots out and you tackle Cosmo to the ground as Tisha takes off to warn the others to get to elevator. There's a crash as the machine Cosmo was working on is shattered, ichor spilling out over both of you as glass rains all over the floor. Whatever is in front of you screeches and two arms reach for you.
☁ You're quick to grab Cosmo, hauling him up and taking him with you as you both take off towards the elevator. There's two sets of footsteps behind you, but with a quick glance, you see it's only the one twisted, but with four running limbs being used rather than the regular two. It's catching up fast, too fast, and for a second you swear it's going to grab you, but a hand around your waist makes you're entire system shudder before you and Cosmo are both being yanked into the elevator, which shuts much faster than usual.
☁ Everyone in the elevator is silent before Tisha is letting out a blood curdling scream, grabbing at the edges of her box. "What was THAT?!"
☁ "I don't know!" Goob cries out, big eyes already welling with tears as he pulls at his fur. Scraps is trying to help him best she can, but even she's pale and struggling to control her shaking.
☁ You couldn't outrun it. You couldn't outrun it. YOU COULD NOT OUTRUN IT. As a distractor, that's one of your only roles, and you couldn't do it. Scrambling, you shakily get to your knees, crawling to where Cosmo is slowly sitting up. His eyes are darting everywhere before landing on you, meeting you halfway and cradling you to his chest.
☁ You clutch onto his sweater with white knuckles, shaking so badly you fear tearing the fabric. The way he holds onto you is much the same however, so you don't think he minds too much.
☁ "Maybe...Maybe next time we..." You struggle to find words, throat closing as you fight more tears. Your tail gives a whip behind you before curling around Cosmo, lacing itself between the center of his curl for a better hold.
☁ "We don't." Glisten shudders, smoothing out his bow before rubbing the space between his brows. "We can't- I don't even think the mains would know how to handle that."
☁ "It kinda looked like Astro." Rodger mentions, fingers tracing a crack in his glass before retracting. "Do you think it's possible the Ichor is mutating?"
☁ "Mutating?" You shake your head. "That- That can't be. That's-" You pause before growing suddenly angry. "That's not fair!" You're suddenly seething at the aspect of it all. A new terrain to learn, new twisteds, new methods of containing them; a whole new set of injuries...Of scars. "I can't. I can't do it! I can't!" You cry out, turning to hide your tears in Cosmo's sweater as he numbly rubs your back.
☁ The elevator gives a cheerful ding, a direct contrast to everyone else's mood in the elevator. It opens to the vibrant and cheerful colors of the lobby and you hear the footsteps of the others rapidly approaching, but to you, you're just reminded of-
☁ "Cosmo! Y/N!" Your attention is quickly redirected to where Sprout and Astro are eagerly approaching, the former wrapping you both in a tight hug that the remaining partner is quick to join.
☁ It's a comforting presence and it makes your heart steady itself before fingers are picking at your fur. "Did something happen? You're both covered in ichor." Astro frets, immediately making that ill feeling return to your guts. You debate not telling them before immediately erasing the thought. They needed to know they had too. If anyone could at least begin to get a handle on how to survive...whatever that was.
☁ "There's something about floor 50."
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bummblebe · 17 hours ago
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Adorable Too
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TfP Bumblebee x Reader
Word Count: 1,783
Summary: You're all too infatuated with a certain yellow mech, much to his initial confusion to your change in attitude.
Song choices <3
> Fool - Frankie Cosmos
> Glue Song - Beabadoobee
You weren't sure how long exactly you had these feelings for, but after discovering them as of recent, they've never left your mind since.
You can only pray that your revelation of admiration to a specific scout hasn't resulted in any noticeable changes in your behavior. Once you came to the conclusion (after catching yourself shamelessly fawning over him in silence during a most recent mission), like a hopeless coward you did.. absolutely nothing about it. You considered limiting visits to the base to lessen the chances of making a fool of yourself, but that might've looked more suspicious if anything.
So, here you are, at the autobot base trying desperately too hard to push down the feelings and pretend that you didn't discover anything major about yourself in the past few days.
It was proving very difficult with Bumblebee standing right behind the designated human-sized couch you, Raf, and Miko were all sitting on, the other two competing against each other in some racing game and completely oblivious to your internal battle. Their game was the last thing you could pay attention to; his presence being right there had you feel like your back was on fire, any sitting position you readjusted to never felt comfortable enough for longer than ten seconds, a lingering sense of uncomfortable insecurity engulfed your every move as you couldn't help but constantly think of the possibility of him just perceiving you. Crazy to think that a couple days ago you never would've thought twice about minute things like where your hands should be resting, whether your hair was in the way or a mess, or both. What's the battle, the struggle, one might ask? It's being on a couch.
You've never had an issue sitting on a couch before--you would swear on it, ..right now just wasn't a great example of that.
After realizing that maybe your sitting is a little too rigid for what's meant to be and is a casual hangout between friends, you silently take a breath and slowly but surely start to lean back to meet with the comfortable plush of the couch.
Though, rather than being met with the couch, instead your back made contact with the scout's servos.
Instantly, as if a shock was sent throughout your body, you flinched forward in surprise, disconnecting the contact immediately. You noticed the spot on your back that unintentionally touched his hand felt the hottest, almost as if it were a burn; nothing bad, just in the sense of an overwhelming warmth. 
A whir in the tone of a question sounded from the scout behind you, and in quick thinking you tried to play off your unexpected reaction in a continued swing to hoist yourself up from the couch. Reaching your hands above your head, you gave out the pressure in your lower back in a satisfying stretch, not realizing the words he was saying.
"Uh- ..Sorry about that, Bee. Didn't mean to bump you," you spoke apologetically, turning your face so that he wouldn't just be looking at your back, but you couldn't get your eyes to leave the railing to properly make eye contact.
Bee responded with affirmative albeit hesitant beeps.
That seemed to have done the trick.
Without removing her eyes from the screen, Miko tilted her head towards you. "Where ya headed off to?"
Quick, come up with something.
"Oh, you know.. 'just going to go get something from.. from our pantry real quick yeah- you guys want me to get you anything while I'm there?"
"Nah, 'm good thanks," Miko uttered, clearly preoccupied.
Nailed it.
"Raf?" You queried next. Unlike Miko, Raf actually looked at you to answer your offer. "Oh, I'm alright [Name], thank you." You smiled and with that, turned to the descending ladder (and judging from the groan of frustration paired alongside an exclamation of victory from behind you, Raf's politeness appeared to be his detriment in-game). Just as you were about to turn your body to climb down, a few familiar beeps stopped you. Looking up, Bumblebee stood right in front of you, in front of the ladder, with his head tilt to the side.
The only words you were able to pick up on were '-want.. ... help you?'
Judging by his now outstretched metallic palm just below you, you filled in the rest that he just offered to take you to the bottom of the ladder himself. 'Do you want me to help you?' it was probably was.
This was nothing out of the ordinary, he's done this for you many times before. The problem came from you not knowing how to properly act anymore. Any other day you would've gladly accepted without thinking twice about it, and right now is mostly the same, except now you're thinking too much about it.
You nodded your head, “Oh sure, thanks Bee. I’d love for you to help me.” 
Bee, though with no visible mouth, gave a smile evident through his bright optics as he cooed a few excited chirps and beeps, you stepping off the platform and now in his clutches. 
You looked up, returning an innocent smile towards him.
Looks will forever be deceiving because internally you were in a panic.
Why did you say ‘love?’ You’d love for him to help you? How obvious can you be? You kept your eyes closed, not daring to look at him as you basked in your inner embarrassment.
You felt the small rush in your stomach as Bumblebee leisurely descended his hand down upon the lower ground as gently as he could. Stepping off, you shot Bee a thumbs up and quickly trodded off to the small room directly underneath the upper landing that you and your fellow humans deemed the 'pantry,' a place where you four kept a stash of snacks and drinks. It was the only remaining human-sized room (more like closet) that wasn't being used so why not make it a snack hole? Truly, it started with Miko keeping her snacks there 'temporarily' (as she swore) but it soon escalated to you, Jack, and occasionally Raf contributing to the snack haven; now the four of you have sustenance at your disposal whenever any of you visited the base.
Even with all that, upon entering you nearly forgot that you lied to get here so you could avoid an awkward situation and you were stumped on what to actually bring back.
...
"What's the matter Bee?"
The mech looked up to face Rafael, apparently during a game intermission as Miko was checking something on her flip phone. After hearing the question though, she looked up, all too interested. "Why're you asking? Did Bumblebee say something?" Raf only shook his head, "No it's not about anything he said I just thought he--..well--are you feeling down, Bee?" He redirected his attention back to the scout.
Bumblebee shook his helm, waving his servos in front of him. Beeps and churs left his chassis in a series pertaining to an explanation.
"What about [Name]..?"
Miko scrambled on her knees, fully on the couch as she faced the yellow bot with intrigue. "What's it Raf?" she questioned in ardor. "Bee's just a little worried about [Name]," Raf translated. Miko frowned, "How come? They seemed alright to me?"
A continued stream of robotic whirs and boops left Bee with different dips in tones natural of someone speaking, even if unconventionally.
"So? What's he saying?" Miko asked in loud, exaggerated whisper.
Raf, in response to Bee, tilted his head, "Different how?"
"Beep, beep zip. Zrr beep kr."
"Really? I guess that's a little weird.. Think they're feeling okay?"
Miko bounced in her spot on the couch impatiently, "Hello? Gonna fill me in yet?"
Raf gave an exhausted sigh. "Bee just noticed that [Name] seemed really dismissive of him today is all."
Miko rolled her eyes and whisked her body around, slumping in the couch and returning her attention back to her flip phone. "Eh, I wouldn't dwell."
"How are you so confident?" Raf asked, curious at how quick the girl just dismissed the concern.
Miko tilted her head towards him, "Come on, there's no way they hate Bee or anything."
At this, Bumblebee's optics swirled for a good few seconds. Realization hit when he gave a few worried beeps, looking away from the two other humans in disquiet. Raf was about to give comfort to the distressed mech. "In case they think you're annoying or something just be extra nice to them! That'll help," Miko advised wisely. Raf winced at her choice of wording. "I really don't think that's all too necessary.. especially considering-"
Bee was quick to intercept and hastily utter determined whirs and beeps in response.
Suddenly, you emerged from underneath the main platform, head peaking out after climbing the ladder, not having been paying any attention to the conversation that had just ended. You huffed yourself over the edge, arms hoisting towards the platform, still below the upper-ground level. In your hands was a pack of honey-graham crackers.
Honey --> ....bee..
Ah. You winced at the unintentional yet reaching similarity to who's been on your mind all day.
At least it wasn't that obvious. Hopefully.
A few beeps from behind you entered your ears and before you could even register what they meant, you were gently lifted off of the ladder and quickly placed fully on the grounding. You continued to stand there, snack still in your hand, as you slowly turned your head to face the yellow mech. "Thanks- thanks Bee but uh- uhm.. what was that for?" You cursed yourself for the stuttering, begging that your red face wasn't as noticeable as you're imagining it is to be.
He only responded with a few of those charming sound signals of his, optics spiraling as he did, to which you couldn't stop the smile creeping up to your face. From the sidelines, Raf and Miko exchanged unknowing glances, the first shrugging his shoulders in uncertainty towards the other.
You shook your head and swiftly returned to your spot on the couch. You sighed. "Adorable..," giving the quietest of mutters as it was drowned out by your expertly timed opening of your retrieved snack.
Or so you thought.
Bee's optics gave a spin, the teal lights from his eyes dilating.
After a few seconds of shocked silence, he chirped out six excited beeps, and Raf nearly stumbled in the resumed video game (much to his dismay and probably to Miko's pleasure.
You also nearly choked mid-chewing, face growing hotter as your heartbeat intercepted within your eardrum.
The only words you were able to pick up from him were 'adorable too.'
End Notes: Fact about this one-shot: When the reader accidentally bumped Bee on the couch, his hand was actually purposefully reaching for their hair to try to help pushing it aside because he wanted the reader to be comfortable after he noticed they kept shifting so much. I think it's sweet!
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iamquiantrelle · 3 hours ago
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VIRGIN TERRITORY (chapter 5) ────── iamquaintrelle
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# pairing: aurelien tchouameni x black oc (☔️✨💕)
# tags: @whoevenisthiz @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @rougereds @f1-football-fiend @judectrl @ayeshami @greyishbach @haartemis @goldenngt @solidbrii @sailurmewn @rainbowsparkelsunshine @lbchi @bbgkoo @mauvecherie-writes
# summary: she's been his pa for almost a year and every day is a struggle to function around him, but he'll never see her more than that...will he? and what will happen if he finds out she's also a virgin? masterlist.
The Atlanta airport is different after months of European terminals. Everything's louder, more familiar, more home. Leila's dragging her designer luggage (a gift from Josette on her birthday) past Popeyes and Chick-fil-A, the smell making her realize how much she's missed proper Southern food.
Her mama nearly drops her church hat when she walks through the door unannounced, clutching her chest like Leila's appearance might send her straight to Jesus.
"Lord have mercy! What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Did that boy—" Jeanna Mae's already reaching for her phone, probably to alert the whole prayer circle about her prodigal daughter's return.
"Mama, breathe." Leila drops her bags by the door, taking in the familiar scent of sweet potato pie and those vanilla plugins. The house looks exactly the same – family photos covering every surface, that ancient TV guide that hasn't been opened since streaming existed, her daddy's old recliner still in its spot of honor.
"Don't tell me to breathe when you show up looking like somebody broke your heart." Her mama's fingers are flying across her phone screen. "And I bet it's about that captain of yours. The one who won't admit his feelings."
"Mama—"
"Don't 'mama' me. You flew across an ocean to run from that boy. I raised you better than that."
Before Leila can defend her life choices, her phone explodes with notifications:
Yolanda: BITCH YOU'RE HOME??? Kenzi: Emergency drinks at Slim & Husky's in 30. This is not a request Tasha: Don't even think about saying no. We saw your IG stories Yolanda: Already ordered the wine. GET HERE
Her mama's already pushing her toward the stairs, that knowing look in her eyes. "Go change. Your girls are waiting. But don't think this conversation is over. I want to know everything about this William boy too."
"How do you even—"
"Baby girl, I might be old but I know how to use Instagram. Now go. But we're having a proper talk when you get back."
An hour later, she's squeezed into a booth at Slim & Husky's, surrounded by her best friends since middle school and enough pizza and wine to fuel a proper intervention. The restaurant's busy for a weeknight, filled with that specific Atlanta energy she didn't realize she'd missed.
"So let me get this straight," Yolanda leans forward, wine glass dangling dangerously while her bamboo earrings catch the light. "You got TWO fine African men fighting over you? In EUROPE?"
"They're not fighting—"
"Girl, please." Kenzi rolls her eyes so hard they might get stuck. "One's bringing you Lebanese food while the other's having whole breakdowns in tunnels? That's fighting. That's fighting in multiple languages."
"And you're here because…?" Tasha raises an eyebrow, already reaching for another slice. "Because from where I'm sitting, you running from good dick. Multiple good dicks."
"I needed space," Leila adjusts her glasses, a nervous habit that makes her friends exchange looks. "From both of them. From all of it."
"Space?" All three look at her like she's lost her European mind.
"From the situation," she clarifies. "It's complicated."
"What's complicated about your captain being clearly in love with you but too scared to say it?" Yolanda's got that look that means she's about to start speaking truths nobody asked for.
"Or about you dating his teammate to make him jealous?" Kenzi adds, signaling for more wine. "Because baby, that's what you're doing."
"I am NOT—"
"You are." Tasha cuts her off, voice gentle but firm. "And baby? That never ends well. Trust someone who knows."
"Plus," Kenzi adds, "that William seems sweet. He doesn't deserve to be your rebound."
"He's not—"
"He is." All three say it in unison, years of friendship making them a well-oiled truth-telling machine.
"Look," Yolanda sets down her wine glass like she's about to deliver a sermon. "You got these two fine men – both rich, both fine as hell, both clearly interested. One's bringing you food and treating you right, while the other's having whole emotional breakdowns over you but won't say why. And instead of dealing with it, you flew home to eat pizza with us."
"The pizza is good though," Leila mutters.
"Not better than French dick," Tasha coughs into her wine.
The truth of it all hits different over pizza and pinot noir in her hometown, surrounded by friends who've known her since she was wearing Limited Too and dreaming about her first kiss. Maybe she did run. Maybe she's still running.
But maybe she needed to come home to figure out where she's actually trying to go.
"So what are you gonna do?" Kenzi asks softly.
Leila looks down at her phone – no messages from Aurélien, but three from William checking if she landed safely.
"I don't know."
But that's a lie.
She does know.
She's just not ready to admit it yet.
"Well if it isn't the finest women in Atlanta."
The voice makes Leila's entire body cringe before she even looks up. Torrance Johnson – high school quarterback turned local gym trainer – is standing at their table with that same smile that definitely worked better ten years ago.
"Torrance," Yolanda's voice could freeze hell. "Don't you have some protein shakes to blend?"
But he's already focused on Leila, eyes doing that slow scan that makes her wish she'd worn a turtleneck. "Damn girl, Europe's been good to you. When'd you get back?"
"She's not staying," Tasha cuts in. "And she's taken."
"By two men," Kenzi adds helpfully, earning herself a kick under the table.
"Two?" Torrance's eyebrows shoot up. "Nah, can't be. Our Leila? Miss Voted Most Likely to Marry Her Books?"
Something about the way he says it – that hint of dismissal, that suggestion that she couldn't possibly have multiple men interested – reminds her exactly why she left Atlanta in the first place.
Her eyes catch on his deliberately distressed jeans, probably bought that way from some boutique in Buckhead, and suddenly all she can think about is Aurélien. How he dresses like every Atlanta rapper's Pinterest board come to life, all designer streetwear and chains that probably cost more than Torrance's trainer fees.
"You should go," she says finally, not even looking up from her wine. "Your protein shakes are calling."
"Come on now—"
"She said go." Yolanda's voice carries enough attitude to make several nearby tables look over.
He leaves, but not before dropping his card on the table with a wink that probably works better on girls who haven't seen him throw up at prom.
"The audacity," Tasha mutters, reaching for more wine. "Acting like you ain't out here with whole European footballers fighting over you."
"They're not—"
"Girl, if you say they're not fighting one more time," Kenzi cuts in. "We've seen the videos. Your captain looked ready to commit murder in that tunnel."
"And William?" Yolanda adds. "That's not just trying to get some, that's husband behavior."
Leila's phone buzzes – another text from William asking how her first night home is going. Nothing from Aurélien, but Cama has sent her a video of him absolutely destroying the training ground equipment.
"You know what's funny?" she says finally, still staring at her phone. "Aurélien dresses exactly like these Atlanta boys trying to look hard. All ripped jeans and chains and-"
"Baby," Tasha interrupts gently, "the fact that you're thinking about how he dresses tells us everything we need to know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Yolanda starts, "that you flew across an ocean to get away from your feelings but you're still noticing his clothes."
"His very expensive clothes," Kenzi adds. "Not whatever Fashion Nova collection Torrance was trying to rock."
"Can we not—"
"Compare them?" Tasha grins. "Too late. We've all seen your Instagram stories. We know exactly what kind of men you're working with now."
"And neither of them," Yolanda adds, "is anything like these local boys trying to act like they're something. Your captain might dress Atlanta, but baby? That man's got that real money energy. And William?"
"Pure class," Kenzi nods. "The way he looks at you in those photos? Like you hung the moon or something."
"Meanwhile Aurélien looks at you like he's trying to figure out how to possess your soul," Tasha observes. "In a hot way."
"Y'all are doing too much," Leila mutters, but her cheeks are warm.
"Are we though?" Yolanda challenges. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've got two whole meals fighting over you in Europe while Torrance 'Peak in High School' Johnson is trying to get your attention with some jeans he probably bought at ASOS."
"The difference," Kenzi adds, "is that Aurélien's probably wearing jeans that cost more than Torrance's car."
"And William's probably never worn distressed anything in his life," Tasha laughs.
"Can we talk about something else?" Leila pleads. "Anything else?"
"Sure," Yolanda grins. "Let's talk about how you're going to handle going back to work. That's coming whether you're ready or not."
The reminder sits heavy in her stomach. One week left of pretending she's not running from her feelings. One week of Georgia comfort before facing reality.
Her phone buzzes again – a text from her mama this time:
That boy called me again. The captain. Asked how you were.
She turns her phone face down.
The chatter at the table felt like a lifeline, a reminder that even with the chaos of her love life — or whatever this was — her friends never changed.
"Alright, y’all," Leila starts, her tone light but her fingers nervously taps her glass. "If we’re gonna dissect my life like this, at least give me something useful. Any advice for handling… all of this?"
"You mean William?" Yolanda grin like she’s been waiting for this moment. "Or both of them?"
"Both," Leila admits, earning a chorus of gasps and exaggerated cheers from around the table.
"You kissed him, though?" Kenzi presses. "William? Wilo? What was it like?"
Leila took a sip of wine, letting the anticipation build. "It was… nice," she says, feigning nonchalance.
"Nice? Girl, come on!" Kenzi groans.
"Fine," Leila relents, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. "It made my kitty purr."
The table erupts, laughter bubbling up loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.
"Big purr!" Yolanda cackles, fanning herself dramatically.
"And yet, you’re still hung up on Aurélien," Tasha says knowingly, swirling her wine like she had the upper hand in this conversation. "You can’t hide that."
"Because he’s got her heart," Yolanda teases. "William might’ve gotten a kiss, but Aurélien’s the one she wants to risk it all for."
"Okay, okay, but," Kenzi cuts in, her tone shifting into unsolicited-advice territory. "If you’re really gonna give Wilo a shot, you need to bring your A-game. Like, head game on ten."
Leila groans, her head falling into her hands. "Why do I feel like I’m about to regret asking this?"
"Because you probably are," Yolanda teases, ignoring her protest. "But listen up. The trick with a guy like William? You gotta be confident. Show him you know what you’re doing. And eye contact. Always."
"Exactly," Kenzi agrees, raising her glass. "And if he gets all quiet or grabs your hair—"
"I’m leaving," Leila interrupts, though she stayed firmly in her seat, face buried in her hands.
"You’re not going anywhere," Tasha says with a smirk. "This is gold, and you know it."
"I can’t believe I’m having this conversation," Leila mutters, peeking up from her hands.
"Believe it, baby," Yolanda says, taking a sip of her drink. "And take notes, because we all know William’s got that 'nice boy' energy, but Aurélien?"
"He’s giving 'break-the-headboard' energy," Tasha finishes matter-of-factly, earning another round of laughter.
Leila tries to glare at Tasha, but the heat rushing to her cheeks betrays her. "Y’all really have no chill, do you?"
"Not when we’re right," Yolanda says, sliding her phone across the table. "Speaking of Aurélien, have you seen this picture of him on the pitch? Look at his tongue."
Leila glances down reluctantly, only to be met with an image of Aurélien mid-game: shirt clinging to his torso, a sheen of sweat glistening under the stadium lights, his tongue peeking out in what was either concentration or defiance. His face was as expressive as ever, eyes lit with determination.
"You’re telling me this man isn’t whispering filthy things in French while making you see God?" Yolanda asks, her tone almost academic.
"I’m saying nothing," Leila says, snatching the phone and flipping it over. "Y’all are too much."
"But we’re not wrong," Kenzi shot back. "Aurélien looks like he’d talk you into doing things you didn’t even know you wanted to do. Just with that voice."
"And that tongue," Yolanda adds, grinning devilishly. "Girl, do you know how expressive his face is? Like, come on. He’s not just scoring goals on the pitch."
"Alright, that’s enough!" Leila protests, trying to keep her composure despite the riotous laughter around her.
"Enough?" Tasha raises a brow. "Girl, we’ve barely started. You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. About him and that—"
"I haven’t!" Leila lies, her voice is a little too high-pitched to be convincing.
"Uh-huh." Yolanda wasn’t buying it. "Listen, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. That’s not just casual interest. That’s 'call out my name when you’re about to come' energy."
Kenzi nearly spat her drink. "I mean, facts, but damn, Yolanda, say it with your chest."
"She already did," Tasha quipps. "And she’s not wrong. Leila, you’ve got two literal snacks fighting over you. One’s sweet, one’s spicy. You’ve gotta at least taste one."
Leila groans, her face in her hands again. "Y’all are insufferable."
"But you love us," Kenzi says, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "And we love you. We just want you to live your best life. With both of them, if that’s what it takes."
"Big facts," Yolanda says, raising her glass. "To Leila living her best life, with Aurélien, William, and whoever else makes her kitty purr."
Leila couldn’t help but laugh, raising her own glass in surrender. "Y’all are ridiculous."
"Ridiculously right," Tasha says with a wink. "Now, tell us more about that kiss. Did he grab your waist? Your face? Both?"
And just like that, the teasing continued, leaving Leila both mortified and comforted. If nothing else, her girls always had her back, even if it meant roasting her into oblivion in the process.
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Leila was halfway through her third slice of pizza at Slim & Husky’s when her phone buzzed on the table. The low hum of conversation and the warm scent of garlic and cheese filled the space, but the message on her screen stole her focus.
Wilo: Can you come to London next weekend? I miss you.
She stared at the words, her stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with the food. Her friends were busy splitting a cinnamon roll flight, oblivious to the sudden weight in her chest.
"You good?" Kenzi asks, nudging her shoulder.
Leila blinks, quickly locking her phone. "Yeah. Just Wilo being… Wilo."
"Oh, what’s he saying now?" Yolanda leans in, her curiosity obvious.
"Nothing important," Leila mutters, waving them off.
Her friends gave her knowing looks but didn’t press further. Leila took another bite of pizza, forcing herself to focus on the moment, the laughter, the easy camaraderie. But her phone felt heavier in her pocket now, like it was daring her to check it again.
Later that night, back at home, the scent of fried chicken and collard greens still lingered in the air from dinner. Leila leans against the counter, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long gone lukewarm. The hum of the dishwasher filled the kitchen as her mama wiped down the table, and her daddy sat at the head, finishing the last of his sweet tea with a satisfied sigh.
"That hit the spot, baby," he says, patting his belly. His trucker hat was tipped back on his head, a little smudge of grease still on his hands from unloading earlier.
Her mama smiles, but the look she gave him was clear: We need some girl time.
He caught the silent signal and grins, pushing back his chair. "Alright, I know when I’m not needed. Leila, you make sure your mama doesn’t go pulling out another project this late. I’m gonna grab a shower."
"Yes, sir," Leila says with a small smile, watching him leave the room.
Her mama waited until the sound of the shower started before she finally spoke.
"You got something on your mind, girl?" her mama asks, setting down the dishcloth.
Leila hesitates. "No. Just tired."
Her mama raised a brow but didn’t push. Instead, she grabbed a glass of water and leaned on the counter across from Leila.
"You get my text about Aurélien calling me today?" she asks, her tone deceptively casual.
"Yeah."
"Wanted to check on you. Asked how you’ve been," her mama says, sipping her water.
Leila frowns. "What did you tell him?"
"Told him you’re grown, handling your business," her mama replies easily. "But he sounded worried. Said he missed you.”
Leila’s chest tightens, but she kept her expression cool. "He didn’t say that to me."
"Maybe he’s scared to," her mama says, fixing her with that all-knowing look. "Men don’t always say what they mean, but they show it in other ways."
Leila snorts, shaking her head. "He’s all talk, Mama. If he cared, he’d show up. William’s the one actually trying."
Her mama’s lips quirks up in a small smile. "Maybe. Or maybe you’re just scared of what it would mean if Aurélien came through. Scared to let him in."
Leila looks away, her throat tight. "I’m not scared."
"Sure you’re not," her mama says lightly, pushing off the counter. She paused to kiss the top of Leila’s head. "Just don’t be so busy keeping your options open that you miss out on what you really want."
As her mama walked out of the kitchen, Leila’s phone buzz again.
Wilo: Please, Leila. I just want to see you.
Her thumb hovers over the screen, but her mind isn’t on Wilo. It was on Aurélien and the way his name had sounded coming from her mama’s lips. The way her heart had skipped just a little at the thought of him calling to check on her.
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Leila only has a few more days at home, and it’s messing with her head. She thought coming back to Atlanta would give her clarity, but instead, it feels like everything is weighing on her even more. The whole thing with Aurélien and Wilo — it’s making everything harder.
Should she quit being Aurélien’s PA to be with Wilo? Or just quit being a PA altogether and finally figure herself out? But if she does quit, she’s not going back to corporate. Hell no. That life nearly drained her dry the first time around, and she’s not making that mistake again.
Still, the idea of starting fresh sounds good — better than being stuck in the middle of whatever this is. But then Wilo texts her again, and curiosity gets the better of her. What could this thing with him really be? Would it work if she gave it a real shot?
It’s late, but she picks up her phone and finally replies.
Leila: I’ll come see you this week.
His response comes almost immediately.
Wilo: This week? You sure?
Leila: Yeah. I’ll let you know when I land.
She doesn’t give herself time to overthink it. By morning, her ticket to London is booked, and by the afternoon, she’s already on her way to the airport. Her mama gives her one of those tight hugs that says, I know you’re up to something, but I’ll let you figure it out. Her daddy tells her to be safe, his attention mostly on the game playing on the living room TV.
The flight is smooth, and she spends most of it bouncing between nervous excitement and second-guessing herself. By the time she lands, her resolve is still intact, but she’s made one decision for sure— she’s not staying at Wilo’s house. That’s too much temptation, and she needs to be as clear-headed as possible.
Her hotel is chic but understated, the kind of place that feels luxurious without screaming it. She texts Wilo her room number once she’s checked in, her pulse kicking up as she sends it.
Not even twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.
When she opens it, Wilo is standing there, dressed down in a hoodie and jeans, but somehow still looking like he just stepped out of a GQ spread. He’s holding a bouquet of white roses and grinning like he’s relieved she actually showed up.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice low and warm.
"Hey," she replies, stepping aside to let him in.
The air between them feels heavy but not uncomfortable. He hands her the flowers, his fingers brushing hers in a way that sends a jolt straight through her.
"I wasn’t sure if you were serious," he admits, watching her as she sets the flowers on the desk near the window.
"I was," she says, turning to face him. "I just… needed to make sure I was doing this for the right reasons."
"And?"
"And I’m here," she says simply, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Wilo steps closer, his gaze steady and unflinching. "I’m glad you are."
Leila feels her heart skip, but she keeps her cool, determined to stay clear-headed and focused. She’s not here to get swept away — at least, that’s what she tells herself.
"So," she says, breaking the moment before it gets too intense. "What’s the plan?"
He grins, his dimples making an appearance. "I thought we’d just wing it. Unless you’ve got something in mind?"
"Wing it works," she says, grabbing her jacket.
As they head out, she can’t help but wonder if she’s walking into something that will make everything even more complicated — or if, for once, it might actually lead to something real.
Leila and Wilo keep it low-key, staying under the radar as much as possible. No fancy dinners or crowded hotspots — just little moments that feel easy. They grab coffee at a quiet café tucked into a side street, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and a barista who doesn’t even blink at Wilo’s recognizable face.
Later, they wander through a park, laughing about something stupid Wilo said. It’s simple, and it feels good — so good that Leila starts to think this could actually work.
At one point, they find themselves in a small record store. Wilo flips through vinyls, holding one up every now and then with a smug grin. "You’d love this," he says, handing her a Prince album.
Leila rolls her eyes but takes it anyway, her fingers brushing against his for a second too long. It’s moments like this that make her question everything she thought she wanted or didn’t want.
As they sit down for a late lunch at a quiet bistro, she sneaks a photo of Wilo, mid-laugh, the light catching just right on his face. She uploads it to her Close Friends story, tagging it with a coy little caption: London’s treating me well.
Her Close Friends list is carefully curated. Aurélien isn’t on it — he never has been — but Jules and Cama are. And if she knows anything about them, they’re definitely going to report back.
And she doesn’t care.
Part of her wants them to. She wants Aurélien to see the photo, to know she’s here, to feel something. Everyone keeps saying he has feelings for her, but he’s never done anything to prove it. No grand gesture, no confession, not even a drunken text. If he has feelings, he hides them well, and Leila’s tired of guessing.
As the day goes on, though, her phone stays silent. No text, no DM, nothing. She tries to push it out of her mind, focusing on Wilo instead. He’s attentive, sweet, and clearly into her, and she knows she should be grateful for that.
But as much as she tries to stay present, Aurélien lingers in the back of her mind.
When she gets back to her hotel that evening, Wilo walks her to her door, his hand lingering at her lower back. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him with a soft smile.
"Not tonight," she says, her voice gentle but firm.
Wilo steps back, nodding. "I get it," he says, his tone understanding. "Goodnight, Leila."
"Goodnight," she replies, watching him walk away before stepping into her room.
As she sits on the edge of the bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, she starts to wonder if it’s time to cut her losses entirely. Maybe Aurélien’s silence is her answer. Maybe it’s time to stop waiting for something that’s never going to happen.
She exhales sharply, tossing her phone onto the nightstand. Whatever happens next, she knows one thing for sure: she’s done chasing after a man who won’t meet her halfway.
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Leila wakes up to the soft hum of her phone vibrating against the nightstand. She groggily grabs it, squinting at the screen. A text from Wilo.
Wilo: Training’s at nine. Match starts at six. Rest up so you don’t fall asleep in the stands.
She rolls her eyes but smiles, setting the phone down. Today is her last full day in London, and as much as she’s enjoyed the ease of her time with Wilo, the reality of going back to Madrid looms like a cloud over her.
By the time she’s up and moving, Wilo’s already at the training ground, leaving her with a slow morning to herself. She takes her time getting ready, picking out a sleek but casual outfit for the game: a fitted cream sweater tucked into high-waisted jeans and ankle boots. Makeup just this side of "I woke up like this" but definitely intentional and finally using her contact lenses (bout goddamn time).
As the day creeps toward evening, she grabs an Uber to the stadium. She’s buzzed into the VIP entrance, her name already on the list, and escorted to her seat in the family section. The energy inside the stadium is electric, fans chanting and waving scarves as the teams warm up. She watches Wilo out on the pitch, his warmup jacket zipped up to his chin as he jogs and stretches. He looks calm, focused, and seeing him like this — so in his element — makes her chest tighten in a way she wasn’t expecting.
The match kicks off, and it’s tense from the start. Liverpool presses hard, their attacks relentless, but Arsenal holds their own. Wilo is sharp on the ball, threading passes with precision and orchestrating plays like he was born to do it. Leila watches, captivated, her hands gripping the edge of her seat every time he makes a dangerous run or intercepts a pass.
At halftime, the score is still 0-0, and the tension in the stadium is palpable. Leila scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself, but her notifications are quiet. She had half-expected a message from Jules or Cama, but apparently, they’ve decided to keep their mouths shut or maybe Aurélien just doesn’t care.
The second half is even more intense. Liverpool finally scores, and the stadium goes silent except for the away fans celebrating. But Arsenal fights back, and in the 50th minute, Wilo delivers a stunning assist that leads to an equalizer. The crowd erupts, and Leila finds herself on her feet, cheering and clapping like she’s been an Arsenal fan her whole life.
When the final whistle blows, the game ends in a 2-2 draw. It’s not a win, but it’s a hard-fought point, and the energy in the stadium reflects that.
After the match, she’s escorted to the family area. She spots Bukayo Saka almost immediately, his bright smile unmistakable as he chats with a group of people. He notices her standing off to the side and makes his way over.
"Hey, you’re Wilo’s friend, right?" Bukayo asks, extending a hand.
Leila shakes it, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Yeah, Leila. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too. He’s been talking about you all week."
Her cheeks warm at that, but she keeps her composure. "Hopefully, only good things."
Bukayo laughs. "Yeah, don’t worry. All good things."
They chat for a bit, Bukayo’s easygoing nature making the conversation flow effortlessly. He’s mid-sentence when someone else calls out to him, and he waves before excusing himself. Leila glances around the room, her eyes landing on a familiar figure — Ibou Konaté.
Ibou catches her gaze and raises an eyebrow. "So. You and Wilo, it's serious, huh?"
She rolls her eyes. "Don't start."
He chuckles, those famous dimples appearing. "Brussels was interesting. Aurélien wasn't exactly subtle about his mood."
Leila freezes. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on," Ibou says, leaning in. "You think Les Bleus don't talk? After those Israel and Belgium matches? Aure looked like he was one bad pass away from committing murder every time Wilo was mentioned." His tone is knowing, just this side of teasing. "He's not gonna like this. Not one bit."
"Ibou—" she starts, a warning in her voice.
He holds up his hands. "Just saying. Some captains get… particular about things." The way he says it makes it clear he's talking about Aurélien specifically. "Wilo's a good guy. But Aure? Man's complicated."
Leila can't help the small laugh that escapes. "Tell me about it."
She chats with Ibou for a few more minutes then he gave her a hug before he left. Her phone then buzzes. A text from Wilo.
Wilo: Where you at?
She types a quick response: Family area. Waiting on you.
A few minutes later, he appears, freshly showered and dressed in casual streetwear. His eyes find hers instantly, and he makes his way over, his lips curving into a soft smile.
"Tired?" he asks, sitting down beside her.
"Not really," she lies. In truth, the emotional weight of the day — of the entire trip — is starting to catch up with her.
"Good," he says. "I want to take you out for one last drink before you leave."
She hesitates, but only for a second. "Okay," she says, her voice steady.
They leave the stadium together, slipping out a side exit to avoid the lingering fans and media. The bar he takes her to is quiet and intimate, tucked away in a corner of the city she doesn’t recognize. They sit in a cozy booth, nursing their drinks and talking about everything and nothing.
For a moment, it feels easy — like they’re just two people enjoying each other’s company without the weight of the world pressing down on them.
But as the night winds down, the reality of her impending departure settles heavily between them.
"Thanks for today," she says as they stand outside the bar, the cool night air nipping at her skin.
"Anytime," he says, his eyes searching hers.
She knows she should say more — explain how much she’s appreciated his kindness, his patience, his effort — but the words catch in her throat.
Wilo steps closer, his hands finding her waist in a way that feels both casual and deliberate. "Can I take you back?" he asks, his voice low and warm.
She nods, and just like that, they’re walking back to her hotel. The streets are quieter now, the city winding down around them. Leila keeps her hands in her pockets, but Wilo’s presence beside her feels grounding, a steady reminder that for tonight, she doesn’t have to figure everything out.
At the hotel entrance, she pauses, not quite ready to say goodbye. "You don’t have to walk me all the way up," she says softly.
"Didn’t plan to," he teases, though his smile is gentle.
Still, he lingers. He tilts her chin up with a finger, his touch light, testing. When she doesn’t pull away, he leans down and kisses her. It’s soft at first, a question she answers without hesitation, leaning into him like she’s been waiting for this all night.
His hands slide to her hips, pulling her closer, and for a moment, she forgets everything — Aurélien, the uncertainty, the nagging voice in her head telling her this is a bad idea. All she knows is the warmth of Wilo’s lips against hers, the way he tastes like the pint he ordered earlier, the way he makes her feel wanted.
When they break apart, she’s breathless, her heart pounding. "I should…" she starts, but the rest of the sentence never comes.
"You should," he agrees, though there’s a glint in his eye that says he knows she won’t.
Panic creep into her thoughts, uninvited but impossible to ignore. Wilo is right here, and he’s been nothing but good to her. Why is she still holding back?
"Do you want to come up?" The question slips out before she can stop it, her voice quieter than she intended.
Wilo studies her for a beat, searching her face for something —hesitation, regret, a reason to say no. Whatever he finds seems to satisfy him, because he nods. "Yeah," he says simply.
The elevator ride to her floor is silent, the air between them charged. By the time they reach her room, her nerves are buzzing, though she doesn’t quite know if it’s anticipation or anxiety.
Inside, she tosses her bag onto the chair and turns to face him. He’s already close, closing the distance between them in two strides. This time, his kiss isn’t soft or questioning - it’s confident, urgent, like he’s been waiting for her permission all night.
Her hands find their way to his shoulders, then his chest, sliding under the fabric of his shirt. His skin is warm, his muscles taut under her touch. He groans softly against her lips, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.
"Leila," he murmurs, his voice rough. It’s not a question, but it feels like one, like he’s giving her a chance to stop this before it goes too far.
But she doesn’t want to stop. Not tonight. Not when everything feels this good, this right.
"Don’t think," she whispers, her words muffled against his lips, feeling a pull to give in even though her mind is screaming at her to stop.
It feels too good — his mouth on hers, his hands now sliding under the hem of her sweater, fingertips brushing her skin in a way that sends a bolt of heat straight through to her kitty. For a second, she can forget everything. Forget the uncertainty, the guilt. Forget Aurélien and the pressure of what she’s supposed to want, what she’s supposed to feel.
Her heart beats faster, and the only thing that matters is the way Wilo’s kiss deepens, pulling her closer as if they’re both drowning in each other, but even as she gets lost in the sensation, the thought of what this means for later creeps up, a whisper in her mind.
Stop before you do something you’ll regret, her inner voice warns, and it’s almost a shout against the moment. She should pull away, tell him this is a mistake, that she’s not ready to complicate things more than they already are.
Yet then, the conversation with her girls back in Atlanta echoes in her mind. Because why should she keep hanging on to something that wasn’t even clear? Wilo is here, and he’s been nothing but good to her. He’s showing her attention — something she craves, something that’s been missing for too long.
She breathes in, pulling away just enough to look at him, her hands resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palms. Her voice is barely a whisper, but it carries a weight. "I’m not... I’m not gonna go all the way," she says, almost like a promise, though part of her wishes she could just let go.
Wilo doesn’t pull away, his eyes searching hers, gauging her intentions. "Just a taste, then?" he murmurs, the question laced with a little teasing but also an understanding. He isn’t pushing her. He’s letting her make the call.
A part of her wants to shake her head, to step back and stop this before it goes too far. She knows better, knows she shouldn’t be using him to fill a gap that Aurélien has left wide open. However, Wilo’s not asking for anything more than what she’s willing to give him right now — and, hell, maybe she needs it. Plus, he got her panties wetter than a Slip N' Slide.
She smiles a little, though it’s hesitant, her mind still conflicted. "Yeah," she says softly, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "Just a taste."
And in that moment, it feels like a decision.
His lips are back on hers instantly, and the kiss deepens with an urgency that’s different now, like they both know the boundaries but are still curious enough to see how far they can go. His hands are sliding back to her waist, tugging her closer until she can feel the heat of him through their clothes.
Wilo’s hands are warm, exploring, but careful. He’s taking his time, sensing her hesitation, allowing her the space to pull back if she needs it. But she doesn’t. Instead, she lets herself go, leaning into the moment as his lips travel to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Every kiss feels like a promise she isn’t sure she’s ready to make, but she’s here, and she’s going to live in the now. She’s not sure how much longer she can keep pretending she doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him.
Leila can feel her pulse quicken as Wilo’s hands slide down her arms, gently tugging at the fabric of her sweater. The air between them crackles with the same electricity that had been building ever since her first day in London.
With a soft tug, he pulls the sweater over her head, leaving her in just a bra. She can feel the cool air of the hotel room against her skin and Wilo’s eyes don’t leave hers as he strips off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. She feels her breath hitch, the sight of him sending a wave of heat through her.
He notices her reaction, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and teasing.
Ho-ly shit. Leila nods, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just… wasn’t expecting all of that."
He chuckles softly and gets closer, his hands resting gently on her hips before his lips find hers. Leila kisses him back, feeling the pull of desire stir within her.
They stumble backward onto the bed, their lips still tangled in a kiss, the heat between them intensifying. She can’t help but enjoy the feel of his hands on her body, the way his fingers move with intention, his touch confident yet tender. When his hands wander, brushing along her sides and up her back before copping a feel on her titties, his dick pressing against her thigh; she arches into him instinctively. His touch makes her feel seen, cherished, in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.
Leila wonders what would happen if she let go entirely. What if she just let herself be free of all the things that tie her down?
Even in the heat of it all, a small part of her pulls back. She remembers the life she’s built — the career she’s worked for — and wonders if she’s willing to risk it all for something that might be temporary.
Her phone starts vibrating. Once. Twice.
One of Wilo's hands is tracing lazy circles along her lower back. "Ignore it," he murmurs, his lips still brushing the shell of her ear.
She does — until the phone goes nuclear. Ping. Ping. Ping-ping-ping. A digital storm that practically rattles the walls.
Wilo raises an eyebrow, pulling back just enough to glance at her phone. "Damn," he mutters under his breath.
Her screen is chaos. Four missed calls. Multiple texts. And, of course, a voice note from Aurélien.
The timing? Almost comical. Almost.
Leila swipes open the messages. They’re an avalanche — each one more urgent than the last. Her thumb hovers over the voice note, hesitant but not enough to stop her. A ticking time bomb of potential drama.
She looks at Wilo, a flicker of guilt passing through her, before her eyes drift back to the phone. Wilo doesn’t move, just watches her, unreadable.
"Give me a sec," she mutters, pulling away from him and sliding off the bed. The space between them feels too wide now, too obvious, but she ignores it, heading for the bathroom.
Door closed. Her back pressed against it, she lifts the phone to her ear.
Aurélien's voice hits her like a slap. Broken. Fragmented. Each word jagged, like he's stumbling through a maze of his own making.
"Leila, I—" His breath hitches. "I can't—" The silence is thick, filled with the things he's too scared to say. "Je suis—"
Her heart, traitorous as ever, speeds up. She presses the phone tighter to her ear, her own breath shaky in response to his.
Another ping. A text. She opens it without thinking.
First, a video. Aurélien's hands. His long fingers dancing over the piano keys in that way she knows too well. The melody — raw, unfinished. Like he’s trying to patch a hole in the air between them.
Then, a screenshot. A letter. A confession. Handwritten, messy, vulnerable. It’s almost too much to take.
Her breath catches.
The world outside the bathroom door feels distant. Almost unreal. Her mind pulls her back, urging her to breathe, to think. But the words on the screen? They’re the kind that push all logic aside.
Her finger hovers over the phone, but she can’t bring herself to delete the message. She opens it again.
The letter fills the screen, and it makes her chest tighten as she reads.
"I don’t know how to say it — words always fail me when it matters most. I’ve tried so many times, but each time, the words slip away like sand between my fingers. So this time, I’m writing it down. Maybe that’s all I can do. Maybe it’s enough to be honest.
You’ve become the quiet in my chaos. The calm in my storm. You’re the one I think about when I’m too tired to think about anything else. The one I reach for when I feel like I’m losing myself. But I never said it. And I should have. I should have said it, Leila. I should have been better at telling you that you matter, that you're my rock, more than just okay.
Maybe it’s too late now. But please know, it’s never been anyone else but you.
I’m sorry for not being brave enough before. But I’m here now. I’m ready to fight for this, if you are.
Aurelien."
She gasps as she finishes reading. His words, they hit different than before. She’s used to his confidence, his charm, his ability to make everything feel effortless. But this? This is him. Vulnerable. Honest. The rawness of it leaves her heart aching in places she didn't even know were sore.
It’s a love letter in its truest sense — one that doesn’t gloss over the mistakes, but lays them bare. The kind that you don’t often hear. And for the first time, she feels it. He’s finally saying the things he should have said long ago.
But is it too late?
The question sits heavy on her chest, and she hates that she even has to ask. She wants to be angry. She wants to throw his words back at him and walk away. But she can’t. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s been holding on to him, or because she’s scared of what this newfound honesty means. All she knows is that his words have shattered the wall she’s been building around her heart.
Aurelien’s been her whole world for so long. Maybe she’s been waiting for him to catch up, to finally see her the way she’s always seen him. But she’s not sure she has the strength to wait any longer.
She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to clear her mind. The cool air in the bathroom doesn’t help. Neither does the soft knock on the door.
"Everything alright?" Wilo’s voice is low, gentle, and when she doesn’t answer immediately, he pushes it open just a fraction.
Her heart skips at the sight of him. He’s standing there. He doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. He can see it in her face, in the way her hands are trembling slightly as she holds the phone.
"I’ll be fine," she says, her voice a little too sharp. It’s not his fault. None of this is his fault.
Wilo doesn’t press. He just steps into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, his gaze steady, like he’s giving her the space to breathe and figure it out for herself.
She stares at the phone again, knowing she can’t keep going back to the message. But it’s impossible to look away from it now. His words are etched in her mind, replaying over and over again. She thought she was over him. That she could move on, that the pieces would fall into place. Yet now?
She’s not sure.
Finally, she slides the phone back into her pocket, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"I don’t know what to do," she whispers, more to herself than to Wilo, but he hears her. He always does.
"You don’t have to decide right now," he says softly, but there’s a certain weight to his words. "You’re allowed to take your time, Leila."
Her chest tightens at the gentleness in his voice. He’s not pushing her. Not demanding answers. This isn’t about picking between him and Aurelien. It’s about what she wants, what she’s willing to fight for.
And the truth is, she’s tired. Tired of waiting, tired of not being seen, tired of trying to make things fit where they don’t.
But the letter… the letter is the first time he’s shown up for her, even if it’s a little too late. She doesn’t know if it’s enough to make up for everything, but it’s a start.
Leila takes a deep breath meeting Wilo’s gaze for the first time, really looking at him. He’s patient, understanding. And in his eyes, she doesn’t see the same questions that have been haunting her.
"Thank you," she says quietly. "For being here."
Wilo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he pulls her gently back into his arms, and for a moment, she lets herself feel the warmth of his presence, the steadiness of him.
But in the back of her mind, Aurelien’s words linger.
It’s never been anyone else but you.
Is it too late to believe him?
.............tbd
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jeansmartswhxre · 17 hours ago
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𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔏𝔲𝔰𝔱 | Vampire!Emily Prentiss
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emily prentiss x f!reader 18+, MDNI warnings: language, smutsmutsmut!!, mentions of blood, blood kink, feeding, teasing in public (others can't hear), dirty talk, petnames, strap-on (r!receiving), dom/sub dynamics, some aftercare, usual vampire stuff, feeder!reader (youre for em and em only) 2.5k words (i got carried away) This is my first fic about Em!! Lemme know if y'all want more Vampire AU stuff!! I'm currently writing vamp au's for Emily Spencer, Hotch, and Blake (JJ and other BAU members coming soon...) I hope to god there aren't typos lmfao... ENJOY!
You had been stuck in the bullpen all day finishing up paperwork and sitting through those boring budget meetings you always hated. One of those rare days where you weren’t flying across the country to catch unsubs. This however, was horrible for you. It was horrible because it meant you were at the every whim your vampire girlfriend. Days like these were the days you sometimes wished she wasn’t a vampire. Sometimes. The mind reading thing could be sexy, but she would sometimes be such a menace. 
For instance, during one of the budget meetings, your mind wandered. While Strauss was talking, all you could think about was the last time Emily fed, her fangs sinking into your tummy near your ribs. Moments later you could feel Emily’s eyes on you, her sitting across from you at the conference table. You turned to look at her, her eyebrow quirking up as your eyes met, you looked back at Strauss, her gaze too much for you to hold. Then she got in your head, “You naughty girl darling. You forget I can read your mind.” Fuck. “Where do you want me to feed next baby? I know you love it when I suck your neck. Or maybe I try something different like your thighs.” You turn to look her, giving her a warning look before looking back at Strauss. “You’re so cute when you think you’re in charge.” Emily smirked a little when she saw your eyes close briefly, trying so hard to ignore her. “Oh don’t worry baby. I have other plans for you. Just wait until tonight sweetness.”
It was taking every thing in you to control yourself, a wave of heat washing over your core. The rest of the meeting she drove you insane, she loved doing it. Watching you squirm while no one else knew what was going on in your head. When the meeting was over, you both walked out next to each other, her passing by you swiftly. Her scent entered your nostrils, a hint of tobacco lingering with a scent that was so Em. She could hear your heart speeding up as she walked past, a smirk gracing her lips as she sat at her desk.
This was a game she played all day, she always loved how needy you could get for her, and watching it build was admittedly a guilty pleasure of hers, torturing you. You were so grateful when Hotch came out his office and called it a night, telling the team we had been there long enough, the rest of the paperwork can wait for tomorrow. We all packed up our things saying our goodbyes, JJ and Spencer staying back a little to talk as Em came over to your desk. You couldn’t help but look at her form, her legs clad with black slacks, a black and silver belt on her hips, the buckle off center, because she knew it drove you crazy every time you saw it. Her top was red and ribbed, a boatneck, exposing her collarbones. She now wore a leather jacket, to act as protection against the cool fall air (even though she didn’t need it. But hey, she had to keep up appearances), a pair of big black sunglasses in her hair as she waited for you to pack your bag. She slung her purse over her shoulder, her top riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of her stomach, where you saw the beginnings of a mark you had left from the night before. “You ready to go sweetness.” She smirked. You nodded as you put back on your blazer, your bag hanging from your shoulder.
***
The car ride home was full of tension, you were so desperate to find out what Emily was planning for you. “Don’t be so nervous darling, I think you’ll like my little surprise” She smiles, glancing at you before bringing her eyes back to the road. Now that… that scared you. A fucking menace. 
When you finally pulled up your shared house, your heart definitely picked up. “God you’re so sexy when I can hear your blood pumping through your veins, all of it just for me.” She said before she left the car, leaving you groaning in the passenger seat before finally opening the door to catch up to her as she unlocked the front door.
As you walked through your front door, the both of you sat your bags on the table in your hallway, slipping off your shoes and hanging up your jackets. The second you were done Emily’s hand was on your wrist, pulling you into her, her lips automatically connecting with your neck. You couldn’t help but bring your hands to her hair, tugging slightly (something she loved), a groan escaping your lips as her teeth nipped along the skin there. “Em, please” you whimpered, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were already ruined from all the teasing at work, you truly couldn’t take it anymore. 
“What is it sweetness? Are you that desperate. I might have to tease you a little longer if you’re gonna be impatient.” Your head immediately shook. That was the last thing you wanted her to do. “No please Emmy, please… i cant take it.”  she couldn’t help but smirk, her fangs sheathing. jesus christ. It got you every time. No matter how many times you had seen them or how many times she fed, your knees always buckled when you saw them.
She ran her fangs along the exposed part of your neck, never piercing skin, but enough to make you wince. She was all hands, tugging your pencil skirt and white turtleneck off of you as you walked to your bedroom. You were left in your bra and panties, distracted by the feeling of Emily’s hands and lips all over you. She moved you toward the bed until the back of your legs hit it, causing you to fall backwards with her on top of you. She continued her journey down your body, kissing your tummy, stopping at the mark from last night, kissing it gently before running her tongue over it in gentle circles. You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your throat. She was so close to where you wanted, yet so far. With her on top of you, you couldn’t help but notice she was still fully clothed. Your hands slid down her sides, stopping at the hem of her shirt, gently tugging it up. “Emmy,” you whined, “You have too many clothes on baby.” You whimpered, needing to feel her beneath your fingertips. You watched as she looked up at you from your stomach, her fangs exposed, a sexy smile on her lips. 
“Alright baby, hang on… you’re lucky I need to taste you, or else I’d be edging you until the sun came up.” She smirked, leaving a kiss just above your belly button, before removing herself from on top of you. You watched as she took off her shirt and bra, her breasts jiggling slightly from their release, her hands sliding her slacks down her beautiful legs. “I’ll be right back sweetness, why don’t you take the rest of that off.” she says bending down to place a kiss on your lips, biting down on your bottom lip, before releasing it with a gentle tug walking to the bathroom in your room. Your eyes closed at the sensation, before falling off the bed, tugging your panties down your legs and your bra off your chest, throwing them god knows where. You laid on the bed patiently waiting for her to return, your body practically shaking in anticipation. Your thighs rubbing together to give yourself any semblance of friction.
You heard her footsteps, your head lolling to the side to watch her. Your eyes immediately fell to the harness across her hips, the dark red dildo jutting from it. “God baby, I could smell you all the way from the bathroom. All that for me? Fuck I bet your panties are ruined.” She said walking toward the bed. You, however, were in disbelief. The image of Em in the strap, her fangs jutting from her gums and her breasts on full display... you were practically drooling at the sight of her. She had never used the strap during your feeding before being that it was all still a little new. 
“Jesus Em.” You breathed. The smirk that played on her lips as she joined you on the bed could have made you cum right there. Your hand placed itself on her thigh, stroking it gently as she straddled your waist. 
“Baby, why don’t you get it wet for me, so I can fuck you while I feed.” Your eyes darkened at the idea. This woman was going to be the death of you. You nodded slowly as she moved a little closer to your mouth, you sitting up on your elbows to reach. Emily watched as your mouth wrapped around the dark red appendage, sucking just the tip, before sliding down further, eventually taking the full dildo in your mouth, your nose brushing against her tummy. She watched with her mouth agape, moaning when the base of it nudged against her clit. Her hands falling to your hair to move the strands from your face. “Fuck sweetness, you take me so well. I could watch you like this all night.” You did this for only a minute longer, before Emily’s hunger got too much for her to bear. She pulled you gently from her cock by your hair, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Fuck she looked so hot above you with those fangs. 
“I heard that baby,” she smirked. She leaned down to kiss your messy lips. Your hand moved to her chest, kneading her breasts, her moaning into your mouth as you tweaked her sensitive nipples with your fingers. You felt as her legs settled between yours, her cock nudging against your core. You couldn’t help but kiss down her jaw to her neck, moving down to her breasts, your tongue circling around her sensitive buds. She whimpered above you, you always loved when you could make her do that.
You didn’t want to stop but she pulled away from you, kneeling between your legs. Her fingers trailed up your thighs and she scooted closer to your core, the tip nudging your entrance. “Fuck baby, you look so pretty like this.” She murmured, before pushing into you. Your head fell back as she let you adjust to her size. “Nuh-uh baby, none of that, keep those pretty little eyes on me, I wanna see you before I feed.” She said, her hand coming to your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as she began to move. Her pace was slow and gentle, her hands grasping your neck quickly before running itself between the valley of your breasts, down to your tummy, her hand splayed out, pressing down gently which caused you to moan. “God you look so beautiful sweetness. Ok, I’m gonna start feeding now. Just trust me baby.” She moaned, the base of the strap hitting her just right as her hips kept moving. You nodded quickly, words unable to form at the image in front of you. 
Emily leaned down, her lips leaving gentle kisses on the side of your neck, it turning into wet kisses before you felt her fangs sink into your skin slowly. “Fuck.” You stuttered, the feeling of her fangs piercing your skin, and her hips moving into you driving you insane. You could already feel your head getting woozy from the combined sensations. You could feel Em moaning against your neck as she picked up her pace, her hips starting to snap into you as she fed, the taste of you driving her crazy. The feeling of the base of her cock pushing against her clit combined with the taste of you, was almost too much for her. You could feel her hips start to falter as she continued her feed, your orgasm building like walls around you, ready to crumble at any moment. “E-Emmy, t-too much. H-head getting woozy.” You moaned, your hand gripping at her waist as if to almost push her away. “F-fuck Em, p-please.” She finally released you, licking the blood that dripped from your neck before sitting up again. When she came back up, you watched as blood dripped from the corners of her mouth, falling down her chest as her hips picked up their pace, you could tell she was chasing her impending orgasm. You had never seen a sexier sight, Emily’s boobs swaying as she snapped her hips into you, blood dripping down them, her mouth a bloodied, baring her fangs. You sat up with all the strength you had, your tongue licking the blood that had trickled down her breast, the sight breaking Emily above you.
“F-Fuck baby, c’mon cum with me.” You didn’t need to be told twice. You were already so close and the taste of Emily mixed with the coppery taste of your own blood sent you over the edge. You couldn’t help the noises that escaped your lips as you came, Emily fucking you through both of your orgasms. 
When her hips finally stopped, she fell on top of you, her lips softly kissing her feed mark. “You did so fucking good for me sweetness, such a good girl” she whispered against your skin as she laid there for a minute. Your limbs were practically jelly. You were fucked out and woozy, exactly how Emily liked you. You whimpered as she removed her strap, the sudden emptiness almost too much for you. You watched through hazy eyes as she took it off, throwing it toward the bathroom for proper cleaning later. She moved back to you, pulling you into her, you head laying on her bare chest. “I can feel your heart darling, it’s pumping so fast.” She breathed against the top of your head, kissing it gently. Her hands gently roamed your body. “Thank you baby. You did so good for me baby, you tasted as sweet as ever. Next time I’m gonna have to feed while you cum, it’ll probably be even sweeter.” She whispered. You just nodded, your body still fucked out. “Use your words sweetness.”
“You’re welcome Emmy.” You rasped, a smirk appeared on her lips before she kissed her way from the top of your head to your lips, her hand holding your chin as she placed a gentle kiss there. You laid in her arms for a while as you waited for the wooziness to go away. Once that happened, she began the aftercare routine the both of you had perfected after a feed. She ran a warm bath for you, settling behind you to help you bathe, leaving little kisses and praises in her wake. This was always one of your favorite parts. 
After the bath, she would help you put on your body butters and oils before helping you get dressed, and in bed as she brought you small snacks and water. You took a couple nibbles of the protein bar she had brought and a couple of sips of water before laying back on her, wanting nothing than to be in her arms. 
“Seriously, thank you baby.”
“Anything for you Emmy.” You smiled, placing a quick peck to her cheek before completely settling on her chest, your heartbeats synching as the both of you fell asleep, tangled in each other's limbs.
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kathlare · 3 days ago
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i love you, i'm sorry
Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman
Summary: Set against the enchanting backdrop of Paris during the holidays, Amelie embraces fleeting moments of joy with Rodrigo, her steady and kind companion.
Wordcount: 1.2 k
Warnings: kinda mature content
full masterlist // request over here!
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December 20th, 2022 - Paris, France
The Parisian streets glistened with the soft glow of fairy lights, the city dressed up in its winter best. Amelie wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck as she strolled hand-in-hand with Rodrigo along the Seine. The crisp December air was filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and the distant hum of street performers. Paris, the city of love, had always been magical, but tonight, it felt even more so.
Rodrigo glanced at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. —Cold?— he asked, his voice low and warm.
Amelie shook her head, returning his smile. —Not when you’re holding my hand,— she teased, earning a laugh from him.
They had spent the past few days exploring the city—museums, quaint cafés, late-night walks by the Eiffel Tower. For the first time in a long while, Amelie felt like she was breathing again. She wasn’t consumed by the weight of the past or the questions that had lingered in the back of her mind. She was just... here. And it felt good.
As they turned a corner, the warm glow of a small bistro caught Amelie’s eye. They’d been wandering aimlessly, their plans intentionally loose to savor the spontaneity of it all.
—Hungry?— Rodrigo asked, following her gaze.
—Starving,— she replied with a grin.
The bistro was cozy, the kind of place that felt like a warm hug on a chilly night. They found a corner table by the window, the flicker of candlelight adding a soft glow to their faces. Rodrigo ordered a bottle of wine, and as the waiter poured their glasses, Amelie leaned back in her chair, letting the warmth of the moment settle over her.
Rodrigo watched her, his gaze unwavering. —You’re happy,— he said, almost like a statement rather than a question.
Amelie tilted her head, meeting his eyes. —I am,— she admitted, surprised by how easily the words came. —Paris has that effect, doesn’t it?—
He smiled, but there was something deeper in his expression, something that made her chest tighten. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. —It’s not just Paris,— he said softly. —It’s you. Being with you makes me happy.—
Amelie felt her breath catch. She hadn’t expected this—not tonight, not so soon. Rodrigo’s eyes searched hers, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.
—I love you, Amelie.—
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and light all at once. Amelie blinked, her heart racing. She hadn’t been prepared for this, not yet. They hadn’t been together long—barely over a month—and while she cared for Rodrigo, love? That was a different kind of weight. A different kind of truth.
But the way he looked at her, so open and vulnerable, made her feel like she couldn’t let him down. He had been nothing but kind, patient, and understanding, and he deserved to hear those words back. Didn’t he?
She forced a smile, her voice soft as she whispered back, —I love you too.—
The words felt foreign in her mouth, like they didn’t quite belong there. But Rodrigo’s face lit up, and for a moment, she convinced herself it was enough. She could grow into those words. She could try.
After dinner, they returned to their hotel, the night quiet except for the occasional hum of a car passing by. Their suite overlooked the city, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. Amelie stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the view.
Rodrigo came up behind her, his arms sliding around her waist as he pulled her back against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice a low murmur in her ear. —Beautiful, isn’t it?—
Amelie nodded, her gaze fixed on the glittering tower in the distance. —It really is.—
But her mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment at dinner over and over again. She tried to shake the unease creeping into her chest, convincing herself that this was what she wanted. Rodrigo was good for her—kind, steady, everything she hadn’t had in a long time.
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, his lips warm against her skin. —You’re quiet,— he said softly. —What’s on your mind?—
She turned to face him, forcing a smile as she looked up into his eyes. —Just taking it all in,— she said.
Rodrigo studied her for a moment, his hands resting on her hips. —I still can’t believe I get to be here with you. With everything going on in our lives...— He trailed off, his gaze softening. —You make everything else fade away.—
Amelie reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek. —You have a way with words, you know that?—
He chuckled, his hands tightening their grip on her waist. —It’s just how I feel.—
Their lips met, and for a moment, Amelie let herself get lost in the kiss. Rodrigo’s touch was gentle yet insistent, his hands moving to cradle her face as he deepened the kiss. She responded automatically, her body moving closer to his as the world outside their suite disappeared.
When they pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin. —Stay here with me tonight,— he whispered.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she nodded before she could think too much about it. —Okay.—
Rodrigo took her hand, leading her toward the bed. The room was dimly lit, the golden light from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. Amelie hesitated for a fraction of a second, the weight of the moment pressing against her chest. But then Rodrigo’s hands were on her again, his touch grounding her, and she let herself fall into the moment.
They moved together slowly, tentatively, as if they were learning each other for the first time. Rodrigo was gentle, his focus entirely on her, and Amelie tried to let herself sink into the moment, to push away the thoughts lingering in the back of her mind.
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, Rodrigo’s arm draped over her waist as he pressed lazy kisses to her shoulder. Amelie stared at the ceiling, her body still, her mind racing. She wanted to feel happy, to feel the kind of love that Rodrigo clearly felt for her. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was missing.
She turned her head to look at him, his face relaxed and content as he drifted toward sleep. He looked so peaceful, so certain of his feelings for her. And in that moment, Amelie made a silent promise to herself: she would try. She would try to move on, to leave the past where it belonged. Rodrigo deserved that, and maybe she did too.
But as she closed her eyes and tried to follow him into sleep, her mind betrayed her, conjuring an image of someone else—a pair of blue-green eyes and a crooked smile that had once been her whole world. She pushed the thought away, burying it deep as she pressed herself closer to Rodrigo.
It would get easier, she told herself. It had to.
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ameliedayman: je pense que vous souffrez d'un manque de vitamine moi
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fanaticforyou23: Amelie in Paris with Rodrigo? Girl’s living a movie. 🎥✨ → ameliefanatic99: @fanaticforyou23 No fr, she’s the main character. Paris just hits different with her vibes. 💅
rodrigoriquelme: Cada día contigo es un sueño hecho realidad, mi amor. ❤️🌹 → ameliedayman: @rodrigoriquelme París contigo lo es todo, te amo. 🫶✨
hatersalert99: Another trip with Rodrigo? Can she chill for five minutes? 🙄
landoxfan88: Winter break in Paris? Lando must be shaking. 🤭 → ameliefan_queen77: @landoxfan88 Bro, Lando is in the past. Focus on the present. 😂
parisgirlboss21: She really said, "I’m gonna make Paris look better." The power. 😩🔥
rodrigolover24: Amelie doesn’t deserve Rodrigo. He’s too good for this "pop star" stuff. 🙄 → ameliequeen_77: @rodrigolover24 They’re literally thriving, stay bitter tho. 😂
victoriadayman: Mi niña, disfruten mucho su tiempo juntos. ❤️ ¡Cuídense del frío! → ameliedayman: @victoriadayman Gracias, mamá. Siempre te extraño. 🥰✨
wanderlustbaby29: STOP, her Paris fits are giving chic af. I’m crying. 😭🖤
haterenergy22: Another perfect trip. Do we ever see her actually work? 🥴 → amelie_stan69: @haterenergy22 Imagine hating from your couch while she’s thriving in Paris. Couldn’t be me. 💅
bestie_vibes99: The way she makes Paris look like a fairytale... I need her life for 5 minutes. 😩🌹
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Beyond the Broken Frame - The Opposite and The Mirror Spin-Off
Okay, so I've literally been up all night writing this. I have no idea if this is any good or not and I won't be posting it anywhere else any time soon, but I'm posting it here. Here is the Spin-Off story/very long one shot for The Opposite and The Mirror that takes place in the first Resident Evil movie. It can be read below the cut. Hope y'all like it!
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Victoria squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before entering the Los Angeles Institute. This was the day she was to meet Theresa Silverbrook – her great-niece give or take a few greats that everyone called Tessa. Every fiber in Victoria's being buzzed with nervous anticipation.  Should she rehearse what she was going to say to her? Was being Nathaniel’s Parabatai a family secret that had been passed down, or had history conveniently forgotten about Victoria? All she knew for sure was this was a gamble, and she hoped it wouldn't be a colossal one.
A voice, young and brimming with a casual coolness, shattered her internal monologue. "Victoria Baywing?"
Victoria spun around, her breath hitching as she met Tessa's gaze. The girl was practically her younger sister's twin, a living echo of the past.  "Tessa?" Victoria managed, the name catching in her throat.
Tessa's eyes scanned Victoria with a hint of amusement, a sharp contrast to Victoria's bubbling anxiety.  "The one and only," she drawled, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.  "Honestly, I thought you were just a family legend."
Victoria blinked. "Legend? You knew about me?" This possibility had crossed her mind, but hearing it confirmed sent a jolt through her.
Tessa shrugged, her nonchalance a thin veil over a spark of hidden excitement. "Victoria Baywing – Parabatai to the mythical Gemini. That's the gist that got passed down. I always figured it was just a heroic ancestor story that got twisted to make our lineage sound more impressive."  Tessa paused, unsure of how to proceed. "So, uh, now what?"
Victoria, relieved by Tessa's openness, smiled warmly. "I'd love to get to know you, Tessa.  If you're open to it, of course."
Tessa, unable to fully mask her eagerness, mirrored the smile with a playful edge. "Sure, why not? It's not every day you meet a living legend."
And with that, a bond began to bridge the gap between generations, built on curiosity, shared lineage, and a hint of family history waiting to be unraveled in a story all of their own.
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Tessa held her hands behind her back, practically skipping her way through the LA Institute. As she flitted down the hallways, she pointed out various features, explaining everything with the enthusiasm of a tour guide on their first day. Victoria followed her, trying to keep up with Tessa's boundless energy. "And this is Ops," Tessa announced as she gestured towards a bustling control room filled with Shadowhunters.
A ways away from Ops, Tessa looked back at Victoria with a giddy grin when they reached a pair of thick, metal doors. "And now for my favorite place in the whole Institute." Tessa threw open the doors with a flourish.
As soon as the doors flung open, an explosion erupted from within the room. A thick plume of smoke billowed out, causing Tessa and Victoria to jump back in shock. Tessa quickly ran into the room, waving the smoke out of her face. "Wyatt?!" she called out urgently.
"All good!" a voice coughed from within the haze. Wyatt, a young man with goggles perched on his head, emerged from the smoke and hit the switch for the exhaust fan. As the smoke began to clear, he removed his goggles and approached Tessa. "I put a little too much oomph and not enough pizazz into that one," he explained with a sheepish grin. His eyes then flicked to the unimpressed woman standing behind Tessa. Leaning closer, he pointed at Victoria and whispered, "Is that her?"
Tessa playfully pushed Wyatt. "You were supposed to wait for me!" She then turned to Victoria, introducing her with a warm smile. "Yes, that's Victoria. Victoria Baywing, this is Wyatt Fyre. He's our resident Warlock and combustions specialist... most of the time."
Wyatt took offense, his brows knitting together. "Hey! The reason for the exhaust system and sprinklers in here is because of you and not me."
Tessa had to give him that. “Touche.”
Victoria barely had time to process the whirlwind of events. One moment there was an explosion, and the next, she was being introduced to a Warlock who looked like a skinny teenager. Instead of responding immediately, she walked around the table, examining the experimental setup. It appeared they were trying to add explosives to Runed arrows. "I have many questions," she finally said.
"About Wyatt or our experiments?" Tessa asked, joining Victoria at the table.
Victoria looked up, her expression a mix of curiosity and exasperation. "Yes."
Wyatt quickly scrambled over to them, puffing out his chest with pride. "I'll take it from here, Tessa." He adjusted his overalls and continued, "You are in the presence of one of the few Pyromancer Warlocks left in existence. My powers are all fire and combustion based, and I've lived here pretty much all my life. I was taken in by Dimitri Riverblade when I was a kid after he wiped out the Vamps who kidnapped me."
Tessa picked up the story. "Since Dimitri is his dad, that makes Wyatt here pretty much my cousin because Dimitri was my father's Parabatai and is my guardian." Just then, a tall Shadowhunter with a quiver of arrows on his back walked in. His face was stoic yet firm. "Speak of the devil," Tessa grinned and rushed over to give Dimitri a hug. "Good mission?"
Dimitri hugged Tessa back, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "Yes," he replied simply, then turned his attention to Wyatt. "I just got back and you're already blowing things up? What was it this time? Too snazzy?"
"Too much oomph, not enough pizazz," Wyatt explained, looking a bit sheepish again.
Dimitri shook his head with a light smile and hugged his son. He then turned to Victoria, his expression serious. "And you must be Victoria Baywing – the Gemini's Parabatai."
“I was,” Victoria answered, crossing her arms as she sized him up. She then said the first thing that came to her mind upon noticing the quiver of arrows on his back. “Your name is Riverblade and you use a bow?” Her tone was teasing to say the least.
Dimitri's face remained stoic. "I'm a rebel," he replied dryly. He turned back to Wyatt and Tessa. "How is your other project coming along?"
"Now that's coming way better!" Wyatt said excitedly, pulling out a metallic doorframe covered in wires, buttons, and lights.
“What is that for?” Victoria wanted to know this for many reasons, one of which being she wanted to know what Tessa was getting herself into.
"If it works, it'll be a portal doorway. Warlock Portals can get hacked, for lack of a better term, based on where the person is thinking of. But with these, once the coordinates are entered and Runed to lock them in, the Portal will only go to that one specific place," Tessa explained. “What makes it better is that it doesn’t have to be somewhere they’ve been before.”
Victoria walked around the doorway, trying to understand how it was powered. "What's the power supply?"
"Fire!" Wyatt cackled, then cleared his throat and added more seriously, "Angelic energy. Basically, you just charge it up, and it will hold the charge for at least a year before needing another."
Dimitri looked pleased. "The Clave will be pleased to hear this is coming along well. Any idea when it will be completed?"
"We were actually going to test it out today," Tessa explained.
"Test it out how exactly?" Victoria asked, concerned about the potential risks.
"Well, Wyatt was going to set a location, power it up, and I was going to give it a whirl," Tessa said excitedly.
"Oh hell no, you're not," Victoria stated firmly. "You are not entering an experimental portal alone."
Dimitri got defensive. "I wouldn't let her go alone."
"And why should I trust you? I met you two seconds ago," Victoria shot back.
Wyatt stepped in, leading Tessa away. "Let's go take a break. Mommy and Daddy are in a fight."
Tessa giggled and called over her shoulder, "We'll bring you back something to eat," before leaving the lab with Wyatt.
Dimitri's face hardened as he locked eyes with Victoria. "If you think that you are going to swoop in here and try to dictate Tessa's life and her decisions, you've got another thing coming."
Victoria stood her ground. "Tessa is my family – the only family I have left in the world. I am not going to let anything happen to her."
"She is my family, too," Dimitri replied. "I have been raising her ever since her parents died in the Uprising. I don't care what kind of distant bloodline connection you have with her, Tessa isn't yours to control."
"I don't want to control her," Victoria fiercely answered, "I want to protect her."
Dimitri scoffed a bit before saying, “From where I’m standing – same thing.” With that said, he walked out of the lab leaving Victoria alone for her to mull over his words, if she’d even bother to.
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When Tessa and Wyatt returned to the lab, they found Victoria diligently inscribing intricate Runes onto one of their explosive arrows. Wyatt quickly set the tray of food down on a nearby counter and rounded the table to get a better look. His eyes widened with curiosity. "I have never seen Runes like that. What Rune is that?"
Tessa promptly joined them, leaning in to inspect the unfamiliar Runes. She furrowed her brow and admitted, "I have no idea what those are." Turning her head to look up at Victoria, who was still meticulously drawing the Runes, Tessa pointed and asked, "What are those?"
"They will help contain the combustion," Victoria replied without looking up. "Make it more concentrated and more powerful." She paused in her work and finally met Tessa's gaze. "You're not the only one in the Baywing bloodline who likes to make things go boom. Nathaniel, my Parabatai, had the ability to create new Runes. This is one of his creations."
Wyatt practically vibrated with anticipation, barely able to contain his excitement. "Oh boy, I cannot wait to see my dad try those out. I'm gonna go get him!" Without another word, he darted out of the lab.
Tessa moved around to the other side of the table, leaning on it as she looked at Victoria thoughtfully. "So, what's the story with you and the Gemini? How did you become his Parabatai?"
Victoria sighed, leaning on the table to meet Tessa's eyes. "That's a long story, but the gist of it is, when I saw him... saw how alone he was... I knew I couldn't let him be alone forever."
Tessa smiled warmly. "So it was Parabatai at first sight?"
Victoria laughed softly, a sound that seemed to fill the room with warmth. "Sure, something like that. I'll tell you the whole story another time."
"I look forward to that," Tessa said sincerely. Having Victoria here felt right. It felt like her family was complete again, something she hadn't felt in a long time. "So, tell me more about you making things go boom." She wiggled her eyebrows with a grin.
They were interrupted when Dimitri returned to the lab with Wyatt in tow. "Lakeleaf wants the Portal to be tested now. He's going to Idris tomorrow and wants to present the progress report to the Clave."
"Who the hell is Lakeleaf?" Victoria asked, not recognizing the name.
"The head of the LA Institute," Tessa groaned. "He's an a..."
Dimitri cut her off with a warning, "Watch it."
Tessa held up her hands in mock innocence, her tone matching her expression. "All I was going to say was he's an abrasive personality."
Victoria pursed her lips, catching Tessa's drift. "So he's an ass?"
Wyatt jumped in eagerly. "Oh, definitely." He received a warning look from Dimitri for his comment, so he quickly changed the subject. "So... who's ready to test the Portal?"
Tessa instantly shot up her hand, clapping excitedly. "Let me gear up, and then I'll be ready. Just in case things get hinky, I want to be prepared." She hurried off to do just that.
"I'll do the same," Dimitri said, then turned to Wyatt. "We'll go once you're ready to power it up."
"I'm going too," Victoria announced, her tone making it clear she wasn't going to budge.
Dimitri let out a deep exhale. "That's not necessary."
"Didn't you just give me a whole lecture about not controlling others' actions?" Victoria smirked as she walked by. "You may want to start taking your own medicine." She patted his shoulder and left the lab to head to the armory with Tessa.
Dimitri watched Victoria leave, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Wyatt caught this and couldn't resist teasing. "Oooo, Daddy's falling for Mommy," he voiced in a playful, sing-song manner, adding a shoulder wiggle for emphasis.
Dimitri narrowed his eyes at Wyatt, pointing a warning finger before picking up a biscuit from the food tray and tossing it at him. "Get that Portal ready."
Wyatt caught the biscuit with ease, toasted it in his palm, and took a bite, saluting Dimitri with a mouthful of food. "Yes, sir."
Dimitri scoffed a chuckle and left the room to prepare himself as well.
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As Wyatt powered up the portal doorway, a soft hum filled the lab. Sparks of energy began to dance around the frame, casting an eerie purple glow. Victoria stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, watching the process with a skeptical expression. "I want to go on record and say this is a very bad idea."
"Noted," Wyatt replied, not missing a beat as he opened the panel for the coordinates. With a mischievous grin, he asked, "So, where do y'all want to go? Paris? Hawaii?"
"How about down the block," Dimitri interjected, his tone leaving no room for debate. "Baby steps."
"You’re no fun," Tessa quipped, a playful lilt in her voice. She adjusted her gear, looking slightly disappointed. "Why did we all gear up if we're just going down the block?"
"As you said," Dimitri replied seriously, "Just in case."
Tessa shook her head with a mock 'tsk', a wry smile playing on her lips. "Used my own words against me. Good one, old man."
Dimitri raised an eyebrow at the 'old man' comment but chose to let it slide, instead focusing on the task at hand.
The portal doorway powered up fully, a swirling purple vortex materializing within the frame. Wyatt stepped back, satisfied with the result. He went over to Dimitri and pulled him into a quick hug. "This is for just in case, too."
Dimitri returned the hug, his voice warm yet firm. "I’ll see you soon, Kiddo."
Wyatt hoped Dimitri's confidence wasn't misplaced. Despite all the calculations indicating everything should be fine, a nagging worry gnawed at him. He then turned to Tessa, pulling her into a hug as well. "Alright! Let’s do this!"
Wyatt stepped aside, giving the trio space. "But hold hands, just in case. I’ll keep the doorway open so you’ll be able to pop right back."
The three complied, forming a chain with Dimitri at the front, Tessa in the middle, and Victoria bringing up the rear. They cautiously approached the portal, the swirling energy pulling at their senses. Dimitri took a deep breath and stepped through first, disappearing into the vortex.
Tessa followed, her grip on Victoria's hand tightening briefly as she stepped through. Victoria hesitated for a heartbeat, her mind racing with a million what-ifs. But she steeled herself and stepped through as well, the portal swallowing her whole.
As soon as Victoria vanished, the portal doorway emitted a sharp beep and flickered ominously. Wyatt rushed over, his eyes scanning the control panel. Something was wrong—the coordinates had shifted. The normal blue light of the numbers had turned an unfamiliar purple, indicating a completely different location. Panic surged through him as he whispered, "Oh no... where the hell did they go?"
He frantically began adjusting the controls, trying to trace the new coordinates. The hum of the machinery grew louder, and his mind raced with calculations and worst-case scenarios. "Come on, come on," Wyatt muttered under his breath, his fingers flying over the buttons.
Seconds felt like hours as he worked, the lab filled with the tension of uncertainty. He tried to stabilize the portal, but it fizzled out and the coordinates disappeared. Wyatt took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. "I hope you guys are okay," he whispered, staring through the now inactive doorway.
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When Dimitri, Tessa, and Victoria exited the portal, they found themselves in an opulent residential bathroom. The room was vast, with gleaming marble floors and walls, and every fixture seemed to be made of the finest materials. Gold-trimmed mirrors and an oversized bathtub added to the extravagance.
Tessa couldn't help but laugh. "By the Angel, did Wyatt send us to someone’s house?"
"There are no houses down the block from the Institute," Dimitri replied, notching an arrow into his bow. His eyes scanned the room warily. "Something’s not right."
"I’ll say," Victoria added, gesturing behind her. "There’s no portal to take us back."
Dimitri and Tessa both turned to see she was right. For good measure, Tessa went to the spot where they had exited and waved her hand around. "Okay, no big deal. Let’s just get outside, figure out where we are, and call Wyatt to let him know what’s going on." She was trying hard to remain optimistic.
Dimitri pulled out his Stele, ready to activate his invisibility Rune, but nothing happened. "What the hell?" he muttered, shaking the Stele.
"Try mine," Tessa offered, handing him her Stele, but it too remained inactive.
Victoria quickly tried her own Stele, with the same result. "I knew this was a bad idea," she said, catching Dimitri’s look and waving a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s not helping."
Dimitri took the lead, signaling them to follow. "Let’s go and stay close." He cautiously led them out of the bathroom, intent on figuring out their location as quickly as possible.
They entered an elaborate bedroom. Dimitri headed straight for the window and moved aside the heavy curtains. All he could see was a dense forest and a mountain in the distance. He didn’t recognize the area at all. "Does this place look familiar to you?" he asked, glancing back at Victoria.
Victoria went to another window, parting the curtains. "No. I have no idea where we are."
Tessa, curious, went over to a bureau. She opened the drawers, hoping to find something that might indicate their location. The first two drawers were filled with clothes haphazardly thrown in, but the bottom one was locked. She managed to open it, revealing a weapons cache containing a pair of Blades and an array of throwing stars. "Okay, I think we’re in a Shadowhunter’s house." She stepped aside to show them the cache.
Dimitri was the first to examine the cache. When he touched the lid, it beeped, and a message in glowing letters appeared: 'Identity Confirmed'. The lid unlocked and slid backward, providing access to the weapons.
“Was that cache specifically coded to you or could any Shadowhunter open it?” Victoria wanted to know because this was getting all the more suspicious as time went on and they hadn’t even been there for five minutes yet.
"I have no idea." Dimitri pulled out one of the Blades to inspect it. Unlike the Blades at the Institute, this one had Runes that glowed purple when he touched it. "That’s not normal."
Victoria took out the other Blade and found it reacted similarly. "Definitely not normal," she muttered.
Tessa grabbed the throwing stars, just in case. "Should we keep snooping or get out of here?"
"Let’s get out of here," Dimitri decided.
Victoria nodded. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m with him. Let’s go."
Moving swiftly yet cautiously, they exited the bedroom. As they entered a long hallway, Tessa noticed a statue at the end of the hall holding what appeared to be the Mortal Instruments. However, these were slightly different from any other depiction she had seen. "Guys… I think we’re in an Institute."
"If you’re right, then where is everyone?" Victoria adjusted her grip on the Blade, looking around warily. "This place feels abandoned but..." she trailed off.
"Active," Dimitri finished for her. "Let’s keep going."
As they moved down the hall, Victoria stopped at a table covered with pictures of Shadowhunters. One picture stood out to her. She picked up the frame and turned to Dimitri and Tessa. "Are you two sure you’ve never been here before?"
"Yeah," Tessa answered, "Why?"
Victoria turned the picture around to show them. Dimitri and Tessa were in the picture although Tessa’s hair was much shorter than present and Dimitri’s scruff was a full beard. “Then explain this.”
Dimitri and Tessa looked at the picture, then at each other, then back at the picture. "Anyone else thinking that we accidentally got sent to an alternate universe or something?" Tessa asked.
Dimitri set the picture down. "If this is an Institute, then we need to get to Ops and find a portal to get out of here now."
No one argued. They quickly took off down the hall, still cautious but now more expedient.
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After determining they were in the residential part of what seemed to be an Institute, Dimitri, Victoria, and Tessa found an exit to a courtyard that connected to another section of the building. Drawing on her memory of a similar Institute, Victoria figured that Ops would likely be located in that other part. They started to cross the courtyard, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
By now, it was completely dark, and they still hadn’t seen another soul—Shadowhunter or otherwise. Halfway across the courtyard, an unnatural, fierce wind began to blow, forcing them to pick up the pace. They barely made it inside the other building before the wind could sweep them away.
As soon as they closed the doors, they turned around to see someone Victoria vaguely recognized, though not in this form. "Simon?!" she exclaimed. He was covered in Shadowhunter Runes and definitely wasn’t the Vampire she had once met.
Simon reacted by pointing his Blade at Tessa. "What are you doing with her, Riv?" he demanded. "Have you switched sides?!"
Victoria and Dimitri immediately moved to shield Tessa, but they didn’t have time to respond before numerous people burst through the windows, sending shattered glass flying everywhere.
When the newcomers landed on their feet, Simon shouted, "They have Silverbrook!" This declaration activated their weapons and sent them charging forward.
Dimitri and Victoria were the first to engage, fending off attacks from the Shadowhunters. When one of them lunged at Tessa, Victoria swiftly threw one of her axes at him. It might not have been charged with Angelic energy, but it was still an axe and it would leave a mark.
Just as it seemed the newcomers would gain the upper hand, a familiar voice shouted, "Stop!" All the newcomers froze in their tracks, and even Simon halted his advance towards Tessa.
Simon, wide-eyed, looked over to see another Dimitri Riverblade entering through the broken window. "Riv?" Simon stammered. "Who are you?" he demanded, glaring at the new arrivals. "And where did you find her?" He pointed firmly at Tessa Silverbrook.
"Look, okay, I know this sounds crazy, but I think we’re from an alternate universe," Victoria began to explain. "I am Victoria Baywing, this is Dimitri Riverblade, and that’s Tessa Silverbrook. The three of us went into an experimental portal and came out in a bathroom upstairs."
Before the other Dimitri could react, a female voice said, "She’s telling the truth. I see no lie." A woman pulled back her hood, revealing reptilian scales around her purple eyes—her Warlock mark.
The other Dimitri, now identified as Riv, looked back at her. "Are you sure, Trick?"
Trick nodded. "I am certain. They are telling the truth—this Theresa isn’t the one we are looking for."
Riv scanned the room and ordered, "Lower your weapons." Once his comrades had done so, he introduced himself. "It seems you already know who I am, but to keep things separate, you can call me Riv. This is my daughter Patricia, but you can call her Trick, and it seems you already know Simon."
Victoria nodded. "He’s a Vampire where I’m from. Definitely not a Shadowhunter."
Tessa cautiously moved closer to Victoria and Dimitri. "Why do I get the feeling that you want to kill me?"
"Not you, apparently," Simon replied, crossing his arms. "Terri."
Riv elaborated. "Terri is our version of Theresa Silverbrook. Long story short—she did some bad things and we need to find her before they get worse."
"Define bad things," Dimitri asked, wanting to be prepared.
Simon scoffed. "Released Hell on Earth. Literally."
Tessa winced. "Yeah, that’s bad."
Riv helped the Shadowhunter who had been struck by Victoria’s axe after his healing Rune had been activated. "It’s clear your weapons don’t work here. You’re going to need more than a couple of stray Blades if you want to survive." He looked over to another Shadowhunter. "Heartgrove, see if there’s anything left in the armory," he said, then glanced at Dimitri’s quiver. "Especially a bow and quiver. Take your boyfriend with you."
Savannah Heartgrove nodded and took hold of Simon’s arm before heading off to the armory.
"Look, I’m sorry, but whatever is going on in this world is your business. We just want to find a portal and get sent back to ours," Victoria stated, feeling for them but not willing to risk their lives without a clear way back to their own world.
"If an experimental portal brought you here, then it’s likely an experimental one will be needed to send you back," Riv pointed out. "And to find one of those, you’ll need to come with us."
Tessa interjected, "Excuse us," and linked arms with Victoria and Dimitri, pulling them aside. Once out of earshot, she spoke in hushed yet frantic tones. "Are we trusting them? Are we not trusting them? What’s the plan here, because it feels like other people are gonna want to kill me on sight thinking I’m the other me."
"The rules are different here," Victoria replied, weighing the options. "I think we’re gonna need to stick with them to get what we need and get out."
Dimitri had been processing everything, too. After Victoria gave her opinion, he echoed her previous words. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m with her.”
Tessa exhaled deeply. "I was afraid you two were gonna agree on that."
Victoria turned to Riv. "Are you able to guarantee that no one will attack Tessa thinking she’s your Terri?"
"The Shadowhunters you’ve seen here are the only ones here. Anything and anyone else you encounter where we’re going will attack regardless of who you are," Riv explained, just as Savannah and Simon returned. "Any luck?" he asked.
"There was an axe, a staff, and a bow with a full quiver," Savannah presented. "And Simon found a few Steles."
Simon handed out the Steles. "Who wants what?"
Victoria, Tessa, and Dimitri each took the weapons they thought would be most useful. Tessa took the Blade Victoria had held, while Victoria took the axe, and Dimitri grabbed the bow and quiver. He kept the arrows from their world as well, just in case.
Now that they were all armed as well as they could be, Dimitri asked, "Where are we going?"
Riv’s answer was simple and precise. "Down."
As soon as Riv said the word, Savannah opened a wall that concealed two large metal doors. They hissed open, revealing a dimly lit passage beyond. "We’re ready," she announced, stepping aside.
"Let’s move out," Riv commanded, taking the lead with Savannah and Simon. Three other Shadowhunters positioned themselves behind Tessa, Victoria, and Dimitri. Trick brought up the rear, ensuring everyone was through before the doors hissed shut behind her.
"Where are we going exactly?" Tessa asked as they followed Riv down the corridor.
"This Institute has subterranean levels," Riv explained, descending a long set of wide stairs. Each of them was armed and ready for anything that might lurk below. "We need to get to central ops. That’s the only system that will have the locations of what you’re looking for."
"You mentioned experimental portals earlier," Victoria said, trying to grasp the full picture. "So the Clave had you guys working on them here too?"
Riv stopped mid-step and looked back at them, his expression grim. "The Clave had nothing to do with it. Terri acted alone." His voice softened momentarily, showing a hint of hurt before he resumed his firm tone. "Trick, anything?"
Trick moved to the front of the group, scanning their surroundings. "So far, nothing, but stay alert," she advised.
As they continued descending, Tessa leaned towards Dimitri and whispered, "So in this world, the other you adopted a different Warlock... trippy."
Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "Out of everything that’s happened so far, that’s the part you find trippy?"
"If I focused on everything that I found trippy about this entire situation, I’d probably go catatonic," Tessa admitted. The group quickened their pace down the stairs that eventually led to an underground platform… a train platform.
"What the hell is that?" Victoria exclaimed as the train came into view. She glared at Riv. "If you say that’s a train, I swear I will throw you under it."
Riv chuckled briefly. "I see what you see in her," he commented to Dimitri before turning to a Shadowhunter on the train. "Status report?"
"Power’s down," the Shadowhunter replied.
"Then fix it!" Riv ordered.
"I’m on it," Savannah responded, hopping onto the train, activating a Witchlight and her agility Rune. She jumped down to inspect the power lines beneath the train. Reconnecting the cables, she thought she heard something and crouched lower to get a better look. She activated her sight-enhancing Rune but saw nothing. Just as she stood up, Simon’s upside-down head appeared beside hers, causing her to jump.
"Done yet, jumpy?" he teased before kissing her.
Savannah returned the kiss, then finished reconnecting the final piece on the track. With the power restored, Simon pulled himself back into the train, and Savannah followed.
Now that they were all aboard, the doors were closed and the train was put into gear to start moving down the track.
Now that they were all aboard, the doors closed and the train rumbled to life, moving slowly down the track. Dimitri, Tessa, and Victoria sat on a crate within the train car, facing Riv. "Are you ever going to tell us exactly what the mission is here?" Dimitri asked.
Riv saw Simon subtly shaking his head 'no' but chose to explain anyway. "We are here to find Terri and make her fix what she has done. She’s the only one capable of it."
"Is there anything I can do?" Tessa offered. "I mean, Terri is this world’s me, after all."
Riv gave her a wistful smile. "She used to be a lot like you," he reminisced. "But no, there’s nothing you can do. Terri was envious of Warlocks and their ability to use magic. She coveted the ability, and it corrupted her. Terri managed to find a way to give herself magic, but the cost was allowing Demons to enter our realm freely."
"So there’s an apocalypse outside?" Tessa asked, trying to wrap her head around it.
It was clear Riv wasn’t going to hold back, so Simon added, "That’s what we’re trying to stop."
Trick continued, "The Demons that Terri granted access to are within the lower levels of the Institute."
Riv concluded their briefing, "We get in, get Terri, find your portal, and get the hell out."
"So… you don’t want to kill her?" Victoria queried. "Because the reaction of your people upstairs when they saw Tessa indicated otherwise."
"Contain by any means necessary, yes. Kill… not if I can help it," Riv said, looking directly at Dimitri. "If your relationship with Tessa is anything like mine was with Terri, then you must understand how deeply I care for her." When Dimitri slowly nodded in reply, Riv turned to Tessa. "I give you my word that I will do my best to keep you safe."
"We’re almost there," Savannah announced, glancing at the map on her tablet.
Trick looked at Victoria and asked, "What were you enchanted with?"
Victoria blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"You were once enchanted, but it’s not there anymore." Trick leaned closer, examining her. "I can see it."
Victoria hesitated before answering, "Long story short, I was immortal once. My Parabatai was immortal and I shared it with him. When he died, I became mortal again."
Trick looked intrigued. "Who could possibly have been your Parabatai if they were immortal?"
"Yeah, I’m not going to answer that," Victoria replied, concerned that revealing too much could be dangerous.
"Fair enough." Trick leaned back just as the train came to a stop. "Duty calls," she murmured, leaving the train with Savannah and Simon to help open the Warded doors leading to the Institute’s lower levels.
As they disembarked, Tessa asked, "Is anyone else worried that we might not make it back to our world?"
Victoria stopped and faced Tessa, holding her hands tightly. "I will not let that happen, do you hear me? I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure you make it back home. You will not be stuck here, and you sure as hell won’t be dying here."
Dimitri placed a reassuring hand on Tessa’s arm. "Same goes for me, Tessa. One way or another, you will make it home."
Riv observed their moment, thinking about his relationship with Terri before everything went wrong. He was pulled from his memories when Trick appeared at the top of a nearby staircase. "The Wards are down. We can access the lower levels now," she called out.
Victoria walked up the stairs beside Riv. "So, just to make sure I understand completely, the mission here is to clear out the Demons down here before they make it above ground, capture Terri, and find the experimental portal?"
"Simply put, yes," Riv replied, not meeting her eyes.
"Why do I have the feeling that there’s something you’re not saying here?" Victoria pressed, sensing he was holding back.
"Because you’re right," Riv admitted but didn’t elaborate further, picking up the pace as they passed through the doors leading to the lower levels.
"This is an odd feeling," Victoria remarked to Dimitri as he caught up with her.
“What is?” There was so much going on so he wanted to be sure he knew what she was talking about.
"I shockingly find myself trusting you, but him," Victoria pointed at Riv, "that’s a whole other story."
After entering the well-lit entryway, they found the rooms beyond were pitch black. This prompted Simon to activate his night vision Rune. As the Rune flared to life, he cautiously stepped into the darkness, his eyes scanning for the light switch. It took a couple of minutes, but he was finally able to locate it. “Found it!” he called out triumphantly, then flipped the switch to illuminate the room so everyone could enter.
The room was clearly a lobby, given the numerous elevator doors and large windows that created the illusion of being outside. If it weren’t for the flickering lights, Tessa would have thought they were in LA itself. “I get the sentiment, but I doubt that helps with claustrophobia,” she remarked, glancing around.
“You’d be surprised,” Savannah commented, standing at the ready just like the others. Each one had their weapon poised, ready to react at a moment’s notice.
Trick noticed Victoria struggling to find a good grip and balance with the large axe she had chosen. Recalling how Victoria had used throwing axes upstairs, Trick realized the larger weapon would likely be quite different for her. “I can transfer the power to your throwing axes if you would like,” Trick offered.
Victoria was taken aback. “Seriously?” She had never heard of a Warlock possessing such an ability.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t serious,” Trick replied, approaching Victoria to perform the transfer.
“We don’t have time for this, Trick,” Riv said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
Trick wasn’t deterred. “I would like everyone to have an advantage if possible. Besides, if you hadn’t spoken to me, I would have already been done.” She took the pair of throwing axes from Victoria in one hand and the large axe in the other, transferring the power. Now the throwing axes that Victoria had brought from her world had the Angelic power of the large one, and their Runes glowed purple in her grasp.
“Now you,” Trick turned to Dimitri. “I can take the power from the staff Savannah has and put it into the arrows you brought with you if you trust me with them.”
Dimitri saw no reason to refuse the offer of enhanced ammunition. He handed over his quiver and watched as Trick transferred the power from the staff into his arrows—some of which were the explosive ones Wyatt and Tessa had designed, though he didn’t draw attention to that detail.
With the transfer complete, Trick returned the quiver to Dimitri and looked around at the others. “Anything else? You?” she asked, gesturing towards Tessa.
“Unless you’ve got a pair of knuckles, I’m good with the Blade,” Tessa replied, only to be met by Savannah reaching into her pocket and pulling out a set of Runed knuckles. Tessa accepted them without question. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Savannah replied.
Meanwhile, Simon and the others pried open the elevator doors, only to discover that all the elevators had snapped cables and had fallen to the bottom of the shaft. “Hope everyone is in shape,” he quipped as he turned back to the group. “Looks like we’re taking the stairs.”
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The group descended the expansive, winding metallic staircase, their footsteps echoing through the vast, open space. Upon reaching the desired level, they walked down a well-lit hallway, only to find the labs ahead filled with brown, murky water. The glass walls of the labs kept the water from spilling into the hallway, but the sight was unsettling.
"That’s going to slow us down," Savannah commented, consulting her tablet. "The direct path to central Ops takes us straight through these labs."
Riv nodded, processing the information. "Simon, Savannah, go take a closer look and see how bad the flooding is. Trick, see if you can find us an alternate route."
Simon and Savannah set off to scout the flooded labs while Trick sat cross-legged on the metallic floor, closing her eyes and tapping rhythmically with her fingers.
“What is she doing?” Victoria asked Riv because it was clear by now that this Warlock was unlike any she had ever met before.
"Think of it like echolocation," Riv explained. "Trick can create a mental map based on the vibrations she senses across the floor."
"Wow," Victoria said, genuinely impressed. "I certainly could have used her help a time or two back home."
Riv's expression softened. "If my world can’t be saved but you can make it back to yours... will you take Trick with you?" He glanced over at Trick, who was deeply focused. "She deserves better than this."
Victoria looked back at Dimitri, silently seeking his opinion. When he nodded in agreement, she turned to Riv. "If it comes to that and she agrees, then yes. We’ll take her back with us."
"Thank you," Riv replied, his relief evident. His gratitude was genuine.
Before Victoria could respond, she jumped, startled by the sight of a woman’s body floating up from the murky water and pressing against the glass. "Bloody hell!" she exclaimed, readying her throwing axe. The woman remained motionless, floating eerily, her body covered in Runes—clearly a Shadowhunter.
Victoria turned to Riv, pointing at the floating corpse with her axe. "Is this what you weren’t saying? I thought only Demons and Terri were down here, not corpses."
"Every Shadowhunter stationed in the lower levels was killed. Did you really think a portal from hell opened up down here and no one got hurt?" Riv replied, his tone tinged with bitterness. He hadn’t specified the number of deaths because there were simply too many, but he had assumed some casualties were implied.
Victoria scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. Dimitri seized the moment to ask, "How do you know Terri is still alive?"
"They won’t hurt her," Riv said quietly, turning away. "She’s one of them now."
Just then, Trick opened her eyes and stood up. "I found another way, but it will take some time.” She took Riv’s tablet and pulled up the map to show him just in case something happened to her so he’d know where to go without her.  “If we double back and cut through the, oh that’s what that room is, the dining hall, we’ll be back on track."
As she spoke, Savannah and Simon returned. "It’s a no-go down there," Savannah reported. "The whole level is flooded."
Riv nodded, accepting the information. "Alright, let’s get moving." He led the group to double back and follow Trick’s newly discovered path.
As they walked, Savannah lingered at the back of the group. She took a moment to address the floating corpse of the female Shadowhunter. "Hail and farewell," she whispered, offering a brief, solemn salute before catching up with the others. She didn't notice the corpse's eyes snapping open, revealing pure black orbs, or the hand with clawed fingernails pressing against the glass.
The group continued their trek, the weight of the unknown pressing on them. They moved with purpose, each step bringing them closer to their goal, yet also deeper into danger.
------------------------------------------
The group doubled back and made their way to the dining hall. This door, like the others, was sealed with Wards. However, between their Runes and Trick’s magic, they managed to disarm the Wards and gain entry. Upon entering, they were immediately taken aback. This room looked nothing like a dining hall. It was filled with numerous containers connected to hoses and wiring, emitting mist or some kind of exhaust that made the floor appear covered in fog.
“I thought the map said this was a dining hall?” Trick said, glancing at Riv in confusion as they looked around.
Savannah pulled up the map on her tablet and confirmed, “It’s clearly labeled as a dining hall on the map.”
“You didn’t pick any of this up when you did your thing?” Dimitri asked Trick, his tone slightly suspicious. If she could find the path and identify rooms, why hadn’t she detected this?
“It doesn’t work like that,” Trick replied defensively. “I can sense the outlines of rooms and hallways, but I have no idea what’s inside them.”
“Looks like more experiments were going on down here than just the portal,” Victoria commented, scanning the room and making sure Tessa and Dimitri were close in case something bad happened.
Riv didn’t like the implication but couldn’t argue against it. “Alright, enough. This doesn’t change the mission. Stay close and keep moving.” He led the way once again, armed and ready for anything.
Tessa knew she should stay close to the group, but curiosity got the better of her. She moved towards one of the containment units and peered inside. She gasped upon seeing some sort of creature connected to hoses, tubes, and injector needles. “What the hell went on down here?”
“Above your paygrade,” Simon said from behind her, causing her to jump in surprise. “And mine, apparently. Now let’s go.”
Tessa hoped desperately that Terri hadn’t been involved in whatever horrors had taken place here. If Terri wasn’t responsible, did that mean this world’s Clave was? Were these Shadowhunters really to be trusted? Worry and doubt began to gnaw at her, but one thing was certain—she wasn’t going to stray from Victoria and Dimitri again.
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Tessa sat down next to Simon as he worked on the computers with Savannah in the room outside the hall leading to central Ops. They explained that the defenses set up at this point were all technological and had nothing to do with magic. Their task was to access the systems and bypass the protections that had been put in place when the Demons were released.
When Tessa rejoined Victoria and Dimitri in the far corner of the room, Victoria whispered, “Is it just me, or is it weird that we were told this place is crawling with Demons but we haven’t seen one yet? Not counting whatever the hell was in those containment units.”
Dimitri crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. “It’s definitely not just you—this doesn’t make sense. There’s something else going on here besides the Demons.”
Victoria nodded in agreement and walked over to Riv, who was waiting with a couple of Shadowhunters and Trick by the door leading to the hallway to central Ops. “Riv,” she addressed him, tilting her head. “Can we talk for a second?”
“Sure,” he said, joining her on the other side of the room. “What is it?”
“That’s what I want to ask you,” Victoria replied, crossing her arms and clearly expecting answers. “Where are all the so-called Demons? And what are we really doing here besides looking up where the experimental portal is?”
Riv’s silence irritated her. Victoria’s face hardened, and she asked more firmly, “What is going on here, Riv?”
In hushed tones, Riv responded, “I don’t know where the Demons are. I am as surprised and concerned as you are that we haven’t come across any yet. As for what we’re doing here, we’re not just looking for the portal pane to send you home, but also trying to get a lock on Terri’s exact location. She has blocked herself from tracking, but the systems in central Ops can locate her another way.”
Their conversation was cut short when Simon and Savannah both exclaimed, “Yes!” and clasped their hands together. Simon announced, “We’re in.” At that moment, the door opened, revealing the brightly lit hallway leading to central Ops.
The two Shadowhunters by the door prepared to go in first. They made their way down the hallway and reached the door, only to find it locked as well. “Toss down the transmitter,” one of them called out. Savannah retrieved it from her pocket and threw it down the hall. The Shadowhunter caught it and placed it on the door. “Get back to hacking, it’s not a Ward here either.”
Savannah rejoined Simon at the computer to hack in and transmit the unlock code. Just as they succeeded and the door to central Ops opened, the lights in the hallway switched from bright white to red. An alarm blared, and both the door to central Ops and the door leading out of the hallway slammed shut.
“What the hell?” Savannah muttered, then saw the screen flashing ‘Weapons System Activated’. “No, no, no,” she and Simon frantically started typing to try and deactivate what had been triggered.
“What’s going on?” Riv demanded as he stood behind them.
“It was a dormant system,” Simon explained. “It must have been triggered when the door was remotely opened.”
Trick looked through the window and gasped as she saw lasers generating and moving down the hall. “Get them out of there!” she shrieked, attempting to conjure up some magic to help, but to no avail.
Riv quickly went over to Trick and turned her away just before the lasers sliced through the Shadowhunters in the hallway.
“Done!” Savannah exclaimed, but it was too late.
Tessa was starting to panic. “I don’t like it here. I really don’t like it here. Please tell me there’s not an Institute like this in our world.”
“If there is, I’m burning it to the ground,” Victoria said seriously as she hugged Tessa, prompting Dimitri to add, “I’ll bring the matches.”
Now that the weapon was deactivated, the doors opened again. Trick immediately pulled Riv away from the hall. “You are not risking going down there! They can find their portal pane a different way and we can find Terri a different way. No one is going down there! The worst thing we were supposed to come upon was Demons, not laser beams from hell!”
Before Riv could even try to comfort Trick, Simon stood up and declared, “I’ll go. I missed the system during the sweep; I’ll go to make sure it’s safe.” He gave Savannah a kiss goodbye, just in case he didn’t make it back. “I love you,” he whispered to her before heading down the hall, not giving anyone a chance to stop him.
Simon moved cautiously, stepping carefully to avoid his fallen comrades. The guilt gnawed at him, but he had to make up for his mistake—he had to stay on mission.
Victoria turned to Tessa and Dimitri. “I’m going with him.”
Tessa immediately protested. “No, you’re not!”
Dimitri grabbed Victoria’s arm to stop her. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I need to see firsthand what’s going on here.” Victoria squeezed his hand on her arm before removing it. “I’ll be alright. I’ve survived worse than this.” That wasn’t entirely true, but she was determined to get answers.
Victoria caught up with a visibly shaking Simon in the middle of the hall. He looked surprised but relieved that he wasn’t going down there alone, especially that it wasn’t Savannah who had followed him. He didn’t say a word to her and continued down the hall to central Ops.
As soon as they entered the room, the door closed and sealed shut behind them. The room was almost empty, containing only a glowing trap door in the center of the floor and a large computer system at the back wall.
Victoria looked around the sparse room and commented, “I expected central Ops to be bigger than this.”
“Only the highest personnel are allowed in here. Under normal circumstances anyway.” Simon quickly went to the computer at the back and started searching for the portal pane and Terri’s location. As he typed away, he said, “I’m going to have to do a hard reboot on every system when I’m done, so get ready to book it out of here.”
Victoria didn’t understand the logic behind that. “Why?” When Simon didn’t answer, she went around the desk and grabbed his wrist to keep him from typing. “Why?” she asked more firmly.
Simon looked up at her and finally answered, “Because if I don’t, then nothing will be reset—the defenses Savannah and I hacked into to gain access to this room could affect the defenses elsewhere, giving the Demons down here easier access to the surface. When I hit the reset button, we have about 45 seconds to get out of this room and down that hall before those laser beams from hell fire up again.”
“Why would the Clave put that kind of system in here?” Victoria still hadn’t let go of him.
“I don’t know what kind of Clave you have where you’re from, but let’s just say ours isn’t so kind. They will do anything to protect what they deem to be the greater good.” Simon pulled his wrist free and resumed typing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to help you here, so let me do it.”
Victoria let out a huff and stepped away, going over to what looked like a glowing trap door in the center of the room. “Is that the Angelic power core down there?”
Simon didn’t need to look up to answer. “If I had to guess, yes.”
Well, that added more context to the insanely dangerous security system, but it didn’t change how much Victoria hated this place and wanted to get out.
“I’ve almost got it,” Simon said, then stopped as a purple hologram in the shape of Terri appeared in the center of the room. “What the hell…”
Victoria whipped around, eyes wide. “Terri?” she guessed, unsure of what was happening.
“Help her,” the hologram replied. “She needs you. You need to help her. I searched for so long and found you. You must help her.”
Victoria opened her mouth to say one thing but ended up saying something completely different. “Wait…hold on…did you somehow mess with the portal that sent us here?”
“Of course I did. I sent out my data across the dimensions looking for the one who could send someone here. You must help her. You must.” The hologram insisted. “This world will fall into oblivion if you do not.”
“I got it!” Simon declared. “System reboot commencing.”
“Do not reboot my systems. You will regret it. I will lose control,” the hologram warned.
“Piss off,” Simon replied, then hit the button, causing everything to shut down and turn pitch black. With his night vision Rune activated, he said, “We need to get out of here, now!”
They quickly opened the door and sprinted down the hall, making it through the other door just before the systems turned back on.
Victoria ran her hands through her hair, pointing back to central Ops. “There was a hologram of Terri in there. She…she’s the one who hacked into our portal or whatever to bring us here.”
Dimitri and Tessa rushed over to her. “What are you talking about?” Dimitri asked.
“She said she sent her data out to many dimensions looking for the one that could send someone here.” Victoria took a couple of breaths before continuing. “She was begging us to help Terri.”
“What else happened?” Dimitri asked, needing to know more.
“Nothing,” Victoria snapped, glaring at Simon. “This one over here told her to piss off before rebooting the systems. Her last words were that we’ll regret rebooting her systems because she will lose control.”
All eyes turned to Riv, who said honestly and regretfully, “I have no idea what’s going on.”
Simon sent the coordinates to all the tablets and pulled his armband tablet off to give it to Victoria. “The coordinates to the portal pane that matches the data signature that alerted us to your arrival are there. The second set is where Terri currently is.”
Riv opened up the coordinates and commented, “How is the portal pane not far from the Institute?” He scrolled to see the second set of coordinates. “Wait, this can’t be right. Terri is supposed to be here. Why do these coordinates show the DC Institute? How did she get out of here?”
“We can figure that out later,” Trick interjected. “Right now, let’s get out of here. We have everything we need, so let’s go.”
“Wait, that’s it? What about all the Demons that are supposedly down here? Aren’t we supposed to deal with them?” Tessa asked, looking around at everyone who seemed to be thinking the same thing. “What am I missing here?”
Riv voiced what everyone seemed to be thinking. “If Terri made it out, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Demons did too.”
Tessa quickly grasped what he was saying. “So that means the Demons are already wreaking havoc up top.”
Riv nodded. “And if there is more than one of her portal panes up there, we can expect a lot more than the ones that were brought here with the original one.” He looked around at the group. “Now if there are no more questions, we are leaving here. Now.”
--------------------------------------------
The group quickly returned to the so-called dining hall, which was filled with containment units, because it was their only way out. Midway through, Trick abruptly stopped them all. "Stop! Everyone get ready, they're coming!" she warned, her voice urgent. Trick could sense the evil auras approaching, and there were many.
The group halted and prepared themselves. They could hear footsteps echoing towards them—dozens of deceased Shadowhunters with claws and pitch-black eyes were making their way around the units, closing in on them.
"They're possessed!" Trick informed them, conjuring up magic, ready to fight.
"Oh shit," Tessa muttered as she readied herself. "Is this what that hologram meant by losing control? The system could no longer control where they could go?"
There wasn't time for an answer. The possessed Shadowhunters were closing in fast. Savannah was the first to be attacked, suffering a claw swipe that left stinging pain. She gritted her teeth and continued fighting them off with the others.
"There are too many of them!" Simon shouted as he impaled another Possessed, causing it to disintegrate.
Dimitri spotted flammable tanks off to the side and yelled, "Take cover!" He quickly pulled out one of the explosive arrows and fired it at the tanks. The resulting explosion of Angelic energy was powerful enough to take out several of the Possessed, creating an opening for the group to try to escape this area. However, the blast also split them up.
Riv found himself with Simon and Savannah but couldn't see Trick. "Trick!" he called out, firing arrows from atop a crate. "Dammit, Trick, where are you?!"
"I'm up here!" Trick shouted from atop one of the units behind him. She was using her magic to fend off the Possessed, but it only seemed to knock them back rather than destroy them. "It's like they're immune to my magic!" she called out. "It's only knocking them back!"
Meanwhile, Simon reached the doorway and began inputting the code for the door on his tablet, since they no longer had to worry about the Wards after the reboot. After what felt like an eternity, he finally entered the code and called out, "Let's get out of here!" But as the doors opened, a horde of Possessed grabbed him and pulled him in with them.
"I love you, Savannah," Simon managed to say before he was overwhelmed. Those were his last words as the Possessed took his life.
The others pulled Savannah away, forcing the doors shut and getting as far from the horde as possible. Her screams echoed in their minds as they fled the horrific scene, the weight of their loss heavy on their hearts but they couldn’t stop to process it – they had to get out of there.
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Elsewhere, Dimitri, Victoria, and Tessa navigated the rooms that were offshoots of the dining hall, their footsteps echoing as they stayed close to one another. They stumbled upon another exit that led into one of the many labs in the facility. The lab appeared empty, prompting Victoria to voice her thoughts, “In all my years, I have never seen possession like that. If the possessed are like this, then what the hell are the Demons going to be like?”
Dimitri, his face set with determination, replied, “I hope we don’t find out. We just need to get to the surface, find the portal doorway, and get the hell out of this world. And when we get back, we are destroying the one in our world,” leaving no room for doubt.
Tessa, fully onboard with Dimitri's plan, nodded and added, “You are getting no argument from me. And once we tell Wyatt what happened, he will definitely be on board, too.”
As they ventured further into the lab, Victoria pulled out the armband tablet that Simon had given her and began navigating through the maps of the sublevels. After a few moments, she managed to pull up a layout, studying it intently. “I’m guessing all the doors have been unlocked, which means the flooding should have receded enough for us to walk through. I’ll try to find the quickest way out of here,” she said, her eyes fixed on the screen.
Tessa’s voice broke through Victoria's concentration, her concern evident. “What about the others? Are we just going to leave them behind?”
“We’ll all meet back up top. They have the same map we do,” Victoria reassured her, though she couldn’t shake off the pang of guilt. Her priority was making sure Tessa got home safe.
As they ventured deeper into the lab, they came across kennel-like cages that had been broken open. The creatures that had once been confined were now roaming free. Tessa stopped in her tracks, a chill running down her spine. “Please tell me we’re not going to cross paths with Demon dogs.”
“Why would there be dogs in the Institute?” Victoria asked, puzzled.
Dimitri, considering everything they had encountered so far, responded, “Why would anything we’ve found be in the Institute?” He glanced over at Victoria, who was still studying the tablet. “Any luck with the way out?”
Victoria, still focused on the glitching map, replied, “According to this, if we keep going through this lab, it’ll lead to another hall that should be a straight shot back to where we came in.” She was about to take the lead but stopped abruptly when she heard a tapping sound approaching them—tapping that sounded like the claws of an animal.
The noise made all three of them turn, weapons at the ready. A pack of possessed dogs emerged from the shadows, their eyes pitch black, teeth and fangs sharper than any normal canine, fur gone, and flesh looking torn and decayed. The sight made Tessa whimper, “Remind me to listen to you the next time you say something is a bad idea.”
“I intend to,” Victoria replied just before the pack started running their way.
Dimitri fired off a few shots before switching over to his Blade to conserve ammo. Victoria and Tessa fought fiercely alongside him, slicing and stabbing away with their axes and Blades. The possessed dogs were vicious and relentless, putting up a fight throughout the entire lab area. Finally, Tessa impaled what seemed to be the last one.
With the threat neutralized, Victoria looked down at the map only to find it had completely glitched out. However, the screen holding the coordinates to the portal doorway was still intact. “Let’s find that freaking hallway,” she said. Turning around, she gasped when she saw a possessed Shadowhunter behind her. Before she could react, Tessa tackled it to the floor and began punching away with her Runed Adamas knuckles that Savannah had given her. Finally, with a harder blow, the Possessed disintegrated.
Tessa, breathing heavily, got to her feet. She let out a sharp breath and wiped the sweat from her brow, saying, “I needed that.”
Victoria stood there, mouth agape, as the scene reminded her of something familiar.
Dimitri, understanding Tessa's need for release—partly why she enjoyed making explosives—noticed Victoria’s expression and asked, “Are you alright?”
Brought back to the present by his words, Victoria replied, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just…” She looked from Tessa to Dimitri and finished her thought, “she’s so much like me at that age it’s scary.”
Hearing that, both Tessa and Dimitri laughed. Should they be laughing at a time like that? No, probably not, but damn, they needed it.
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Unfortunately, the hallway they discovered was crawling with far too many Possessed to handle, forcing them to backtrack all the way to central Ops. To their surprise, they weren't the only ones who had retreated; Savannah, Riv, and Trick were already there, clearly having faced the same predicament. Victoria and the others quickly noticed Simon was absent from this group but refrained from asking questions, sensing the gravity of the situation.
Victoria scanned the group, frustration evident in her voice as she spoke, “My map fried. Any idea how to get out of here safely?”
Trick, regretfully shaking her head, replied, “I can’t guarantee any safe passage. I can’t tell where the hordes of the Possessed are.”
Tessa glanced up at the corners of the room and spotted speakers and security cameras, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes. “If you pull up that Terri-gram, would she be able to guide us out of here?”
Savannah, wiping her tears and reactivating her healing Rune, which was struggling against the wounds inflicted by the possessed, expressed her skepticism. “Should we trust it? I mean, Terri was probably the one that created that system – why else would it look like her?”
Riv, crossing his arms and looking down before speaking, admitted, “My son created the system. He used Terri as a model for the hologram.”
Trick, hearing this revelation for the first time, looked incredulous. “Wyatt created the system? Wait… did he create everything?”
Dimitri, seizing the opportunity, asked, “Is Wyatt a Warlock here?”
Riv looked at Dimitri in surprise, “You have a Wyatt, too?” When Dimitri nodded, Riv confirmed, “Yes, Wyatt was a Warlock.”
Tessa didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean was?”
Trick, still mourning, answered, “Wyatt died during the outbreak a year ago.”
Riv, redirecting the conversation back to their immediate concern, said, “The point is, since Wyatt created the system, we can trust it.” He turned to Victoria, “You even said that the system told you that it sent out data to bring help here to help.” Riv now turned his attention to Savannah. “Are you able to get that system back online?”
Savannah scoffed, “What do you mean by back online? The system was rebooted, it wasn’t shut down. Which brings me back to questioning whether or not it can be trusted.”
Before anyone could respond, Terri-gram’s holographic form materialized in the center of the group, her presence commanding attention. “I can be trusted. I was watching, observing, trying to determine if you were fit to help save the world. From what I have seen, you all care more about certain companions than the fate of this dimension.”
Riv defended harshly, then took a breath to calm himself, “You can’t fault us for wanting to protect the people we love. Will you help us get out of here safely?”
Terri-gram paused, seemingly contemplating her next words, before speaking, “I will, but you must listen to my every word. Terri had left the Institute before the Demons entered. The Demons are here and have put their essence into your fallen Shadowhunters to revive them. They are trying to make their way out – if they do, it will be hell on Earth.” She gestured towards a hidden panel that opened to reveal a trigger remote of some kind. “Either Dimitri Riverblade, put a drop of your blood on this device. By giving it your blood, only either of you can activate it.”
Riv stepped forward and complied, while Dimitri asked, “Activate what?”
“The Angelic power core. Once you are safely outside the Institute’s walls, activate this to destroy the Institute and any creatures within it,” Terri-gram instructed, leaving no room for error.
Riv, scrutinizing the device, questioned, “Say we do that, then what? What’s to stop Terri from bringing more Demons here?”
Terri-gram’s expression shifted to one of perplexity, the first sign of emotion she had shown. “Terri did not bring the Demons here – Wyatt did. Terri has been trying to stop him this entire time. She took a page out of the Clave’s playbook and did whatever it took to do what she felt was right. Terri changed herself to become powerful enough to take on Wyatt. Everything that has happened here is Wyatt’s doing – he never died.”
Riv, feeling his world unravel, protested, “No. No, you are wrong! This is some twisted mind game.”
Terri-gram remained calm, “You don’t have to believe me. When you make it out of here, you will learn the truth. There is no time to waste; the longer you take, the more ground the Demons cover.” She looked towards the floor, and a panel opened to reveal a ladder. “That ladder will take you down into the utility tunnels. They run underneath the Institute’s lower levels. I will transmit a map to your functioning tablets. Good luck.” With that, she disappeared, having sent the maps.
Riv, dragging his hand down his face and exhaling deeply, addressed the group. When Trick looked like she was going to speak to him about what had just been revealed, he stopped her. “We’ll talk about it later. Once we’re out of here, we’ll talk.” He took Savannah’s tablet and opened the map. “Time to go.”
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The group had been wandering through the utility tunnels for what felt like hours. Their surroundings were disorienting, every corridor looking identical to the last, adding to their sense of frustration and unease. Despite the map indicating they were on the right path, they couldn't shake the feeling they were stuck in an endless loop. Anxiety and doubt crept in, making them question whether the map was wrong or if they had misread it somehow.
Finally, they stopped to catch their breath, the air thick with tension and exhaustion. Suddenly, they were ambushed by a horde of the Possessed, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare come to life. Panic surged through the group as they fought valiantly, but the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. Desperation set in, and they scrambled to find higher ground, climbing up onto the pipes to get away.
Riv, his heart pounding with fear and determination, helped Tessa onto the pipes where Dimitri and Victoria were already positioned. He couldn't let anything happen to her. As he prepared to climb up himself, a possessed Shadowhunter lunged at him, its claws raking across his face and leaving deep, bloody gashes. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Riv stabbed the Shadowhunter with his Dagger, destroying it before hauling himself up to join the others.
Savannah pushed Trick up onto the pipes and was about to follow when she spotted Simon among the horde. “Simon!” she cried out, her voice a mix of shock and sorrow. Simon lunged at her, slicing through her leather jacket and her arm beneath it. Savannah cried out in pain and heartbreak, and with a heavy heart, she stabbed Simon with her Blade, ending his torment before climbing up to safety.
Once atop the pipes, those who needed it quickly activated their healing Runes, but to their dismay, the familiar warmth and mending sensation was weak, if not entirely absent. The Possessed below snarled and snapped, unable to climb up after them. The group moved cautiously, holding onto the cables as they walked above the horde, the tension palpable as they tried to maintain their balance.
At one point, Riv stopped Dimitri, pressing the trigger remote into his hands. “My Rune isn’t working. Just in case something goes wrong with me, take this and blow this place to bits. And one more thing – if something happens to me – protect Trick.”
Dimitri wanted to argue, but the look on Riv’s face left no room for negotiation. It was an expression Dimitri knew all too well – the same steely resolve he himself possessed. Without a word, Dimitri nodded his head giving a silent vow, accepted the remote, and secured it safely before continuing on.
When they reached the end of the pipes, Trick used her magic to blast out a grate, creating an opening to the tunnel beyond. Trick, Savannah, Tessa, and Victoria made it safely off the pipes and into the other tunnel, away from the horde, but Dimitri and Riv were still catching up. The sound of snapping cables echoed through the tunnel, causing Dimitri to shout, “Pick up the pace, Riv!”
Dimitri hurried, but the cables gave way, sending the pipes crashing down and Riv tumbling into the horde below. “Riv!” Dimitri yelled, grasping desperately at the remaining secure cables. “Come on!”
Riv looked up at him, his expression one of grim determination. “Keep your word, Dimitri! Take care of Trick!” With that, he let go of Dimitri’s hand, allowing himself to fall back into the horde.
“Riv!” Dimitri’s voice was choked with helplessness and rage as he watched Riv disappear into the mass of possessed Shadowhunters. Climbing up to the tunnel with the others, he heard Riv fighting valiantly, taking down as many of the Possessed as he could before they finally overwhelmed him.
Trick, from her spot at the tunnel’s entrance, saw it all. Her scream of anguish echoed through the tunnel. “Father!” she cried, trying to lunge forward, but Dimitri held her back. “He needs me!” she screamed, struggling against his embrace.
Dimitri wrapped his arms around Trick, holding her tightly. “He needs you safe, Trick. I swore I would protect you, and I am going to keep my promise.”
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The group eventually came upon a vent that led back up to what appeared to be the lab area of the Institute’s lower levels. The air was thick with tension as they assessed Savannah's condition. Despite repeatedly activating her healing Rune, Savannah was deteriorating. She was sweating profusely, her skin clammy, and her movements sluggish and weak. Trick and Victoria had to support her, practically carrying her along. Trick's voice was laced with desperation as she reassured her friend, “We’ll get you to a Warlock healer, and you will be as good as new. I can’t lose another person.”
Savannah groaned weakly in response, her voice barely above a whisper, “Sure, Trick, whatever you say.”
Dimitri took the lead, bow at the ready, eyes scanning for threats as they moved cautiously down the hallways. “I should warn you, I only have a few normal arrows left – the rest are explosive. So be ready to take cover if it comes to that,” he said, his tone serious. He needed to ensure they were all prepared for the worst.
They hadn’t gone far before Savannah, her voice strained and shaky, said, “Something’s wrong – I – I can’t keep going. They infected me with Demon venom or something.”
Trick refused to accept this. She propped Savannah against the wall, holding her firmly by the shoulders and locking eyes with her. She could see Savannah’s aura changing but she couldn’t accept it – they had to fix it. Trick's voice was filled with fierce determination and a hint of panic, “Once we get you to a healer, you will be fine, Savannah. Now woman up and fight what is happening to you! You are stronger than this!”
Tears welled up in Savannah’s eyes as she replied, her voice breaking, “My strength died the second Simon did. Just leave me here and go. I am slowing you down.”
Victoria's heart ached hearing Savannah’s words. She too had felt the crushing weight of despair, the urge to give up. But now, they had to keep pushing forward. She had to try something, anything. With determined hands, Victoria pushed up Savannah’s sleeve and drew a Rune with the Stele of this world, not knowing if it would work but hoping that it would.
“What is that?” Trick asked, not recognizing the Rune.
“Revitalization,” Victoria answered with a sniffle, remembering Nathaniel and how he had created it for her. “That is what my Parabatai called it – but what it really does is increase the will to live.” She put the final touch on the Rune, and it glowed before imprinting itself on Savannah’s skin.
As soon as the Rune took hold, Savannah looked up, locking eyes with Trick. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Trick gave Victoria a grateful look, her eyes filled with tears, as they went back to helping Savannah walk and move forward.
Rounding a corner, they were confronted by the sight of a grotesque creature in one of the labs. It walked on all fours, with huge claws, and resembled a hairless saber-toothed tiger. Dimitri quickly shut the door to the lab, but he knew the glass and door wouldn’t hold for long. “I think we just saw a Demon from this dimension,” Dimitri commented, his voice tense. He then turned to Victoria, “You and Trick take the lead; I’ve got Savannah.”
Dimitri scooped Savannah up into his arms, cradling her protectively as they moved swiftly towards the platform that now seemed tantalizingly close. The weight of their situation pressed heavily on them all, but they clung to the hope that they could escape and survive this nightmare together.
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The group quickly descended the stairs that led to the train platform, their breaths heavy with exhaustion and fear. Every step felt like an eternity, but they knew they had no time to waste. All they had to do now was get on the train, power it up, and get the hell out of dodge. Dimitri, with Savannah cradled in his arms, carefully boarded the train first, then turned back to help the others clamber aboard.
Trick wasted no time getting the train started, her hands flying over the controls with practiced ease. She called back through the open door to the rest of the group in the train car behind her, “You might want to hold onto something! We’re going full power!” With that, she pushed the final button, and the train lurched forward, speeding off so quickly it jolted everyone aboard, nearly knocking them off their feet.
Savannah leaned back against the wall of the train car, her face pale and drawn. She closed her eyes, then opened them to look at Victoria, her voice a faint whisper, “I want to live, but if living means becoming possessed or something else demonic then...” She trailed off, her eyes pleading for understanding.
Victoria reached out and squeezed Savannah’s shoulder firmly. “I know,” she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. “You have my word that I will do what needs to be done. But don’t think about that now. Once we’re up top, Trick will take you to a healer. It sounds like they’ll know what they’re doing.”
Savannah managed a weak nod before asking, “What about you? Are you leaving or staying? We could really use your help here.” She glanced at Dimitri, adding, “I don’t know how this world will make it without a Dimitri Riverblade.”
Before anyone could respond to Savannah’s words, the train car shuddered violently as large claws slashed through the side from the outside, the metal screeching with each strike.
“Get us out of here, Trick!” Tessa yelled, struggling to stay upright as the train rocked and swayed. Even with a Rune assist, it was nearly impossible to keep her balance.
“If we go any faster, we’ll go off the rails!” Trick shouted back, her voice tense with frustration. She periodically threw out bursts of magic, trying to ward the train car, but the four-legged Demon outside was clawing through the wards as if they were nothing. “Dammit!”
“Why isn’t your magic working?!” Tessa called out, panic evident in her voice.
“Warlock magic doesn’t work on Demons,” Trick finally realized. “We share the same blood. You’re on your own!”
At that moment, the four-legged Demon burst through the door, its snarls filling the train car. Dimitri immediately fired his remaining normal arrows, while Tessa hurled all of her throwing stars at the creature.
Victoria could see Dimitri's hesitation to use the explosive arrows, knowing the close quarters and the speed of the train could make things even more dangerous. “Do it!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Dimitri nodded, quickly drawing and firing one explosive arrow, then another. The arrows struck the Demon in the head, and seconds later, its head exploded in a burst of Angelic energy, the force of the blast sending everyone on the train reeling.
Trick nearly lost her balance, the train wobbling dangerously as it seemed like it might derail. “You guys alright back there?!” she called out, unable to look back as she focused on keeping the train on track.
Tessa, Victoria, and Dimitri slowly got their bearings, their hearts pounding in their chests. Tessa called back, “Yeah, we’re good.” But her relief was short-lived as Savannah began to snarl, her eyes pitch black, and claws emerging from her fingers. “Oh shit,” Tessa scrambled to react, but before she could, a throwing axe embedded itself in Savannah’s chest, causing her to disintegrate. Tessa looked back to see Victoria, breathing heavily. “Nice shot,” she said, a mix of shock and gratitude in her voice.
“I keep my promises,” Victoria replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil. She retrieved her throwing axe and returned it to the loop on her belt. Helping Tessa to her feet, she then went over to Dimitri. “You good? Did you get scratched or anything?”
Dimitri shook his head. “I’m fine. You?”
Victoria nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Tessa, trying to lighten the mood, clasped her hands together and teased, “Aww! Mommy is falling for Daddy!” This earned her a simultaneous “Stop talking,” from both Dimitri and Victoria, though it only fueled her playful suspicion. “Hey, just saying, I totally ship it.”
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Once the train reached the upper platform, Trick, Victoria, Tessa, and Dimitri disembarked, their hearts pounding with anticipation. The air was thick with the weight of their mission. They sprinted up the stairs, pushing their bodies to the limit, and finally emerged outside. The sky above seemed vast and foreboding, but they felt a momentary relief as they put distance between themselves and the Institute.
Dimitri, clutching the trigger remote, looked back at the group. “We’re a safe distance now,” he said. With a heavy heart, he hit the switch. The group watched in a mix of awe and horror as the Angelic core activated, the explosion erupting from the depths below, and the Institute was consumed in a blazing inferno. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and the sky lit up with a brilliant, otherworldly glow. Any chance of more Demons emerging from there was obliterated in an instant.
“Come on,” Dimitri urged, his voice cutting through the aftermath, “Let’s get to the portal.”
They wasted no time navigating through the dense forest. The coordinates led them to an open field, where the portal doorway stood ominously. As they neared it, their breath caught in their throats. Demons were soaring through the sky above them, casting long, menacing shadows on the ground.
“We’re too late,” Trick’s voice cracked with frustration and despair. “After everything that happened, and it’s too late?!”
“It’s not too late for you,” Victoria interjected, trying to offer a glimmer of hope. “You can come back to our world with us. Once we turn this portal on, you can come with us.”
Trick’s eyes burned with determination. “No. I am staying here. I am going to finish what my father started. I am going to find Terri. And if she is innocent in all of this, then I am going to save her.”
Dimitri’s mind wrestled with a heavy decision. After a moment, he finally spoke, “I’m staying, too.”
Tessa’s eyes welled up with tears. “What? No! You can’t do that. You can’t abandon me and Wyatt and Victoria! You can’t stay here – this isn’t your world!”
Dimitri pulled Tessa into a tight embrace, his voice soft yet resolute. “I know, Tessa. I know it’s not, but I made a vow to protect the world against Demons. It doesn’t matter what world I’m in, I intend to keep that vow. How can I leave here knowing that it will be left to oblivion?” He gently pulled back, looking into her tear-filled eyes. “You go back with Victoria. I give you my word that when the time is right, I will make it back to you.”
Tessa shook her head, her voice choked with emotion. “No… No!”
Dimitri hugged her again, his own tears threatening to spill. “Keep Wyatt in line for me until I make it back to you. I love you.” He kissed her forehead, then pulled back. “Don’t argue with me, Tessa. Now go!”
“Goodbye… I love you,” Tessa whispered, her voice trembling. She turned and hurried to the portal doorway, her steps unsteady. She couldn’t look back; if she did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave.
Victoria stood in stunned disbelief, her mind refusing to accept what was happening. She pointed a firm finger at Dimitri, her voice shaking. “If you seriously think I’m going to let you stay here then…” She was abruptly cut off as Dimitri wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply.
The kiss sent a shock through Victoria’s entire being. She never thought she would feel this way towards anyone again after losing Barnabas, especially not so soon after meeting Dimitri. When Dimitri finally pulled away, she was left breathless and confused, yet strangely resolute.
Dimitri gently brushed a strand of hair from Victoria’s face. “Take care of our girl.”
“We’ve got incoming, Dimitri!” Trick shouted from further down the field, her voice urgent. A flying Demon landed and started advancing towards them.
Without hesitation, Dimitri readied his Blade and sprinted over to join Trick in the fight against the Demon.
“Dimitri!” Victoria screamed after him, her voice breaking. She knew he wouldn’t look back, but she had to try. Her heart ached with the weight of their parting. It was tearing her apart, but she forced herself to run to Tessa, who had activated the portal. Together, they stepped through, hand in hand, leaving behind the world that had changed them forever.
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Tessa and Victoria stumbled out of the portal into the lab of the Institute in their dimension, the weight of their ordeal still heavy on their shoulders. As soon as they were clear, the portal snapped shut behind them with a resounding finality before the doorway combusted in a burst of energy, the remnants of their journey sealed off for good…or so it seemed.
Wyatt came running into the room, his face a mix of relief and shock. He gasped when he saw them standing there. “You’re back! And you look like hell!” he cried out, rushing over to envelop Tessa in a tight, almost desperate hug. “We couldn’t track you. I was freaking out so badly. Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?”
Tessa, still reeling from the transition, hazarded a guess. “Twelve hours, give or take?” She truly didn’t know for sure but was certain it hadn’t been more than a day.
Wyatt pulled back from their embrace abruptly, his eyes wide with incredulity. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been gone for months!”
“Months?!” Tessa and Victoria exclaimed in unison, their voices echoing their shared shock and disbelief.
“Yeah!” Wyatt confirmed, then turned to Victoria with a sense of urgency. “You better get back to New York ASAP – an urgent message was left for you here.” As he spoke, he looked behind Victoria and Tessa, his expression turning to one of confusion when he didn’t see Dimitri. “Where’s my dad?”
The question hit Victoria and Tessa like a punch to the gut, their eyes welling up with tears they had been holding back. Wyatt’s concern grew, and he repeated, “Where is my dad?”
Victoria reached out, her hand trembling as she took Wyatt’s. “Let’s find a place to sit down and talk, Wyatt. We’ll tell you everything…” Her voice was soft, filled with the gravity of the news she had to deliver.
As they moved to a quieter area to talk, Victoria’s thoughts raced. She knew she had to head back to New York – the urgency in Wyatt’s message made that clear. But first, they needed to break the news to Wyatt gently, and give Tessa the choice of whether she wanted to accompany her or stay behind.
The lab was a chaotic blur as they walked through it, and Victoria’s mind was equally tumultuous. She couldn’t fathom how so much time had passed in this dimension while they were away. She glanced at Tessa, who was trying to stay composed despite the tears streaming down her face, and knew this was going to be one of the hardest conversations of their lives…
The weight of their conversation with Wyatt hung heavily in the air, the reality of their situation settling in. Victoria knew she had to be strong for both Wyatt and Tessa, even as her own heart ached with the loss and uncertainty that lay ahead. With a determined resolve, she  knew she had to prepare to face whatever challenges awaited her back in New York, knowing that they had to hold onto hope and the promise of Dimitri’s return…
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End of The Opposite and The Mirror’s Spin-Off
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biteofboredom · 5 months ago
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"fuck it we ball" *cries to oddly specific musical theatre songs*
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spaghett-onaplate · 8 months ago
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depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed
#and wdym that lifestyle changed so quickly into being out and about and an active member of the world??#very proud of myself#and i mean it wasn't that quick of a change#it was like 1.5 years primarily depression bedrotting with occasional school -> primarily depression bedrotting ->#primarily depression bedrotting with 3-9 hours of work weekly -> straight into 31+ hours school+9-12 hours work weekly#so there was somewhat of a gradual progression#but still#also wowza i wake up 7-7:30am every morning now. 1pm was an early wake up for a not so insignificant amount of time#i mean of all fundamental growth years to miss out on the ages like what 12/13-15 aren't too bad? they would suck in a different way if i#had been socially involved#anyway it's just. yea i'm proud of myself but it is a crazy lifestyle change#and even when i was deeply depressed in a horrible routine i feel like i learned a lot. how to regulate my emotions and cope well and find#the joy in everything. bc if i stayed in bed all day then i would at least be happy about the sun or whatever#and for the while of being not at school at all i WANTED to be at school i just could not find one bc our school system is so cute like tha#(basically every school is at capacity and the local school that has a guaranteed place for me would have been an all boys or girls 😭)#but i miraculously found and got into this school and miraculously made it work so well for me socially and now academically#it's also a good time to get back into school for my education bc any later and it woulda been pretty bad for all my certifications and uni#ive missed out on so much maths that its not worth it to me to try and catch up but my teacher knows that#but ive always hated maths regardless i only ever understood it for the first half of yr 7 then my attendance dropped#and after my recent exam i decided to try harder at school. but i still got an A on the exam i didn't study for!! academic weapon fr#i'm just idk thinking back to myself in the past few years#and how hopeless it all felt. but i got out of it!! i beat the depression and social anxiety and found a good place and made the most of it#and during the peak of my depression i remember i went out someplace near my old school and panicked so so badly about seeing#kids from my old school. and the friends at the time didnt really check on me when i went to shake and cry in a side street lmao#i kept the best of that friendgroup and have better friends now. but anyway now i take a bus each morning with some kids from my old school#and you see these hands? they look like they're shaking to you?#anyway yeah it's just cool i got to this point :) i really had no hope for so long but now i have a life i'm living and a future i'm build#--ing towards#which is funny i just decided some random day last november after watching some better call saul 'huh actually lawyer would b pretty cool'#and will i get there? we'll see but i do have hope now
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tj-crochets · 3 days ago
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Still no craft updates on account of I feel Bad* but I did get like half a beanie crocheted this weekend? I also have a bat that's haunting me. In that there's a bat design I desperately want to turn into a plushie not in that I am being literally haunted by a bat. As far as I know I am not haunted by a bat but to be fair I'm not confident I'd know? *my heart rate got high enough that made me cough but my asthma was flaring up enough that cough launched me into an asthma attack, which raised my heart rate even more, so basically I used my emergency inhaler and then was on the floor for a while. Feels bad! Do not recommend. I'm okay though just tired
#the person behind the yarn#the reason my heart rate got that high is that my pulse pressure was very narrow#which is. you know. bad.#so I finally gave in and took an extra dose of my meds (as my doctor has advised in the past)#what is probably happening is that I reached the point of stressed where my body couldn't cope#(I'm on long term steroids so I need stress doses if I get too stressed)#but! because acute stress can trigger an allergic reaction (yay MCAS) I tend to kinda...shunt stress off to the side#and come back to process it when it's less like. urgent? immediate?#when it no longer feels like it will trigger an MCAS flareup if I acknowledge the feeling exists#and I do go back and process those emotions! I just have to get a little distance first#and the work stress lately has been so unrelenting (combined with the like...general world news stress)#that I have been ignoring my own stress levels so hard I genuinely did not think I was stressed#or that I needed a stress dose of my meds but uh. I was wrong!#I was wrong. Good news is now that I know I should be good in a day or two#doc said three days for stress doses and today was day one#bad news is narrow pulse pressure combined with asthma attack feels Very Bad!#very bad indeed took me like 20-30 minutes and two different kinds of medication before I could talk normally#without having to pause and catch my breath midsentence#every time I start thinking 'you know maybe I'm not really disabled maybe my health stuff is under control'#it pops up like a jack in the box like surprise! it's the same thing again still here! the meds just hide it most of the time#but it's still there :) lurking :) when I least expect it :)#...I think I might buy myself another sticker or two. something to look forward to coming in the mail
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kuromi-hoemie · 5 months ago
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feeling v proud of myself for eyeing something and thinking “that seems like it's 70 inches” then it was 😌
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