#deception pass bridge

[orofeaiel]

Deception Pass Bridge

[i2-xmf]

[pytheon]

[only1devin]

Bridge Over Deception Pass. 📍 Oak Hardbor, WA

[dmlphoto]

deception pass state park

[hereforuconnwbb]

Unexpected Halt - CHAPTER EIGHT

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

~paige plays for uconn and azzi plays for stanford~

word count: 10.9k

warning: language, drugs

I PRE WROTE ALL TS AND WAS GONNA POST LATER BUT IMMA POST NOW CS IM SO GIDDY AND HYPED AZZI IS BACK FOR ANOTHER YEAR LESSSSFUCKENGOOOOOOOO

hey guys heres chapter 8 !! ik u guys wanted me to fix it but hey, we r getting there veryyyyy slowly 🤞🏽 gonna build off of this in the next chapter and maybe get them right ??? 🤷🏽‍♀️ we will see 😛 im hoping i didnt leave any mistakes in here and that it all adds up but hopefully yall enjoy !!!

DISCLAIMER: i want to make it clear that i DO NOT support, condone, or normalise victim blaming, manipulation, or any form of abuse. this story is purely fictional and meant for storytelling purposes, exploring themes of deception, miscommunication, and emotional conflict. the events depicted are not meant to excuse harmful behaviour but rather to show how misunderstandings and outside influences can impact relationships. if any part of this story is upsetting, please read with discretion.

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A few days had passed since the incident at Ted’s, and the silence between Paige and Azzi was deafening. Neither had reached out to the other, both wrapped up in their own spiraling emotions, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had suddenly appeared between them.

Paige had spent the last few days in a haze, replaying everything over and over in her head, feeling the weight of the mistake she’d made. She hadn’t known Lexi had drugged her, but the consequences of her unconsciousness were now clearer than ever. Azzi was hurt, and Paige couldn’t fix that — not yet, at least.

She couldn’t bring herself to call Azzi. The idea of hearing the coldness in her voice, or worse, hearing nothing at all, made her stomach twist. She knew Azzi had blocked her number. She had seen it in the moment of panic after waking up, and it hit her harder than any physical blow.

The days dragged by in an uncomfortable mix of regret and confusion. Paige found herself constantly checking her phone, hoping for a message, but there was nothing. Not even a hint of the person she’d come to rely on, to trust.

Azzi, on the other hand, was no better off. She sat in her room, staring blankly at her phone, unable to erase the image of Paige with Lexi’s lips pressed against hers. It burned in her mind every time she closed her eyes, the overwhelming betrayal eating away at her. Her heart ached in ways she hadn’t known possible, but her pride kept her from reaching out. What was there left to say?

Each passing hour felt like a battle to hold herself together, to not let her emotions get the better of her. She missed Paige. She missed the connection they shared, the easy comfort of being with her. But she also felt foolish for letting herself believe it was real. How could she have been so blind? And now, all she had was the image of Paige, unconscious, while Lexi twisted everything for her own gain.

Caroline had tried to comfort her, offering words of support, but even she had become a distant figure in the background. Azzi couldn’t focus on anything except the pain of what had happened. She’d blocked Paige’s number because she didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t want to hear more lies, more empty apologies. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Paige anymore. It was that she couldn’t trust her. Not now.

Paige lay in bed now, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to drown out the quiet ache in her chest. She didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know where to start. The whole situation felt too complicated to untangle, but she knew she needed to find a way to apologize — and more than that, to explain what had really happened.

But how could she even begin? Would Azzi believe her?

Paige sat up, the silence in her room feeling more suffocating than it ever had before. Her phone lay in her hands, the screen lit up with messages from KK and Ice, but not a single word from Azzi. She couldn’t keep doing this. She couldn’t keep staring at her phone, hoping Azzi would maybe unblock her and reach out. She had to be the one to break the silence.

But where to start?

With a shaky breath, she unlocked her phone and scrolled through her contacts, stopping when her eyes landed on Caroline’s name. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the screen. Caroline wasn’t exactly Azzi, but she was close. She might not be the one to forgive her, but maybe she could help. Maybe she could tell her what to do. After all, she had been there through everything with Azzi.

Finally, Paige tapped out a message, her heart pounding.

Paige: Hey, Caroline. Can we talk? I need to explain myself.

It took a few minutes before the dots appeared, and then the reply came. Caroline’s response was swift, but it hit like a punch to the gut.

Caroline: Paige, I don’t think you and Azzi should be talking right now. She’s hurt, and I don’t think it’s going to help either of you for me to be the messenger. You fucked up, and now you need to give her space.

Paige winced, the sharpness of Caroline’s words striking her harder than she had expected. She had known it was coming, but it still stung.

Paige: Caroline, I swear, I didn’t.

Caroline: I don’t care what you didn’t do. The fact is, she’s upset, and you need to respect that. Azzi’s not in a place where she wants to hear from you, and I don’t think it would help. Not right now. And honestly? I don’t think she’d want me to be talking to you either, but I’m not going to be the one to make this harder for her. She’s already been through enough.

Paige’s hands trembled as she read the messages over and over. She could feel the anger, the hurt in Caroline’s words, and she couldn’t blame her for it. She had let Azzi down, let both of them down, and now Caroline was just as angry. But she needed to talk to someone. She needed to explain.

Paige: Caroline, please. I just— I didn’t know what was happening. I was drugged. Lexi did it. I— I’m not making excuses, I just need Azzi to know that. I need to explain to her that I didn’t do this intentionally. It wasn’t me.

The reply came quickly, almost too quickly.

Caroline: I know you think you’re explaining, but right now, it’s not going to help. Azzi needs time, and I’m not sure if she’ll even want to hear what you have to say when she’s ready. You’ve hurt her, Paige. I think you need to take a step back and think about that.

Caroline’s words were like a slap in the face. Paige’s chest tightened as the weight of her own mistakes came crashing down again. She didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know if Azzi would ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Paige: But I love her. I really do, Caroline. I never meant for any of this to happen. Please, just tell her I’m sorry.

Caroline didn’t reply for several minutes, and when she did, it was in a much softer tone.

Caroline: I’m not the one to give you her forgiveness, Paige. You’ll have to work for that. Just… think about what you’ve done. Think about how Azzi feels.

Paige read the message over and over again, her heart heavy with the weight of the truth. She didn’t deserve Azzi’s forgiveness. Not yet. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fight for it. She had to.

She just didn’t know how.

—----------------

Azzi sat on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring blankly at the floor. Her phone lay beside her, still turned over, as if even looking at it would bring back everything she was trying to push away. But no matter how much she tried to distract herself, Paige’s words—or what she thought were Paige’s words—kept replaying in her mind.

She had barely slept since that night. Barely eaten. Everything felt off. On the court, she was slower, unfocused. She hadn’t even told her teammates what happened, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would. She just kept pretending she was fine, when in reality, she felt like she was unraveling.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Caroline stepped inside, her expression cautious. “Hey,” she said softly.

Azzi just hummed in response, not looking up.

Caroline walked over and sat beside her, exhaling before speaking. “Paige texted me.”

Azzi stiffened at the mention of her name. Her jaw clenched, but she still didn’t look up.

“She wanted to talk,” Caroline continued. “Said she needed to explain herself.”

That made Azzi scoff. “Explain what? That she lost interest? That she wanted her ex instead?” Her voice was bitter, laced with hurt. “I don’t need an explanation, Care. She made it pretty damn clear.”

Caroline hesitated for a second before nodding. “I told her I didn’t think you’d want to talk to her,” she admitted. “I shut her down.”

Azzi finally lifted her head, her expression unreadable for a moment before she exhaled. “Good.”

Caroline studied her carefully. “Are you sure?”

Azzi let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “What am I supposed to do? Let her talk her way out of this? She kissed Lexi, Caroline. She literally told me she wanted her. And then she let me find out with a damn picture? Nah. I don’t wanna hear anything from her.”

Caroline frowned but didn’t argue. “I get it,” she said. “And I’m not saying you should forgive her. But… you’re not okay.”

Azzi looked away. “I’ll be fine.”

Caroline sighed. “You don’t have to be fine right now. But you also don’t have to act like this doesn’t hurt.”

Azzi swallowed, trying to keep herself composed. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” she muttered.

Caroline nodded slowly. “Alright,” she said, squeezing Azzi’s knee gently before standing up. “Just know I’m here, okay? For whatever you need.”

Azzi didn’t respond, just gave a small nod before Caroline walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

And no matter how much she tried to bury them, they weren’t going away anytime soon.

—----------------

Paige sat at her desk, her phone still in her hand, though it had been a few minutes since she sent the message to Caroline. She didn’t expect an immediate response, but she still stared at the screen, waiting for something—anything—that would bring some relief to the knot in her chest. There was no reply from Caroline yet, and, even though she’d already given her the cold shoulder, it felt like she had lost Azzi for good.

She couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at her. The way Azzi had blocked her, the way everything had gone from feeling perfect to nothing in the blink of an eye. Paige had never felt so helpless in her life. She hated herself for that night. For letting herself get caught up in Lexi’s twisted games, for not being able to explain herself, for letting Azzi slip away.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair to either of them. She hadn’t had the chance to tell Azzi what had actually happened. She hadn’t even had a chance to apologize properly before things had spiraled out of control. Paige wiped at her eyes, trying to blink away the tears, but they kept coming. She hated the weakness she felt, the tears that kept spilling out even though she couldn’t stop them.

She couldn’t explain to Azzi. Azzi wouldn’t listen. She had no way of telling her that she wasn’t the one who sent the messages. That it hadn’t been her kissing Lexi, that she had been knocked out, unconscious, and that the whole thing had been twisted into something that it wasn’t. She wanted to scream, to shout at the top of her lungs to anyone who would listen, but all she could do was sit there, feeling more alone than she ever had.

And Azzi—Azzi would never know.

Paige felt the suffocating weight of her isolation, the constant ache in her chest. She couldn’t reach out to Azzi. Not after what happened. Azzi had made her choice. She had blocked Paige’s number, had made it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with her. And Paige couldn’t blame her. Not after everything that had happened.

But still, the thought of not being able to explain herself, of not being able to make Azzi see that she was innocent in all of this, tore her apart. She needed Azzi to know. She needed her to understand that everything had gone wrong, and she had been powerless to stop it.

Paige wiped at her eyes again, letting out a shaky breath. She hated this. Hated feeling like she had no voice. No way to make things right.

The room felt too small, too suffocating, and Paige stood up abruptly, pacing for a moment before grabbing her jacket. A walk. She needed a walk.

Without thinking about it any further, she grabbed her keys, slipped on her shoes, and stepped out into the cold night air. The campus was quieter than usual, the only sounds being her footsteps echoing on the pavement as she walked aimlessly, hoping the chill in the air would cool her thoughts, calm the storm inside her head.

Her mind kept circling back to Azzi. She kept wondering where things had gone wrong. When had everything started to unravel? Had it been Lexi’s reappearance? Had it been her letting her guard down and trusting the wrong person?

Paige wanted to scream at herself, to apologize for everything she had done wrong. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t take back any of it. She couldn’t change what had happened. And the longer she walked, the more she felt like a part of her was just slipping away.

She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix this.

The tears came again, harder this time, but she didn’t even bother to wipe them away. She let them fall, letting the cool breeze brush against her face as she tried to breathe through the pain. All she wanted was to hold Azzi, to make everything right again, but she knew that would never happen. She knew she had messed it all up beyond repair.

And the worst part? She didn’t even know how she’d get back from it.

Paige’s footsteps slowed, the weight of the night pressing down on her as she wandered aimlessly through the quiet campus. She could hear the soft rustling of leaves in the trees, but it felt like the world around her was miles away. Every step was a reminder of how broken she felt, and the pain in her chest felt like it might swallow her whole.

As she turned a corner, the sound of voices caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat—Ice and KK. They had probably come looking for her. She hadn’t been in her room for hours. She hadn’t wanted to be there, hadn’t wanted to face the emptiness of it all. But now, she was alone, and the guilt was suffocating.

“Paige,” Ice’s voice called gently, and Paige’s shoulders tensed, the weight of the tears she’d been holding back finally breaking through. She didn’t even try to hide them as they fell freely down her face. She felt small in that moment, vulnerable in a way that she wasn’t used to. But the comforting presence of her friends made the pain a little more bearable.

KK was the first to reach her, pulling her into a tight hug. Ice followed, wrapping her arms around Paige as well, the trio standing in the quiet night with nothing but the sound of Paige’s soft sobs filling the air.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Ice whispered softly, her voice soothing as she rubbed Paige’s back. “You don’t have to be alone in this, alright? We’ve got you.”

Paige could barely catch her breath, but somehow, just being held in their arms felt like the tiniest bit of relief. She had been running on empty for so long, her emotions too tangled to even make sense of. But now, with KK and Ice there, she felt like she could finally break down—like she could admit how badly she was hurting.

“I messaged Caroline,” Paige finally whispered between shaky breaths. “I thought… maybe she could help me explain. But she shut me down. She shut me down…” The words stung more than she expected, and she felt a fresh wave of tears crash down on her.

Ice’s grip tightened around her. “You tried, Paige. You’re trying. That’s all you can do right now.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Paige choked out, her voice cracking. “I just… I can’t lose her, but it feels like I already have. I can’t even explain what happened to Azzi. I… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but everything’s messed up now.”

KK’s voice was quiet but firm. “You’ve got to give her time. Azzi’s hurting too, you know? You can’t blame yourself for everything, Paige. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t even get to tell her what happened,” Paige whispered, barely able to speak the words through the lump in her throat. “I didn’t get to tell her I was unconscious when the picture was taken, when the messages were sent… I didn’t get to explain myself.”

Ice sighed softly, her fingers still gently brushing through Paige’s hair. “Paige, we know. But right now, you can’t carry all of this on your own. You’ve got to give Azzi some space. You know how she is—she’s hurt, too.”

Paige nodded weakly, burying her face into Ice’s shoulder. “But I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I don’t know if I can fix this.”

“You can’t fix it overnight,” KK said, her voice full of quiet assurance. “But you can start by being honest with her. And with yourself. You’re not alone in this, Paige. You’ve got us. We’ll help you through it.”

Paige nodded, her tears slowly subsiding as the weight of her friends’ words sank in. She still had a long road ahead of her, and there was no telling how things would turn out with Azzi. But for now, she wasn’t alone. She didn’t have to carry this pain by herself.

With a shaky breath, Paige whispered, “Thanks… both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

KK gave a soft laugh, squeezing her tighter. “You’ll never have to find out, Paige. We’re here for you. We always will be.”

As the three of them stood there, the cold night air no longer seemed so suffocating. It wasn’t much, but it was a small glimmer of hope in the middle of all the darkness. And for the first time in days, Paige allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could make things right with Azzi.

—----------------

The morning after the late-night breakdown, Paige awoke feeling heavy. The guilt still clung to her, but today was game day—UConn was playing at Gampel Pavilion, and she couldn’t afford to be consumed by her emotions. She had to push through. She had to focus on basketball, even if it was hard to focus on anything else.

As the team began to prepare, the gym buzzed with excitement, the energy of the upcoming game pulsing through the air. Paige couldn’t shake the thoughts of Azzi, but she was determined not to let it affect her performance. Today, she would be focused. She would be the Paige Bueckers the fans knew and loved.

During warm-ups, Paige went through the motions, bouncing a ball between her hands, stretching her legs, and mentally preparing for the game. The stands were already filling up with fans—die-hard UConn supporters who were excited to see their team compete. Paige couldn’t help but notice how many eyes were on her. She always thrived in the spotlight, but today it felt different.

As she walked toward the sideline, a young fan caught her attention. The little girl was holding a sign that said, “I believe in you, Paige!” It made Paige smile despite everything she was carrying inside. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a couple standing near the front row, holding a baby who was staring up at her with big, curious eyes.

“Hey there,” Paige smiled softly, walking up to them. The baby’s eyes locked onto hers, and she couldn’t help but wave. “Hi, little one! You’re so cute.”

The baby giggled and reached out a small hand toward her. Paige’s heart melted. It was a simple interaction, but it was the kind of innocence and sweetness that she desperately needed in this moment. Without thinking, she bent down to get closer to the baby, letting the little one grasp her finger. The parents were smiling, clearly just as touched by the moment as she was.

“I think you’re a future UConn fan,” Paige said with a chuckle, her voice warm and gentle. “Look at you, already a natural.”

The baby babbled happily, and Paige couldn’t help but laugh. She made a silly face, trying to get the baby to smile more. And sure enough, the little one broke out into a bright grin that had Paige grinning back, feeling a brief respite from her worries.

The moment felt perfect in its simplicity. Paige spent a few more moments chatting with the parents, thanking them for their support before she moved on to the next part of her warm-up routine. But what she didn’t know was that someone had captured the interaction on their phone, and before long, the video was being shared all over social media.

By the time the game was about to begin, the video had gone viral. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers making our hearts melt with this precious moment with a young fan! This is why we love her!” Fans flooded her social media with praise, commenting on how sweet and genuine the moment had been. It was a reminder of why Paige was so adored, even in the midst of everything she was going through.

—----------------

Azzi sat in her dorm room, the quiet hum of her laptop filling the space as she stared at the screen, not really focusing on anything in particular. She had spent the last few days pushing herself through the routine of school and practice, keeping herself busy, trying to avoid the thoughts of Paige that constantly swirled in her mind. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the pain.

As she scrolled mindlessly through social media, something caught her eye. It was a video, a short clip of Paige interacting with a baby fan during warm-ups before the game. Azzi’s heart skipped a beat as the thumbnail loaded. She hadn’t expected to see Paige on her feed, especially not like this.

The video was simple but so undeniably sweet. Paige was crouching down, smiling brightly at the little baby, making faces and engaging with the child in a way that was pure and endearing. Azzi couldn’t help but feel a pang in her chest, watching the way Paige lit up in that moment. She hadn’t seen Paige so carefree in a while, and the sight of her doing something so genuine made Azzi’s heart ache with longing.

She swallowed hard, not expecting this reaction. But there it was—right in front of her, the real Paige, not the one with the cold, distant energy from the last few days. The Paige who made her feel like the world was worth it.

Azzi paused the video, taking a deep breath. The urge to reach out to Paige was almost overwhelming, but she quickly shoved that thought aside. No. Not after everything that had happened.

Despite what happened between them, she couldn’t help but admire the way Paige had handled the situation with the baby. It was clear that Paige was still the same person, the one she had fallen for. But Azzi couldn’t forget the betrayal she felt when Paige’s ex had sent her those messages, the photo, everything that had gone down.

Still, watching the video made Azzi feel conflicted. She couldn’t just turn off all her feelings for Paige, not when she still cared so deeply. It was hard, too hard, to simply pretend that the connection wasn’t there anymore.

Azzi sighed, shaking her head, trying to clear the fog in her mind. She glanced at the clock—there was still time before the game started. In a quiet decision, she clicked over to UConn’s sports app, finding the live stream of the game. It wasn’t the same as being there, but it was something.

She hit “Play,” and the game footage loaded, the pre-game buzzer echoing through her speakers. It was hard to admit, but a part of Azzi wanted to watch—wanted to see Paige play, to see her in her element. She missed it. She missed her.

With a small sigh, Azzi adjusted the volume, leaned back in her chair, and watched as the camera panned across the court, waiting for the game to start.

—----------------

The game was intense from the start. Their opponent came out aggressive, matching UConn’s energy possession for possession. Paige quickly found herself in a battle, hounded by a tough defender who was making every dribble, every cut, a challenge. But Paige thrived in these moments.

She took control early, weaving through the defense and knocking down a pull-up jumper from the elbow for the first points of the game. The crowd erupted, but there was no time to celebrate. Their opponent responded immediately with a three-pointer on the other end, setting the tone for what was about to be a tight, physical contest.

The first quarter flew by, a back-and-forth affair with neither team able to break away. Paige dished out assists, finding her teammates in transition and setting them up for open shots. She hit another mid-range jumper, then drilled a three of her own off a screen, keeping UConn in rhythm. But every time they gained momentum, their opponent answered right back, refusing to let them build a lead.

By halftime, the score was tied.

Paige wiped the sweat from her forehead as she made her way to the locker room. The intensity of the game was exactly what she needed—something to pour herself into, something to distract her from everything off the court. But even as she focused on the game plan, the weight of the last few days still lingered in the back of her mind.

Coming out of halftime, UConn looked to push the pace. Paige initiated the break, driving into the lane before kicking the ball out for a three. She followed it up with a hard drive to the rim, finishing through contact for an and-one. The crowd erupted as she flexed her arms for a brief second before stepping to the free-throw line.

But their opponent wouldn’t go away. They responded with a run of their own, forcing turnovers and capitalizing on second-chance points. By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, the game was still up for grabs.

Paige stood near the sideline, catching her breath as the buzzer sounded to signal the start of the final period. The score was nearly even, and it was clear this one was going to come down to the wire.

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back again. One more quarter. That’s all that mattered now.

—----------------

Paige bent over slightly, resting her hands on her knees as she took deep breaths. The fourth quarter had been nothing short of a war. Both teams were going at it, possession for possession, neither backing down. Bodies crashed into each other on drives, defenders slapped at the ball with desperate aggression, and every bucket felt like it could be the turning point.

With under five minutes left, the game was deadlocked. Paige had already taken several hard hits, her jersey damp with sweat, but she wasn’t going to slow down now. She snatched a rebound and pushed the pace, weaving through defenders before dishing a no-look pass to her teammate for a layup. The crowd roared as UConn took a slim two-point lead.

But the other team refused to go away.

A deep three from their point guard put them back on top. The next possession, Paige fought through a double team, spun into the lane, and finished with a tough floater over an outstretched hand. The lead changed again.

Each time UConn scored, their opponent responded. The clock ticked down, the intensity inside Gampel reaching a fever pitch. The fans were on their feet, screaming on every possession, the sound rattling through the arena.

With thirty seconds left, UConn was up by one. Paige locked in defensively, her stance low as she shadowed her matchup. But their opponent made a quick move, driving hard to the basket. Paige slid over to help, but the ball handler kicked it out to the corner. The three-pointer went up.

And it dropped.

The opposing bench erupted as the shot fell through the net. With only six seconds left on the clock, UConn was suddenly trailing by two.

Paige felt her stomach twist, but there was no time to dwell on it. No timeouts. No huddles. Just instincts.

She grabbed the inbound pass and took off down the court.

Her defender rushed up, trying to force her wide, but Paige cut back to the middle, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted across half-court. The clock was down to two seconds. There was no time for anything else.

Paige planted her foot and launched a deep shot from just beyond half-court.

The ball sailed through the air, the entire arena holding its breath.

Then—

Swish.

The net barely moved as the ball dropped in.

Gampel Pavilion erupted.

Paige barely had time to react before her teammates swarmed her, bodies crashing into her as they screamed and grabbed at her jersey. The crowd was deafening, the floor shaking with the sheer force of the celebration.

She had won them the game.

Paige was breathless, hands in her hair as she tried to process what had just happened. She had done this before. She had hit clutch shots before. But tonight? This one meant everything.

For the first time in days, she felt something other than heartbreak.

She felt alive.

—----------------

Azzi sat on her bed, her eyes locked onto the screen as the game reached its final moments. The intensity had her gripping the edge of her blanket, her breath caught in her throat as she watched the opposing team drain a clutch three to take the lead.

Her heart pounded, even though she told herself she wasn’t as invested as she used to be. This wasn’t her team. She wasn’t supposed to care.

But then—Paige got the ball.

Azzi could see it coming before it even happened. The way Paige moved, the confidence in her stride, the way she pulled up from beyond half-court without hesitation.

Then—

Swish.

Azzi sucked in a breath as the crowd erupted, her stomach twisting as she watched Paige’s teammates swarm her in celebration.

Classic Paige.

It was the kind of moment that would be all over social media within minutes. The kind of moment that made Paige who she was—clutch, fearless, electric. Azzi had seen it firsthand so many times before.

And for a split second, just for a moment, she forgot everything.

She forgot about the messages.

She forgot about the picture.

She forgot about the way her heart had shattered.

Because all she could see was the girl she—

Azzi clenched her jaw and exhaled sharply, shaking her head.

No.

She grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, the screen going black instantly.

She refused to let herself get caught up in Paige Bueckers again. Not after everything.

Azzi leaned back against her pillows, sighing heavily.

It didn’t matter what Paige did. It didn’t change anything.

—----------------

Paige sat on the edge of her bed, still in her game gear, staring at the floor. The cheers from Gampel still echoed in her head, the weight of her game-winning shot still lingering in her body. Any other time, she would have been ecstatic—reliving the moment over and over, scrolling through the endless reactions online, feeling on top of the world.

But now? It felt… hollow.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, fingers threading through her damp hair. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving her drained, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with basketball.

Azzi hadn’t texted her.

She hadn’t expected her to, but a part of her had still hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, Azzi had seen the shot and thought of her. That she would reach out, even if just for a second.

But there was nothing. Just silence.

Paige blinked against the sting in her eyes, shaking her head. This is my fault. She kept telling herself that, over and over, even though she still didn’t have all the answers. Even though the entire night was still a blur, even though she knew she would never—could never—do that to Azzi. It didn’t matter.

Because Azzi thought she did.

Paige pulled out her phone, staring at their chat—the one that had been one-sided since that night. Every message she had sent after getting her phone back had gone nowhere. Blocked. The word still sat heavy in her chest, suffocating her.

She wanted to explain. She wanted to scream that she didn’t do what Azzi thought she did. That she had blacked out before anything happened. That she would never betray her like that. But she had no way to reach her. No way to make her listen.

Paige inhaled sharply and tossed her phone onto the bed beside her, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes.

It wasn’t just the loss of Azzi that made her feel like this. It was the helplessness. The way she felt like she had no voice, no control, no way to fix what had been broken.

And she didn’t know how to live with that.

—----------------

Meanwhile, Ice sat cross-legged on her bed, her phone in hand as she scrolled through her TikTok drafts. “Yo, KK, remember when you were acting a damn fool at Ted’s that night?” she teased, smirking as she tapped on a video.

KK, lying across the floor with a bag of chips, rolled her eyes. “Acting a fool? Nah, I was carrying the energy that night.”

“Uh-huh,” Ice chuckled, pressing play. The video showed KK hyping up the crowd, doing some ridiculous dance moves in the middle of the bar while people cheered. Ice’s camera work was shaky from her laughing, but it captured everything—the loud music, the packed room, the chaos of the night.

They kept watching, laughing at KK’s moves, until Ice went to the next draft—another angle, another clip. The camera had been pointed at KK, but it was a little wider this time, catching more of the background.

And that’s when it happened.

KK was mid-spin when Ice’s laughter suddenly died in her throat. Her fingers twitched as she tapped the screen to pause the video.

“Wait.”

KK, still munching on chips, barely looked up. “Wait what?”

“Look,” Ice muttered, rewinding a few seconds and then slowing the video down. She zoomed in, her heart sinking as she focused on the background.

There was Paige. She was turned slightly away from the bar, caught up in a conversation with someone—not Ice, not KK, but another person they couldn’t see clearly. And behind her—just for a split second—Lexi stepped into the frame.

And then, clear as day, Lexi’s hand moved over Paige’s drink pouring substances in.

KK sat up so fast she nearly knocked the chip bag over. “Hold the fuck up—”

Ice played the clip again, watching the same thing happen. Paige had been distracted, fully unaware. And Lexi? She had been quick. Smooth. As if she had done this before.

Ice and KK locked eyes, the air suddenly thick with realization.

“Tell me I’m tripping,” KK said, voice lower now, serious.

Ice’s jaw clenched. “You’re not tripping.”

KK exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. “Paige doesn’t know. She doesn’t know she was drugged.”

Ice’s stomach twisted. Paige had been blaming herself this whole time, drowning in guilt, thinking she had done something she hadn’t.

And the truth had been sitting right there in Ice’s drafts the whole time.

Ice and KK sat there in stunned silence, the weight of what they had just discovered pressing down on them like a brick wall.

Ice finally broke the silence. “We need to tell her.”

KK nodded, but she was still staring at the screen, jaw tight. “She’s been tearing herself apart over this, Ice. She thinks she actually let that shit happen.”

Ice exhaled sharply. “Lexi’s fucking sick. Paige was out cold, and she—” Ice cut herself off, shaking her head. “We need to tell her now.”

KK didn’t argue. She grabbed her phone and stood up. “Come on.”

The two of them left Ice’s room, moving quickly down the hall. KK’s heart pounded in her chest. Paige had been keeping everything bottled up, convinced she had ruined her relationship, and all this time—she never even had a chance.

When they got to Paige’s dorm, Ice didn’t bother knocking. She pushed the door open, and there was Paige, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the floor. She looked exhausted—like she hadn’t slept in days.

Her head lifted slightly when she saw them, her brows pulling together. “What’s up?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Ice and KK didn’t say anything at first. KK just walked over, sitting next to her, while Ice stayed standing, gripping her phone.

Paige’s expression shifted, picking up on the energy in the room. “What?” she asked again, her voice quieter now.

Ice swallowed, then looked Paige dead in the eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “Lexi drugged you.”

Paige blinked. Her whole body went still. “What?”

KK took a deep breath and held out Ice’s phone. “We have proof, P. It’s on video.”

Paige stared at the phone like it might explode in her hands. Her fingers shook slightly as she reached for it. Ice played the clip, and Paige watched.

She saw herself standing there at the bar, completely unaware. She saw Lexi slide into frame. She saw Lexi’s hand move over her drink.

Paige’s breath hitched.

The room spun.

She had no memory of this.

Her stomach twisted violently, like she might throw up.

“Lexi…” Paige whispered, her voice trembling. She could barely hear herself over the blood rushing in her ears.

KK placed a steadying hand on Paige’s back, her usual playful demeanor gone. “She set you up, P. You didn’t kiss her. You didn’t cheat. She did this to you.”

Paige clenched her jaw, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Her breathing was unsteady. Her hands were shaking.

All this time, she had been drowning in guilt. All this time, she had been hating herself.

And the truth had been stolen from her.

She never had a voice in this.

She had been a victim.

Tears welled in Paige’s eyes, but this time, they weren’t just from heartbreak. They were from anger. From betrayal. From the sheer violation of it all.

Lexi had stolen so much from her.

And now, Paige wanted it back.

—----------------

Paige, Ice, and KK stood in front of the police station, the tension heavy in the air. Paige’s heart was pounding as she walked into the station, clutching her phone tightly, the video of Lexi drugging her ready to be shown. This was it—she was going to take action. She was going to make sure Lexi couldn’t hurt her—or Azzi—anymore.

After a few moments, they were ushered into a small office, and Paige nervously took a seat, her hands still trembling. A detective sat across from them, flipping open a notepad, looking up at Paige with a serious expression.

“So, what do we have here?” the detective asked, taking in the scene.

Paige’s voice shook slightly, but she kept her focus. “I was drugged. Someone put something in my drink without me noticing, and I—I need you to look into it. I also need to report… what happened after. I was unconscious, and she kissed me. I—I didn’t consent to it.”

The detective nodded, glancing at Ice and KK for a moment before looking back at Paige. “Okay. Let’s take a look at the video.”

Paige pulled her phone from her pocket, her hands still shaking, and handed it over. The detective played the video, eyes narrowing as they watched the footage of Lexi subtly slipping something into Paige’s drink. Paige felt a wave of relief flood through her—it was evidence. She was being believed.

“This is definitely a clear indication of tampering,” the detective said, pausing the video. “We can follow up on this. It’s enough to open an investigation.”

Paige nodded, finally feeling like the weight was starting to lift. “Good. I—I’m just so tired of feeling like I have no control over this.”

The detective paused for a moment, flipping through their notes. “We’ll look into the drugging part. We’ll need to talk to the bar staff and any potential witnesses, but this gives us a good place to start.”

Paige felt her chest tighten. “But what about… the other part? After I passed out… She kissed me. I didn’t consent to it. Can you do anything about that?”

The detective hesitated, then spoke in a measured tone. “I’m sorry, but without any concrete proof of the kiss or your state at the time, there’s not much we can do about that. The video doesn’t show anything further than the drugging, and no one has corroborated your story.”

Paige’s stomach dropped. Her heart felt like it shattered into pieces.

“So you’re telling me,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady but failing, “that I have no proof that she kissed me while I was unconscious?”

The detective nodded, his voice softer now. “Unfortunately, without any physical evidence or witness accounts, there’s nothing we can do legally about that part of the situation. It’s your word against hers.”

Paige’s hands balled into fists, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The one thing she thought would be enough—enough to prove how messed up everything was—wasn’t.

“You can’t even do anything about the fact that she drugged me? Just because she didn’t touch me the same way?” Paige’s voice broke. She could feel herself spiraling. “I don’t get it. This isn’t okay. This isn’t fair.”

Ice leaned forward, her voice firm but compassionate. “We get it, P. We do. But we can’t let her off the hook just because she’s being sneaky.”

KK added, “We can’t just back down. We’re not gonna let her slide. We’ll find another way to make sure she faces consequences. We will.”

The detective sighed, closing the case file with a resigned look. “We’ll do what we can. But right now, the drugging is the only part we can act on.”

Paige nodded, feeling defeated but still a flicker of hope burning inside her. She wouldn’t let Lexi win. She couldn’t.

“Thank you,” Paige whispered, feeling the weight of the conversation and the long road ahead. “Please, just… do whatever you can. Make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

The detective nodded, looking sympathetic but helpless. “We’ll be in touch.”

As Paige stood up, she glanced at Ice and KK, their faces full of determination. “This isn’t over. I won’t let it be.”

Ice and KK nodded, walking with her out of the station. Paige knew the fight wasn’t over. Lexi might have escaped the law for now, but Paige would make sure she faced the consequences, one way or another. She wasn’t going to give up—not on herself, and definitely not on Azzi.

—----------------

Paige, Ice, and KK sat on a bench outside, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over campus. They were all still processing the visit to the police station, the weight of everything starting to sink in. It felt like a lot had happened in such a short time, and it was hard to believe that it was all because of one person—Lexi.

Paige let out a long breath, her hands resting in her lap as she stared down at the ground. “I still can’t believe that’s all they could do. I thought for sure they’d take me seriously about what happened… but now it feels like I’m the one who has to do everything.”

KK and Ice exchanged glances, both trying to comfort her, but they were also feeling the same frustration. Ice reached over, placing a hand on Paige’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way. You’re not in this alone.”

“I know, but it just… sucks, you know?” Paige’s voice cracked as she looked up at her friends. “I don’t even know how to make it right with Azzi after everything. I didn’t do any of this, but I feel like I ruined everything.”

KK frowned, glancing around the campus. “Hey, look. We’ll figure it out. But you can’t carry all of this alone, okay?”

Before Paige could respond, she saw a girl walking toward them, her eyes locked on Paige. She was around their age, wearing a simple hoodie and jeans, but it was the expression on her face that caught Paige’s attention. The girl looked like she had something important to say.

“Oh my God, I’ve been looking all over for you!” The girl’s voice was a mix of excitement and nervousness, and she approached Paige hesitantly.

Paige furrowed her brow, the familiarity of the situation hitting her. She recognized the girl now. “Wait… you’re the one who was in the bathroom at Ted’s that night. The one who left her phone in the stall.”

The girl’s face brightened as she nodded. “Yeah! I’m Serena. I saw everything that night. I’ve been trying to track you down ever since. I… I didn’t want you to think I was just some random bystander, but I saw what happened with you and that girl, and I think you need to know what I got on my phone.”

Paige’s stomach dropped at the mention of Lexi. “You saw… everything?”

Serena hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to Paige, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I did. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I was suspicious. When I walked into the bathroom and saw you passed out, I noticed that girl—you know, the one who was with you. She was right next to you, and I was just… something about her didn’t sit right with me.”

Paige stiffened, knowing exactly who Serena was talking about.

“So,” Serena continued, “I made sure I set my phone up on the bathroom stall door so it could capture whatever was going on. I had it pointed in the right direction, and when I opened the door and left, I made sure it kept recording.”

Paige blinked in shock. “You were recording me without me knowing?”

Serena nodded. “I know it’s weird, but I didn’t want to just let this go. I watched the footage later, and I saw that girl—Lexi—was kissing you while you were out cold. I don’t know her, but I saw it all. She took a picture of you two kissing too, and then when you woke up, she started acting like nothing happened.”

Paige’s heart started racing as she absorbed what Serena was saying. She had always known there was something off about that night, something in the back of her mind telling her that what she remembered wasn’t all of it. And now Serena had the evidence—the video.

“I knew it,” Paige whispered, her hands trembling. “I knew she kissed me while I was unconscious, but I couldn’t prove it. This—this video…” She couldn’t believe it was real. The weight of everything, the feeling of helplessness, finally started to lift as she realized she wasn’t alone in this.

Serena unlocked her phone and airdropped the video to Paige. “I just wanted to make sure you had this. You deserve to know what happened, especially if it’s going to help you get justice.”

Paige watched the video, her heart sinking as she saw Lexi leaning in and kissing her while she was unconscious, unable to do anything to stop it. She could feel the anger rise in her chest. The way Lexi had manipulated everything—it made her sick.

After the video ended, Serena gave her a small, apologetic smile. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I thought you should know. And if you ever need anything, I’m here. I’m not going to let her get away with it either.”

Paige nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t know what to say—she was overwhelmed, exhausted, and still trying to piece everything together. But one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to let Lexi get away with what she’d done.

“Thank you,” Paige finally whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Serena nodded, standing up to leave. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

As Serena walked away, Paige sat in silence, the video still fresh on her mind. She wasn’t going to let this slide. This was just the beginning.

Paige, Ice, and KK sat in silence for a few moments, each of them processing everything that had just unfolded. The weight of Serena’s words lingered in the air as Paige held her phone in her hand, the video playing over and over in her mind. Her pulse was still racing from the shock of seeing it all again.

Ice was the first to speak, her voice quiet but firm. “This is huge, Paige. I’m glad you’ve got the video now. But what’s next?”

Paige wiped her eyes, her hands still shaking slightly. “I don’t know… I don’t know what to do with this.” She looked down at the phone in her hand, the evidence staring back at her. “I can’t just let this go. This is… this is messed up.”

KK nodded, her expression serious. “You’re right. You need to take this back to the police. You’ve got proof now, and they have to listen.”

Paige took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not letting her get away with this.”

The three of them stood up, and as they walked back to the police station, the reality of the situation started to settle in. Paige’s mind was a whirlwind, thoughts spiraling as she tried to figure out what this all meant for her, for Azzi, for everything. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but she couldn’t just let Lexi’s actions go unpunished.

By the time they arrived at the station, it was nearing late afternoon. The police officers who had initially spoken to Paige greeted them, and the group followed them to a small meeting room. After a quick introduction, Paige handed over her phone, her fingers brushing over the screen as she handed over the damning video.

“We need to make sure this is seen by the right people,” Paige said, her voice steady, though there was a slight tremor underneath.

The officer nodded, watching the video carefully. “We’ve been looking into the situation more closely. We actually got in touch with the staff at Ted’s and got some more details. Looks like Lexi, the girl you mentioned, has been flagged by them before. She’s got a bit of a reputation for making trouble.”

Paige’s heart sank at the mention of Lexi’s name. “You knew about her?”

The officer gave a nod. “Not all the details, but yeah. We’ve heard rumors, and it looks like your situation is part of a pattern. We’re working on getting more concrete evidence. This video definitely helps.”

Paige let out a slow breath, the pressure on her chest easing slightly. “So, you’re saying… this might actually go somewhere?”

“We’re working on it,” the officer said. “We’re reaching out to some of the people involved and pulling more footage from the night. We’ll also be contacting Lexi soon, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Good,” Paige said, feeling a surge of determination. “She’s not going to get away with this.”

Ice and KK stood behind her, their support unwavering. They had seen the weight of the situation settle in on Paige, but now they could see the fire burning in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let this end with a dead-end. They would get justice.

After a few more questions, the officer turned to them. “We’ll be in touch, Paige. You’ve done the right thing by bringing this to us. We’re taking this seriously.”

Paige nodded, relief and anger still mixing in her chest. “Thanks. I just want to make sure no one else has to go through this.”

Once they left the station, Paige felt a slight shift within herself. She wasn’t sure how long it would take, but she finally felt like she was doing something about it. Lexi wasn’t going to get away with her manipulations. And as she walked back with Ice and KK, she knew she wasn’t alone in this fight.

—----------------

Paige, Ice, and KK walked back to their dorm in silence, the weight of everything still pressing heavily on Paige’s chest. She kept thinking back to the conversation at the police station, her fingers itching to reach out to Azzi, but she knew that wasn’t the right move yet. Not when things were still so raw between them.

Once they were back in her room, Paige sat on her bed, pulling out her phone. Her hand hovered over Caroline’s name in her contacts, a wave of hesitation washing over her. Caroline had been pissed at her before, but this time, Paige had to make her understand.

She typed the message, taking a deep breath before pressing send.

Paige: Hey, Caroline. I know things have been rough, and I get why you’ve been shutting me out, but I really need you to listen to me. I owe you an explanation.

The response came quickly, but Caroline’s tone was firm.

Caroline: I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it, Paige. Azzi’s been through enough because of you, and I really don’t think this is something you need to be getting into right now.

Paige’s stomach twisted at the message. She’d expected this, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her.

Paige: Please, just give me a chance to explain. You know I’d never hurt Azzi on purpose. This thing with Lexi��it’s not what you think. It’s a lot worse than you know.

She waited a few moments, watching the three dots appear and disappear as Caroline typed.

Caroline: Fine. But this better be good, Paige. Azzi’s been heartbroken over this for days.

Paige quickly attached the video Serena had sent her and typed the message. Her hands were shaking, but she had to get this out.

Paige: I just got this today. It’s from that night at Ted’s. Lexi drugged me, and she used my phone to message Azzi, pretending to be me. She even sent that picture of us kissing while I was unconscious. I’ve already reported it to the police, and it’s under investigation now. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of monster. This is all on Lexi.

She stared at her phone, her heart pounding in her chest. She had said it. She had finally said it all. There was no turning back now.

Caroline: Wait… what?

The message came a few seconds later, her disbelief clear through the words.

Caroline: I knew something wasn’t right. But I was pissed. I was too pissed about what happened between Azzi and you to think it through properly. I didn’t want to be the one to defend you when Azzi was heartbroken.

Paige’s chest tightened as she read that, the guilt gnawing at her. She understood why Caroline had felt that way, but hearing it out loud still hurt.

Paige: I know. I know, Caroline. And I hate that I made her go through that. But please, you have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt her. I’m doing everything I can to make this right.

Caroline: I just— I don’t even know what to say, Paige. This is a lot.

Paige sank back onto her bed, taking a deep breath. She had to get through to Caroline, she had to.

Paige: I know it’s a lot. I just need you to understand that I was never trying to do anything wrong. I thought I was protecting her, and I failed. But I’m not giving up on her, and I’m not giving up on us.

The message sat there for a long moment before Caroline replied.

Caroline: I’ll talk to Azzi. But you better hope this investigation leads somewhere because she doesn’t deserve to go through all this.

Paige felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she read Caroline’s words. She wasn’t sure what would happen next, but at least she had an opening now. A small one, but enough to build on.

Paige: Thank you. Just… please let her know the truth when you can. I just want to make this right.

Caroline: I will. Just don’t make this worse, Paige.

Paige set her phone down, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She knew this wasn’t over. Far from it. But she’d taken a step. Maybe it was a small one, but it was a start.

As she sat there, Ice and KK glanced at her from across the room, both of them giving her small, reassuring smiles. She didn’t know what would happen next, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like she had a chance at making things right.

—----------------

Caroline paced nervously outside of Azzi’s dorm, her fingers tightening around her phone as she held it in her hands. She had told Paige she would talk to Azzi, but she wasn’t sure how this conversation would go. Azzi had been hurt by Paige, and the last thing Caroline wanted was to make things worse. But, after everything she had seen, she knew the truth needed to come out.

Taking a deep breath, Caroline knocked on Azzi’s door. She heard a faint voice from inside, and with a hesitant nod, she pushed the door open. Azzi was sitting on her bed, a blanket wrapped around her, her eyes red from crying earlier that day.

Azzi looked up, her expression hardening as she saw Caroline. “What’s this about, Caroline? I told you before, I don’t want to talk about Paige right now.”

Caroline took a few steps into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes softening as she looked at Azzi. She had never wanted to be the one to get in the middle of their mess, but this was bigger than anything she could ignore.

“I know, Azzi. I know you don’t want to hear from her. But I think you deserve the truth,” Caroline said, her voice firm but gentle.

Azzi’s brows furrowed, confused. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

Caroline hesitated, then pulled out her phone. “Paige reached out to me. She explained what happened, and I didn’t believe her at first. But then… She sent me something. Proof. Proof that what happened with Lexi wasn’t what we thought.”

Azzi looked at Caroline skeptically. “Proof of what?”

Caroline swiped through her phone and opened the first video. She held it up for Azzi to see, her heart racing. “This is from the night at Ted’s. It’s the moment when Lexi slipped something into Paige’s drink while she was distracted.”

Azzi stared at the screen, her eyes narrowing as she watched the video. She saw Paige, laughing and talking with someone else, unaware of Lexi standing beside her, covertly putting something into her drink. Azzi could feel her stomach twist, but she stayed silent.

Caroline swiped to the next video, her finger shaking slightly as she clicked on it. “And this… This is the part where Lexi kissed Paige while she was unconscious in the bathroom.”

Azzi watched in silence, her lips parted as she saw Lexi leaning down over Paige, who was unconscious in the stall. Lexi kissed her, taking a moment to snap a picture before Paige stirred and pushed her away, visibly confused and disoriented. Azzi could see the tension in Paige’s movements, the way she was fighting to shake off the fog, the way Lexi tried to act like nothing had happened.

Then, Paige’s voice, shaky but strong, rang out in the video, pushing Lexi away. “Why the fuck are you kissing me while I was out? Are you crazy? I’m in a happy relationship right now.”

Lexi, her expression unbothered, smirked. “Well, not anymore,” she said, her words dripping with malice.

Caroline watched as Azzi’s face shifted, her jaw tightening in anger. Azzi’s eyes were glued to the screen, her brows drawn together in disbelief. Caroline couldn’t blame her. Seeing it all play out like this, it was hard to process.

“Do you see it now?” Caroline asked quietly, her voice softer. “Lexi was the one manipulating everything. Not Paige.”

Azzi turned her gaze to Caroline, her face pale. She was quiet for a long time, as if trying to absorb everything. Her emotions were all over the place — hurt, confusion, betrayal.

“I don’t know what to think,” Azzi murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t believe it. I— I don’t know how to feel about it. I should've given her the chance to speak to me but I didn't.”

Caroline reached over and put a hand on Azzi’s shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I get it, Azzi. I really do. Lexi manipulated everything, and she’s the one who needs to be held accountable. Not Paige.”

Azzi shook her head slightly. “I don’t know if I can fully process this straight away. It's gonna take some time. ”

Caroline sighed, understanding the depth of Azzi’s pain. “I know this is a lot. I don’t expect you to process this whole thing right away. But you deserve the truth, Azzi. And now you have it.”

Azzi’s eyes were distant as she stared at her phone, her mind clearly racing. “I need some time. I just… I need time to think about all of this, it's all just new.”

Caroline nodded, standing up and walking toward the door. “I understand. But just remember, don't stress yourself too much because of how you handled it.”

As she left the room, Caroline glanced back at Azzi, who was still sitting on the bed, staring at her phone, the weight of everything settling in.

Outside the door, Caroline’s heart was heavy, but she knew that the truth was out there now. She could only hope that Azzi would come to see that Paige hadn’t been the one who had hurt her.

Azzi sat on her bed, her phone still in her hands, but now everything felt different. The video Caroline had shown her kept replaying in her mind. The look of shock on Paige’s face when she woke up, the way she pushed Lexi away, the argument that followed—it all started to make sense in a way that Azzi hadn’t fully understood before.

But even with the truth laid out before her, Azzi was still struggling. She couldn’t just flip a switch and go back to how things were with Paige. There was too much hurt. But now that she knew what happened with Lexi, it felt wrong to hold onto the anger. It felt like she was holding onto something that wasn’t real anymore.

Azzi took a deep breath, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on Paige’s name. Her finger hovered over the “unblock” option, and for a moment, she just stared at it, her chest tightening. Was she ready to hear from Paige again? Did she want to hear from her?

She thought about the last few days—how she’d kept her distance from Paige, how much she had cried, how much she had wanted answers, even when she wasn’t sure how to get them. Paige had been blocked, shut out from her life, but Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this story. And maybe—just maybe—she needed to hear it from Paige herself.

Azzi tapped the screen, unblocking Paige’s number. It felt like a heavy weight was lifted, but it also felt like she was stepping into unknown territory. Her emotions were still raw, but she knew it was a step toward healing, even if it wasn’t one she was ready to take just yet.

She didn’t message Paige. She couldn’t. Not yet.

Azzi lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind swirling with all the things she still needed to process. She wasn’t sure if she would ever fully heal from what had happened between her and Paige as it has emotionally wrecked her.

This was going to take time.

But unblocking Paige was a start. It was a sign that, maybe, just maybe, she was open to talking again when the time was right. The healing process couldn’t begin without some form of connection, and as much as Azzi hated to admit it, that connection had to come from both sides.

She closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh. “It’s going to take a while,” she whispered to herself, her heart heavy. But for the first time in days, she felt like there was a possibility of moving forward, even if that meant taking baby steps.

For now, that was enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[divinationsanctuary19]

What is your next spiritual lesson? Pick a picture reading

1 2 3

1. Ace of Wands

A powerful new spark of divine inspiration is entering your life, igniting your spiritual journey in unexpected ways. This fresh energy brings with it pure potential and the raw essence of transformation, asking you to embrace your authentic spiritual calling with enthusiasm and courage. Now is the time to trust your inner fire and allow it to guide you toward expanded consciousness and deeper spiritual understanding. The universe is offering you a sacred gift of spiritual awakening - one that promises growth, passion, and enlightenment if you're brave enough to reach out and grasp it. This next phase of your journey calls for bold action and faith in your own intuitive wisdom. Your soul is ready to expand beyond its current limitations, yearning to express itself in more vibrant and authentic ways. Pay attention to sudden bursts of inspiration or unexpected spiritual downloads - they are divine messages guiding you toward your highest path. This emergence of spiritual energy may manifest as a strong desire to start new spiritual practices, explore different teachings, or share your wisdom with others. The universe is aligning to support your spiritual evolution, bringing opportunities that will fan the flames of your inner truth and help you step into your power as a spiritual being.

2. King of swords in reverse

Your spiritual lesson is emerging with swift intensity, bringing a surge of mental clarity and truth-seeking energy. The universe is challenging you to cut through illusions and self-deception with the sharp blade of your intellect, urging you to face spiritual truths head-on, no matter how uncomfortable they might be. This is a time of rapid spiritual advancement where your mind becomes your greatest ally in understanding deeper wisdom. You're being called to approach your spiritual path with determination and unwavering focus, questioning everything and accepting nothing less than authentic understanding. There may be resistance or obstacles, but your fierce commitment to spiritual truth will carry you through. This period demands intellectual honesty and the courage to speak your truth, even when it challenges established beliefs or comfortable assumptions. The winds of change are blowing strongly through your spiritual life, bringing swift developments and sudden insights. Your analytical mind is awakening to new spiritual dimensions, and you're learning to balance the sword of discernment with the gentleness of wisdom. This is not a time for passive acceptance or gentle contemplation - rather, it's a period of active pursuit of spiritual knowledge, requiring you to be bold, direct, and uncompromising in your quest for understanding the deeper mysteries of existence.

3. The Hierophant

Your spiritual journey is calling you to embrace the wisdom of ancient traditions and established spiritual paths. This is a time of seeking guidance from those who have walked the sacred ways before you, recognizing that sometimes the most profound truths are found in time-tested teachings and traditional practices. The universe is guiding you toward structured spiritual learning, suggesting that your next level of growth may come through formal study, mentorship, or joining a spiritual community. There's deep value in becoming both student and eventual teacher, learning to honor the sacred knowledge that has been passed down through generations while finding your own authentic way to embody these eternal truths. This phase of your journey emphasizes the importance of spiritual discipline and commitment to established practices, even as you maintain your individual connection to the divine. You're being called to bridge the gap between conventional wisdom and personal revelation, finding ways to honor tradition while staying true to your own spiritual authenticity. This may be a time to seek out a spiritual teacher or mentor who can help guide you through established teachings, or to deepen your commitment to religious or spiritual institutions that resonate with your soul's truth. Remember that sometimes the most revolutionary insights come through working within established frameworks, finding new meaning in ancient wisdom.

If u need a reading, hit me up

[justboredtingz]

Used || Sosuke Aizen x Reader🔞

Idk i just felt like writing something for my guilty pleasure. it’s smutty of course but pretty vanilla imo. That’s okay tho! 没入せよ

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The night air in Las Noches was cold, unnaturally so, like it had been touched by death and sealed in a vacuum of white stone and silence. You stood in the long hallway just beyond the throne room, your heartbeat a whisper beneath the vast echo of this hollow fortress. His presence lingered behind you like a ghost, his being you could never fully grasp.

You had defected for him. For Sōsuke Aizen.

The man whose eyes carried the weight of what felt like the entire universe and yet, when they brushed against you in passing, made your body tremble with something far more devastating than fear. It was want. Pure, ruinous want. A hunger born of watching him from the sidelines, of hearing his voice twist commands from honey into venom, of feeling the pull of his reiatsu like silk wrapping around your throat, your vessels.

You had been a lieutenant once. One who was proud, loyal, and righteous. You remembered the first time you saw him up close during your introduction. Aizen had been calm and soft-spoken, glasses resting gently on the bridge of his nose, every syllable he spoke pressing into your skin like an intimate confession. That version of him—refined, restrained, deceptive—was the one you should have been able to resist. But even then, your soul recognized his gravity immediately. You knew then:

You wanted to be close to him.

You wanted to kneel before him.

You wanted him to take your loyalty in both hands and bend it, mold it, use it.

And when the betrayal came, when Soul Society shattered under the weight of his defection, you didn’t hesitate. You followed. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t beg for explanation. You stood at his side, quietly, like a shadow blooming under his light.

You weren’t naïve. You knew what you were to him. An extra pawn. A convenient tool. Something that bled for him, that killed for him, that smiled through the silence of his indifference because it meant you were still by his side.

But gods—you loved him.

You loved him with a kind of madness that lived in the space between your ribs and rattled every time he walked past. You ached for him in the quiet hours, when the Espada slept and the palace grew still. You burned for him when he spoke to you with that low, unreadable voice that never gave you more than scraps. He always gave you the bare minimum, and yet, you yearned with every fiber of your being. Aizen never touched you. He didn’t need to.

He looked at you—and you shattered.

But he would never love you. Yet still you watched him like a sinner craves the divine. You’d let him use you. Let him lie to you. Let him break you into pieces if it meant one day, he might reach for you in the dark— not because he needed you, but because he wanted you.

Just once.

Just one moment where the world fell away and it was only his mouth on yours, his hands pressing into the hunger he created.

You’d give him anything. Everything. and he knew it.

———————

Tonight, the silence in Las Noches is different. Heavy. Something is coming. You can feel it in your bones, your soul humming like a struck tuning fork. When Aizen summoned you to his private chamber, you knew. Something was ending. Or beginning. Or both.

You entered the chamber like a lamb to slaughter.

He stood near the far wall gazing out his balcony, back to you, white coat swaying slightly with the force of his reiatsu and the wind. His voice was low when he spoke.

“You’ve been loyal,” he said, hands folded behind him. “Impressively so.”

You said nothing. Praise from Aizen was like sunlight in Hueco Mundo, something seemingly unreal. You held your composure, fists tightening around the cloth of your robe.

“But even loyalty has a price,” he continued, finally turning. His eyes locked on yours, molten amber. “And I must ask something more of you.”

Your breath hitched.

The words weren’t dramatic. There was no fanfare. But you felt them like a blade pressing lightly to your skin. He wasn’t asking. He was informing. The way he always did.

Your heart pounded. “Anything,” you whispered. “You know that.”

A faint smile curved his lips, and it cursed you. This smile alone is what kept you here during the times of doubt.

“The Hōgyoku is nearing completion,” he said. “But there is one final condition it requires. Something… rare. A soul fully surrendered—not just in death, but in desire. Devotion. Someone who gives themself willingly, with no resentment, no fear.”

He didn’t name you. But the implication bled between the words like ink in water.

Of course it was you. Of course it would be you.

And the worst part was you’d always known it would end like this.

“You want me to die for it,” you said softly. “For you.”

“I want you to choose it,” he corrected, walking toward you with that calm, calculated stride that made your knees weak. “That is what gives it power.”

Choose. As if you had a choice. As if your fate hadn’t been sealed the day you first looked into his eyes and mistook his godhood for salvation.

Your lips trembled. “Will it matter?”

He tilted his head slightly. “To the world? Yes. To me?” His smile widened just enough to hurt. “You would serve your purpose.”

Serve your purpose. Yet another reminder of the scalding fact you were only a tool for him, one he could put down and throw at any time. Yet..

If this was the end…

If this was the last time…

“I’ll do it,” you whispered. Your voice shook, but the vow was clear. “But…”

His gaze didn’t waver.

Your knees buckled beneath the weight of it all—love, grief, desperation—and you sank before him, falling to the cold white floor without grace. You didn’t care. You knelt like a worshiper before her god, hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of his robes. Your head bowed, not in submission but in longing too profound to carry upright. Your entire body shook from holding it in for too long.

“Please,” you choked out, voice breaking as your forehead pressed against his thigh. “Just once. Please use me. Not as your pawn. Not as your soldier. Just… let me feel like I was yours. Even if it’s just a lie.”

He looked down at you, expression unreadable.

“And what would that look like, to you?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. “If I were to use you?”

You looked up at him, eyes wet, mouth parted. “You’d kiss me,” you said. “Touch me. Make me feel wanted. Even if it’s pretend. Let me be yours in the only way I can be.”

He paused for a moment, the small smile never leaving his lips.

Then, slowly, he reached down, fingers threading into your hair as if weighing the texture, the obedience in your posture.

“To reward you…” he murmured, his voice like velvet soaked in poison, “I’ll use you the way you want to be used.”

Your breath caught.

“I’ll take your body,” he continued, his other hand grazing your cheek, “as if it were mine—no.. because it is mine. I will ruin you with the same elegance I will destroy the soul society with.”

A soft sound escaped your lips, a pitiful whimper sounding of a beg.

“I won’t love you,” he said, calmly. “But I will give you everything else.”

And somehow, impossibly, that was enough.

Aizen stepped back from you slowly, his fingers untangling from your hair with purpose, as though marking the end of one role and the beginning of another. He gazed down at you—still on your knees, lips parted, body shivering not from fear but from anticipation— Like a god surveying the altar prepared in his name.

“Stand,” he said simply.

You moved instantly, unsteady legs pulling you upward even as your heart tried to sink through the floor. Your breathing was shallow, chest rising and falling like a maiden before the pyre. His gaze didn’t leave you as you stood, hands clenched at your sides, unsure if you should reach for him or remain still.

He took his time circling you, one hand raised to lightly drag along your jaw, the curve of your shoulder, the small of your back—like he was appraising a statue made in his image. Possession bloomed in every touch, in every glance.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time,” he said, now behind you, his breath brushing your ear. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, throat tight.

“Say it louder.”

“Yes.” You obeyed.

He hummed, pleased. “You’ll do exactly as I say,” he continued, “and only when I allow it.”

“Yes, Aizen-sama.”

“Good girl.”

Your knees almost gave out again.

He stepped in front of you and let his haori fall from his shoulders. It slid down like water, pooling at his feet in silence. The sight of him—still clothed, but disarmed of the captain’s illusion—felt more dangerous than any enemy. He didn’t need armor. He was the weapon.

“Undress,” he said.

Your fingers fumbled slightly at first, nerves stuttering in the presence of command. But you didn’t hesitate. You shed the thin kimono you wore, baring inch after inch of skin until nothing remained but your breath and the racing pulse at your throat.

“On the bed,” he ordered.

You moved without thought, stepping back until your legs hit the edge of his impossibly luxurious bed—a surreal contrast to the cold starkness of Las Noches. You climbed on slowly, crawling toward the center as your heart thudded with anticipation. He watched you from the foot of the bed, eyes glinting like obsidian, arms crossed loosely behind his back.

“Kneel.”

You obeyed.

“Hands behind your back. Chest up.”

You shifted, sitting on your heels as your back arched slightly, your body exposed and offered. You crossed your arms behind your back, holding onto your forearms as some sort of anchor for you.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You lifted your gaze. The air itself seemed to still.

“I want you to remember something,” he said, stepping closer now, finally reaching the edge of the bed. His voice was silk threaded with iron. “This is not love.”

You nodded.

“This is not mercy.”

Another nod.

“This is worship,” he whispered, “and you are the one offering it.”

You trembled at his gaze, mouth dry, core burning with need so sharp it felt like punishment.

He climbed onto the bed with fluid grace, not crawling—approaching, like a celestial being crossing the sky. His knees settled on either side of you, tall and commanding as he looked down into your upturned face. His hand reached out to cup your cheek.

“Do you still want this?” he asked, almost taunting.

“Yes,” you breathed. “More than anything.”

He leaned in, lips brushing just beside your ear, not touching it. Not quite.

“Then earn it.”

His hand traveled down your face to your throat, resting there—not squeezing, just reminding you of how little power you had. His thumb stroked the hollow of your neck.

“Use your mouth,” he instructed, shifting his hips just slightly forward. He loosened his shihakusho just enough to expose his cock.

“Worship me with it.”

You didn’t even need to think. You leaned in like a supplicant before a holy relic, your lips brushing his abdomen, the soft trail of skin just above his waistband. You kissed gently, licking reverently, up and down the plane of his stomach, tasting the heat of him, the perfection of his form. Every breath you took was laced with desperation.

“Slower,” he murmured. “Drag your lips. Let me feel your devotion.”

You did, letting your mouth move across his body as though it were sacred text. You weren’t just kissing— you were praying.

He guided you with small tugs to your hair, placing your lips on any spot he wanted you to be. When he finally allowed your mouth to close over the tip of his member, your body nearly buckled with gratitude. You made quick work of it, rolling your tongue and sucking fervently. He held you to where you could only reach the tip, but it was more than enough to have your legs trembling with need. Desperate moans were falling from your lips.

He groaned low—almost amused, almost indulgent.

“Look at you,” he murmured, brushing hair from your face as you worked, your mouth warm and obedient around him. “So desperate to be mine. To be used.”

You moaned around him, cheeks flushed, shame and pleasure coiling in your belly like something alive. Every time he praised you, every time he tugged your hair or pushed your head down just a little further, you felt closer to divinity. Closer to obliteration. At some point, he used your throat like a sex toy. He rocked your head on his cock, forcing you to take him in fully— lips touching the hilt.

When he finally pulled you off of him, you were gasping, lips swollen, eyes glassy and watering. This was total bliss.

“Lie back,” he commanded.

You obeyed.

And as he loomed over you, Aizen smiled, not out of lust, but conquest.

You laid back, spine sinking into silk sheets, skin flushed and bare beneath the cool air of Las Noches. Aizen didn’t move right away.

He watched.

His eyes roamed your body— clinical, composed, assessing whether what lay before him was worthy of use. It made your heart race. You’d been stripped down to nothing—of rank, of pride, of self. What remained was want. The kind that pulsed between your thighs and stole your breath every time his gaze lingered. He didn’t need to ask if you worshipped him. He knew.

Aizen finally moved, steps quiet as he approached the bed. His robes slid from his shoulders with practiced ease, pooling to the ground without a sound. The sight of him undressing wasn’t hurried or lewd, but more Like watching gravity pull a star into collapse.

He climbed onto the bed until he hovered over you, knees straddling your hips, his body a silhouette of divine command.

“I told you this would not be love,” he said.

You nodded. Your voice failed you.

“It will not be gentle.”

You swallowed. “I understand.”

He kept reminding you that it’s not what you wish it would be. As if he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. You didn’t care, you were going to pretend. Pretend that the holy being above you loved you in the same way you loved him.

His hand came to your chest, resting over your heart. The heat of it, his reiatsu pulsing just beneath skin, somehow pooling into your blood, made your breath hitch.

“You’ve always belonged to me,” he said. “I can feel the way your soul begs for me to command it. To use it. To own it.”

He shifted downward, his lips ghosting over the inside of your thigh, never fully planting onto the flesh. Just presence. You arched slightly, but his palm pressed your hip back into the mattress with effortless pressure. The command was silent, but absolute: Do not move.

You obeyed.

His fingers skimmed along the seam of your body, grazing lightly—never dipping where you needed him most. He was measured. Controlled. Like a surgeon dissecting need with calculated precision.

You ached.

And he knew.

Although completely bare, Aizen exuded restraint. He hadn’t fully indulged because he didn’t need to yet. He hadn’t given you permission to have him yet. Your body shook beneath the tension.

Then, without a word, he pressed his fingers between your legs.

You cried out from the sheer relief of being touched. Of finally being acknowledged. You spread your thighs farther apart— you could cum right then and there if you felt like you wouldn’t be punished for it.

He watched your reaction closely, his expression unreadable.

“You’re already this wet for me,” he said, not teasing—just stating a fact, a quiet observation that made shame burn under your skin.

His fingers moved slowly, drawing circles in maddening patterns that never satisfied. You wanted to writhe. To beg. But something in you knew he wouldn’t reward chaos. Only obedience.

He pulled away just as you reached the edge of moaning. You gasped, but you didn’t speak. Aizen shifted, looming over you with his palms pressed to the bed on either side of your head. Loose chocolate strands fell, framing his features. You were looking at a god. A higher being you weren’t worthy of being under, but you didn’t care. Everything you’ve ever done was for this moment.

When he positioned himself between your legs, he didn’t warn you. He didn’t ask. He simply entered you in one slow, searing motion.

The stretch of him, the fullness, it was too much and not enough all at once. Your fingers clenched into the sheets, your mouth falling open in a voiceless cry.

Still, he didn’t move.

He remained there, deep inside, letting your body adjust to him. Letting the knowledge of what he was doing sink in.

“You will not speak,” he said, voice low and final. “Not unless I give you permission.”

You nodded quickly, trying not to shake.

“Good.”

His hips moved with a devastating precision, slow and deep. Not hurried. Not frenzied. He wasn’t trying to make you come. He was claiming you. Every thrust pushed the air from your lungs, every retreat made your body weep to be filled again.

You didn’t dare reach for him. You knew your place.

But he reached for you.

One hand pinned your wrist to the bed, fingers wrapped around your pulse like he was measuring your devotion in heartbeats. His other hand held your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your lips as he watched your open-mouthed expression unravel beneath him.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Unmade. And I’ve barely begun.”

Your eyes fluttered shut from the pressure building inside. You wanted to moan his name over and over, praying to the man above you, but you held it in.

His hand tightened slightly on your face. “No. Keep them open.”

You did.

You looked up at him as he moved inside you—steady, merciless, beautiful. And in his gaze you saw it: not affection or cruelty, But purpose. You were a means to an end. A vessel. As he said before, this wasn’t love and it never would be, yet tears still slipped from the corners of your eyes. Tears of joy. You were overwhelmed with happiness to be used by the man you love.

His breath grew heavier now, chest rising and falling in time with his thrusts. Still measured. Still elegant. But his eyes were locked on yours.

You couldn’t hold it in. “Aizen-sama,” you whispered, breaking the rule.

His pace didn’t falter, but his expression seemed disappointed. “Yes?”

“Please,” you gasped. “The kiss. Just once. Please.”

He said nothing for a moment. His rhythm stayed steady. precise and unwavering.

Then, finally—finally—he leaned down.

His lips brushed yours, hovering, lingering there for just a moment as he stared into your eyes. The eye contact make your chest swell, tears started pouring down your cheeks as you whimpered and cried.

Then, he caught your lips in a deep kiss. It was a seal. A mark. A kiss of ownership. He moved against you, tongue invading your mouth and tasting every part of it. Your lips moved together so perfectly, you never wanted it to end.

And as his mouth claimed yours, and his body moved faster, harder, devastating in its power, you knew—

This was the end you wanted.

However, it was short lived as Aizen’s mouth left yours, but he no longer held back. The motion of his hips sharpened, still controlled, but now purposeful—driving deeper, harder than what you felt like you could handle. but of course you would. Your hands clenched in the sheets, body arching instinctively beneath him. He pinned you down with a single hand at your sternum, pressing you into the mattress like a butterfly being framed.

Your moans broke free, no longer pretty or restrained. They came in staggered gasps, whimpers, fractured syllables of his name. His body was relentless, never faltering, each thrust pushing you closer to something you weren’t sure you could survive.

He didn’t look down at you with tenderness. He looked down at you like a monument to his power.

Your thighs trembled uncontrollably. Your skin slick with sweat. You were unraveling under him, bit by bit, breath by breath, until you were nothing but need.

“Ai—Aizen-sama, agh!! Please—I’m—”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore. Release? Mercy? More?

He didn’t answer.

He gripped your jaw to anchor you. To remind you whose body this was. You met his gaze and saw nothing but calm, perfect calculation. And still it made your whole being quake.

His pace changed, deeper now, the deepest he’s been, slower again, every roll of his hips dragging a sob from your lungs.

You were full of him.

Consumed by him.

Destroyed by him.

And still you wanted more.

Your climax built like pressure beneath the skin, like something sacred breaking open inside your chest. It hit you all at once, violent, wracking, your cry echoing through the cold chamber like prayer turned scream. Your body convulsed beneath him, clinging, pulsing, offering.

Only when you were limp beneath him—shaking, twitching, vision blurred—did Aizen’s body tense. His thrusts grew sloppy— well as sloppy as such a perfect man could be. Less performative you suppose. You felt the shift.

This wasn’t for you.

This was for him.

You barely had time to brace for it. His hand on your jaw tightened. His mouth brushed your ear, and he whispered, not sweetly but with finality:

“Remember this.”

He came inside you with a deep, silencing groan, hips stuttering against yours as he emptied himself. His body folded over yours just slightly, enough to cage you, enough to make you feel truly taken. Truly used.

And then… stillness.

His breath was soft at your neck. His body heavy over yours.

And yet, the chill returned just as quickly. His presence pulled back from you like a tide retreating from shore. You lay beneath him, ruined. Shaking. Your thighs still parted. Your lips swollen. Your soul… aching.

He withdrew.

You whimpered faintly at the loss. You thought maybe he would say something. Hold you. Offer one final indulgence.

But Aizen simply stood, fluid and unbothered, retrieving his robe.

You turned your face to the side, breath uneven.

“Was I… enough?” you asked, barely audible.

His hand paused as he fastened his belt.

“You served your purpose,” he said.

That was all.

You nodded, the tears falling without sound now. You hadn’t expected love. You hadn’t even hoped for it. But the finality of those words still hit like steel through the ribs.

You sat up, weakly, drawing the blanket over your chest as if that could preserve what was left of you. He was already walking away, back turned, the same as ever.

But before he reached the door, he stopped.

Without facing you, he spoke once more.

“You will be remembered— ” he said. “As the final key.”

Your throat clenched. “And when it’s done?”

He didn’t answer.

Of course he wouldn’t.

Aizen never told you the ending. He only gave you the part you had to play.

And you would play it.

Gladly.

Because even if he never loved you, even if this night was the only touch he’d ever offer—you had been his.

Truly his.

If only for one night.

[twstfanblog]

*~Fatherhood Fables~*

A/N: Hello all, and a happy Father's Day! I'm so proud I managed to get this ready in time for the holiday. A special thank you to @bun-lapin for letting me use her lovely OC Hui-Yan because I ship her and Lilia in my canon. This is one of many ways I have to sling shooting my OCs that I've never spoken about at you guys. There's a little info block after the story for any questions you'd have. But also, if you wanna learn more about them, don't hesitate to send in an ask, enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of surgery in Skully's part, Mentions of burn injuries in Rollo's part, Mentions of cannibalism in RiddlexFloyd's part Pairings: YuuxMalleusxAzulxJamil, RiddlexFloyd, TreyxJade, CaterxIdia, AcexDeucexJackxEpel, LeonaxRuggie, VilxRook, SebekxSilver Word Count: 6.2 K (Each ficlet is around 400-500 words)

Riddle x Floyd

Sunday brunches had become a fun weekend tradition in their household. Everyone would sleep in late, have a morning of lazing around in pajamas before heading to a delightful seaside bistro along the boardwalk. The restaurant had a wide range of menu items, though they were most famous for their fresh-caught seafood selection, Floyd and Larimar’s favorite feature of the bistro. But, as Riddle sat across his family in the booth, he felt concerns bubbling up in his mind. While Floyd was eating an almost nauseatingly big seafood platter, Larimar was ripping apart a king crab with his teeth and bare hands.

The five-year-old was deceptively small, Riddle could hold him comfortably for nearly two hours straight, but had a grip strength that could potentially crack bones if he put his mind to it. So, to watch his adopted child snap the spiny shell like a twig wasn’t what worried him. It was the glee and speed that Larimar devoured the meat inside of it.

“...Floyd, should we be encouraging this?”

The Eel-Mer looked up from his plate, chewing absent-mindedly on a fishbone, “Encourage what?” 

“...” Riddle gestured to the side, raising an eyebrow at the sickening crack of shell under tiny hands, “Our child?”

Floyd glances to his right, raising an eyebrow at Larimar dipping crab meat into a bowl of butter, “He’s eating?”

“...” Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Crab, Floyd. He’s eating crab. Is that…Should he be doing this? Is this not some form of cannibalism?”

“Hmmm…Well…” Floyd takes the moment to place a hand on Larimar’s head, his aggressive hair tussling not slowing the child down from his meal in the slightest, “He’s a coconut crab. He’s already a cannibal.”

…

“What?”

“Ah, are you worried?” Floyd moves his hand, shoving a finger into Larimar’s mouth. The child barely registered the added meat in his maw, chewing on his father’s finger before realizing the different taste. His face pinches, making a loud retching sound, and tilting his head to remove Floyd’s finger.

Floyd held up his hand, the index finger bloody, “See? He doesn’t even like how I taste. Plus, he’s way too small to kill either of us on his own.”

Sighing, Riddle passes his husband a napkin for his bleeding finger, “I can tell you’re trying to calm me and it’s not working.” Riddle wonders if there was a parenting book on raising your child to not be a cannibal…

Trey x Jade

Piping flowers with two small icicles pressed to his ribs had become a skill Trey didn't think he'd develop in his adulthood. Sighing, Trey finished a rose, using his scissors to pluck it from the nail and hold it to the child clinging to him, “One more for me?”

Icsac pulled his face from the fabric of Trey's sweater, dark blue eyes still wet with unshed tears. He blew gently, the fog of air hardening the frosting by chill alone before he tucked his head right back into Trey's side.

The flower joined the other chilled blossoms, tucked in neatly with fresh, unfrozen buttercream and piped leaves. He taps the child on the head, smiling at the nervous face looking up to him, “I gotta put this in the fridge, ok?”

Icsac pouts, but detaches from his side, quickly ducking behind the island to be out of view from the other side.

With another sigh, Trey makes sure the customer's order was safely in the fridge before looking at the others in his kitchen, “Ok. What happened?”

While Icsac ducked lower, Jade remained completely unbothered at his station of stirring the bubbling jam insert. The mer hummed, turning to Trey in question, “What do you mean? Clearly, there wasn't a small mishap of any sort.”

Icsac's head just barely poked over the edge of the island, pointed ears almost drooping, “I…I accidentally killed one of papa's new mushrooms…” The ice fae turned toward Jade, “I said I was sorry…”

Trey raised an eyebrow toward Jade, “He's apologized. You're the adult in this situation.”

“And I believe a proper punishment is to return him to foster care.”

“Jade!” Trey's yell barely overcomes the high-pitched whine of Icsac.

Jade laughed, turning off the stove and moving the pot to the counter, “You two clearly need to learn when I'm joking.”

Trey sighed, letting Icsac cling and cry into his shirt, "I can tell. Icsac is still getting used to you.”

Walking over, Jade knelt to the ground to be more eye level with Icsac, patting the eight-year-old on the shoulder to gain his attention, “I brought you home myself, not to mention forging the proper licensing and paperwork to be listed as your foster parents-”

“Yeah, we should be trying to make that actually legal-”

“-I have no plans on giving you back.” Jade finished off his speech by bringing Icsac closer, pressing a kiss to the sniffling fae's forehead. Standing back up, Jade continued, “Plus, since that mushroom did completely break down after exposure to below freezing temperatures, the seller lied to me.”

Trey sighed, shaking his head before walking across the kitchen, “So that's what you were mad about.”

Jade had bent at his hip, tilting his head in question to his son, “Icsac, what is the internal temperature land mammals start to shut down?”

“32°C.”

“And how cold can you make your ice?”

“Um…-400°C?”

Trey had walked back over, whispering into Jade's ear with a stern expression, “Don't use our son to kill people.”

“Oh, I would never…”

Cater x Idia

Idia drummed his fingers in increasingly complex beat patterns, a nervous tick he had unfortunately picked up in his adult life. Though he knew everything was perfectly fine and safe, he couldn't help but worry over one of his little AI-fants entering a physical body for the first time.

Ortho had spent almost half a year simply designing what he called a ‘new era of robotics’. And Idia had to agree with him, seeing the specs. Nanobot repairing systems, flexible synthetic skin paneling, realistic feet. Ortho had outdone himself in an effort to make his nephew as ‘human-passing’ as possible. And while Apollo would probably never have an arm canon, the 500 million-volt taser was more than enough to make Cater and him feel assured of their child’s safety.

Cater was beside the body, having dressed it in a loose-fitting shirt and shorts combo while Idia and Ortho ran final checks, “Sunshine, why did you want a physical body? I know you said it was for dancing, but you can do that in one of the digital spaces your Papa Idi made for you, cuties.”

Apollo hummed, a tiny sun sprite on the screen hovering around the checklist, “Because~, I wanna learn to dance. Learning stuff is more like uploading here. I wanna have a physical body that has to learn the movements. It'll be that more amazing when I perform!”

Idia laughed under his breath, making sure every system was fully connected before closing out the maintenance tab, “I show you idol groups one time and you’ve been stuck on them ever since. It’s ok to be interested in other things, you know…”

Rolling his eyes, Cater handed Ortho the transfer wire, “Look who's talking. Ortho, all ready?”

With a thumbs up, Ortho winked at the sun sprite on the screen, “On your mark!”

Apollo rushed into the body, the wires connecting it to the main computer flashed in an iridescent sheen before a ‘Download Complete’ message was shown on the screen. The body's hair starts to ignite, off-white strands quickly gaining a reddish hue to match Cater’s hair. Two big eyes blink open, irises turning like a color wheel before they settle on yellow to match Idia.

Sitting up, Apollo looked at his hands and limbs in amazement, “Whoa…everything is…so 3D…”

Apollo was attempting to move off the platform before Ortho could warn him. Both of the height and the fact that he wasn’t properly prepped to try walking unaided yet. Every adult in the room screams when the baby android goes face first into the floor, a small cracking sound being heard on impact.

While Ortho rushes to the computer, pulling up programs to start diagnostics and repair systems, Idia and Cater fret over their child's cracked face plate and nose leaking a pale blood fluid. 

The baby android rubs his face, looking at the fluid in wonder. Apollo’s eyes only seem to glow brighter, realizing just how human his experience was going to be, “This is gonna be awesome!”

Ace x Deuce x Jack x Epel

“Hey! Put him down, don't you try to sway the judge in your favor.” Ace scowled, glaring at Epel from his place on the floor.

Epel glared back, pausing in pressing kisses and raspberries to Russell's cheeks, the baby giggling and squealing over his smallest father’s deadpan voice, “Ah birthed the damn babe, Ah’ll kiss and tickle ‘em as Ah please.”

Ace huffed, pointing to the large round rug he was sitting on the edge of, “You can't get him all primed for play, he'll just crawl to you instead of actually picking! Put him down!”

It was a stupid idea, but dinner wasn't going to be ready for another thirty minutes, so they had time to do stupid things. Russell's first birthday had just passed, their son much bigger than the tiny redheaded baby Epel had cursed and sworn was a demon from the deepest crevices of Tartarus. With four people taking care of him, Ace had been convinced that their son had a clear favorite among his fathers. And what easier way to showcase it than allowing him to pick which he preferred?

Epel and Ace had continued making faces at each other as they argued, Ace stopping short on a sentence to yell and point at someone standing behind Epel.

Turning around, Epel clicked his tongue and glared at a sheepish-looking Jack with a now-empty baby spoon in hand, “‘EY!?”

The beastman shrugged, looking away as Russell made grabby hands toward him, “I just wanted to make sure he still liked mashed potatoes…”

“Of course he does!”

“It's basically the only thing the lil bugger eats now!”

Sabotage aside, the three of them sat — IN EQUAL DISTANCE — from their son in the middle of the carpet. All of them smile at the baby, cooing and making eye-catching hand movements to coax their son to them. The race was tight, Russell moving around the rug to each parent but never within grabbing range for someone to claim victory. 

Ace smiled, elation clear on his face when Russell started to make a beeline for him, “That’s it! Come to daddy!”

Epel frowned, trying to wave Russell toward him, “No! Come to yur mama, baby! Ah fed ya!”

“Epel, that is the literal bare minimum…” Jack spoke, his ears pressed to his head.

But when Russell crawls past Ace, still babbling excitedly, the three look up. Deuce had come home without any of them hearing the front door, already having removed his officer’s jacket, he held a white cake box and scooped a squealing Russell into his free arm. He kisses Russell on the temple, smiling to the group and holding out the tote, “I brought home cake! Why are you all sitting on the rug?”

…

Epel sighed, closing his eyes in what could only be called defeat, “Ah can’t fault his choice…”

“Juice really was the obvious answer to this…”

“We’d all make the same pick…”

Deuce looked at his husbands in confusion, “What are you guys talking about?”

Leona x Ruggie

Leona was sure that if his younger self could see him, he'd mark him a poor imposter and sentence him to death. Because at no point in his adolescence did he ever think he'd be lying under a tree in the backyard of his villa, being accosted by multiple children putting bows in his hair.

But he was, and that was his life. Taking in eight kids who had broken into his and Ruggie's kitchen had now led to over a hundred wayward children in their care. He couldn't complain. It's what he wanted to do in the first place: to offer change and a chance to those who'd never receive one otherwise. With a heavy sigh, he turned his head to watch Ruggie with a different flock of children. Jabari, standing beside him sticking out like a sore thumb as one of only three hyena beastmen in their current care.

The older hyena was kneeling, pointing to budding plants in a garden plot with kids enraptured in his explanation. Ruggie had thought it up only a few weeks ago, wanting the children in their care to know how to supply their own food. The threat of hunger was always on his mind, even after their years together and the literal basement full of provisions.

At a sharp tug, Leona growls, tilting his head away from over-eager hands, “Don't try to brush my dreads. You'll pull all my hair out.”

Sadiki pouts at him, her hyena ears and arms folding after throwing the hairbrush to the ground in frustration. Akili pipes up, tying even more ribbons into his hair that smaller kids hand him while others clip in barrettes.

“You should get rid of them so we can brush your hair again.”

He got them because these brats managed to brush his hair to the point he had an actual mane. He doesn't say that, never wanting to make the little nuisances feel bad. But instead of saying that, he shakes his head, stopping Akili from tying another bright green ribbon in his hair and making the barrettes click and clack against each other. As the younger kids all giggle, he moves to stand up, ignoring their whining.

“Alright, enough of this. I have to make sure you brats have food tomorrow.”

Sadiki stands, gripping onto his pant leg and trying to stop him from leaving the shade of the tree, “We have enough! Play with us!”

“...” Leona scoffs, smirking down at the little girl before bumping her off, making her roll down the hill with a shrill scream, “Says you. The second you don't get a snack, you'll try to run away again.” He watches as the other kids decide rolling their way down is the better idea. He laughs under his breath, walking into the house and leaving the sounds of laughter outside.

Azul

He floated in front of his children, his two beautiful girls with the love of his life, head in his hands. They were too much like their mother, from the weakness they made in his hearts and down to their violent nature. It was supposed to be a quick and easy deal, one so quick and easy that both parties had brought their children along as they discussed the final terms of their contract.

From the quiet atmosphere, there was a sudden scream. He and his client both assumed the children were playing together. Only to realize the scream wasn't full of joy, but was actually a singular child wailing. Instead of finding the children being threatened by a shark or other creature, they found his two perfect girls absolutely throttling the other child. Now the two mer groups were floating apart from each other. His client checking over her still crying child, and him attempting to scold his darlings after having to forcibly pull them off the boy.

“...I don't…I don't even have the words. What in the seven seas were you thinking?”

Scylar had spoken up first, pointing to the whimpering child clinging to his furious mother, “He was bein’ a cunt!”

“Scylar.”

Charysa wasn't far behind, pouting as she pointed toward the other child too, “Mama said we don't take shit from nobody down here!”

“Charysa!?”

Azul glances over his shoulder at the angry woman with her son tucked close to her tail. Turning back to his own treasures, he curled down and whispered harshly, “Now, I would never be one to tell you not to defend yourselves, it’s basic instinct and I’m fully aware of what your mother is like. But, there are two of you and one of him, it was clearly in your favor. I beg you girls to be a bit more covert.”

Charysa whines, her tentacles swaying as she twists in faux nervousness, “But, daddy…he was being mean.”

“Girls-”

Scylar shot forward, leaning over Azul’s shoulder and pointing toward the still whimpering child, “He was trying to pick on us, because he said his mommy picked on you, and it was fine because you were an octotwerp and we’d be no better!”

…

Azul turns. He stared down the now familiar woman, her expression now slightly panicked as she nearly sweat under water, “...Oh? Is that so?”

Jamil

If Jamil were a person who could joke about his childhood, he'd claim he became a father at six. That was when he became aware of the fact that he'd have to be the one who made sure Kalim didn't eat poison off the ground or walk into traffic. But now, in his early twenties, a small person strapped to his chest, Jamil wonders if Kalim was really as bad as he thought he was growing up. Maybe he was simply too small to be taking care of Kalim the way he was.

Because JJ was clingy, clingy to a point he and Yuu were mildly concerned he was some form of colic from how hard he'd cry if he wasn't being held. But, without fail, the second he was in their arms, he'd go quiet. Maybe fussy if he still wanted a bottle. But normally-

A sharp tug to his side bang makes Jamil's thoughts pause, looking down at big matching coal eyes as he gently detangles his son's tiny fingers from his hair, “Yes, my little Viper, can you be helped?”

Jamil had only known JJ for about four months, and he already knows every last one of his son's responses. A pout means he's too hot, and Jamil needs to figure out how to cool him without removing him from his body. His tongue sticking out is hungry. Normally, it was, anyway. Jamil had learned that JJ will do it if caught staring or simply ‘Being a silly’ as Yuu would call it. There was no tell Jamil needed for a diaper change. With his son normally strapped directly to his person, Jamil could tell the moment he’s son so much as farted.

The more recent response, Jamil thought with a warmth in his heart, was his favorite. JJ had started to smile, eyes crinkling as a small laugh bubbled out of him. A development that had both Yuu and Jamil claiming their son looked like the other. While Yuu brought up the fact JJ was his actual clone, Jamil would counter that JJ smiled more like Yuu than himself.

With the very act of being perceived being all he wanted, JJ moved to press his cheek back to Jamil's chest. Seeing the baby had settled himself, Jamil could help but smile himself. Going back to folding the laundry as he thought, ‘Silly…’

Kalim

“Moe~, are you sure you're okay staying home? It'll be fun to introduce you to your grandparents, all of your aunts and uncles, your cousins, your second cousins-”

“I'm fine.”

Kalim keeps smiling at the nine-year-old, laughing when the boy holds the book higher to hide behind.

“Ok. I'll bring home something good for you! Be good for Zayan*!” Kalim called out, fixing his headpiece before leaving for the night.

Kalim wouldn't like to admit it, but Jamil was right in saying he was overzealous in adopting. But, he couldn't in his right mind leave a child alone in the alleyways of the Silk City, even if he tried to mug him. In his defense, Mozenrath came along easily, letting himself be checked over and bathed. Only then did the child seem to lose any of the bite he had in the alley, being downright shy around Kalim and the staff if outside of his new bedroom.

With a pout, he even remarked how Mozenrath refused to use any of the gifts Kalim had given him. The clothing he used, obviously, the rags he was in didn't last long once he was out of them. The glasses were harder to accept, but Mozenrath couldn't deny that his vision was better wearing them.

What truly broke his heart was the refusal of the toys. Board games, plush toys, and cards were all left unplayed with. A few were even still in their boxes. Kalim wasn't sure why his gifts were unrecieved; every time he'd ask if Moe liked them, the child would simply flush in either anger or embarrassment and refuse to explain himself.

After speaking with Jamil and his friends, he decided the best course was to stop gifting him things and, as Yuu suggested, ‘Let the kid breathe.’

Later that night, as he came home, Zayan met him at the entryway carrying an excited energy.

“Hm? What's happened?”

The tiger beast had led him toward the TV room, the wall-to-wall screen still playing a movie he had purchased for Mozenrath on low volume. Curled up in the sunken couch and fast asleep was Mozenrath, clutching a white furred otter plushie he had refused to touch before.

Kalim could barely keep his squeal in his throat, turning toward the smiling beastman behind him, “Did you-”

Zayan was not Jamil; no one could ever replace his brother in all but blood. But seeing him hold up multiple polaroids and his phone gallery filled of a sleeping Mozenrath cuddled with a stuffed animal, Kalim decided he was doing a perfectly fine job. 

Vil x Rook

Vil wasn’t entirely sure if he had ever seen his life being this…domestic when he was younger. But he couldn't lie about the happiness he felt. He stood in his kitchen, humming under his breath as he prepared a veggie platter for himself and his son to share as a mid-afternoon snack. Though it was a soon-discovered ‘flaw' of the Cabbage Patch Fertility Clinic’s* process, having a child who greatly enjoyed vegetables was a godsend.

Looking out the window, sighing slightly at seeing his little angel face plant into the dirt. At the very least, he jumped right back to his feet and kept running around, Rook’s hunting dogs chasing him in play. Opening the kitchen door, he yelled out, “Finley! Come inside, it's snack time!”

Vil could only chuckle under his breath at how fast Finley changed course to the house. Now with his six-year-old in front of him, Vil kneels down and starts to wipe the dirt and grass from his baby's clothing, “I'm happy you love playing outside, it keeps you healthy, but please try to not become one with nature?”

“Yes, papa!”

Vil wipes at Finley’s face, frowning when the specks of dirt don’t leave his skin. He'll deny doing it, but he licked his thumb and rubbed a bit harder only to realize it wasn’t dirt. It was a freckle. His baby was getting freckles.

…

Vil burst into tears, now that he had seen one, he was seeing all of them at once. Little sun spots across his baby’s arms and legs. And most adorably across his nose and cheeks, just like his father.

The man in question had appeared in the kitchen the second he heard Vil’s wails, “Mon roi, what has happened!?”

Vil could only grip their baby by his face and point at the spots, “Freckles! He has freckles!”

“Freckles!?” Rook was soon right next to Vil on the floor, smiling and looking over every spot on his son's face, “Oh! BLISS! Kissed by the sun and every ray of joy under this blue sky!” He kept going, waxing on and on while Vil had all but crumbled to the ground at his son becoming even more adorable. The model repeatedly slammed his fist onto the ground as he proclaimed no one else in all of Twist could match his son in cuteness. ‘Cutest in the land’ being the title he would hold forever.

Finley stood, pouting lightly while his dad cupped his face and squished along his nose and cheeks, “Can I have celeby now…?”

Malleus

Sweets had started to go missing from the ‘personal kitchen’. Though it was less of a kitchen and more of a pantry his grandmother would always hide her favorite treats. A habit he and his family had adopted as time went on. Inside, Silver kept a single jar of honeybutter, Sebek kept apple chips, no one was sure what was in the jar that Lilia had hidden in the cupboards, but he and Yuu had a shared ceramic jar of orange peel cookies.

Malleus wouldn't question the decreasing supply if it wasn’t for the fact that he hadn't had any and Yuu was currently away in the Sunset Savanna. And the rules of the snack cabinet held strong; no one was allowed to pinch from others, much less an actual dragon’s horde of cookies.

He had ordered servants to keep watch of who entered and exited the hall in hopes of catching the thief. He even had Sebek stationed at the door for an odd number of days, but nothing came of the mini investigation. Cookies had continued to disappear, sometimes Malleus even opened the jar to complete nothingness, not even a crumb left behind.

Sighing, Malleus slipped away from his current rotation of envoys, making the choice he deserved a little treat for all of his work that day. And he would have had one, if he hadn't found three naked toddlers crowded around his cookie jar with crumbs coating their faces.

They all stared at each other with wide green eyes, and for a moment, Malleus wondered whose children they were, until he took notice of their horns and little fat tails. Suddenly, each child shoved a cookie into their mouths, turning back into their smaller dragon forms. While the first two had exited quickly, Malicent had doubled back, using his tail to send the cookie jar crashing to the floor before scurrying out the door between his feet. 

Malleus stood stunned before realizing what he had just seen. A sense of pride filled him; his children had learned to shift into human forms! Only to have the feeling replaced with fond annoyance as he chased after his children, yelling as lightning struck outside, “Thieves! Little moon-cheeked thieves!”

Sebek x Silver

“Sebek, you have to hold him at some point.”

Instead of responding, the half-fae simply hunched his shoulders higher. The sound of plates clacking together growing faster as he washed the dishes. 

“...” Silver sighs, turning away and making sure the bottle was held properly for Beau* to eat.

Ever since Beau came into their home, Sebek had taken a sharp change into being completely silent. He helped around the cottage more than ever, but that was never a problem before. They had fallen into the rhythm of sharing chores easily. But now, Sebek did almost everything himself before Silver even had a chance to get up in the morning. With literally every other chore completed, all he had was tending to Beau. And while that was an all-day chore, it was just one he had assumed they would share together. Sebek refused to speak around or even touch Beau. There was only one moment that Silver could recall, having fallen asleep and woken up to Sebek changing Beau’s diaper as though he were defusing a bomb.

“...” Beau ate in his arms blissfully, a carbon copy of the infant Silver used to see in his baby pictures, only with strawberry-hued hair, “Sebek…you can tell me if… if he makes you uncomfortable-”

A dish in the sink clanks hard before the half-fae turns around furious, “IT'S NOT-” he snaps his mouth shut the second he sees Beau’s eyes look toward him, “...I just…I'm…very loud…I don't wish to scare him.”

“...What?”

Sebek groaned, drying his hands and finally walking over. He sat beside Silver, looking toward Beau with a pinched expression, “My mother tells me babies are sensitive. They have no experience in the world and are frightened easily. I don’t want him…to find me scary…or equate me with yelling or loud noises.”

“...But you are loud.”

“Hey-”

Silver chuckles, taking the bottle from Beau and holding him to his shoulder, closer to Sebek, “He’s ours to raise. He can’t only know me, Sebek. You have to show him who you are as well.”

He watches with a smile, Sebek’s nervous expression fading as Beau reached out toward him. Slowly, the half-fae took Beau into his own arms, holding him stiffly but smiling at the mumbling baby.

“Plus, imagine his fright if he actually heard you later on. The shock of you being able to yell would scare him worse than the actual noise.”

“Ok, I get it.”

Lilia

“And you're not sure what's wrong?”

Lilia sighed, stirring his long turned cold tea, while talking to Silver on the phone, “No. She's been dealing with body soreness for weeks, and now she's even vomiting after meals. Neither of us is sure what's ailing her. But the doctor should at least be able to give her some type of medicine for relief.”

“That's a positive, at least. I hope Ms. Hui-Yan* heals soon. Beau is wondering when we can visit again; he wants to show off how he's improved his sneaking technique…”

“Has he?” Lilia perked, always happy to hear about his technical grandson.

“Not in the slightest. But Sebek indulges him.”

Lilia chuckles, “On another note, you should really make a habit of calling her ‘grandma’, at least to Beau. I'm feeling old being grandpa while she gets to keep being Ms. Hui-Yan.”

“Father, she'd kill me.”

“Oh, she'd barely maim. You boys really need to understand my wife more-”

The front door was slammed open, Hui-Yan stomping into the home and kicking the door shut behind her, “Pay respects to your Gods, Vanrounge, you are about to meet them.”

“Is that her?”

“Yes, she just got home. Hello, Sugar Knife! What did the doctor say?”

Hui-Yan didn't even acknowledge the pet name, eyes focused with homicidal thirst on Lilia, “You will pay for what you've done to me…”

“...” Lilia looked to the side before glancing back at his wife. His posture straightened to run as a bead of sweat ran down his temple, “What have I done?”

“I'm pregnant.”

…

Lilia spoke, his mouth moving faster than his brain could filter, “Is it mine?”

…

Hui-Yan's expression had eased from murderous to blank. Seconds passed before she reached to her side and unsheathed her sword without so much as an eye twitch.

“...” Lilia sighed, his mind fully caught up to the current conversation and what he just said, “Yeah, that's fair.”

Silver sat on the couch of his home, blinking in mild confusion at the sounds of battle over the phone. He hung up when the two elders started to scream and screech in their respective native tongues.

Beau appeared beside him, moving his way onto the couch and looking at his father’s phone and lighting up at seeing the contact, “Grandpa! Are we going to see grandpa?”

“No, grandpa is…going to be a bit busy.”

Rollo

Gilbert was so small. Small and sweet, like a little grape. 

Rollo sat at his desk, taking a break from signing forms, looking to the side of his office. His adopted son sat on the ground, using his singluar arm to draw. Scarred and weak, Gilbert seemed completely ignorant of the cruelties he's already been a victim of.

Rollo would look at the boy, his son, and think of a grape vine. How, without fail, there was always a berry much smaller than the others. Overshadowed or started later, it was an eyesore to the rest of the healthy fruit. He never cared for them; without fail, they were always the sour ones of the bunch.

But Gilbert was different.

Once home from the hospital, his burns healing into discolored pink skin. Gilbert continued on with his life, fresh and new it was. Rollo knew the reason Gilbert was so blessed was because he didn't know any better. All he could remember was what his life was after the fire that took so much of him and his parents.

A laugh makes Rollo focus. Gilbert, with effort, stood and moved toward him. With a wide-eyed smile, he held up his artwork. One figure clad in black with a harsh line for a mouth and a severe expression, holding hands with a smaller figure with a smile, grasping a flower.

Rollo smiles, plucking the small and scarred child into his lap, “What a lovely picture. We must have it framed with the others…”

Fellow

Being a free man was hard, but he couldn't think of a better place to be. He's surprised that simply agreeing to snitch got him and Gideon off the hook for kidnapping and slave trading. But the Shrouds kept their promise. He was free of a criminal record, and he had started to receive a small fund for living expenses not even a week after the trial.

He stirs the watery stew, looking over his shoulder to the two minors at the table waiting on dinner.

Gideon hadn't wanted to go, but Fellow wasn't going to allow the cat beastman to pass up a formal education to save his own pride. The first week was rough for Gideon, having never been to school and being mute, but he had found his stride easily enough.

The cat beastman pointed to his workbook, smiling as Renold mouthed out the problems. Renold was an addiction Fellow never thought possible. At first, because he couldn’t fathom bringing another child into a life of crime to be something used against him. Then it was because living legally was insanely expensive, though most of that money was being put toward renovating and repairing Playful Land.

But neither he nor Gideon could leave the little fox beastman on the streets after seeing him alone for days. At the very least, he could read and write, so he was already doing better than Fellow and Gideon were at his age.

Two children in his care, a steady stream of money, and blueprints to rework Playful Land into a functioning drifting school? Those were never his plans, never a possibility to the person he was before meeting those NRC brats. But, smiling to himself, Fellow couldn't help but think the future looked brighter than the old carnival lights he had grown used to.

He grabbed their mismatched bowls from the drying rack, ladling up their dinner, “Stew’s done! Books off the table!”

Gideon moved quickly, gathering up his notebooks before putting them in his cubby. Renold took the bowl from Fellow, looking at the food as his ears twitched around, “What’s the difference of stew and soup?”

“Ah…Soup is watery, stew has chunks.”

“...This is soup.”

“Keep talking and I won’t give you a chunk of beef in your next bowl.”

Skully*

A child. He had a child now. A problemed child, one reanimated with cursed bugs and malevolent intent. It was hard to think of what was more terrifying: the fact that he and Sarah* were only taking him in for the final months of his junior year, set to rip him open and pull every last wiggling, sinister critter from his skin and flesh later that day. Or the fact that he has a teenager in his home for the weekend.

At the knock of the front door, Skully nearly threw his coffee mug into the sink and raced over to reach it first. He smiles as he just barely beats Sarah, the green-haired woman slipping on the hall carpet and crashing into the wall as he swings open the door. He’s seen Mario, he’s known the boy since he was an actual boy. But now, with context and the added responsibility of being his legal guardian, it truly was like seeing his bouncing baby boy for the first time.

Mario stood there, texting on his cell phone with one hand as he spoke, “Hello, I’m here.” With a sigh, he pocketed the device and stepped past Skully into the entryway, pulling a large suitcase with him, “So, let’s just set some boundaries. After the surgery, you won’t need to do much for me. Just allow me to keep using your home as my primary mailing address until my internship is over and all will be-”

“Welcome home! My son of the grave! Oh, this will be splendid!” Skully threw his arms around the cat beastmen, lifting him clear off his feet as he peppered his face with kisses, “Once you’re all healed up from the procedure, we'll have a family photo! And take a vacation! And rework the family mausoleum for your coffin. Oh, happy days!”

Skully went on and on, still refusing to place the 18-year-old back on his feet. The manic energy only growing stronger once Sarah had managed to make her way to the door as well, the two adults far too excited to make ‘family plans’.

Mario wonders if this was how he seemed to others at school. Sighing, he rolled his eyes and managed to free an arm, patting his new foster father’s head, “I see why the headmistress told me ‘Good luck’ before she left…”

Zayan is a Rajah OC I made for my Future Arc! He's Kalim's new servant since he signed off on Jamil's permanent sabbatical.

The Cabbage Patch Clinic is actually a name I got from @bun-lapin! It's basically a super advanced IVF clinic where they gestate the baby on site. Side effects include your child loving the hell out of cabbage.

Beau is my OC Louis's son and is technically given Silver's dropped name. Louis asked Silver to raise his son because he did not want to accidentally raise him racist like he was.

@bun-lapin's OC!

THIS TWINK DIES WHEN I SAY HE DOES

Sarah is neither confirmed nor denied to be his life partner.

[dinosaurwithablog]

I took my second painting class, and I painted Deception Pass Bridge!! I need some more practice, but it looks like the Bridge so I'm very happy 😊 😃 😀 I'm getting there. I think it's time to venture out on my own. I'm taking another paint your dog class in July. I can't wait!! 😍 I really love to paint!!

[orofeaiel]

Woolly Sunflowers in front of the Deception Pass Bridge

[philativy]

May I request a secretly devilish MC? Like a wolf in sheep's clothing. They act nice and stuff but they like to prank people and cause trouble but it is almost impossible to blame bc they're so nice! Why in the world would they ever do that? Thanks in advance, love love love your writing

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

a/n: tysm anon! sorry i’ve been keeping you waiting! i still have a few days left of my trip, and things have been slow. writing is hard in these circumstances! anyhow, i did decide to just make this a short passage instead of a full-length drabble since i wasn’t really sure how how to make a long plot out of it. i hope you enjoy regardless!

You’ve never done anything wrong in your life — Mammon is convinced. So is Diavolo. And Asmodeus. And a majority of the devilish figures in your newfound life. You, for all intents and purposes, are content to remain the pinnacle of human innocence and sincerity.

But even your saccharine nature must take a back seat when an opportunity, gilded and waiting, presents itself.

Take, for example, the harmless rearranging of Levi’s figurines (he claims they’re alphabetical, but seriously, how does that work?), or replacing Beelzebub’s creatine with baby powder. All of which were relatively easily fixed in the long run, and you were able to pass off as the mischievous misdoings of someone else.

In this moment, you sit with your back against Satan’s chest, scrolling on your phone, while your feet are propped up on a sleeping Belphie’s ribcage. Satan reads over your shoulder, his chin propped up and his arms caging your sides. A book is pinched between the lanky fingers of his right hand, while the left absentmindedly rub circles into your tummy.

You hear the telltale clunk of Lucifer’s shoes as they approach. The strides pause outside your door, but are soon succeeded by a heavy rapping on the door.

You look up. Belphie and Satan, pointedly, do not.

Lucifer pushes the door to your room open and eyes the cozy trio. His arms are crossed, his brows pinched in that "angry dad" way that he has perfected.

"Would any of you like to explain why my cologne appears to be the same scent as Asmodeus' bathroom air freshener?" He rumbles.

"It’s not my business what you spend your money on." Satan sniffs, pressing his nose further into the junction of your neck with indignation.

"Answer my question."

"No, I have no idea why your cologne smells like that. Happy?"

Lucifer grunts. "Belphegor?"

Belphie groans and shakes his head noncommittally.

Lucifer’s eyes fall on you, finally. Perhaps the others are fooled by your — admittedly lovely — doe eyes, but he will not be. "And you?"

At Lucifer’s accusation, Satan curls tighter around you. He appears offended on your behalf.

"They'd never."

"I'd never." You agree, batting your eyelashes.

Lucifer scowls, pinches the bridge of his nose, and backs out of your room.

You return to your doom scrolling, only to be interrupted by a little banner at the top of your screen:

Luci 💋: Please come to my room tonight after dinner. Your deception is deserving of retribution, yes?

Withholding a giggle, you shoot off a short affirmative before leaning back against Satan’s hold. It went just as you planned.

[aquasarsstuff]

Your Choice, Dating sim au

Heartslabyul Route:

Summary: Awakening in a dating simulation, you find yourself immersed in a realm of whimsical fantasy, a stark contrast to the modern world you’re accustomed to. In this alternate universe where you’ve landed, will you navigate towards your fairytale ending or become ensnared in a complex web of deception? The outcome depends on your choice.

A month has passed since you've been whisk away from your home, yet you could still never get accustomed to this new world you were place on. Despite this world matching the sets of historical films and fiction you've read, it has far more advanced technology than your world's pinkie toe, due to the existence of magic. As such a heavy burden was place on your shoulders as one of the children of aristocracy: pretending to have magic. From the hush whispers sent to you by your parents, it was without a doubt that you don't possess magic. Even so, your weekdays are always used to learn more about magic and whatnot to be able to blend with fellow mage.

The setting and the plot of your life screams of familiarity inside your head. It took a few days before it finally click. You were inside one of the dating sim you've played before. There were four main leads or was it the only routes you've only got to finish? You're not sure, but you had all the information you have to survive from your bad ending. You were neither a protagonist nor an antagonist, not even a side character! Just an unseen character use as a bridge to bring romance between the protagonist and love interest in one of the routes.

You brought down the book to your table. Its pages were at least two inch thick, and its width stretches from your wrist to your elbow. You've been staring hollowly at far distance for a few minutes that you didn't notice the discomfort it brings on your skin for putting all of the weight of the book on your lap. You pressed flatly and straighten your outfit. It would not be nice to be seen unkept if there were guest to arrive, invited or not.

What will you do?

Option 1: Get out of the room

Option 2: Escape through the window

Option 3: Stay in the room (Keep reading)

You opted to get a snack, but if one of the servants caught you leaving the room, they might report it to your father, and the last thing you want these days is to get scolded for slacking off. You leaned your back closer to the couch. Its plump cushion being pressed down your weight. The number of materials on the table that is in dire need to be read, rest peacefully. Most of it were still left untouched by you. You did try to read it, for heaven's sake, but its meaning on every page was ancient to you, and it's not because you have a bad reading comprehension. It's due to the fact that you are no magic user. The books were enchanted, but you can't even feel a tinge of its presence under your fingertips, hence you can't make a connection to understand the contents. You can only sigh in frustration and scream internally, otherwise the other people living in the house might think you're getting kidnapped or something.

A boisterous laugh echoed the hall. Finally, the hours of torture will come to an end. You picked the book you were holding earlier and opened it to where you last left it off to create an illusion that you were reading as per orders. The doors to your study room opened in a flash, loud sounds of footsteps hitting the marble floor followed. A man with an orange hair, that reminds you of a carrot you had for breakfast this morning, peek inside the room. A smile as bright as his hair decorated his lips. It was Cater, your personal butler since childhood is what they said, yet you can't find any reason to believe any of those perfect grin. He did get you in trouble for several occasions.

You grip the hard covers of the book firmly in your hand, your nails digging on the thick leather. Something in your mind told you to raise this book to your face, and you did. A click was heard, before he finally stepped out of the doors, a weird gadget in his hand, presumably a camera of some sorts. You gently close the book down, and let it seat on your lap. A particularly large sigh escaped his lips, showing his absolute discontentment.

"What a shame, that shot was so perfect if it only captured your face." He took a glance at the gadget he has, probably looking again at the said photo.

What will you do?

Option 1: Say nothing

Option 2: Be condescending

Option 3: Ask his intentions (Keep reading)

"What are you doing here? Is it the time for dinner?" You still asked him, even though you knew what his arrival meant. What you don't know is why did his obsession for taking pictures was suddenly directed on to you. Nevertheless, this only strengthen your distrust for him. It's probably because of those pictures that he was able to snitch you on to your father. What was his intention? Is it fear? Loyalty? Or something else?

Entering Cater's route: (To be continued)

---------

More options will come out later. Please tell me if you wish me to continue this au. Writing Cater was honestly just fuels my writer block ahahhaha

[peloblancophoto]

Under Deception Pass Bridge

[jihoonjuseyo]

Hey its been a long we’ve heard from you. Are you doing okay? still writing?

Too Close for Practice

Woozi x You (Reader, gender-neutral)

Suggestive, slow-burn, charged but soft, previously flirty situationship, idol collaboration project

⸻

The dance studio lights were dimmed, the mirror reflecting the last golden streaks of the setting sun. Most of the team had already gone, their chatter fading into the hallway as you bent over to grab your water bottle. This collaboration was kicking your ass, but it came with quirks.

speaking of such quirks…

“I thought you left,” Jihoon’s voice said behind you, startling you just enough to drop the cap.

You turned to see him leaning against the wall, one eyebrow slightly raised, arms crossed. He was in a plain tee and sweats, a towel slung around his neck, damp from rehearsal.

“I stayed to stretch,” you replied, heart still tapping fast. “You’re still here too.”

He pushed off the wall and stepped closer, every movement casual but weighted. “Yeah. Thought I’d run through the bridge section one more time.”

You didn’t miss how his gaze flicked to your reflection in the mirror. Not obvious. Not bold. Just enough to make your skin heat beneath your hoodie.

“You could help,” he added, tone deceptively light.

“Help how?”

“Partner section,” he said. “I’m not happy with the spacing.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your face neutral. You knew exactly what section he meant—the one with barely an inch between bodies, the one that made your pulse jump even during rehearsals.

Still, you nodded.

The music started low. He stepped into place. You followed.

The choreography was clean, muscle memory carrying you both until that one part—the step-slide-close, where his hand brushed your waist and his chest nearly touched yours.

But this time, his eyes didn’t move away.

“You’re tense,” he said, breath grazing your cheek.

You tilted your head, searching for a reply that wouldn’t betray you.

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t move back. “Then why aren’t you breathing?”

You weren’t.

You exhaled slowly, trying not to lean in. His hand hadn’t moved—still hovering just above the curve of your waist, fingers splayed like he was deciding something.

“You know,” he said, voice lower now, “you do this thing where you pretend you’re unaffected.”

You blinked up at him. “And you don’t?”

He smiled—barely. “I didn’t say that.”

His fingers finally landed lightly on your waist, pressure feather-soft but deliberate.

The music played on, but neither of you moved.

“You’re supposed to spin here,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“You’re not spinning.”

“Maybe I forgot.”

He tilted his head slightly, amused. “Convenient.”

Your hands were still on his shoulders, steadying yourself. But your grip had changed—more anchor than guidance. Your pulse was in your ears.

“You’re not letting go,” you pointed out.

“Maybe I forgot.”

The silence after that beat louder than the music. Charged. Sharp. Soft at the edges.

Then, just before the song ended, he leaned in close—close enough that your breath caught, close enough to feel the ghost of a smile at your jawline—and whispered,

“We should mess up choreography more often.”

And then he stepped away. Cool. Collected. As if nothing had happened.

But his hand brushed yours as he passed by—fingers trailing just long enough to promise more, if you wanted..

[greatlascottwrites]

An essay about Iris Hawthorne

So I will preface this by saying that I am not an Iris hater but she never sat right with me after Bridge to the Turnabout. I'm a biased Narumitsu shipper but I do entertain other ships (helllllloooooo Langworth) but I couldn't get behind Feenris for a few reasons.

She's a victim, yes, but she's complicit as an accessory to crimes. We last see her serving time for covering up the murder of Misty Fey but this is just the one that caught up with her. There's been at least two times she was at least privy to Dahlia's crimes (the fake kidnapping plot, Valerie's murder, Diego's poisoning) but the real issue in my mind is that she did nothing after the fact.

Firstly, she could have spoken up after the kidnapping plot but did not. We could give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she didn't know that Dahlia was even alive, or that she could plead ignorance to what actually happened, but this is only the first incidence in a damning thread. Also, she still could have at least passed information along that suggested the kidnapping was not all that it seemed, given that Dahlia had tried to recruit her. And, if she believed Dahlia to be dead, what was stopping her from speaking out?

Secondly, and I'm putting her deception during her relationship with Phoenix to the side here for a second, why didn't she do anything when he was arrested for a murder he didn't commit? It's hard to be generous here because Iris was privy to all of Dahlia's plans (Violet, Fawles, Diego Armando) except the one involving Phoenix, but that's only because Dahlia kept her in the dark intentionally because Iris would have sabotaged it. However, she had to have been aware of what happened in the aftermath. Doug Swallows was murdered and Dahlia was, once again, at the center of it all. It was Mia, not Iris, who saved Phoenix. There's no evidence to suggest Iris was somehow unable to take action because she just went back to Hazakura afterwards. She never provides any excuse as to why she failed Phoenix when he needed her the most.

Now, back to Phoenix, here's where it gets fun. I am going to posit that her falling in love with Phoenix and wanting to protect him from Dahlia is for her benefit, not his. This is also, ironically, the first time Iris does something selfish. She fell in love with him and wouldn't let Dahlia kill him, but that's because for the first time in her life she wanted something. But I can't accept this protectiveness as romance. If she wanted what was best for him, she would have done something, anything either before this point or at the time of his arrest even if it meant getting into trouble. She, once again, chose to obscure the truth and instead did nothing.

Further to that, I can't accept her actions at Bridge to the Turnabout as anything but self-serving. She continued to hide the truth until it was presented to her. It was only at the eleventh hour that she confessed she loved Phoenix all along. It doesn't exactly inspire much confidence in her motives.

Now, all of this actually makes her a more interesting character in my eyes, so again, this isn't an Iris hate essay. She's tricky to get right in a Narumitsu context but here's a shameless plug to my story if you want to see my take on it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63292576/chapters/162138757