#and now i have to spend the rest of my life knowing i had it and never will again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginespazzi · 2 days ago

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Our Merry Eternity

And she swears that every Christmas season, it feels like they fall deeper and deeper in love with each other.

(In which a writer would like to argue that a day after Christmas, is a perfectly reasonable time to release a Christmas fic)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, fluff, fluff with some hurt/comfort and angst if you squint

Words: 9.4K (if I could write things shorter maybe y'all would get things faster but alas)

TW: Implied sexual content/suggestive content, mentions of divorce, mentions of injuries, swearing

A/N: MERRY (one day after) CHRISTMAS MY LOVIES <3 It seems like everyone wanted domestic fluff and who am I to deny the people what they want (even if it is a little later than I intended it to be) and I didn't realize how much I missed eternity-verse till I wrote this. I'mma keep this short and sweet and go through the basics. Such as the fact that I did not edit. I eventually will but for now, feel free to let me know about any grammar/spelling/formatting issues. And even though I haven't had the time to go through my inbox in a hot second, I promise I will soon so as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your holidays my angels <3

It’s beginning (to look a lot like Christmas)

Paige isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas; she doesn’t dislike it by any means but she’s never understood the fascination everyone else seems to have with it. Perhaps it’s because when she was younger, Christmas had been her parents’ favorite holiday to try and one-up each other. They’d competed in everything, from how big the tree was to how evenly spread the icing on the cookies were. Eventually the excitement of getting a big expensive present from one parent that would only be rivaled by an even bigger, more expensive present from the other wore off and all that was left was this hollow feeling of being torn in two. Her parents have matured now -no longer in a constant battle for her approval now that they had other kids to focus on as well- but the magic of Christmas had long worn off and Paige hadn’t bothered trying to rediscover it.

Until now.

Because right now, watching -through a facetime call that’s been running for almost four hours now- Azzi run around Walmart, searching for decorations and presents with her exasperated family in tow, almost feels a little magical. The way the younger girl’s eyes twinkle when she finds the perfect gift, the way her dimples deepen when she triumphantly wins an argument against her mother for an ornament her tree needs, makes Paige think that it would be so easy to fall in love with Christmas, if she got to spend it with Azzi.

And it’s like Azzi’s reading her mind because suddenly the younger girl’s face is filling all of Paige’s screen as she holds the phone close to her face, lips pouting in a way that has the blonde feelings decidedly unfriendly feelings toward a girl she’s barely known for six months, but feels like a best friend she’s known all her life.

“I wish we could spend Christmas together,” Azzi says with a slight whine, “and then you could help me with all of this. They’re absolutely no help-” her last sentence is cut off by her family and Paige laughs as the Fudds break out into a series of indignant protests.

“Oh so you just want me for manual labor or something huh?” Paige teases, leaning back against her bed and folding her arms across her chest, “and here I thought it’s cause you missed me.”

“I do miss you,” Azzi says matter-of-factly.

“Nah,” Paige shakes her head, “sounds like you just need another person to slave around for you.”

Azzi's mouth falls open at the accusation as the Fudds break into laughter behind her, the sound of it making something impossibly warm bloom in Paige’s chest.

“I do not make people slave around for me.”

“Yeah you do. You’re the princess. You order us around and we do as we’re told.”

“Here, here-ow!” Jon’s noise of agreement is cut off by his sister elbowing him in the stomach, “do all that work and get rewarded by violence too.”

“I tell you I miss you and this is how you repay me?” Azzi asks, her voice tinged with drama.

“Nah I still don’t believe you miss me,” it’s a lie; Paige is fully aware Azzi misses her -thinks that the younger girl has to feel at least a semblance of the emptiness she feels herself at the distance between them- but she likes making Azzi repeat it; likes the constant confirmation that Azzi misses her too.

“Of course I miss you P, after all,” Azzi’s eyes glint with mischief, “we’re engaged aren’t we? A girl’s gotta miss her fiancé.”

The cavalier use of the tone of endearment makes Paige freeze. It’s a joke; a callback to the fact that Paige had practically threatened Azzi that she’d have to marry her if the younger girl won their little pop-a-shot competition last summer at the Minnesota State fair. Paige hadn’t been thinking, it had just slipped out but then Azzi had won the game and then there were rings being exchanged and somehow the whole thing had become one big running joke between the two of them. Except, the idea of forever with Azzi doesn’t feel much like a joke to Paige. It feels like a wish, a hope, a want, a need something she’s not quite ready to admit to herself yet.

“I miss you too Az,” Paige says softly as they grin at each other through the phone, “can’t wait to see my best friend soon.”

Thirteen days to be exact -they’d planned to spend the last half of winter break together- but it’s not like Paige is crossing the days off of her calendar or anything.

“Fiancé,” Azzi corrects and Paige’s heart flutters despite her brain trying to remind her that this is just a bit they’re playing at.

“Right, so fiancé,” the word tastes like sugar cookies and marshmallows on the tip of her tongue, “you get my present yet?”

“You know I have and before you ask,” Azzi gives her a knowing look when Paige excitedly opens her mouth, “no I won’t give you a hint about what it is.”

“But Azziiiiiii-”

“Absolutely not Paige,” Azzi says firmly, “presents are meant to be surprises.”

“Aren’t fiancés meant to tell each other everything?” Paige scrunches her nose.

“Not this. Christmas presents are a sacred secret,” the younger girl replies gravely.

“And who made you an expert on all things Christmas presents?”

“Santa did,” Azzi retorts haughtily.

Paige snorts, “well Santa doesn’t ex-”

“PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS,” Azzi yells and the blonde can tell by the way she winces immediately that the younger girl’s little outburst had gotten her more than a couple of wary looks, “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she hisses again, her voice much quieter this time, “you take that back right now!”

“Az-”

“Take it back!”

“Bro you’re fifteen years old,” Paige argues.

“Believing has no age,” Azzi hums airily, “now take it back.”

“Nope!”

“Take it back or I’ll end our engagement,” Azzi threatens and Paige blanches at ultimatum.

“You wouldn’t,” she gasps.

“Try me.”

Paige is sixteen and she’s only really just started to learn what love is, but she thinks, as she sits on her bed bickering on facetime over the most ridiculous of topics with a girl who makes her feel things she’s never felt before, that maybe love is just something as simple and crazy as pretending admitting Santa is real so she can prevent her fake engagement, that’s almost beginning to feel a little much like a real promise, from being called off.

2. With you (under the mistletoe)

The truth is that neither of them quite remember what started the fight or even really why it had continued after. All they know is that one minute everything had been fine and then the next minute, they were fuming at each other and their plane ride back to the DMV for Christmas had passed in uncharacteristic silence. They'd parted ways at the airport -glumly sauntering over to their waiting families while decidedly avoiding looking over in each other’s directions- with a dreadful mixture of regret, guilt and the feeling of missing each other. But despite the fact that they were both clearly miserable, Paige and Azzi were both too stubborn and too eager to prove which one of them could be more stubborn. This was their first true fight after they’d gotten together earlier this year, and they were both adamant that the other one would apologize first.

But Azzi can feel the urge to cave in grow stronger and stronger by the minute as she feels Paige’s body against her own as the blonde reaches over the younger girl to grab something from the shelf. The contact is unnecessary and she knows Paige is doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction and it takes every inch of self-control Azzi has to not shiver as the older girl presses herself against her back, acting like whatever she’s grabbing isn’t right at the front of the shelf. Azzi tries to focus on the cookies she’s icing, tries to keep her hands still as she traces the outline of a star in royal icing, tries to do anything but focus on the way Paige’s warm breath is tickling against the back of her neck.

It’s two days till Christmas and the Fudd family and friends have gathered to do their annual cookie baking and decorating tradition. And Katie had been clear that no matter what issues Paige and Azzi were having, they wouldn’t interfere with the open invitation that Paige had always had -since she’d moved to the DMV but even before that really- to join them throughout the Christmas festivities. Azzi had pretended to be a little miffed by it but secretly she’d been hoping that her girlfriend -god she still got such a thrill out of being able to call her that- would show up. They’d only really been apart for a day, but since they’d met, Paige and Azzi hadn’t gone often without talking to each other -whether it was in person or through text or on the phone- and so 24 hours had felt a little bit like 24 years and Azzi had spent every second missing the girl who’d long since become a part of her soul. And even though Paige had grunted about only being here for Drew’s sake, Azzi knows -by the way the blonde’s eyes had drunk in the sight of her when she’d let her into the house, by the way her stiff shoulders had relaxed just by being near her again- that Paige had missed her just as much.

But neither of them are quite ready to admit it yet, and so, as they bustle around the confined space of the Fudd’s kitchen, Paige continues to find ways to light Azzi’s skin on fire and Azzi continues to pretend it isn’t making her burn with want.

“Noooooooo,” a drawled out whine from the kitchen table has Azzi and Paige jumping away from each other as they both turn to look at Drew.

Azzi’s eyes widen and Paige bursts into laughter as they take in the scene in front of them. Clearly the little boy had overestimated his strength and the piping bag had burst and now Drew stands by the table, his lips slightly parted in shock, as the red icing -originally intended for the Santa hat cookies- drips down the front of his shirt. Jon and José are doubled down in their chairs, tears practically streaming down their faces as the sound of their laughter echoes through the walls.

“Oh my god,” Paige manages to get out between her giggles, “what did you do Drewskie.”

“Nothing,” her little brother immediately defends himself, “it literally burst out of nowhere.”

“Sure it did little Hulk, sure it did,” José teases as he swipes his finger over Drew’s ruined shirt and then licks the icing off of it, the casualness of it causing Jon and Paige to burst into another round of laughter while Azzi tries as hard as she can to keep her own giggles contained but a smile slips through the cracks.

“It’s not funny,” Drew stomps his feet petulantly, “I’m all sticky and icky and gross. Azzi,” he looks at the brunette with imploring eyes, “tell them to stop- OH MY GOD ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME TOO.”

Azzi's eyes widen as she tries to protest, “no of course not. C’mon let’s get you a new-”

But before she can put her plan into action, clearly Drew has a different idea and before Azzi can stop it from happening, the little boy is grabbing another piping bag -this one with green icing- and aiming it straight at Jose. There’s a split second of silence as the green icing arcs through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing with a splat on Jose’s newly bought t-shirt. And then the room bursts into chaos as Drew immediately dives behind Azzi’s legs, Paige and Jon continue to lose their minds laughing and José lets out a loud scream.

“WHAT THE FU-”

“José language,” both Paige and Azzi reprimand immediately and José glares at them but corrects himself anyways.

“What the fudge dude,” José scowls at Drew, “this is a brand new shirt.”

For his part, the little boy shrugs, “I thought you liked eating icing off of shirts. I figured I’d make it easier and let you eat it off of your own shirt.

If it’s possible this somehow makes Jon and Paige laugh harder and instead of focusing his wrath on Drew who’s still nestled behind Azzi’s legs, José turns on the two of them instead.

“You guys think this is SO funny don’t you,” he says menacingly, grabbing for two more piping bags.

“José no,” Paige is the first one to recover as she tries to turn away from the mess but it’s too late, and just as she’s trying to bolt out the door, she’s stopped by a glob of pink icing landing with a splat on the back of her plain white shirt.

“Oh you’re so dead,” Paige whispers angrily as she turns around, grabbing another bag of icing and aiming it directly at José’s face.

And then there’s no stopping anyone as Azzi watches as all the beautiful icing she’d painstakingly made and dyed into different colors begins to be thrown all over the kitchen, a rainbow painting itself all over the walls and floors. Drew darts out from behind her legs, joining into the mayhem as he starts to pelt Jon with all sorts of colors.

Seeing them all distracted and knowing it’s only a matter of time before she gets sucked into all of it, Azzi slowly tiptoes backwards, wanting nothing to do with the mess, and she’s just about to turn around and run up the stairs when a low voice echoes behind her.

“And where do you think you’re going,” because of course Paige had noticed her trying to escape; Paige always noticed when it came to Azzi.

“Paige,” Azzi warns slowly, trying to move away from the other girl, her eyes fixated on the purple icing in the blonde’s hands, “please.”

Paige smirks as she takes another step towards Azzi, “this is a little unfair isn’t it?”

“Hey I didn’t start any of this,” Azzi puts her hands up in surrender, choosing to back away from the stairs and towards the living room instead, “go fight the people who did.”

Paige shakes her head as she takes another step, “I already got ‘em all. Amateurs,” she says cockily, “they think they can beat me in a food fight.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “is there anything you’re not arrogant about?”

“Can’t help that I’m good at everything,” Paige shrugs and Azzi’s about to come up with a snarky retort when the blonde’s eyes soften, “except I guess- I guess I’m not too great at apologizing.”

Gone is the air of overconfidence that had surrounded the older girl just a second before and in her place is that soft, vulnerable Paige that Azzi is so desperately in love with and she can’t help but take a step towards the blonde.

“We should both probably apologize huh,” she says quietly, “think we both said some petty shit we didn’t mean.”

It’s true; they’d known each other so long and so deeply that they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, how to say the exact wrong thing to rile each other up when they were frustrated. The fight had been inevitable; an explosion of all the angst that existed between two athletes who were both fighting injuries and watching their team struggle without them. It had started with something little that Azzi can’t quite remember but then they were yelling about other things -Paige’s grievances about how Azzi had an irritating habit of hovering and Azzi’s issues with Paige’s tendency to close herself off- and it had ended with both of them near tears as they’d frustratedly stomped into their rooms.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says it first, as she loops her arm around Azzi’s waist, bringing the younger girl as close to her as she can, “I love you. I miss you.”

Azzi smiles, her hands finding their rightful place around Paige’s neck, not caring that the other girl is still covered in sticky icing, “don’t gotta miss me baby. I’m right here,” she says softly, resting her forehead against the blonde’s, “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”

“Look up,” Paige says softly, as she strokes Azzi’s cheek and the younger girl does as she’s told, laughing when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them.

“Kissing under the mistletoe? You’re so cliché Bueckers.”

“Clichés are clichés for a reason Az,” Paige hums faintly before she’s pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, holding her as tightly as she physically can.

And yet Azzi still finds a way to tug her closer, trying to find a way to meld their bodies into one as she presses herself as close to Paige as possible. She’s just about to suggest they take this upstairs -because god has she missed being with Paige- when instead she feels the older girl pull away and before she can even react, she’s being hit in the face with a stream of bright purple icing.

“PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK,”

“Sorry baby. Just couldn’t help myself,” Paige grins as she steps back into Azzi’s space, gently attaching her lips to Azzi’s cheeks as her tongue languidly licks away at the icing and this time the younger girl doesn’t even try to hide the way her body reacts to it, “I promise I’ll clean you up though.”

3. I’ll be home (for Christmas)

“I’m good I swear,” Azzi’s voice is raw and hoarse like it often gets when she’s been crying and despite the younger girl’s best efforts to put on a brave front, Paige can hear right through it.

She cocks an eyebrow, shifting from her back onto her elbows and placing her phone -with the facetime call- against the headboard, “then why won’t you let me see your face?”

“It’s not me. Something’s up with my camera. I don’t know what,” and if it was anyone else, even someone else who also knew that Azzi had literally just gotten a new phone, maybe the attempted sincerity in the brunette’s voice would be enough to convince them that she was telling the truth.

But Paige has every line of the Azzi Fudd façade memorized, knows exactly how to discern the little cadences in her girlfriend’s voice and read between the lines. She knows Azzi’s purposely refusing to show her face; knows that it’s probably because it would take Paige one glance at said beautiful, gorgeous, stunning face to know that there had been tears running down it just a little bit ago.

The blonde sighs, choosing to let the lie go and instead focus on the precious few minutes she’s got to speak to her girlfriend in peace. This is the first time Paige and Azzi have truly been apart for an extended amount of time since the latter had gotten to UConn and somehow the past few weeks have felt worse than when they’d spent months and months apart. With Paige trying to lead an injury-riddled team and Azzi rehabbing another torn ACL, the opportunities to indulge in a proper facetimes call had been few and far between. And when they did finally find the team, it wasn’t just that they were physically tired; they were both emotionally drained too. It was hard recharging when their batteries -each other- were so far away and every call felt hollow; like something was missing.

“I miss you,” Paige says finally, feet digging into her bed as she musters up a soft smile, wishing that she could see Azzi return it with one of her own instead of staring at a black screen with only her own face in the corner.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the younger girl says lightly and something uncomfortable churns in Paige’s stomach.

“You uh- you haven’t said it back in a while,” she says slowly, trying to keep her voice casual.

“Said what?”

Paige gulps, “that you miss me,” she gives Azzi a second to respond before her nerves have her speaking a mile per minute, “I mean not that you- not that you have to say it back or anything it’s just- you usually do- or like you always did and you just- you just haven’t said it back. And I mean I don’t say I miss you just so you’ll say it back or anything. I mean I do- you know- miss you and so that why I say it- because- because I miss you- I miss you so fucking much baby and I just- I just want you to know that but you haven’t- you haven’t said it back in a little bit and I just- Azzi,” her voice cracks as she tries not to let the tears slip through, “you do miss me don’t you?”

The other girl is quiet for so long that Paige thinks maybe she’s said too much; her mind rushes to the worst possibilities because what if Azzi really doesn’t miss her? What if her insecurities are right and the time apart has made Azzi realize that she wants something other than Paige?

“Of course I miss you Paige,” Azzi’s voice is thick with tears and all of Paige’s previous fears are replaced with worry instead, “god baby I miss you so fucking much. I miss you all the time and I’m sorry, fuck Paige, I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t but baby- I-,” she’s heaving through her tears and Paige wishes she was with her; wishes she could wipe away her tears and hold her forever.

“Azzi-”

“I haven’t been saying it back because- because-” Azzi pushes on, still struggling to speak but determined to say her piece, “I can’t okay? I can’t keep saying it Paige- I can’t keep telling you I miss you and hearing that you miss me when we can’t do anything about it. And I get it- okay- I get it. I get that you have to be with the team and I have to be here and do my rehab and we can’t- we can’t be together right but fuck- I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again helplessly.

She hates it too; hates that it’s so close to Christmas, so close to Azzi’s favorite holiday and her girlfriend is sobbing.

“Shit. I’m being a terrible girlfriend aren’t I? You have a game in a couple of hours and here I am being a fucking selfish wet wipe instead of wishing you luck. Fucking hell,” Azzi curses and Paige can picture her frantically pulling herself together as she tries to change her tone.

“You could never be a terrible girlfriend,” Paige reassures softly.

Azzi ignores her, “besides, we’ll see each other soon right? You’re gonna fly home from Toronto to Connecticut tomorrow and then come home to me after right? Just a couple more days,” and it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than Paige, “just a few more days- few more hours really. We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees but she can’t help but feel like even that’s too long and there’s a plan starting to form in her mind; a good use of all that NIL money she’s been earning.

“I love you P,” Azzi says softly, and despite the heaviness from before, Paige can hear the smile in her voice, “see you soon baby.”

“I love you too Az. I’ll be home soon,” Paige replies, a large grin settling onto her face as she gets ready to bring her idea to fruition; knowing that for now, their soons don’t quite mean the same thing.

***

Azzi thinks her parents and brother must have the patience of a saint. She’s acutely aware that she’s been a miserable grinch to be around; either ignoring them or answering them with tight one-word sentences. Since she’d come down to Virginia for her rehab, she’s kept herself holed down in her room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. The worst part of it, is that it’s her favorite time of the year and Azzi’s barely participated in all the little Christmas traditions -half of which had really been created by her- that she’d normally be excited to indulge in.

She sighs, burrowing herself further into her pillows to block out the chatter of her family upstairs. In a couple of minutes, she’s sure one of them will come rushing downstairs, pleading for her to come join them as they make Christmas themed pancakes. And she’ll refuse -just as she has with every other fun little activity- and all though whoever’s been tasked with getting her out of her cave will persist a little longer, eventually they’ll give up, that awful look, tinged in both disappointment and pity, on their face as they go back upstairs with a promise to bring her a plate in a little bit. It’s a terrible routine that’s been on rinse and repeat and Azzi thinks she’d really like to break herself out of it, but it feels like she’s drowning in it instead, and there’s not a lifeboat in sight to pull her out of her misery.

Turning on her side, Azzi reaches for her phone, flipping to Paige’s contact and her heart aches from their last conversation last night. God she’d been so selfish, venting like that knowing her girlfriend had a game in a couple of hours; knowing how stressful each game -no matter how easy the opponent- was with an injury-riddled team. But Paige had sounded so miserable when asking if Azzi still missed her that in a way it had been infectious and suddenly Azzi found herself letting her own hurt waterfall out of her lips.

She scrunches her nose, eyebrows crinkling in confusion when she realizes that the last text she’d sent Paige before going to sleep -a simple you did really good today baby, i’m proud of you right after the game- had gone unanswered. Azzi frowns, looking down at her phone as if her staring harder at it might just conjure up a message from her girlfriend. She’d fallen asleep almost right after sending it and it was unlike Paige to not have answered her by the time she woke up. Azzi rattles her brain, trying to remember if the blonde had mentioned any other plans -beyond a dinner with Aaliyah’s parents that wouldn’t have kept her from her phone- but she can’t remember anything. Briefly glancing at the time and knowing that Paige’s flight to Connectcut wasn’t supposed to leave for at least another three hours, Azzi hastily texts her girlfriend again, crossing her fingers behind her back in anticipation of a quick reply.

Good morning Paigey <3

She gives it exactly three minutes, stomach churning when she doesn’t get a reply.

I miss you baby.

Another four minutes and still no reply and Azzi starts to feel her head getting heavy with that familiar weight of over thinking. What if she’d overstepped last night? What if it was too much? What if Paige had decided that she couldn’t deal with Azzi and her crap anymore?

She can hear someone starting to hurry down the steps, the quickness making her think it’s probably one of her brother’s who’s been tasked with getting her out of her room this time. But Azzi keeps her focus on her phone, ready to reject whatever offer is about to be made. The door creaks open and she doesn’t look up, typing another message instead.

I love you Paige.

“I love you too Azzi.”

Azzi freezes at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, her gaze moving from her phone to the doorway in slow-motion. She blinks in disbelief, mouth falling open as she stares at the figure in her doorway, taking in the sight of a disheveled blonde ponytail, the custom UConn sweats draped on a body that’s radiating exhaustion but more than anything her eyes fixates on that smile, the one that’s always been just for her.

“Paige,” she breathes out slowly, almost as if she’s scared that saying it will make the girl in front of her disappear like a dream.

“Hi baby,” Paige says softly, casually pointing to her phone, “I got your message.”

“You’re here,” Azzi chokes out and then, louder, “you’re here oh my god, you’re really here,” she repeats, rushing to get out of bed, desperate to wrap her arms around Paige, to hold her and be held in return.

“Hey, hey, hey wait baby careful,” Paige chides, her focus immediately on Azzi’s knee, “stay where you are-”

“What? Why?” Azzi pouts and that elicits a little laugh from Paige as she walks over to the brunette.

“Because,” the older girl says quietly, as she crawls onto the bed and pulls Azzi onto her lap so the younger girl is straddling Paige’s hips, “I’m here.”

Azzi looks at her in awe, hand tracing the curves of Paige’s face like she still can’t quite believe this is real, “yeah,” she whispers, “you’re here.”

And then she’s kissing every inch of Paige’s skin that she can, memorizing the way it feels soft and smooth under her lips, trying to make up for all the lost time of the past few weeks and perhaps even for when she knows they’ll inevitably have to be separated again. Paige’s grip on her waist is tight, fingers gripping her like they’re scared to let go as she shivers under Azzi’s featherlight touch.

“I’m here,” Paige repeats again before she guides Azzi’s lips onto her own into a feverish kiss that has both of them letting out a long-kept sigh of relief.

It starts off innocent enough, the two of them savoring the moment, savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms. But then Paige’s tongue is licking into Azzi’s mouth and the younger girl is grinding her hips in the way she knows will drive the blonde a little insane as Paige’s own hands find themselves roaming underneath Azzi’s pajama shirt, rubbing circles dangerously close to the edge of her sleep shorts.

“Missed you- missed you so fucking much,” Azzi babbles as Paige’s mouth moves away from her lips to trail a series of kisses down her jaw, to her neck before nipping at her collarbone.

“Me too- me fucking too,” Paige mutters between kisses as she soothes her tongue over the mark she’d just tattooed into Azzi’s skin with her teeth, eyes glazing over when it elicits a barely-concealed moan from the brunette’s lips.

“Missed this,” Azzi groans, continuing to roll her body against Paige’s, and she thinks she could fall off the edge just like this, untouched and fully clothed.

“I know, baby. I know,” Paige pants as she continues her assault on the young girl’s skin, “gonna take care of you. I swear. Gonna make up for everything tonight-”

“No now,” Azzi whines, hands tangling in Paige’s hair and pulling in a way that has the older girl groaning into the crook of her neck, “I need you now. I’ll be quiet, I swear. Paige please.”

“Fuck baby don’t say that. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t say no to me,” Azzi responds with a smirk, one hand trailing down to gently flick against Paige’s nipples causing the blonde to let out a conflicted noise somewhere between pure arousal and reluctant protest.

“I can’t,” she says finally, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder as she purposefully grips the younger girl’s waist to keep her still.

Azzi pouts, “why not?”

When Paige finally looks up at her, there’s a sheepish look on her face, “I made a bet with your brothers.”

“What?”

“They said they hadn’t been able to get you out of your room and I said I could do it in ten minutes and they said it would take me a lot longer,” Paige says, hands moving animatedly and Azzi can’t help the fond smile that flitters onto her face.

“So let me get this straight,” she says slowly, “we haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t fucked,” she purposefully grinds her hips down onto the other girl, “in weeks and you wanna delay it longer because you wanna win a bet against my brothers?”

Paige has the decency to look at least a little ashamed as she nods before giving Azzi a goofy grin, “yes? I love you?”

Azzi rolls her eyes as she slips off of Paige’s lap, already missing the warmth of being on top of the other girl, “can’t believe you’d rather win a bet than fuck me.”

“Nah,” Paige smirks as she stands up, her hands immediately inching themselves around Azzi’s waist, “I’d rather win a bet, use that money to get us a hotel tonight and then fuck you.”

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her excitement at the idea of being in a hotel room -being alone, just the two of them- with Paige tonight.

“Ten steps ahead always baby,” Paige grins as she presses her lips against Azzi’s, ending it quicker than either of them would like, “now hurry up so I can win this bet.”

But Azzi doesn’t move, instead she pulls Paige back into her, resting their foreheads together as she breathes in the scent of her girlfriend.

“I’m really glad you’re home P,” she whispers and Paige smiles, gently rubbing her back, “didn’t feel like Christmas season without you.”

4. You’re all I need (underneath the tree)

Azzi’s just putting on the finishing touches to her outfit -dangly gold hoops that Paige had gotten her just because- when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her middle, a warm body being pressed against her chest. She smiles, letting herself melt into her wife’s -God she loves being able to say that- touch, leaning her head back against Paige’s shoulder.

“You look so pretty in that dress,” the older woman whispers into her ear as she runs her hands up and down the velvety red material covering Azzi’s body, “but you sure we have to go to your parents’ right now? Cause I think you’d look even better out of it.”

Azzi giggles; they’ve been together for almost nine years -known each other for even longer- and yet every time Paige gives her a compliment, she feels her insides swooning, cheeks going red like she’s still a teenager whose crush is flirting with her. And she thinks this feeling will never go away, that the halo-like glow Paige’s mere presence casts around her will never fade because this love -this all-consuming sense of you’re it for me between them- is going to last forever. She’s sure of it.

“Do you ever think of anything but sex?” Azzi rolls her eyes as she turns around in Paige’s arms, fingers immediately reaching up to fix the collar of Paige’s matching red shirt.

Paige grins, “nah cause I’m always thinking about you and so by default I’m always thinking about sex.”

“You’re insatiable,” Azzi shakes her head.

“Can you blame me when my wife looks like that?” Paige makes a show of looking up and down Azzi’s body, letting out a low appreciative whistle at the way the dress hugs her figure, the neckline dipping just low enough to stay respectable yet sexy.

“You look pretty good yourself Bueckers,” Azzi hums as she grazes her teeth lightly against Paige’s neck, making the older woman shudder.

“Careful Az,” Paige warns, the sultry lilt in her voice saying the exact opposite, “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

Azzi shrugs cheekily, “and what idea would that be?”

Paige smirks, gently tugging at Azzi’s dress to expose a shoulder before she’s attaching her lips to the newly uncovered patch of skin, “that maybe you want us to be late. Or better yet, maybe you don’t want us to go at all.”

Keening under the softness of Paige’s touch, Azzi reluctantly pushes the older woman away, and that might be worse because now she can see her eyes and the lust swimming in them makes her want to give into temptation. But they’re already running late and she has no desire to give their brother’s any teasing material, so she settles on stealing another kiss from Paige’s lips.

“Go warm up the car,” she mutters against the blonde’s lips, gently squeezing her waist before she detaches from Paige and starts to fix her dress, “I’mma just do a quick double check and then be out.”

“Yes your highness,” Paige teases with a slight roll of her eyes before she’s grabbing both her and Azzi’s packed overnight bags and heading towards the car.

Azzi smiles as she watches her go. As much as they joked about not going at all, both of them loved spending Christmas with their families, especially considering how the Fudds, Bueckers and everything in between had melded into one big one. Despite the fact that living in the DMV now meant that they saw at least someone in their family once a week, the idea of having everyone under the same roof was still thrilling nonetheless.

Life had a funny way of working out. The plan had been set in motion since Azzi had been drafted to DC and although Paige had been tempted to stay in Minnesota -after all being the hometown hero picked with the no.1 pick had served her and the. team well for her first four rookie years, considering she’d helped them return to their former championship glory- they had ultimately decided that with most of their family in the DMV area, it made more sense for Paige to ask for a trade to DC than it did for Azzi to move to Minnesota. It hadn’t been the smoothest transition -they’d had their fair share of fights while making the decision and then adjusting to it- but they’d figure it out. They always did. Because as good as Paige and Azzi were at fighting with each other, they were even better at fighting for each other.

Quickly going through the to-do-list in her brain, Azzi nods to herself as she silently checks off everything. She does a quick glance of her room, making sure that they’re not leaving anything they’d need, before reaching to grab her phone, just to text her parents that they were on their own way. Instead her eyes catch on an email notification, her heart beating erratically when she reads the name of the sender.

Fingers fidgeting with the heart necklace Paige had gotten her years ago, Azzi slowly clicks on the notification as anticipation burns throughout her whole body. She tries to steady her breathing as she scans through it, reading each line carefully and she almost drops her phone, large hot tears dripping down her cheeks as she reaches the end of it. Her chest feels heavy with an unknown feeling and she knows she needs to get to Paige, but her feet are rooted to their spot.

“Baby,” she hears her wife call out, followed by the sound of Paige’s footsteps climbing up the stairs, “you ready yet? The car’s already- oh my god baby what’s wrong?”

Azzi looks up from her phone to find Paige standing in the doorway. Concern floods the older woman’s sharp features as she rushes over to her, hands running all over Azzi’s body as she tries to figure out what’s wrong.

“Az? Baby? What’s going on? What happened,” Paige asks urgently, “baby please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” her eyes drop to the phone in Azzi’s hands as her voice gets desperate, “did someone say something? Do I need to go kill somebody? Fuck baby please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong? I swear I’ll fix it but you gotta tell me baby. Please.”

Wordlessly, Azzi hands over her phone. Paige’s expression is confused and apprehensive -maybe even a little preemptively angry- as she takes the device from her wife’s hand. Azzi watches as recognition dawn of the blonde’s face when she spots the familiar e-mail address; watches as her wife goes through the same emotions she had reading through the email. When Paige finally looks back at her, her own eyes are brimming with tears.

“Baby,” she says breathlessly, “this- I- we-,” she chokes back a sob, her voice so quiet in comparison to the loud enigma that is Paige Bueckers-Fudd, “we’re gonna be Moms?”

Azzi nods, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks as she finally manages to open her mouth, “yeah- yeah we are. Paige, we’re gonna have a baby. No two,” she corrects herself, remembering the exact words of the e-mail, “we’re gonna have two babies. Twins.”

And it’s unclear who moves first -it doesn’t really matter- but then they’re in each other’s arms, trying to hold each other as tightly as physically possible as their tears and smiles begin to blend into one. It had been a couple of months since they’d started the adoption process and they’d gone through every stage, slightly scared that something would go wrong. But they’d passed every background and family and personality check rather easily and it was this last part, the wait to hear about a child -well children- that needed them that had been the hardest of it. And now here it was, the last brushstroke that would complete the picture they’d started painting when they were fifteen. Two babies that would complete them.

“You’re gonna be such a good Mom,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s hair, “god Azzi, baby I can’t wait to see you with our babies -fuck- our babies. Fuck baby I don’t know what you got me but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to be second best Christmas present I’m getting this year.

Azzi laughs breathlessly, her face still buried in Paige’s neck, “think it’s gonna be the best Christmas present ever,” she slowly lifts her head so she can brush away the tears from under her wife’s eyes, “I love you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone but you.”

Paige presses her lips against Azzi’s forehead, “me too baby. I love you so fucking much. You, me and our babies. It’s all I’m ever gonna want, all I’m ever gonna need.”

5. All I want (for Christmas is you)

There’s a lot going on in her house right now -the chatter of family and friends mingling with the sounds of Christmas Carols blaring from the speakers, the mixed aroma of a well-cooked meal and freshly baked desserts, the twinkly lights strung all around the house blinking in different colors- but Paige’s entire attention is across the room where both of her two children are hanging off of her wife like baubles on a Christmas tree. Miles is situated on her lap, his head buried in his favorite place, between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Sienna, always slightly more independent, has one hand wrapped around her mother’s ankle while she sits on the floor, her focus squarely on a princess coloring book. It’s a sight that will never stop making Paige’s heart swell with pride and happiness, her wife with their kids.

Slowly excusing herself from the conversation she’d been having with a relative, Paige makes her way over to her family -to her whole world- with a soft smile on her face. She sits down next to her wife, placing a kiss to her temple that makes Azzi smile, before pressing one to her son’s forehead over the younger woman’s shoulder, before finally picking her daughter off the floor onto her lap and giving Sienna a kiss on her cheek.

“Hi family,” she whispers and she thinks that if she could choose to have one picture ingrained in her mind forever, it would be a picture of the three smiles she gets in return. Miles’s is sleepy yet so sincere, Sienna’s is toothy and wide and Azzi’s- we’ll Azzi’s is exactly like it’s been since they were fifteen. It’s her Paige smile, one that is bright and beautiful and magnificent and filled with the promise of i’ll love you forever.

“Mama look,” Sienna coos, shoving her picture in front of Paige’s face, “I color a p-incess.”

“It’s beautiful Si-Si,” Paige says warmly, “I think it should probably go on the fridge once everybody’s gone home yeah?”

Azzi snorts, her voice dropping so only her wife can hear, “baby, I don’t think there’s any more space left on the fridge considering you’ve been putting up every single thing they’ve ever colored or made.”

“I’ll make space,” Paige says haughtily, “everything they make is fridge-worthy.”

Azzi shakes her head fondly but Paige knows that despite her words, she’ll be right there by her side tonight to help her make space on their rather cluttered fridge so that they could hang Sienna’s new masterpiece somewhere on it.

“Mi’s close to falling asleep,” Azzi gestures to the little boy in her arms who’s clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “I think we should probably let them open their Christmas Eve presents now.”

Despite Azzi trying to keep her tone to a whisper, Sienna’s ears perk up at the word “present” and she turns on Paige’s lap to face her Moms with large, hopeful eyes, “it’s pwesent time?”

“Yeah sweetheart. It's present time, but only one okay?” Paige taps Sienna’s nose gently, laughing when the little girl nods diligently and then squeals with excitement, rushing off of her mother’s lap so she can tell anyone within earshot that it’s time to open presents.

“I was gonna tell you to get everybody but I think she’s got it. She’s got your vocal chords for sure,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder teasingly before coaxing Miles’ head out her neck, “you ready to open a present Mi?”

Miles yawns and Paige can’t help but coo at how cute he looks as he stretches in his mother’s arms. It fascinates her, how despite being twins, Miles and Sienna sometimes feel like they’re years apart. And she knows they're only 3 years old, and she knows that they’ll both change over time but Paige thinks that the difference in their personalities makes them fit together even more beautifully. Sienna had a protective streak, always ready to shield her demure brother and Miles had a knack from calming Sienna down, always ready to comfort his boisterous sister.

“MI,” Sienna yells as she tugs on her twin brother’s arm, having somehow already gathered their family into the living room, “wake up Mi. Time to open a Ch-istmas Eve pwesent.”

“I coming Si-Si,” Miles says softly as he finally waddles off of Azzi’s lap, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he follows his sister towards the barrage of Christmas presents underneath the tree. Their mothers scooch off of the couch to stand closer to the tree, Paige wrapping her arms around Azzi from behind as she hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder.

“Alright Si-Si,” Tim says, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at his granddaughter, “remember, you should always pick the biggest present to open on Christmas Eve!”

Sienna’s eyes widen as she takes in her grandfather’s words before her gaze drifts towards the presents, scouting for the biggest one of them all. Paige drinks in the joy on her daughter’s face when she finally spots a large box that might just be taller than she is.

“That one!” Sienna says gleefully as she practically climbs over the rest of the gifts to get to her chosen one.

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out, her voice laced with hints of worry as she watches her daughter try to pick up the present that’s clearly heavier than she is.

“Uncle Drew,” Sienna croaks out, turning to Paige’s brother as she realizes just how big the present she’d chosen is, “help me pease!”

Drew laughs, wading through the sea of presents to get to his niece as he sedulously sits down to help her unwrap the gift. Paige tightens her grip around Azzi in anticipation as she watches for her daughter’s reaction. The twins are old enough this year to really understand their gifts and even though Paige is sure she knows them well enough -they’re her babies for fuck’s sake- to have gotten them present they’d love, she’s still a little scared they wouldn’t.

“Relax baby,” Azzi leans her head back to whisper into the blonde’s ear, having noticed the way Paige is fidgeting with the sleeve of the brunette’s sweater, “she’s gonna love it. She’s our daughter. We know her.”

Paige presses a delicate kiss against the back of her wife’s neck, “you always say the right thing.”

“Because I know you,” Azzi says softly, eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles at Paige.

They’re broken out of their reverie by their daughter screaming in excitement as she finally uncovers her present -a barbie basketball court-, and just like Azzi had predicted she would, she says, “I love it, I love it, I love it. Thank you Mama, thank you Mommy!”

Paige and Azzi laugh, opening their arms in tandem for Sienna to rush into, “we’re glad you like it Si-Si.”

“I love it,” Sienna corrects as she gives each of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“My turn now?” a meek voice cuts in and everyone's eyes fall onto Miles, who cowers slightly at having everyone’s attention.

“Yeah it is,” Paige grins at her son, tickling him lightly in the stomach before pushing him towards the presents, “pick whichever one you want to open Mi.”

Miles chews at his bottom lip, cautiously observing the huge pile of presents before turning to his Mothers’ with a way expression and Paige has to hide her grin, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask.

“Too many,” Miles says, bouncing nervously on his tiny little feet, “you help me pick pease Mama.”

Paige laughs as she gathers the little boy in her arms but not before she’s whispering in Azzi’s ear, “think he might be more indecisive than you baby,” which earns her a slight elbow to the stomach before she nods at her son, “of course I’ll help you pick sweetheart.”

She pretends to make a big show of searching for the right present, observing her son’s facial expression before she sees his eyes light up a little when she grabs a medium-sized blue one.

“Aha!” Paige yells triumphantly, causing all the adults in the room to snicker at her antiques, “think you should open this one Mi.”

Miles grins as he makes grabby hands towards the present in his mother’s hand. It takes him approximately four and a half seconds to rip off all the wrapping paper and his eyes marvel at the gift in his hands.

“Teddy,” Miles says in awe as he clutches the cuddly stuffed toy to his chest.

“Yeah it is baby,” Azzi nods as she kneels down next to the little boy, “here,” she points towards the blue heart on his chest, “how about you squeeze it?”

Miles does as he is told, squeezing the teddy-bear’s heart as tightly as he can and it starts to glow. Paige and Azzi’s voices ring out through the room, singing -slightly off-key- Miles’s favorite lullaby. The little boy’s eyes widen when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from his Mothers', both of whom have their mouths closed, but from the teddy-bear’s heart.

“Now, whenever you’re scared at night in your big boy bed, you can just squeeze teddy and it’ll be like Mommy and Mama are already there with you,” Azzi says softly as she brushes her hands through her son’s hair, “you like it Mi?”

“I’m gonna call it MoMa,” Miles says in lieu of an answer as he beams up at Paige and Azzi, “like Mommy and Mama but MoMa.”

Paige laughs, her eyes suddenly starting to feel a little wet, as she wraps an arm around Azzi’s waist, watching her children fawn over the presents they’d just opened. There’s plenty more left and she’s excited to watch their reaction to opening the others but the first ones are always just a little more special. And whether it was giving Sienna a basketball court, or giving Miles a version of their voices, through these gifts they’d tried to give their children a part of themselves.

“Hey,” Azzi snaps Paige out of her trance, her hand reaching down to intertwine with Paige’s as she begins to pull her away from their family, “come with me for a second.”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her chest, smirking as she follows her wife upstairs, “are you sneaking me into our bedroom to have a quickie? While our family and our children are right downstairs?”

Azzi turns to her with a cheeky grin as they enter their bedroom, tracing a finger down Paige’s arm, “would you object if I was?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Let’s do it,” Paige waggles her eyebrows, pulling Azzi into her chest but the younger woman immediately shrugs herself out of it as she goes into their closet instead, “oh okay then, leave me high and dry on fucking Christmas Eve.”

“Shut up,” Azzi chides, still rummaging through drawers before she finally emerges from the mahogany doors with a small silver box, walking back to Paige with a small smile on her face, “I figured you should get to open a present tonight too.”

“Well the present I was hoping to unwrap was you-” her joke is cut off by Azzi laughing.

“Baby please, you are way too old to be saying that shit.”

“Hey,” Paige says with mock offense, “first of all, I’m not that old and second of all, you’re never too old to be flirting with your wife.”

“First of all, it’s okay that you’re old baby, I like them a little older,” Azzi smirks, “and second of all, you are if the flirting's that corny and third of all,” she gives Paige a pointed look when the other woman open her mouth to counter, “shut up and open your present.”

“Still so bossy aren’t you princess?” Paige shakes her head but she does as she told, delicately removing the lid from the box and gasping when she sees the necklace inside, “baby, it’s beautiful.”

The necklace is similar to the engagement ring she’d gotten for Azzi, not the one from the fair all those years ago, but the real one. It’s a simple enough chain with a heart shaped diamond-encrusted locket, except on either side of the heart, the chain is looped into two infinity symbols.

“Open it,” Azzi says softly.

“What?” Paige asks, still staring dazedly at the dainty jewelry in her hands.

“The heart,” Azzi points to the locket, “it opens.”

Paige does as she’s told, delicately using her nails to pull apart the locket and a fresh set of tears brim in her eyes when she sees what’s inside. On one side of the heart is a picture of Miles and Sienna, the twins grinning at the camera and Paige remembers the exact moment she’d taken it. On the other side, is a picture of Paige and Azzi; specifically a picture of their kiss at their wedding.

“Baby,” Paige says again, uncannily lost for words.

“You’re really fucking hard to shop for you know that?” Azzi says slowly, her own eyes glistening with moisture “like what do you even get someone who basically has everything because you know- like you always say- we’re your everything -all you could ever want is me, Miles and Sienna- and we’re already yours, just like you’re already ours. And so I figured I’d just give you a reminder of it, something you can always keep with you so you always know.”

“It’s perfect,” Paige breathes out as she holds the locker out towards Azzi, “put it on me?”

Azzi grins as Paige turns around and the blonde watches through the mirror as the chain is placed carefully around her neck and her wife firmly clasps it together before placing a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

“I love you,” Azzi whispers when Paige turns back around, “for eternity.”

“I love you,” Paige whispers back, pulling her wife flush against her chest, the locket with her world hanging between them, “to eternity and beyond.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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martybaker · 2 days ago

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There was only one couch

Tfw you cannot find the jayvik fic you crave so you write it yourself 🙃

I also gotta preface this with - I cannot write science talk for the life of me, in my defense they are sleep deprived so if it doesn’t make much sense, it’s not supposed to 🙈

—————————

They’ve been stuck at this problem for hours, any potential paths they managed to come up with immediately shattering after but a couple pokes of logic aimed to test the solidity of their foundations. Like bubbles popped by a child’s finger. Like heated corn kernels. Like dreams of making a difference-

Viktor’s too tired to think in metaphors.

He drops the pencil and swivels in his chair, facing Jayce who’s already draped across their shabby sofa, long legs sticking out from one end, head inclined on the armrest on the side closer to Viktor.

“What if we…build an oven?” Jayce says. “Well not like, an oven, but reverse, a device that could contain the energy and…,” he waves his hands in the air as he talks, as if that would help illustrate his train of thought, “…uhhh, we could more safely work on directing the charges? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Viktor chuckles. He doesn’t know why he does, it’s not even particularly funny, the exhaustion must have erased any common sense of his that was left. Yet it’s…comforting to see that same exhaustion mirrored in Jayce. The same dark circles, the same bone deep tiredness weighing him down, the same look of frustration after they’ve been hitting dead ends and running in circles. It’s a shared exhaustion, just like the hard work is shared. Probably should have called it a night hours ago. They both direly need the rest.

“An oven? That would be your hunger speaking, I’m afraid,” Viktor says, reaching for his cane, grinding his teeth to gather the energy to push himself up onto his feet.

“Nah, m’not hungry,” Jayce mumbles. “We had those sandwiches for lunch. Or was it dinner? What time is it even?”

“Too late by all accounts,” Viktor says, taking the few steps towards the couch. He looks at Jayce, who seems glued to the couch and likely is planning to spend the night there. Viktor looks towards the door, but hesitates. The idea of the track across campus to his lodgings really doesn’t sound appealing.

It’s not even that far, the university tried to accommodate Viktor’s needs as best as they could and gave him a room on the ground floor, plus the building is the closest housing to the Engineering department’s laboratories. And yet, today it feels miles away. Damn his leg, damn all the stairs, and damn his hubris for yet again pushing his body beyond its limits, knowing fully well it will backfire ten folds and render him even more useless in the morning.

Jayce notices his hesitation, damn his partner’s bright mind too. He can read Viktor too well, he guesses the reason for his histation despite Viktor’s lack of complaining.

“Oh, do you wanna sleep here? I’ll head home, no problem,” he suggests way too readily, already hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

Viktor tsks and pushes against Jayce’s chest, pushing him back down into the couch.

“Stay,” he hisses. Jayce lives off campus, it would take him much longer to get home. Viktor’s not about to kick him out. And he doesn’t care for compassion either.

Jayce knows this, yet the man cannot help but be kind and caring, and though it irritates Viktor when it's aimed at him, it is also a quality of Jayce’s that he admires. He’s kind to everyone. Meets everyone halfway. Though at times they push too far, and Jayce lets them. Too kind for his own good.

Viktor shakes his head, trying to clean it, the stacked up piles of thoughts seem to have all spilled inside his brain and are rattling around. Rest. He needs to rest.

He looks at Jayce, who is still lying down on the couch, hands raised as if in surrender, big doe eyes staring at Viktor. Was Viktor too cross with him just now? He’s unable to determine. He pats Jayce’s knee in an attempt to smooth over his own prickly temperament.

“I just…I need to take a moment. Before I head out,” he tries. He hopes Jayce won’t insist. He is too tired to come up with reasonable arguments. He doesn’t wanna fight.

But Jayce doesn’t fight, he nods, then he bites his lip and opens his arms.

Hmm.

Viktor considers.

The couch is clearly too small for one grown man, let alone two.

Still it would be more comfortable than the chair.

And Viktor’s not averse to touch. Despite perhaps coming off as such. To everyone, except for Jayce.

It is true that he doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, especially unexpectedly. But he is human and just like for anyone else, there are moments when he would welcome touch. Moments when he finds it comforting. And Jayce is a very tactile person. He didn’t hold back from putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder the very first day they met, and he hasn’t stopped since. There was a moment near the beginning of their partnership when someone pointed out Viktor’s (alleged) aversion to touch and Jayce panicked, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, and it took days for Viktor to convince him he really didn’t mind. Because that was the truth, Viktor didn’t mind. Not when it was Jayce.

Of course cuddling on the couch was an entirely different matter.

They’ve never done that before, however, Viktor wasn’t a stranger to the comfort of a warm body next to his either.

From cuddling with his parents for warmth as a kid in one too small bed, to seeking the pleasures of a lover to relieve stress, the warmth of a body next to his was undoubtedly beneficial.

And he and Jayce are friends. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

And so Viktor slowly drops his cane to the floor and lowers one of his knees to the couch, trying to figure out how to arrange himself next to Jayce.

Jayce tries to help but it takes some maneuvering, what with Viktor’s leg and their sleep deprived brains, there are a couple of winces and pointy elbows and just way too many limbs, an “Oof” from Jayce when he earns a knee to his stomach, but eventually Viktor finds himself situated with his back against the back of the couch, his head on Jayce’s chest, right leg on top.

It’s…it’s warm.

It’s nice.

It’s not a big deal.

“Okay?” Jayce checks.

Viktor hums. He can hear Jayce’s heartbeat, feel his breath on his forehead. Smell the musk, the odor of an unshowered body, but he has no right to complain, they both haven’t showered for however many hours or days they’ve been locked in here.

Jayce’s heartbeat and breathing slows, but Viktor cannot slow his racing thoughts. He can feel every point of contact where their bodies are touching. He can feel Jayce’s muscular chest moving under his hand. Jayce’s right hand briefly pets Viktor’s hair before it settles on top of his shoulders. Viktor fights against the urge to burrow closer, to inhale Jayce’s smell, to tug his hand back into Viktor’s hair.

Stupid sleep deprived brain. Viktor could have figured such close proximity to a warm body would reduce him to animal instincts. He can only be glad he’s way too sleepy for his nether parts to react as well.

Jayce feels his restlessness. How could he not, pressed so close.

“Viktor,” he whispers, warm breath tickling Viktor’s forehead and despite himself Viktor exhales and melts against that strong chest even more. “You can rest, V, I’ll wake you in a couple of minutes and walk you home.”

My ass you will, Viktor thinks, we’re both gonna fall asleep here, your right side will be completely numb and my back will be killing me tomorrow. He’ll barely be able to stand. But he’s too tired and too comfortable to say any of that now. It’s a Tomorrow Viktor’s problem anyways. This Viktor burrow’s closer against Jayce’s chest, letting all his worries and all the problems fade, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.

#jayvik #jayce x viktor #arcane #jayvik fic #jayvik fanfic #arcane jayvik #jayce talis #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #my writing #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #one (1) throwaway sentence about microwaves and now i am having a whole ass crisis #about whether they have electricity in piltover #or chemtech or magicky substances or what #sigh i need to do more worldbuilding research

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bibittybopittybadbxtch · 3 days ago

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Snoop

Pairing: Choi Sungcheol x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend knows you’re a snoop. He’d never actually keep it in the house. You find a “ring box” with earrings inside. Christmas morning you go to unwrap the “earrings” and find your own personal easter egg.

Warnings: None…I think.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Hi hoes and hoochies (said with only affection)! I’m baaaccckkkkkk!!! Did ya miss me?? I have recently discovered that my ult bias had changed. This is his introduction into my oeuvre. Everyone say hello to Choi Sungcheol. *cheers and applause👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏* Please enjoy, I had sooo much fun writing this. Likes and Reblogs are welcome if you feel so compelled. BEWARE‼️‼️ spelling errors and grammar mistakes may lie ahead. PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION ⚠️⚠️

XOXO, Bibi

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

P.P.S

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate 🎄

Thanks For Reading ❤️

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It’s here. You know it is. You look in every secret hiding place you can think of, but you can’t it anywhere. It’s Christmas Eve and you’re convinced he’s going to propose. Sungcheol had been hinting at an engagement for months. The two of you have been together for almost 4 years. It’s time. You were sure that you both were on the same page. But where’s the ring? You just want a peek.

Between the 10+ years he had spent with Jeonghan and being your boyfriend for years, Sungcheol had learned how to deal with a snoop. He knew you’d check. So he thought he would leave something for you to find.

“Where the HELL is this ring!?” After flipping the 12th pair of underwear, you were frustrated. Determined to find a ring you flip over pair 13, and apparently today it’s your lucky number. Bingo. Ring box. Excitement floods your veins. Just a tiny peak. You take a deep breath and open the box…revealing a sparkling pair of diamond earrings. They’re gorgeous and probably cost a small fortune, but you can’t help the disappointment that you feel. You’re incredibly hurt and confused but Sungcheol will be home any minute, you’ve gotta get it together.

“Hey baby” Sungcheol greets as he enters the house. The moment he sees you he knows you had found the earrings in his drawer. Part of him feels bad. He never wants to be the reason his girl is upset, but this was a lesson you needed to learn. He makes his way over to where you’re lounging on the couch and places a kiss on your forehead. “Hey” you half hardly reply. You’re trying your best to remain indifferent but your feelings are hurt. S.Coups doesn’t question your mood, he knows the cause. He plops down next to you and grabs a few goldfish from your bowl. Despite your mood, you try to relax and enjoy the rest of your evening with your boyfriend. In the back of your mind you’re still thinking about, what not finding a ring means for your relationship. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, after all these years and the long talk the two of you had about a life together on your last trip to Jeju. Will he ever?

*Christmas Morning*

You wake up on Christmas morning both thrilled and anxious. Your best friend had flown in from out of town to spend Christmas with you. You make your way down the hall, to the guest bedroom where she’s staying. You knock before waiting for her response. When she welcomes you in, you plop yourself on her bed heaving a big sigh. “What’s the matter with you” she asks as she turns to rummage through her suitcase. You stare up at the ceiling for a second before speaking, “It’s Christmas and my boyfriend hates me”. She turns and looks at you puzzled. “What are you talking about, that boy is obsessed with you” she gets up and shoves you over so she can lay beside you. You give her a sad smile, “Apparently he’s only obsessed for now. Forever with me isn’t appealing to him.” She looks over at you and resists the urge to hit you. Instead she simply says, “You don’t even believe yourself.” You don’t have the energy to fight her so you stand and ask if she’s ready for breakfast.

After breakfast, the three of you move to the living room to open gifts. This is the part you’ve been dreading. You watch with a small smile as your best friend opens her presents. The three of you has played rock paper scissors. She won, Then Sungcheol, you were last. Once she finishes S.coups pipes up. “Okay, my turn.” Sungcheol unwraps his new watch and looks at you with a big dimpled smiled. “Thank you my heart, I love it. Okay Baby, your turn.”

This is it. You can do this. You begin unwrapping the box you had stolen a glance at last night. You will your hands not to shake as you begin to pry it open. Your mouth flies open in shock at the diamond ring inside. Your eyes raise from the box in your hand to Sungcheol who has shifted from his place beside you to on his knee in front of you. “Angel, will you say yes to forever? Will you say yes to late nights with crying babies and early mornings with teething toddlers? trips around the world and nights on the couch at home? Will you say yes to the rest of our lives together? Baby I wanna build our life together from the ground up. Will you marry me?” Sungcheol doesn’t get a chance to blink before you launch yourself into his arms. “YES!” you squeal, before burying your face in his neck and crying. Right now you’re to happy to try and figure out where the this ring came from. You were sure you’d checked everywhere.

Later that night you’re staring at your newest accessory, when something occurs to you. “Coupsie, where did you have the ring at?” Sungcheol turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “Wow. You gave yourself up that quick huh?” Your eyes go wide as you realize your mistake. “I- wait…what?” He shifts his body closer to you and clears his throat. “After we had that talk in Jeju about getting married, I immediately started looking at rings. I knew that meant that you would also start snooping for a ring in the house.” He pinches your side playfully before speaking again. “So, I went and looked at rings for a month after work before I found the perfect ring. I went online and had it ordered to the store near your best friend’s house. She’s been keeping it with her this whole time.” Your eyes tear up at his confession. You feel guilty for the way you had felt prior to his proposal. “When I couldn’t find the ring. I was convinced we weren’t on the same page, and you didn’t want to marry me.” you confess. Sungcheol sighs before pulling you into his arms. “I also figured that would happen. But I needed you to be surprised. You deserve to feel special. I want to make plans for you. Just relax, let me take the lead sometimes. I’ve got you.” You look at him with a soft smile, eyes brimming with tears. Never in your life had you felt so seen. You snuggle closer to him and shut your eyes. Sending out an internal “thank you” to the universe for bringing the two of you together.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svt #svt carat #choi #sungcheol #scoups #scoups x reader #scoups x you #scoups x y/n #scoups imagines #chirstmas #kpop #kpop bg

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mintsturniolo · 3 days ago

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She Said Yes (m.s)

biker!matt x f!reader

a/n: merry christmas everyone ❤️💚🤍

summary: the title says it all

Christmas had always been your favorite holiday. Especially since you and Matt had started dating. You loved being with his family during Christmas. You guys had been in Boston since early December which meant you had gotten to participate in all the family traditions that they had. You were currently in the kitchen talking with Mary Lou while the two of you cleaned up from the big meal she’d prepared. “You really didn’t have to make that cranberry pie,” you told Mary Lou, referring to the dessert she’d prepared just for you.

“Nonsense,” she replied with a smile. “As soon as Matt told me you’d be with us I planned to make it.”

You were about to reply when Chris burst into the kitchen. “Is it crazy that I’m still hungry?” he asked going straight to the fridge.

“We just ate,” Nick protested, following behind his brother.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s plenty of leftovers,” you told the youngest triplet, before going back to your conversation with Mary Lou.

“Hey babygirl,” you heard your boyfriend Matt say, and turned around.

You raised an eyebrow when you saw him fully dressed in his biker gear. Both helmets were in his hands, as he approached you, leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Wanna go for a ride?” offering you one of the helmets.

“Right now?” you asked, glancing at the pile of dishes that you still needed to help with.

Matt nodded eagerly. “I really want to spend time with you right now.”

Before you could reply, Nick took the pot you were holding. “I’ll help mom. You go ahead.”

You noticed the triplets and Mary Lou exchange looks, but you couldn’t figure out what was going on. Shrugging, you accepted the helmet that Matt was still holding out to you. “I should get my jacket though. For safety, you know,” you said.

“It’s with the bike,” Matt told you. “The dark grey one you really like.”

You could help but smile as the two of you made your way into the garage where sure enough your favorite leather jacket was laying across Matt’s motorcycle. You put it on and looked up at him. Matt nodded in approval before placing your helmet over your head. As he fastened the buckles, you playfully pulled down his visor. “Oh no you don’t,” Matt laughed, picking you up, and placing you on his bike. “Ready?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend as the motorcycle roared to life. You rested your head on Matt’s back as the two of you drove through town. As much as you loved having your own motorcycle, you always felt safe when Matt would let you be the backpack. You sighed contently, admiring the Christmas lights sparkling against the snow covered sidewalks.

You raised your head when Matt slowed down in front of your favorite Christmas tree lot. It had been your favorite place to go since your first Christmas in Boston. Matt got off the bike and gently lifted you off. “I thought you’d like a little walk among the trees,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your waist.

The two of you walked in silence for the first couple of minutes, just taking in the beautiful sights around you. The left over trees had been lit up, and a light snow had started to fall as the two of you walked. “I think we should stay a couple days extra,” you blurted out, and Matt looked at you.

“Oh?” he asked.

You shrugged as you stopped to admire a nearby tree. “I just really like it here. Just a day or two?”

“Yeah. I think we’d all like that,” Matt replied, seeming to suddenly get shy.

You glanced up at him, and noticed he was nervously chewing on his lip as he watched you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, with raised eyebrows.

“Nothing,” Matt replied. “I just…”

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Matt nodded and took a breath. “I just really need to get this off my chest,” he said shyly.

Seeing how anxious he was you decided to stay silent and let him say whatever it is he wanted to say. You nodded and Matt took your hands in his. “These have been the best two years of my life,” Matt told you. “We’ve gone through so much and I know it hasn’t been easy, but you’ve changed the way I look at the world…”

Your eyes filled with tears as you listened to what Matt was saying to you. It was like you were falling in love all over again. Matt smiled at you, clearly getting more comfortable. “You are my world. I fall in love with you more every single day. You show me nothing but love and have made me the happiest I’ve ever been…” he continued, his hand reaching into his pocket.

Your eyes widened as Matt pulled out as small box. “…and if you give me the chance, I’ll spend everyday of my life trying to make you feel the way I have these past couple of years.”

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped as Matt lowered himself to one knee and opened the box, revealing the ring inside.

“Will you marry me?” he asked as he looked up at you.

You nodded as Matt gently pushed the ring onto your finger. “Yes. Oh my God. Yes, I’ll marry you Matthew,” you sobbed as Matt stood up and hugged you.

You couldn’t stop looking at the ring on your hand as you processed what had just happened. You leaned in, and gently kissed Matt. “I love you so much.”

Matt kissed you back, before taking a look at your hand. “It looks good on you.”

* time skip *

You hadn’t stopped looking at the ring on your hand since the two of you had left the Christmas tree lot. Matt kept a hand on your waist as you walked into the house. The family got quiet when they saw you. Matt couldn’t contain his smile as he took your hand. “She said yes,” he announced before pulling you close and kissing you.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos @ivysturnss @ksturnz @emely9274 @amelia-sturniolo3

#sturniolo fanfic #fluff #matt sturniolo #imagine #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader

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st-eve-barnes · 3 days ago

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I always make this end of the year post on here looking back on the good and bad things that happened that year but I don't really know where to begin this time. Ever since we buried my aunt in February and had a car accident on the same day this year has felt very off and it hasn't changed since.

Even yesterday we celebrated Christmas with the family and it ended in drama, which just does not happen in our family, ever. (it involved my sister's bf, our family is fine). But it just feels in line with the rest of this weird year.

There's been several deaths around us this year and I've never had as many sick days before, nothing big (I'm lucky here) but many smaller things piling up.

I've been quiet on here lately in fandom as well because I feel like I lost my fangirl vibe a bit. I stopped writing months ago and just been feeling very meh about it all (of course the disappointing season 2 and now lack of content doesn't help). It is what it is, I can't force it.

But let me end with the positive because there have been a lot of good things and many beautiful moments as well. One of the major things for me this year is that I managed to kick my depression. I was in a very dark place last year and the beginning of this one, crying so often for no reason and feeling very out of touch with everything. I'm glad to say I've been feeling much better in that department. The goal for next year is to now kick my anxiety because that one has been on a high this year (how could it not with the state of the world right now??)

But back to the positive, while I've been quiet on here I've been more present in real life, focussing on other hobbies and spending more time outside. When I stopped writing I also picked up reading books again and I'm really enjoying it and indulging in it. My husband has been through it all with me last year and it only confirms what I already knew, that he is the best guy in the entire world. We've grown closer this year (if that was even possible), he is my rock and the absolute best thing in my life.

I'm not quite sure what next year will bring, my anxiety makes it hard to feel entirely positive, but we have a lot of things to look forward to and I hope fandom can pull me back in and I might even write something again one day. But I'm not forcing the muses to come back, things are good as they are now and you might get more aesthetic than fandom posts on this blog for a while longer ;)

I want to tag some people that have kept me company during this year. I hope your holidays are everything you want them to be and the next year will bring you good things❤️ (this goes for all my mutuals not just the ones I tag because I will forget so many people)

@neonhairspray @whitedarkmoonflower @koediepatoedies @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @bouncehousedemons @lipstipsky @felteppsters @kaelatargaryen @ms-oswald @lovebittenbyevans @aemonds-fire @dr-aegon @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @lord-aldhelm @persephonerinyes @poppy-in-the-woods @anjelicawrites @gemini-mama @mrsarnasdelicious @livmondcole @sylasthegrim @thenameswinter99

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tcrocky14 · 3 days ago

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ONESHOT: MERRILY ALONG—tennis! star x Paige

((Okay I’ve been writing on Wattpad and never thought to put my work on tumblr so here we go! Plz be gentle I’m still new at this but I love manifesting life with P))

———————————————————————————-

After the 2024 WTA Finals(which you won) you were excited for a real break. Grant you it's less than a month, and most of that will be spent doing sponsorship work and photo shoots, but you still couldn't wait.

After winning the Finals, you hopped on a plane to Miami still wearing your photo shoot dress from winner's photos. You were so excited to be sleeping on your own bed and to see your family. Life could slow down at least a little before you were back on Tour.

You were given two weeks to truly rest and exercise like a normal person before training would start back. You planned to visit Paige, but her season at UCONN was really just beginning. The timing couldn't have been worse but you knew she felt most comfortable on the court, just like you.

Since college basketball was firing up, her name was beginning to really skyrocket in the press. And her partnerships were increasing too. With you as the highest paid athlete in women's sports and P as the highest paid CWBB player, you were unstoppable!

Her shoe with Nike just dropped and you genuinely cried the day every player for UCONN wore them at their game! You wish you could wear them for a day for support but New Balance is your shoe home. It's so surreal that P has a shoe while in college but you believe she's always meant to break records and set trends. You're just happy the world mainly agrees with you on that.

On December 21st, UCONN & USC play each other, at arguably the biggest game of the year. You knew you wanted to be there because everyone's eyes would be on Paige and JuJu, which could get stressful. Maybe having you there as moral support would make it a bit better . She's born for the world stage, but that doesn't mean you don't worry about her mental health.

You promised your team that you'd be back in Miami right after Christmas. They wanted you to play United Cup, especially since you didn't plan on defending the ASB Classic title , but you were prioritizing your relationship....for once.

This is Paige's (likely) last year in college and you want to be there for her. There's so many moments you both have to miss because of your athletic careers, and it's easy to feel disconnected when you're constantly in different time zones. Once she's in the WNBA, it'll hopefully be more flexible and you'll spend more time together.

But for now, you weren't going to miss big moments for a WTA250 or United Cup. Your team wasn't the happiest about your plans, and tried convincing you to change your mind. But it was already set: you'd fly to Storrs, CT that day and watch Paige. Then you'd both fly out to Minnesota to see her family for Christmas. Her next game is the 27th so you'll fly back to Miami while she goes back to school. Even a few days together has you anxious to remind her exactly why being long distance is worth it.

You haven't told her, but you've picked out the perfect presents for her dad, stepmom, and Drew. You've also found something for your perfect gf. Drew has a game of his own the very day after her game, so you guys will be jet-lagged but supporting him. You've met Paige's family a few times now but you still feel jittery before arriving. You don't know why because they're the nicest people, yet you always want to show you're a great girlfriend with good energy.

——————-

You were still in Miami trying to pick out what you could wear to the game Saturday. It was Thursday night so you needed to start packing, especially since you wanted to pack light. Living life basically out of a suitcase made packing during the offseason a disgusting experience. The less you had to travel the better, yet it seemed you were never home for more than a few days. The life of a "celebrity" was taxing and companies knew offseason was a better time for your brand dealings. You wished you could do photo shoots from home but you try to remember how many people would KILL to be in your position.

For the game, you're thinking of a look you saw Bella Hadid wear a few years back. A green NorthFace jacket with black barrel jeans and black loafers. You'll definitely be wearing your glasses to the game for an even more comfortable experience. Then, for traveling to Minnesota and for Drew's game you'll wear an oversized grey New Balance sweatshirt with sweatpants and a camo hat. Cute-comfy— your favorite!

You began folding the clothes not so neatly when your sister came in. She's back home from Tulane for the holidays and you're really going to miss her the few days you're gone. Having a younger sister is one of the best things in life and you miss when she's away for college. Although you guys text and call each other almost everyday it's different when she's in person.

"Whatcha doing??," Anna asked, using her best Isabella voice from Phineas and Ferb. "Packing for my trip and failing to fold my clothes neatly," you said. You're definitely going to need a steamer when you travel because your clothes are going to be wrinkled from this lazy folding.

"I wish I could come with you!" Anna said. And honestly, if it was just to watch the game, you'd for sure bring your sister along. But Christmas at the Bueckers' house is for their family only and you're just getting used to joining.

Most of the time, Paige visits your family because she loves the Miami weather and enjoys the area. It's difficult in Minnesota when it's cold more often than not and her family has normal jobs .

The Heller family feels like it orbits your tennis career, something you wish wasn't true but definitely is. Tennis is so demanding, even compared to other sports, and your family has sacrificed a lot for you to continue being a top player. Basketball is difficult and can be expensive, but college helps ease the journey a lot. While Paige is at UCONN her family still maintains a normal life. While for you, the matches and your traveling schedule can affect everything.

That's why this Christmas is so special. You have a few days to hang out casually before the holiday and really soak it what being a Bueckers is like. You'd never tell anyone right now, but you're hoping this is practice for the rest of your life. Although it's only been a year, you picture growing with Paige and starting a family of your own. You look at people like Stewie and can't help but hope to have a little family of your own someday. Being in good cahoots with her family right now is important and luckily, it's been great so far

—————————

Friday passes quickly, thank God, because you leave for CT Saturday morning. The plane ride is a bit bumpy but it's the cold that stings the most. As soon as you step off the plane you're hit with the bite of a Connecticut winter. It felt weird boarding the plane in multiple layers but you're so happy you didn't dress Miami-Style for this trip.

Since it's the day of the game, Paige has practice most of the day. That means her good friend Kayla volunteers to pick you up, and you're very excited. As a fellow Black girl, you and Kayla get along too good. Each conversation leads to cackling and you even have a few inside jokes together. As much as KK and Ice are your girls, Kayla's super cool people. AND she's not on the team, so she can help with times like this!

You wait for your luggage and a teenager comes up asking for a picture. She seems shell-shocked from meeting you, something you never get used to. You're almost positive the picture will be on "Frances Heller" and "Paige Bueckers" fan accounts in the next hour. People will surely speculate but this is a big game, and who can blame you for wanting to see it in person?

You spot Kayla, or rather hear her music, right when you step outside the airport gate. She gets out to help with your luggage but you've only brought two carry-ons: your Glossier duffle and a New Balance black backpack. Like you said: packing light was key for this trip.

You guys catch up on all things life before pulling into the apartment complex Kayla and the girls live in. You go to text Paige you've made it but you see she's already texted that she's in practice, but can't wait to see you.

"She was obsessing over your location on the Find app," Kayla says. "She literally was refreshing it every second before they had practice even though SHE KNEW you were on the plane and undetectable."

Just hearing Paige's name makes your heart beat faster. It's corny, you know it is, but imagine being so in love with someone and NEVER getting to see them. You can literally count on your hands how often you and Paige see each other throughout the year and that's with big compromises in both schedules.

You go up to Kayla's apartment and patiently (very impatiently) wait for bball practice to be over. Since it's game day, there's one short-ish practice during the day and then real practice before game time. You mimic Paige and begin refreshing all the apps you guys communicate through: text, Snapchat, Find, anything to see whether she's out.

Eventually, her DND status on text goes away and Kayla has to watch you become an absolute fool as you wait for your girlfriend. Paige gets back and knocks on Kayla's door which you open with every cell in your body.

"FRANNY!" "SWEET P!" You two collide into one another with the same energy. The hug says: "I miss you, I love you, how are you?, all at once. It's like every event and moment that's been missed since the last time you've seen another culminated into a tight hug that lasts forever.

"I miss you so so so much Paige," you say, trying not to cry. You're not necessarily sad, just overwhelmed and relieved . You can feel in her hug that she must feel the same, and any insecurities from a long-distance relationship go away like a puff of smoke.

You go back to their apartment while Paige makes a quick snack. Once she's finished eating. She lets you know she misses you in another way. Thank goodness you can't detect blushing on your skin tone because you feel like you're about to burst into flames.

It's been SO LONG since you've been intimate with anything besides a silicone toy and you miss Paige's body. After her shower at the facilities, her hair is still wet and slightly curly. It's one of your favorite looks on her and doesn't help your desire to absolutely devour her.

She tries to casually insinuate your unexpected trip to the car but everyone knows what's going on. You'd rather have sweet moments in her bed, but it'd be unfair to her teammates/roommates. And you can't kick everyone out of the apartment either, totally not cool. So instead you head out to Paige's Grand Cherokee at an excited pace and allow her to drive you to the back of the parking lot.

It's still romantic with the snow falling and your tight space to work with. She turns on the warmers in the SUV and asks you to head to the backseats. Her playlist designed for these *moments* begins playing softly and you savor every minute in the backseat of her car....

———————-

Once you guys finished (no pun intended) you head (maybe a bit puny) back upstairs. You try taming your hair and fixing your swollen lips as best you can. But let's face it, the women in this apartment are going to absolutely clown you both.

"Oh y'all back? It's been almost an hour! Where'd you say y'all was going again??" Kk, per usual, is the first person to say something. Everyone else smirks to one another and Jana even films to put on her private SC later.

"We was busy." That's all Paige says as she blushes, smirks, and daps up Ice and KK. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she exemplifies pure fukboy energy. You so badly want to hate it but it's kinda hot...which she definitely knows because she continues smirking in your direction. You sit next to her and try to redirect the conversation to ANYTHING else but it takes a minute.

They're superstitious about talking about the game so it's talk about your stuff instead. You tell them your plans with Paige for the next few days and how preseason warmups are coming along. Before you know it, everyone's getting up because it's time for pregame. You give Paige a million kisses as she gets ready to leave and then wait around until it's time to get dressed and leave.

—————-

You're not sure Paige would love your mode of transportation to the game but what else could you decide? Uber's are booked the entire way and the school shuttles are only for actual students. If you didn't have to show a school ID you would've hopped on or hoped a driver was being super nice but few have even passed. So instead, you're walking to the XL arena.

It's really not that far, so you don't mind the walk. Except for the fact that it's FREEZING. You can feel the inevitable sickness building in your body as you continue walking but that's what you do for love. You'd laugh at how ridiculous you feel, if you could feel your face.

Finally you get to the game and it's beyond packed. You knew it was a big game and sold out but it's bonkers trying to get inside. Even with a special pass you have to wait to get inside, letting the frost continue to harass you.

Once you make it inside you see a few girls get out their phones to video your entrance. It's weird, because you feel slightly conceded about it. But you also feel violated. And you never feel quite important enough to be taped walking into a gym. Yet here you are, and there's the phones capturing every moment.

You're not sitting courtside since that's reserved for paying members. Instead, you're a few rows up. Nothing crazy, but not on the ground. You realize how awkward you feel without somebody tagging along and wish you maybe would've brought your sister. Or even your twin Jack. But what would they do while you loved up on Paige all day?

So instead you got on your phone and waited for the starting lineup presentation. You filmed the whole thing and couldn't even hear the announcer say Paige's name because of the screams. It made you feel so special being Paige's girl when plenty of college girls, and adult women, fought for her attention. From shirts and fathead signs to homemade posters, it was obvious she grabbed people's attention.

From the moment the game began, UCONN had a difficult time. You didn't know why, but something just wasn't clicking that clearly worked better for USC. You really like JuJu Watkins and had a hard time rooting exclusively for UCONN, but your girl comes first.

After fighting tooth and nail they finally started coming back. With 8 seconds left, the game was only being won by two points . You knew how badly Paige wanted to win, with the country watching....if not the world. But sometimes, it's not just about who wants it. Being a super-senior meant Paige had some great highs and some lower-lows. This, would in fact, become a low.

—————

It was obvious how frustrated P was with herself. She was SO hard on herself, as most athletes are. But as the oldest on the team, she really felt like she was letting everyone down. You could see it in her demeanor and how she spoke to press. You only hoped she'd be able to see all the positives from the game and release herself from the pressure of it all. It's much easier than it looks though, you know from experience.

After speaking to Fox sports and Holly Rowe, Paige was making her way over to you. A literal LINE OF PEOPLE had formed while she was being interviewed who wanted to take pictures and get her autograph. You knew she wouldn't leave till everyone was satisfied, something you admired about her. Each person felt important in her eyes and she made sure to let them know. How lucky you were to be with someone so humble and kind to anyone.

She told the crowd to wait one sec as she walked over to your section. Now you really knew people would film this and talk about it for a while. But honestly , who cares. You were shocked she even saw you in the section because of how intense the game had been.

The security guard removed the tape so Paige could slip by and give you a big hug. You whispered in her ear that she was so amazing and you hoped she'd known how bright she shines on the court. She nodded but didn't seem affected by your words which kind of stung. You knew at least be a few hours had to pass before she was truly cheery again, right now was just a performance of her fans.

She asked you to wait around until they were leaving the arena and to join them on the team bus. You felt like this was a big overstep and didn't want to piss Geno off, especially after the loss. You made her promise it was fine and already approved before you agreed to join them on the bus.

The rest of the night was a blur until suddenly, you were laying on Paige's purple sheets with her head on your chest. You continued to stroke her head and tried falling asleep because your flight tomorrow was super early.

———————————-

At the airport, a few fans asked for pics with you and Paige. It was so funny how fans of Paige began "stanning" you like an extra piece to the Paige puzzle. At 5 in the AM you only could pray you didn't look awful in the fan photos since you knew that'd be on social media later. After taking pics you sat at the terminal and then boarded the plane. It really wasn't a bad experience, even with a connecting flight.

Paige's dad picked y'all up and you could tell she missed Minnesota. With the photoshoots and games and everything else she visited home less and less. When her dad got out of the car she turned into Baby P again, rushing to her dad's arms. It was so sweet and made you feel fuzzy that she collapsed in his hug. Maybe she was feeling better now!

Mr. Bueckers brought you into the hug and the three of you laughed as people watched. He was arguably the coolest guy in Minnesota besides Gov. Waltz. You guys left the airport and picked up Culver's on the way to Drew's game. Even with an early flight you guys were making it right on time.

Drew's game was so well and they won! Even better, Drew won MVP and got a comically large MVP chain to wear. You guys gassed him up hard and he blushed the entire time. It was cute seeing Paige loving on Drew like a child of her own. ...you really needed to stop thinking about Mommy P and focus lol.

——————-

Once Christmas rolled around, you'd gotten comfortable at the Bueckers house. The past few days had been so chill yet never boring. And you didn't feel like you were walking on eggshells around the family.

You wore an Oxford shirt with a sweater vest over it tucked into a plaid mini skirt with black tights. You looked adorable, like a Christmas present.

Y'all went to church and then headed home to unwrap presents. Drew wanted to open presents before Mass but it was way too early for that.

You got Paige's parents a gift they'd told her about a while back, a bar cart and a Baristia machine to make cocktails. Drew got a new game for his PS5 and promised to play with you whenever you were in town.

For Paige, you got her a custom stack of cards with paintings of you guys on it. She always loved sentimental gifts more than expensive ones and she really liked this! You also gave her a Tiffany necklace similar to yours with F+P engraved inside. She put it on and never took it off, even to sleep.

————

After a full day of festivities and meeting a few Bueckers you'd never met, it was time to go to bed. It was hard to fall asleep because tomorrow, you'd be on your way back to Miami and she'd be going back to UCONN. These few days were so good, you wish you could bottle them up for when you miss her most.

Right before you start falling asleep she tells you she has one more gift for you. She reaches in her bag and pulls out the most adorable stuffed bunny in a Christmas outfit. She gives you the bunny and tells you to press on her paw. When you do, Paige's voice starts to speak.

"Anytime you miss me, just press the paw, and I'll be right there!" She gives you the cutest little smile while she waits to see if you like her extra gift. "ALSO, I sprayed her clothes with some of my perfume, so hopefully she'll smell like me for a while too."

You try not to cry your eyes out at the audacity of your girlfriend to be so sweet. You never would've thought of such a unique and kind gift.

"Thank you so much Paige, I love it!" You see her relax a bit at her successful gift. "I can't believe you're real sometimes, you're too good to me!"

You don't meant to sound insecure or anything, but she shuts anything like that down. "I'm so happy we're together Franny, I'd go to the moon for you."

"Maybe even the North Pole?" You joke, since it's Christmas.

"I go to college in the middle of nowhere Connecticut Frances, that's basically the North Pole."

You two laugh and then settle into a comfortable sleeping pattern. You know tomorrow you'll have to say goodbye at least for 2-3 months. But right now, you can't think of a life without Paige Bueckers in it.

——-❤️‍🔥END❤️‍🔥——-

🎄Happy Holidays!

#paige bueckers #paigebueckersfluff #bueckers #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers x reader #tennis

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seokmn · 1 day ago

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FAILURE

pairing: dokyeom x gn!reader

wc: 0.6k words

lua’s note: maybe this fic is a bit specific because its kinda a vent. i wanted to get this out of my chest somehow and decided to post it because maybe there’s someone who’s going through the same thing as me and need to read these words. essa vai pros que so fizeram o enem e vestibulares de faculdades publicas e nao passaram pra segunda fase deles e agora precisam esperar a nota do enem pra meter no sisu ou prouni 😛

another instagram story you viewed, another text with those three cursed words you read and another ‘congratulations, lets celebrate it!’ you had to write as a reply for that text. you sighed, placed your phone on your lap and hid your face with your hands.

the only thing that comes to your mind right now is the word failure. you failed and now you have to watch other people celebrate their accomplishments.

seokmin heard your sigh and turned around to look at you, taking sight of your disappointed figure. he stopped cooking, dropping the knife and washing his hands before sitting down next to you on the couch. his hand rested on your thigh, a way to try to comfort you without words being said. he already had an idea about why were you like that. “another one?”

you hummed and stopped hiding your face. you looked at him with a small smile and nodded. “another one,” you looked down and took his hand before looking back at him, trying to sound and look okay. “another friend of mine was accepted at the university she wanted.”

seokmin let out a quiet sigh and rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand. he didnt say anything, already knowing you’d keep venting about it to him. “im happy for her, i really am. but i cant help but ask myself: is this it? am i going to stay behind while all my friends will go to college and live their lives? am i too dumb to go to college?” your lips began to tremble and your voice was cracking, “and i hate myself for feeling this way, i hate to compare my life to theirs and not being able to be happy for them without feeling miserable about my situation. they studied a lot for this and they deserve it, but i studied as well. is it something wrong with me?”

seokmin frowned and placed your head against his chest. “theres nothing wrong with you,” he began to caress your head, trying to soothe you. “you said yourself that this year took a toll on you because of studies, trying to be sure about your future and trying to find an university that youd like the thought of studying there. do your things in your own pace. you not being accepted in any university until now doesnt mean youre a failure, you cant be accepted in any university yet because you gotta wait your results of the national exam come out.”

he cupped your cheeks and pulled you away from his chest so you could look at each others eyes. “listen to me, you are not a failure, okay? you just graduated from high school, youre so young and you have so much things to do. take your own time, that doesnt mean youre staying behind. that means you’re building your own path.”

you nodded as he brushed your tears away with his thumb. listening to his words was like being hugged by your mother after spending a whole day away from her when you were a little kid, was like being kissed by the wind while watching the sunset at the beach with a loved one.

seokmin always knew how to comfort you, how to make you realize youre not being fair with yourself and that you should be way kinder with yourself because you are loved and are capable of doing anything.

“dont forget about that,” he kissed your forehead and stood up, looking at you with love in his eyes and that comfy smile that no one else but him could smile like that. “now help me to cook. we’re going to eat a delicious meal and then spend the rest of the day watching your favorite sitcom”

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berberriescorner · 3 days ago

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Under the Mistletoe and Moonlight🎄♥️

Character: Husband!Angel Reyes x Black!Reader.

Word Count: 500+.

"A Season of Love Christmas Series 🎄♥️"

The soft glow of Christmas lights illuminated the room, casting warm colors against the walls. You were half-asleep, snuggled under the heavy quilt Angel had thrown over both of you hours ago. His warmth had been your cocoon all night, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, his steady breathing lulling you into the kind of peace only he could bring.

But when you stirred, reaching for him, the bed was empty. His absence made your brows furrow, your heart longing for his closeness.

“Angel, baby?” you murmured groggily, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Right here, querida,” his familiar voice replied, low and warm, like the promise of something soft and sweet.

You turned to see him standing in the doorway, his frame illuminated by the twinkling Christmas tree in the next room. He wore sweats slung low on his hips and nothing else, his tattoos catching the light in the most distracting way.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice husky with sleep as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

Angel smirked, that grin that made your heart flutter and your pulse race. “Couldn’t let Christmas morning pass without making it memorable,” he said, stepping into the room. He held a tray with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, a plate of your favorite store-bought Christmas cookies, and… mistletoe dangling from the corner of the tray.

Your lips curled into a smile. “Mistletoe, huh?”

“Gotta use it while it’s legal,” he quipped, setting the tray on the nightstand before climbing onto the bed. He leaned over you, the mistletoe dangling above your heads, his smirk turning softer as he met your gaze. “Merry Christmas, mi dulce.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, his hand sliding to cup the back of your head. The taste of him—familiar and intoxicating—left you breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes locked on yours. “I know I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m damn sure gonna spend every day proving why you’re stuck with me, mami.”

Your chest tightened, and you reached up to cradle his face, your thumb brushing over the faint stubble on his jaw. “Angel… you’ve always been enough for me. Always.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, and he kissed you again, slower this time as if savoring the moment. “You’re my everything, querida. You and this life we’ve built… that’s all I need.”

He reached over to the tray, grabbed the hot chocolate, and handed it to you. “Now drink up, ‘cause I’ve got another surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip. “Yeah? What might that be, Ignacio,” you questioned teasingly.

“Let’s just say…” He leaned back, the smirk returning as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your thigh. “It’s waiting for you under the tree. But I gotta warn you, it’s wrapped kinda sloppy. Didn’t have much practice, you know?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you set the mug down. “Angel Reyes, at your big age? You should know how to wrap a damn present by now,” you sassed playfully. “Is this why I had to wrap Maverick’s gifts? I’m telling your father! Just ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he teased, pulling you into his arms again.

“I do,” you whispered, letting yourself melt against him. “Merry Christmas, Papa.”

“Merry Christmas, mi reina,” he replied, his voice a soft promise as he held you close, the rest of the world fading away under the glow of the lights and the warmth of his love.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, my babies! MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄♥️!!

Tagging some lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @ravennaortiz

@sunshine-flower @hornyslasher @playgurlxoxo

@cosypinky2 @thebumbqueen @tashawar

@olyvoyl @1andonlytashae @hennyjwrites

@tbugger01 @gabbywontlose @buttershea07

@starrynite7114 @niaaalovesficton

#berberriescorner #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x woc!reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x y/n #mayans mc fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfic #angelreyes #daddy angel #zaddy angel #black writer

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ikkyfics · 16 hours ago

Note

Pleaseee Vampire James x pregnant reader?? A surprise dhampir babyyy

Just Mine

Vampire!James x pregnant!reader

Summary: “Did you know I never imagined anything could be more beautiful than you?” he murmured, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the silver light. “But here you are. You… carrying what we created together. A piece of me, inside you.” The reverence in his voice was almost devastating, each word laden with an intensity that seemed to heat even the air around them.

Warnings: blood (nothing serious) - a possessive James

A/N: anon, hope you like it <333 - have I mentioned how much I love vampires?

Masterlist

The night seemed more alive to James, as if every shadow danced in celebration of the miracle you carried. The silver light of the moon entered through the window, bathing the scene in an ethereal, almost supernatural glow. He was there, lying beside you, one of his large, cold hands resting on your rounded belly. His long fingers moved gently, tracing slow circles over the fabric of your thin nightgown, as if engraving in his memory every curve that your pregnancy had shaped.

“You look beautiful like this, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, carrying that tone that always made your skin tingle. His blue eyes shone intensely, fixed on you with a reverence that made your heart race. “So full of me... our life growing inside you.” He smiled, his white teeth standing out as his sharp fangs showed, a sensual and dangerous reminder of what he was.

“James,” you whispered, your voice slightly breaking with emotion. Your hand covered his over your belly, your fingers warming the cold skin that seemed to bring an inexplicable comfort. “You always say that. You always make me feel like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.”

“Because you are.” He leaned in, his black, rebellious hair falling forward as his lips found your belly, leaving a cold kiss there. His eyes lifted to meet yours again, the vibrant blue contrasting with the darkness of the room. “You and him... you’re everything. Every day that passes, I only become more certain of that.”

You laughed softly, the sound low and cozy, as your fingers slid to touch his face, tracing the perfect contour of his jaw. “And who takes care of you, James? I don’t want you to forget that... you’re mine too, you know?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if absorbing your words. When he opened them again, there was something even more intense there, something almost devastating in his devotion. “I’m yours. In every sense, forever. But taking care of you is what keeps me alive. Knowing you’re safe... knowing I can give you everything. That’s enough for me.”

He moved closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “You understand, don’t you? What you mean to me? My light in the darkness... my whole world. If I could, I would keep you here forever, where no one can touch you, where I know you’re protected.”

“I know, James,” you replied, your eyes filling with tears that he quickly wiped away with the tips of his fingers, gently. “And I trust you. With everything I am.”

There was something in the scent you now carried that drove him mad—something warm, sweet, full of promises and love. He often pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply, as if each breath were vital to him. And there was always that satisfied, possessive smile. “You have no idea how irresistible you are... how it feels knowing you belong to me, in every sense.”

“James,” you called him again, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “I’ll never belong to anyone but you. Not even before all this... before us. You know that, don’t you?”

He chuckled softly, his expression overflowing with pride and a joy that seemed impossible for someone like him, a creature made of darkness. “I know. And I swear I’ll spend every moment of our eternity reminding you of that.”

With that, he pulled you closer, enveloping you in an embrace that was both protective and intimate, while his hands gently caressed your belly once more. “Our son. My blood. Our eternity,” he whispered, and there was a promise in his voice that seemed to echo forever into the vastness of the night.

“Did you know I never imagined anything could be more beautiful than you?” he murmured, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the silver light. “But here you are. You… carrying what we created together. A piece of me, inside you.” The reverence in his voice was almost devastating, each word laden with an intensity that seemed to heat even the air around them.

You smiled at him, your hand covering his. “It’s the most precious piece. I never thought I could feel so complete, James.” Your voice was soft but firm, full of sincerity.

He tilted his head, the smile taking on a more predatory edge, though still filled with tenderness. “And that’s exactly why you need to take care of yourself. You need to be strong. For you. For him.” The way he looked at you—as if you were all that existed in the world—made your heart leap.

Before you could respond, he gently pulled you closer, positioning you in his lap with an ease that betrayed his supernatural strength. His cold fingers caressed your face as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on yours. "It's time for you to feed." He didn't phrase it as a question, but rather as a statement, as if he already knew your body craved what only he could provide.

Your heart raced, not out of fear, but because of the familiar and inexplicable excitement these moments always brought. You didn't hesitate — you never did. Instead, you watched with palpable hunger as he raised his own wrist, the pale skin highlighting the veins. With a precise movement, he made a small cut, dark blood beginning to surface. The scent reached you almost instantly, rich, seductive, impossible to ignore.

You carefully held his wrist, but the urgency in your touch did not go unnoticed. He watched every movement, his blue eyes locked on you, glowing with something bordering on fascination. When your lips closed around the cut, he let out a low sigh, satisfied.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and laden with a tone that made your skin tingle. His fingers moved to the base of your neck, his touch almost possessive as he kept you close. "That's it... that's right. You need this. You need me."

You couldn't deny it. You didn’t want to. The taste was indescribable, a mixture of need and pleasure, and the way he watched you only made the moment more intense. He encouraged you, whispering soft and seductive words, his hand now sliding to your back as he pulled you even closer.

"You're perfect like this, you know? So hungry for me... as it should be," he whispered against your hair, his voice deep and filled with an almost palpable satisfaction. The other cold, firm hand moved up to caress your belly again, his long fingers tracing slow, reverent circles on the stretched skin. "Everything about you is mine. It always has been." The low timbre of his words vibrated in the air, as possessive as it was passionate.

He tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes burning into you like two cold flames. Your heart, already racing from the intensity of the moment, beat even faster, and he could hear every pulse with supernatural clarity, like a song composed just for him. "I can hear it," he murmured, a smile forming on his lips, revealing the tip of his fangs. "Your heart. So fast. It's beating for me, isn't it?"

You couldn't answer, but the way your fingers tightened slightly around his wrist was enough. He laughed, a low sound, almost a purr, that seemed to reverberate through your body. "Ah, my sweet girl. So dependent on me... and I love it." The words came out laced with pride, but there was something deeper there — a fierce desire to protect you, to keep you always within his reach.

As you drank, he adjusted his position, pulling you even closer to his body. The way he held you was a perfect contrast between strength and care. His fingers, cold but comforting, slid down your back in slow caresses, while his other hand remained on your belly, as if needing to feel the life growing there to believe it was real. "My child," he murmured almost to himself, a glimmer of adoration in his eyes. "My blood. Our blood. You're giving me the greatest gift anyone could."

Minutes passed, but he showed no rush to stop. Every sound you made — the soft sigh, the way you adjusted against him — seemed to fascinate him even more. He tilted his head, his lips brushing your temple lightly as he whispered, "That's it, love. Take as much as you need. You know I would never deny you anything."

Finally, when he realized you had fed enough, he gently pulled his wrist away, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "That's enough for now, my dear. You're strong, but you need balance," he said, his voice sounding like a mix of authority and affection.

Before you could protest, he raised his wrist and used his thumb to wipe the remnants of blood from the corner of your mouth. "So beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming your face with an intensity that was almost predatory. "Now... show me." He pressed his stained finger against your lips, a satisfied smile forming as you obeyed without hesitation, licking the traces as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Good girl," he said, the tone laden with pleasure as the smile on his lips widened, revealing his sharp fangs. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, as if he wanted to taste a bit of himself in you. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining with something almost dangerous. "You know I love this, don't you? This power... this submission. It's exactly where you belong."

You could barely find words, but he wasn't expecting any. He pulled you back into his arms, holding you against him as if he wanted the entire world to disappear. "Mine," he murmured, caressing your belly one last time. "My eternity. My perfection." And in that moment, you knew that, for him, nothing existed but you.

#james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter marauders #james fleamont potter fanfiction #james fleamont potter #james x you #james potter #james potter x reader #romance #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #atj #aaron taylor johnson #fanfiction #atj x reader #vampire!james potter #pregnant!reader #vampire

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starvu · 22 hours ago

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Crosswords and Cuddles || s. reid

where you and spencer spend some quiet and peaceful time together after he comes home from work

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader (if something doesn't seem right to gn, please let me know)

genre: pure fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1,8k

a/n: my second fanfiction, we're on the right track!! still sorry for my not so good english, i'm struggling not to repeat myself too much and use different adjectives, but i'm having a bit of trouble with that for now. anyway, i hope it won't bother you too much, have fun :))

You and Spencer loved spending time together and tried to spend as much time together as possible. Even though he spent most of his time working for the BAU on new cases and your job was demanding. That's why after two years of being together, you moved in together so you could share as many small, mundane moments together as possible.

Spending time together, you didn't even have to exchange much conversation. Your mutual presence was enough in most cases. The awareness of each other's warmth and care, a feeling that was clearly felt in the air, even if it was unspoken. You simply loved to accompany him in everything, and he loved having you around.

This evening was no different. Spencer didn't have any demanding cases this time. He could work with the team at Quantico. They didn't have to fly anywhere far, so he could come back to you every evening. You never knew when he would fly out again, so you were always happy when he could be home. Your peace was never certain. They could always have a new, demanding, brutal case that would cause him to disappear to the other side of the country, neglect sleep, drink more coffee than usual, and give no signs of life.

You were lying on the couch in your dark apartment. The apartment smelled of old books and coffee. This was the smell of your home now, it reminded you of the place you returned to and lived in. Your coats hung next to each other on the hangers in the hallway, your shoes were lined up neatly on the shelf, and your mugs were waiting in the kitchen cabinet. Your cup of coffee, which had way too much milk in it, stood on the dark brown, oak coffee table, accompanied by crosswords books, pens and scientific books from many fields from the library.

You two had brought those books by the kilos in canvas bags a few days ago. You couldn't even carry that many books from the library and you just made gooey eyes and a slightly bribing smile at the old lady librarian. This poor old woman, after so many of your visits, was already giving in to you. Spencer even tried to go above and beyond for you and just put some books away, but you fought for them. You were absolutely happy to have them in your bags, sitting on the subway, and riding home. Okay, actually you both were really excited to read all of these books.

You were wrapped in blankets, slightly sleepy the couch, even if the living room was lit with warm, not too bright light from a lamp. You had probably done everything, you had cooked dinner, you had read, you had done crosswords and looked up nonsense on your phone, you had even rearranged the books on the shelf, but not enough to disturb Spencer. You simply couldn't wait for him to finally come home, You yourself came back from work earlier than usual, so you waited a while, and the afternoon without him seemed so long.

As you were slowly dozing off with one eye, you heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of the door. You got up from the couch, still a little sleepy, but your expression brightened when you saw Spencer walking in front of the door. After he quickly hung his brown leather bag and navy coat on the rack and took off his sneakers, he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly, resting his chin on the top of your head, feeling at peace after the whole day. He finally breathed a sigh of relief as he felt your closeness and your familiar, calming scent.

"It's good to see you." He mumbled, adding nothing more. That was enough for you to understand how his day had gone. It had gone hard.

You smiled as you rested your head on his chest, you were glad he was finally around. You didn't ask about his day right away, you didn't want him to have to deal with it even at home, in his quiet place.

"It's good to see you too." You said quietly in a sleepy voice.

He recognized your sleepy, tired voice immediately, and he pulled away slightly but still held you close, running his fingers through your hair. “Did you sleep, sleepyhead?” He smiled warmly.

"Uh no, no. I was just waiting for you. Tired after a whole week of work, you know how it is."

He just nodded slightly in understanding, leaned down slightly and kissed your forehead. “Don’t overwork yourself, please.”

His concern always warmed your heart, you appreciated the care like nothing else, but it also worried you a little. It worried you that he always worried about you more than himself.

"You really shouldn't worry so much, I'm fine, Spence." You always repeated the same words, trying to reassure him and make him not worry so much, focus on something else, something less worrying.

He just sighed quietly in disapproval of your words. He knew perfectly well how you felt about his concern. He also knew that you were strong and could handle yourself perfectly well, and yet he wanted to make sure that everything was okay.

You quickly disappeared into the depths of the apartment, accessible, undemanding conversation, occasional laughter and the sound of forks clinking against plates filled the silence that had previously reigned throughout the apartment, only broken by the ticking of the clock in the living room.

Empty plates sat on the edge of the coffee table, even if it irritated Spencer in some way. Your coffee had long since gone cold, and you fidgeted a bit as you lay together on your completely too-small couch. That was the way you spent your time together without words. You were lying on opposite ends of the couch, buried under blankets, each of you with your own crossword puzzle and pen in hand, although sometimes you just preferred to glance up and watch Spencer concentrate, maybe stare a little. But that wasn't a bad thing, was it? Especially when he seemed oblivious to your actions. Sometimes you would nudge him in the ribs a little with your foot.

You really enjoyed these moments, sometimes when you relied on Spencer's intelligence and wanted to get a hint for your crossword, you had to pay a price for it, in the form of a quick kiss or a peck. You weren't even sure which of you preferred this way of rewarding for a hint more. In truth, Spencer always believed that if you put in the effort, you would find the answers to your questions yourself and that you were capable of more, but he didn't argue with you much. Instead, he would often start blabbing about the topics you asked about, telling you more about them, and you listened devotedly.

This time, however, Spencer noticed that you weren't very active on your crossword puzzle and paused his own for a moment. Well, you were just tired and your brain wasn't working at a very high level anymore.

"Hey, is something wrong, are you okay?" He asked with genuine concern and warmth in his voice. "You seem off."

You shook your head. "No, everything is still fine." But instead of staying on your end of the couch, you put the crosswords and pen on the table and, fidgeting a bit again, turned completely the other way. It's very possible that you'd crushed Spencer's side a bit with your leg in the meantime. Now your head was right on his shoulder, you were lying on the same side. He smiled slightly.

"Oh, you’re really clingy."

You just looked up, giving him a slightly exaggerated, scowl, even if you weren't mad at him for saying it. He raised his hand, letting you rest your head on his chest. He still held the crossword puzzle in one hand, the pen in the other, but he kept making sure you were comfortable. You felt at peace when you felt the warmth of his chest and the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. He felt the same way when it came to your closeness. He slowed down his pace of solving the puzzle, letting you answer the words you already knew the answer to.

He usually solved crosswords as fast as he could, beating his previous results, but this time it was about your peace. Even when both of his hands were occupied, he held you close and tight, kissing the top of your head with every clue you knew the answer to. And sometimes with a clue he knew the answer to. You suspected that he was just looking for an excuse to some extent, because he actually kissed the top of your head when you were thinking about the answer, or for no reason at all.

After solving a few more sheets, he put what he was holding on the table. He wrapped his arms around you and you didn't protest in any way, you let him. You knew that sleeping on this couch wasn't good for either of you, your backs and well-being, but everything indicated that this was where you would be sleeping. After a moment, he snuggled up to you even tighter, shifted slightly and put his head in the crook of your neck, placed a few lazy kisses there, drawing patterns on your back with his fingers. At that moment he was more laying on top of you with his whole body, but careful enough not to crush you and put his whole weight on you. With each situation like this you felt like you loved this man even more.

That didn't stop you from teasing him a little, referring to his previous comment. "Who's the clingy one now?" You smirked.

He raised his head slightly, staring at your face, even secretly admiring it, although he remembered every detail it hid, every mole, eyelash and freckle. He wanted to defend himself somehow from your words, but in the end he lowered his head and went back to holding it in the crook of your neck. "Okay, maybe I'm guilty." He admitted, but he didn't loosen his grip around you one bit.

"Yeah, you are."

"Is it bad?"

"No." You even replied a little quieter than usual.

It wasn't a bad thing, you loved his clingy moments. You slowly raised your hand to run your fingers through his messy, slightly overgrown hair. He didn't have to ask for it, you knew it would ease his tiredness after the whole day and he would fall asleep faster without the agony he often had before going to sleep. Somehow you felt his growing calmness and sense of security as you made all these little gestures.

#criminal minds fic #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #gublernation

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mattsfavouritewhore · 1 day ago

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Why Her Part 3 - Matthew Sturniolo

a/n: I am so sorry it has taken me so long. But i'm back now and I hope you guys enjoy. ALSO TAKING REQUESTS!!!

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, arguing

Summary: Did matt get rid of his gf for you?

PART 2: why her part 2

PART 1: why her

A month had gone past.. you hadn't heard from matt once. Once matt left your place that day, you had filled nick in on everything and he said he'd keep an eye out for you and report back about everything he heard and saw. Nothing had come up from nick besides from a few messages saying he stayed in his room and that she hadn't been over.

But today, your phone pinged...

Nick: Im so sorry y/n.

Your heart dropped... you knew exactly what that meant. She was over. He had chosen her over you. Anger. Tears threaten to spill out of anger. You felt stupid. Stupid for having hope. Stupid for thinking you were more than pussy to fuck. Thinking that he actually wanted you.

You didn't respond to Nick's message.

A week past and you were trying your best to move on. The gym became your second home, and your friends kept you busy with outings and events, hoping to distract you from the mess Matt left behind. Still, every once in a while, you'd catch yourself scrolling through social media, seeing updates of Matt and Maria. Each picture felt like a knife in your chest, a reminder of what could’ve been.

But one evening, after a particularly grueling workout, you got another ping from Nick.

Nick: You might want to come over. You: Why? Nick: Matt broke up with her.

You froze. Your heart raced as a million thoughts filled your head. Was this real? Why now? What did he want? You typed back hesitantly.

You: And what does that have to do with me? Nick: Just come over. He won’t stop talking about you.

Against your better judgment, you threw on a hoodie and leggings, grabbed your keys, and headed to Nick’s place. The drive felt endless, and by the time you arrived, your palms were sweating. You knocked on the door, and Nick greeted you with a small smile.

"He's upstairs," Nick said, stepping aside to let you in.

You hesitated. "What exactly am I walking into?"

Nick shrugged. "A mess, probably. But I think you’ll want to hear what he has to say."

You sighed and made your way upstairs, each step heavier than the last. When you reached the door to Matt's room, you paused. The muffled sound of music played from inside, and you could hear faint shuffling. You knocked lightly.

“Come in,” Matt’s voice called out.

You opened the door to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, and the sight of his red, puffy eyes took you by surprise.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice hoarse.

"Hey," you replied, staying by the door. "Nick said you wanted to talk."

He nodded, standing up and taking a step closer to you. “I broke up with Maria.”

"I heard." You crossed your arms, trying to keep your cool. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I realized I was being an idiot," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared. Scared of ruining what we had, scared that I’d mess things up between us. But being with her made me see how much I don’t want anyone else. It’s you. It’s always been you."

Your heart clenched, but you didn’t let your guard down. "It took you this long to figure that out? After everything?"

"I know I hurt you," he said, stepping closer. "And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. But I need you to know that I’m done running. I’m done hiding how I feel."

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. "How do I know this isn’t just another phase? That you won’t change your mind again?"

He reached out, gently taking your hands in his. "Because I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I don’t want to be without you. Not for another second."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in. For the first time, they felt real. Genuine. "Matt..."

He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled over. "Just say the word, and I’m yours. No more games, no more distractions. Just us."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity. Slowly, you nodded.

"You had a month.. you left me, no words, for a month... and then i find out you picked her over me." you whispered.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "I’m not going to mess this up again. I promise."

You believed him. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could finally breathe.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

"Okay."

You stood there, his hands still cradling your face, his breath mingling with yours. The tension was unbearable, and before either of you could think twice, his lips crashed against yours. It wasn’t gentle or tentative—it was desperate, like he’d been starving for this moment. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer, his grip firm but careful.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and hoarse.

"Don’t you dare," you replied breathlessly.

That was all he needed. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping tightly as he backed you toward the bed. You let him guide you, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he lifted you effortlessly, laying you down and crawling over you, his body pressing into yours in a way that made your pulse race.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck, where he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, drawing soft gasps from you. Your hands roamed his back, slipping beneath his hoodie to feel the warmth of his skin. He sat up just long enough to yank the hoodie off, revealing his toned chest, and you couldn’t help but run your hands over him, marveling at the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, leaning back down to kiss you again, his lips hot and urgent.

"Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He didn’t need further encouragement. His hands found the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it aside. His lips trailed down your collarbone, and his hands slid behind your back to unclasp your bra, his movements practiced yet filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

As the fabric fell away, his lips found your bare skin, his tongue flicking over a hardened peak, drawing a moan from your lips. His hands wandered lower, toying with the waistband of your leggings. He looked up at you, his dark eyes searching yours for permission.

"Please," you whispered, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric down.

He discarded the leggings and your panties in one swift motion, his gaze raking over your exposed body. "You’re perfect," he said, his voice filled with awe, before leaning down to kiss a trail from your navel to your inner thighs.

His lips found your core, and the first touch of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you. He worked you expertly, his tongue circling and flicking, his lips sucking gently, drawing moan after moan from you as your hands fisted the sheets beneath you.

"Matt, oh my god," you gasped, your hips bucking against his mouth as he held you firmly in place. The coil in your stomach tightened with every movement, and it wasn’t long before you were teetering on the edge.

"Let go," he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your core. The sensation sent you over the edge, your body arching as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your cries filling the room.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips meeting yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. As he settled between your legs, you reached for the button of his jeans, fumbling in your haste to undo them.

"Slow down," he said with a soft chuckle, his voice husky as he helped you remove the last barrier between you. He rolled on a condom quickly, his gaze locked on yours as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you breathed, pulling him closer.

He pushed into you slowly, both of you gasping as he filled you completely. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, before he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending a shiver through your body.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Your nails raked down his back as you wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper. The pace quickened, the sound of skin against skin mixing with your breathless moans and his guttural groans. The tension built again, the pressure mounting until it was almost unbearable.

"I’m close," you gasped, your head falling back against the pillows.

"Me too," he panted, his movements growing erratic.

With one final thrust, the two of you came undone together, your bodies trembling as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you both caught your breath.

For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence filled only with the sound of your breathing. But when he finally spoke, his voice was soft and filled with certainty.

"I’m not going anywhere," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

A/N: this will probs be the last part unless someone comes up with a good plot (open to suggestions of all kinds)

LMKK WHAT YOU GUYS THINKKK

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt x reader #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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deesseshesca · 2 days ago

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PAC:LETTER FROM PREGNANT SELF (HIS POV) 18+

PILE 1

It would not surprise me if your baby father was in an extremely abusive relationship with his ex. May have other kids before he meets you (only for 50% of people reading this). You may be an sex worker. If you are a stripper, you meet that person at work and actually become each other's safe place. Only for them, the rest of y’all, there was a natural development of the relationship and unfolding of each other's life.

My (flower name (if you have a fav flower he might call u that in his language OR is your stage name)

I could spend a lifetime showing my devotion to you. To say we found love in a hopeless place is such a short statement of reality. I want to apologize for all the rough ways I dealt with you. You know I became so passive with life that pouring any kind of emotion was an expensive action. I spent years trying to make it work with my ex and honestly I would rather not talk about it but since this damm (watch your words…) girl keeps trying to pull on my energy here I am. I hate talking about her, you think it is because it hurts. Sure it does, I should have never been treated that way, should have never been ridiculed and humiliated. I should have never been yelled at because of my opinions or even beat on just because I was not providing something tailor to miss extremely complicated taste. Let’s fucking face it, what have I not gave. What can a 7 figure salary can’t fucking give you ! Nothing was never good enough. I should have understood the mind game she played but before I knew it I was hooked on the devil with no prenup and the idea of puppy love we had since high school. Every time it became too much, I would come see you dance. The way you move your body to the music is so enticing, I know it’s y’all job but you felt like it was your calling. I am not saying that you are nothing but a damm stripper, no please don’t take it like that. See that’s exactly why I did not want to talk to this (watch your mouth …) tarot reader because I am not good with my words. I hate the fact that I dedicate more time to STEM classes and work meetings. I dedicate more time to academic excellence and make sure to always more than admirable professional performance thinking I would never need to use art classes a day in my life. Here I am … Words failed me because I never took the time to appreciate the things surrendering me. Always so eager to gain new things and more knowledge. You were the first in my life, I truly allow myself to be appreciated. On the stage you own it, not like you are dancing for a couple dolla bills. Almost as if you don’t give a fuck weather men are there to spend or nah. You came to bask in your power. The first time you approached me, I could not help being rude. Now I can assure it is because I was mad, I knew you were approaching me to secure your bag. I wanted more, I wanted to matter to you as much as you matter to me. You left the first meeting with a stink face and you would have probably never dealt with me, if I never ordered that VIP room. Always came with more money each time. Taking more money from my wife's allowance to let it rain on you. It was my sweet revenge. Each time you never let go, like you use on stage. Guess you were not fond of me which confirms to me that it was not for the money. That also shows the amount of self respect you had for yourself in an industry that prides itself on destroying mental health in the name of a couple Benjamin. Then one day I ask you to sit down, apologize for the way I was treating you. Instead of making it rain, I put the money in your hands and ask you for a chat. Your face shows no judgment but instead mercy. You did not pride yourself on a broken man and I stop seeing you as only my distraction. The VIP with no dancing, bringing you back home after spending long hours at work, then finally following you at your apartment finishing the night with some intense love making. It was fun not being objectified for once in the bedroom. My wife likes to find pride in my beautiful big dick … I guess I only matter that way.

There's more ....

#tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #divination #18+ tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #intuitive messages #intuitive guidance #intuition #divine timing #divine guidance

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 1 day ago

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A Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots, Collated

(TW: Maggots, gore, torture. 18k words, read it below the cut or in the Google doc. It's my first completed novella hehe <3 Enjoy!)

The corpse dangled limply, swinging in the wind. The chains attached to its wrists jangle like chimes, creating a melody more off-tune than haunting.

The corpse was beautiful, once, with long eyelashes and a gleaming smile, gorgeous enough to charm sirens. But no amount of smiling could hide the stick-thin limbs, encrusted with bodily fluids, or the gaping sockets where a pair of eyeballs once rested.

The corpse died of starvation, that much was obvious. It had struggled long and hard to be free, judging from the livid marks along its wrists. Every bone was prominent under its bruised and raw skin. Dried blood stained the rags it wore, barely enough to cover what little dignity it had.

Its ribs were opened up like a butterfly, baring shrivelled organs and guts. I could only hope that it had been post-mortem. Maggots had infested themselves in its cavities, worming and squirming with glee, a veritable mass of white amidst the red. The sight was enough to make any man heave.

“What's the verdict, Doc?” Athena was cheerful as ever, either not caring or pretending not to care about the gore before us. “Who dunnit to this poor man?”

I shook my head. My guts curdled at the way she prodded a chunk of squirming flesh fearlessly. “Someone starved him to death, then chopped him up like that. He must have been left in a cell until he died, or else he wouldn't be stained all over. This entire scene's at least a day old, too, or else maggots wouldn't have shown up like that,” I explained. “Damn, but I just can't think of a monster that would've done this.”

“It wasn't a monster,” Mrin replied, her voice harsh. “No monster would be that wasteful. A human had to have locked him up, guarded the cell so no monster would eat him, then maimed him afterwards.” Her one good eye narrowed.

Athena grimaced. “Cultists,” she concluded.

“Yep.” I folded my arms. “They're back at it. I could have sworn we'd driven them away the first four times.”

She shrugged. “They're worse than maggots. Let one live, and soon you'll have twenty swarming your home and setting you on fire for their rituals.” She broke into a grin. “Guess we've got to break out the weapons and go cultist-hunting again, eh?”

“No,” Mrin said suddenly. She had been examining the corpse's wrists. “This isn't a cultist issue. Come here and see.”

“How'd you figure?” I came closer and took a good long look at where she pointed. “I don't see anything.”

“Doc,” Athena said, suddenly bored. She stood behind me, crowding us in. “Who the hell cares? The cultists are probably back by now. Let's go kill them some more.”

“Hunting, killing, hunting. Is that all you ever think of doing?” I rounded on her. Call me immature, but that flippancy of hers was wearing on me. “There's a dead man there. Whether or not it is the cultists, we need to investigate and avenge him. And that means properly working out what's going on. Isn't that what you'd want someone to do for you?”

“If I'm dead, I wouldn't care what you did. Eat me, string me up by the innards, fuck my dead corpse, it's all the same to me.” She paused, and a shimmer of old anger passed over her features. “But cultist hunting is always a good idea.”

“You're like an animal, you know that? Oh, so the cultists hurt you. Boo-fucking-hoo. You can't spend the rest of your life mindlessly chasing vengeance. You're right. The cultists will always be there. So stop worrying about them, and start worrying about this new threat, because we can get rid of that. Or are you too desperate to meet your old friends again?”

Athena froze, and I saw rage flash across her features. It was dangerous to provoke her, to rip her mask off and reveal the ugly wounds that festered within. I did it anyway, because it was the only way to get her to listen. “Shut up, Doc,” she hissed, earlier cheer evaporated. “Don't you dare talk like that.”

“Stop that, both of you. The cultists remain a threat to us all. If we don't stop them, they'll eventually become a threat to us again,” Mrin snapped, forcing herself between us. “But we are perfectly capable of keeping an eye out for this new danger while finding their new hideout.”

Brett, who had been uncharacteristically silent, piped up. “Yeah, guys. Please don't fight.” He shifted himself to stand closer to Athena, pressing himself to her scrawny frame. “Things are bad enough without us turning on each other.”

Wrapped around his finger as she was, she acquiesced, settling against him. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Go on, Mrin: How did you work out it ain't the cultists?”

Mrin picked up the corpse's floppy wrist. “Look at this tattoo,” she said, gesturing to the familiar mark that stood out amongst bruises. “The sigil of The One That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh.”

“A signifier of high ranking amongst the cultists.” I thought through the implications of it. “This was either an inside job or someone who hates cultists, then.”

“If it's the latter, I say we let them get to it,” Athena told me brusquely. “Maybe even find ‘em and help out.”

“We'll see what happens,” I said. The thought of siding with anything cruel enough to torture a man, even a cultist man, made my stomach churn. “Come on. I don't think there's anything left to do.”

And so our little spat ended just like all the others, full of unresolvable threats and lingering anger. It simmered under the surface as we gathered rusting cans of food from a stash, when I jostled her arm as we ate dinner, while we lay in bed, silent and seething.

I stared at the cracked ceiling blankly, watching the flickering light overhead. When had I last seen natural light? This place was all concrete and grime, endless electricity fuelling my living hell of insomnia and nightmares.

Mrin was hardly faring any better. Her bedroll was empty, as it often was, for she often meandered her nights away, futilely seeking an escape. Were I younger, I would have followed her, and joined her in that pathetic hunt for freedom. But that was the folly of youth, a folly neither Brett nor Athena had inherited.

They slept curled up in a little ball, snuggled up beside each other. I would never admit it, but I envied their love for each other, the companionship I dared not seek. I watched them silently, arms propping me up, heart heavy.

"They're gonna die here, you know," Mrin said. "They'll die young and in love, without having ever seen the light of day again. They'll die here, and we'll die here, and the cultists will die here. Nobody's winning this game."

"I know," I whispered back. "Aren't you gonna go on your nightly walk?"

"It's pointless. It's always been pointless. It'll always be pointless."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

“I hate this place,” she continued. “I hate it so much.”

“You're repeating yourself,” I told her. “And stop standing behind me. It creeps me out.”

Mrin sat heavily beside me. From the narrow slant of her eye, I could tell I wasn't calming her down. Her fingers scratched at the tiled ground, as though she could dig herself out through sheer stubbornness.

“Why doesn't it get to you? The- the claustrophobia, the constant hunting, the cold canned food? Where do those damn cans come from? Where do the cultists come from? Are they even human? Are we?” Her voice had risen in pitch with each question, until she was more shrieking than speaking.

“You'll wake Athena and Brett.” And it did get to me. I sat up and looked away from her.

“Damn it, answer my question! Why. Don't. You. Care?!” She grabbed the lapels of my tattered old coat, and pulled me to face her.

I didn't want to answer that question. “You know how long I've been here?”

“I know you've been here longer than the rest of us. And you're still dodging me,” she demanded.

“I stopped counting at 15 years. I was a kid when I woke up in this hell, fresh out of med school. Now look at me,” I said, forcing the words out. We must've woken the kids up, but I didn't want to check. I didn't want to picture them like me, old and haggard and unable to remember anything more than these off-white walls. “Believe me, Mrin, when I say I do care. I just wish I didn't.”

She looked into my eyes, praying it was another lie, another tale told to get her off my back. Finally, she said, “I believe you.” And it made me regret ever opening my mouth.

All I could do was reach out and grip her shoulder, rubbing it gently. All she could do was fall into my arms, and weep silently. We held each other as her tears stained my clothes. After a moment, I felt another pair of arms wrap themselves around us. Brett had joined in, gripping us like a child would his teddy bear.

“Athena?” I looked up to see her staring at us from a distance. Reflected in her eyes was a coldness that surpassed mine, a coldness that burned like a thousand cultists on a pyre. “You gonna join us?” I held one arm out, reaching to her, begging her to come complete our huddle.

Those dark eyes hardened even further. She turned and walked away.

Should I have run after her? Would it have changed anything? Damned if I knew. Perhaps the rot in her heart had begun long ago, when the cultists chained her in that dark room and did things to her. Perhaps the very first maggot had wriggled in far earlier, when she first wandered into this place. Perhaps it had always been there, a foul seed biding its time, myiasis waiting for the most fertile soil to sprout into a choking weed.

All I knew was that by the time we had drifted to sleep in that little huddle, she was long gone, toting that makeshift spear of hers into the flickering light that passed for night.

“Doc?” Brett shook my shoulder with the dogged determination of a boy who had finally noticed his girl was missing. “Doc, get up. Doc?” He might as well have passed for a particularly large alarm clock.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘thena ran off,” I muttered, more to shut him up than out of any true caring. “She’ll be fine. That girl can smash her way through an army of man-sized cockroaches, she'll be fine. Besides, she runs off all the time. She took her spear, didn't she?”

“Sure she took her spear, but that's not enough! You have to get up. We have to go find her. I know something's wrong,” he insisted. “I just know it!”

That got me grudgingly getting up. Brett's instincts were never off, and it had saved us from trouble more than once. “Fine, fine. What's the trouble?”

“It's…” He frowned, trying to put it into words. His fingers, long and knobby, kneaded each other nervously. “It's dread, panic, terror. It's being in utter darkness, being left at the checkout counter while your mom goes off and grabs something she forgot, being stuck with your leg in a bear trap and the hunter approaching. It's bad.” The last word made my lips pucker with sourness.

Bad. God, how much that word could sum up. I rolled up my sheet and waved Mrin over. “We need to look for Athena,” I told her. “Brett had another premonition, and he says it's bad.”

“Yeah, well, I've got more bad news,” Mrin replied. “We’re out of food.”

“What? That's ridiculous, we had 10 cans last night,” Brett protested.

“I'll bet your girlfriend took it. Who else could it have been? That damned girl is all instinct and no intellect.” I shook my head in disgust.

He glared at me, but did not dispute my conclusion. “We should hurry up and find her, then.”

With that, we were up and at it again. Brett, our resident packmule, carried the waterskins and our four bedrolls. I had our pathetically small kit of iodine and gauze, and Mrin held on to the only other true weapon we owned: a honest-to-goodness cavalry sabre. It wasn't ideal, but anything was better than the vaguely sharp rock-knives Brett and I carried.

We trekked through hallway after hallway, heading for the corner that the cultists called home. Down an elevator shaft we went, through the hallway that no sane human could have designed, up and over a random waist length wall that existed for no reason beyond making my life troublesome.

Even as time stretched on, nothing passed between us. On a normal day, I might have bantered with Mrin, or pitched in as she and Athena bickered. We might have passed around a protein bar, or took turns trying to snatch a flying ant out of the air. We might have done anything to ward off the oppressive misery, and whiled away another hopeless day.

But without a quarter of our crew, I didn't have it in me to get the festivities started.

Brett, however, did have it in him to crack the ice that had built up between us. “Hey, Doc?" His voice was light as the contents of our stomachs.

"Yeah, kiddo?" I didn't turn around, didn't look into those nervous, haunted eyes.

"Everything will be alright, right?" He sounded like Mrin, praying that good ol' Doc would reassure him that everything would be a-okay.

I thought of Athena's eyes boring into mine, the two of us knowing better. I thought of Mrin's hopeless weeping that night, when she finally accepted that we would die in this endless nightmare. I thought of that bright little spark in Brett's heart being put out, as all beautiful things eventually were. And curse me, but I didn't want to be the one to do it. I didn't want to be responsible for being the one to sully his light.

"Yeah," I lied. "We'll find 'thena, and we'll find some more cans of tuna or something, and then we'll all go cultist hunting."

There was a long pause, as though Brett didn't truly believe me. It stretched and slithered and snuck into my chest, where it rested like a stone beside despair.

My joints hurt. My head hurt. My heart hurt. I didn't want to do this. My own thoughts had joined Brett's in whispering horrors to me, warning me that whatever lay in the near future would not be pleasant.

We were at the border to the cultists' territory when Mrin stopped us. “Athena was here,” she told us. “Look at the markings on the wall.”

Indeed, there were nasty little marks on the off-white walls, in the shape of rather inappropriate and anatomical figures. The only person who would have the immaturity to do such a thing, as well as the guts to do it in the heart of the cultists' lair, would be that damned girl.

I sighed. “Of course it's her. Who else would draw dicks on the walls of hell?” I shook my head. “Fool child. Do you have any idea how long ago she passed through here?” For all that she had one eye, Mrin's sight served her better than the rest of ours combined. If anyone could figure it out, it would be her.

“What am I, your blood hound? I can't tell-” she stopped and took a closer look at the markings. “Oh. She was here not long ago. Look, the ink on the wall hasn't dried yet.”

“Oh, thank the heavens! We might be able to catch her if we hurry,” Brett exclaimed. “Come on, come on! We've gotta get to her before something else does.” His breath hitched, and that sunny smile of his cracked. “If- if ‘thena got hurt, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself!”

Ah, the follies and passions of youth. I shook my head and gave Mrin my signature grin, the one we used to exchange two years ago, back when it was the two of us and she had two eyes. She returned it, hesitantly, showing off yellowing, chipped teeth.

Before anything could pass between us, Brett put his hands on our shoulders and pushed, sending me careening down the hall. “Hurry up,” he demanded. There was a wildness in his eyes, like an animal being chased down. “There's not much time left.”

Mrin sighed. “There's never any time, Brett. I know you're worried about her, but we can't afford to rush in. The cultists are dangerous, and if we get caught unprepared, we'll be unable to save ourselves, let alone Athena.”

I nodded in agreement. “Besides, we don't even know where she's gone. Sure, she's here, but here can be in the congregation hall of the cultists or in some random corner, and we need time to work out which exactly it is.”

He held that look of cornered terror for a moment longer, begging us to change our minds. Then he gave up and nodded. “Alright. I take it we're scouting the lair first? Knowing her, that's where she'll be.”

“Yeah, sure.” I started forward again, keeping up with Brett as we made our way towards the home of the greatest monsters in our little hell.

Not that there weren't other monsters there too. Monsters with tentacles and spikes, like the one that gave me a long, barely healed gouge along my upper arm. Monsters like a man with too many limbs, sitting in the dark hiding their extra hands behind their backs and beckoning us to come in such that they might dine on our flesh. Monsters that were nothing more than a glitch, that ruined everything they touched.

Bad enough that they took our flesh, sucked the marrow out of our bones. Worse still, that they took our lives. But what made this place hell, instead of merely dangerous, was that it took our soul. This place had killed the love in my heart and stomped on its shattered bits, just like we had a dozen cultists.

Those cultists were human once, just like us. For all of their cruelties and insanities, that meant they were human when we killed them. Which made us, all four of us, murderers. I looked at Brett, urging us forward like an overeager puppy. He didn't look like a murderer.

If there was anyone I wished I could rescue from this hell, it was him. Athena had her rage and bloodlust. Mrin had her eagle-eye and sudden breakdowns. I had my age, my apathy. He was the only untainted one, the one who shone like the sun, with his dirty blonde hair and sky-blue eyes straight out of a movie.

I… I hated him so much at that moment. It wasn't fair that he could live in this neverending nightmare and still smile like that. His girlfriend was an axe-crazy psycho, his daily life involved scrounging for rusty cans of food and drinking water from leaky pipes, and yet! Yet despite it all he managed to love, to trust, to care with such a passion that it sparked my rage. I was jealous, so very jealous of him.

“The lair's up ahead,” Mrin said suddenly, jerking me out of my thoughts. “I see silhouettes of people.” She paused. “Cultists, I mean. Not people.”

I stepped closer, hiding behind a pillar. Things that could be charitably construed as human twirled in dizzying circles around an altar. “A ritual of some kind,” I whispered to the others. “But for what?”

My question was answered soon enough, and I wish it hadn't. Two masked cultists, heavily muscled and scarred, bore a struggling, furious girl up towards the altar. Despite the ropes holding her wrists and ankles together, she hissed and sputtered like a wildcat, struggling as hard as she could. They hadn't chosen her carriers carelessly, I noted. Anything less than the strongest of bonds and bearers, and that girl would have clawed her way free.

“Athena!” Brett made a move to dash into the rows of dancers, only to be stopped by my outstretched arm.

“Don't be a fool, kid. If you run into a circle of cultists, you'll just get killed along with your dearest Athena. Is that what you really want?”

The glare he gave me could have belonged to a petulant teenager, if not for the undercurrent of terror. “But-”

“Hush, both of you, or we'll all be found.” Mrin, always sensible.

Their high priestess, decked in layer after layer of tattered robes walked up before Athena, bearing a ceremonial dagger. “Feral child,” she began in a voice like the buzzing of a thousand flies. “You have cost us the life of a Precious One, of our Honoured Sacrifice, He Who Would Bring About The Birth Of Our God. For that, you will pay with a thousand years of agony.”

“Cost them the life of their sacrifice? What the hell are they talking about? Athena-” It clicked, and I closed my mouth. “The hanged man. That- that was her. That's why she didn't care. That's why she tried to distract me when we found the tattoo. She knew, this whole time.”

“But that would mean that she had starved, beaten and killed him in cold blood,” Brett protested. “Athena would never-”

“Athena would. You know that. You know that better than the rest of us, Brett,” Mrin replied. “That doesn't change anything. We've got to save her anyways. She's one of us.”

“Like hell this changes nothing,” I snapped. “She tortured a man! In cold blood! Do you not see why I don't want to rescue the bloody berserker who tortures people?!”

“Shut. Up.” Brett, of all people, had said that. He glared at me, knuckles white with rage. “Don't you act like such a hypocrite. You would have left that man in there no problem. Don't pretend that you weren't the one to convince us all to cull the cultists the first time. You wanted us to leave Athena behind, right from the beginning. What is your problem?”

It was a miracle that nobody had noticed us. Somewhere in the background, the cultists began chanting, a deep sound like a boar stirring from dirt, like drums beat to the rhythm of war. “I did what I had to to survive. If that meant leaving someone for dead? Yeah, sure. I'll admit to that. But this is just viciousness! She did this out of malice. She is evil, Brett. That's what evil looks like.”

“No, evil is acting like fear and anger make you a monster. Evil is knowing better, and doing worse. You're evil,” Brett said, shoving me away from him. Mrin caught me, her face turned away to watch the cultists. “And I'm saving her, no thanks to you.”

He stomped off angrily. “Now look what you've done,” she murmured. “Oh, I can see this ending badly.”

I glared at her. “Don't jinx us,” I replied. “Who knows? Maybe the kid will pull her out of it. He's done greater miracles, after all.”

Her silence told me she saw through the lie.

“And so-” The priestess' voice drew my attention back, ringing with ugly power. We had missed… something. It felt important. If only I knew what it was. “Do you have any last words?”

We all turned to Athena, us and the cultists and whatever gods there might be. A thousand eyes stared up at the tiny girl bound up, on her knees atop the altar, her gag released so she could say one last thing.

And true to her nature, she hawked a great gob of saliva and spat at the priestess' face. “Go fuck yourself,” Athena proclaimed, chin raised defiantly.

“So be it,” the priestess replied, and gestured to a servant. We'd wasted too much time bickering, I realised. Too much time. Perhaps Brett had been right, after all. Not that my admitting it couldn't do anything.

Perhaps- Perhaps Brett could save her. He was strong, and fast, and- Oh, if only I'd gone with him. If only I had looked past my petty grievances earlier. I really was always too late to save anyone, was I? Right from the very first time someone had died on me, I should have known. I was no Doc. I was a failure.

But I had to hope. I had to hope that Brett could right my wrong. I had to hope, even as the priestess took her ceremonial dagger from an awed worshipper, even as she raised it with a black-toothed smile, even as-

Commotion on the other side of the cultists told me Brett had been intercepted, that he didn't make it, that our one chance to save her had failed. The priestess raised her dagger. Its light glinted like a sudden glimpse of the sun across the horizon. Athena screamed bloody murder, curses and obscenities and the murderous rage that lay in her heart. I screamed too, and reached out. Mrin let out a gasp.

And that was it.

It was a sudden limpness, a voice cut short, a flicker of false sun dashed by blood. The priestess raised a triumphant, gorey hand and grinned right at me. “So it is done,” she announced. “The sacrifice has been made. She has been summoned. Welcome, our Lady That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh!”

Something bubbled out of Athena's chest, something grey-white and squirming. Her body jerked upright, cracking its neck with a sickening twist, shoulders jerking like a prop from a bad zombie movie. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal two eyeballs quickly overwhelmed with crawling things.

Mrin let out a gasp beside me. “Maggots,” she whispered. “We have to get Brett and run.”

This time, I didn't protest. My foolishness had cost us enough. Between the pillars and our running, I caught only glimpses of the thing wearing Athena's body. It stretched lasciviously, throwing uneven arms back and grinning ear to ear, quite literally. The foul worms that made up her flesh multiplied, spreading and growing like a miasma, until she was the height of two men.

The Lurker, or whatever I was to call this abomination, was beautiful like a statue, all elegant and evocative and ethereal, if statues writhed and crawled upon itself and wore a smile that split its face ear to ear. It looked nothing like the girl I knew. And it was gazing down at where I knew Brett to be.

“Shit,” Mrin snarled, forcing us both to a halt behind a crumbling wall. “They're blocking us.”

Indeed, there were hundreds of cultists standing around her, watching their goddess in blind ecstasy. A few had their hooks in Brett, baring him before her like her very first sacrifice.

I wanted to scream, to beg him to cut loose and run, but Brett stood there steadily, light ringing his golden hair like an angel's halo.

Athena, or the thing wearing her face, grabbed his wrists, claws the size of knives digging into the open wounds. “Brett,” she cooed, swaying with delight. “You came looking for me.” The maggots churned and coursed, making her facade of a woman ripple.

He nodded unsteadily. “'thena, I know this isn't you, alright? Snap out of it,” he said, not a trace of fear in his voice. “We're here for you, me and Doc and Mrin. I'm here for you. We believe in you.”

He took in a deep breath. “I love you, Athena. So come back to us, okay?”

For a moment, she froze. I thought- I hoped, against all hope, that it had worked, that the power of love would triumph.

Then that horrible mass of writhing rot grinned. “How cute. How darling. Why, I could just eat you up, dearie,” she exclaimed.

And she did, her swarm bending down towards his face. Brett's scream was cut off abruptly as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeper than the real Athena ever had. He squirmed in her grip as wave after wave of larvae poured down his throat, gnawing and gulping down his innards. I caught flashes of red as he was engulfed, each quickly overwhelmed by the swarm.

It was too much, just too much, and I bent over, heaving sour bile onto the floor. It tasted like Brett's screams, wet and sour and horrified.

I would have sat there retching my wretched lunchless guts out until she found me, had Mrin not dragged me back. She might have been smaller than me by a half, but she made up for it with her sheer persistence.

“Doc, don't do this. We need to get out of here, and we need to do it now.” Her voice, normally so calm, was tinged with panic. “Come on, be a dear. Get up. Keep moving.”

I lurched along with her, leaning on her shoulder, leaving behind the two people who had been a staple of our lives.

“They're gone,” I whispered, when we were just beyond that vile cathedral. “Both of them. And it's all my fault. I let them die. Oh god, Brett was right. I am a monster.” My legs felt weak.

“No, you're not. You're a fool man, like most men, and I'm a fool woman, like most too, and we need to get out of here before we become dead fools. Now, don't stop. Keep moving. One leg after another. That's right, Doc. We'll work out what to do afterwards,” she coaxed, not a hint of the frightened woman I'd seen just a day before lurking beneath the surface.

“How can you be so calm? They're dead! I might as well have killed them myself. Oh god, I'm a monster. It should have been me, not them. They're just kids, and I was so harsh. This is all my fault.” The words kept on spilling out of my mouth, circling like vultures above a battlefield.

Mrin slapped me. Hard.

“Move, for fuck's sake. Or else we'll be dead too, and you'll have to answer to whatever cruel deity is up there. You're too old and I'm too mean and we’re too stubborn for it all to end here, so let's fucking go!” Tears rimmed her eyes, glistening like reflections of a half-forgotten summer day. I reached out to wipe them away, and she swatted my hand. “I don't want to die, Doc. Come on, get up. Get up. Get up!”

I did, stumbling to my feet, the taste of hunger and phantom flesh spurring me on like a whip to my hide. Her fingers were locked with mine as we ran. It didn't matter where we went. We just had to go away. Get away from it all, go back to the fields of green and a lover's arms, dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, a memory faded like the details on your grandmother's photo.

I missed reality. Oh, how I missed it. This was a bad dream, a bad dream so long and visceral that it had eclipsed awakening like Not-Athena looming over the flickering lamps. I stumbled forwards through the haygrass, my knees aching from running all day. The sun, just beginning its golden descent, laughed at my pathetic fleeing. The wind, thick with pollen, whipped at my over-long hair.

Where was I running from? I remembered concrete, grey, endless running and hiding. Dark eyes, distrustful and hurt, boring into mine. A golden smile, brighter than the sun that shone in my eyes. A scarred woman with a sharp eye and businesslike mannerisms, breaking down before my eyes.

And something worse. Something so bad I had forgotten. I caught myself against a scarecrow, rough sackcloth and woodgrains bringing a tear to my eyes. I wanted to stop, to rest, but that something pushed me forward. Come on, get up, it urged. Get up. Get up!

The words echoed in my brain, bouncing about like the sting of a slap and the ache of my bones. Why did my cheek sting? Better yet, why did my bones ache? I was still spritely, young-

Old. I was old. Yes, that was it. How could I have forgotten? Mrin was just ahead of me, torn between fleeing and keeping me with her. Athena was possessed, probably dead. And Brett- Oh, gods, Brett!

I shook my head roughly. Why was I crying? I had to move. Keep moving, stop thinking about- whatever it was I remembered.

I didn't want to dwell on the past. I never did, as an ambitious young man. Better to look to the bright future. It was time to retire, wasn't it? Yes, I could leave the big city, move back out to the old cottage Granny Bella left me, make a home with my love-

My love. Something about that struck me. I didn't have a love. I'd dedicated my life to work, hadn't I?

But I did. And she was right in front of me. In a blaze of fire and scarecrows and memories that weren't, I burst forth from my dream and back into my nightmare.

With a gasp, I sped up and grabbed Mrin's arm. It was warm, familiar, and utterly paled in comparison compared to that feverish moment. When I took a moment to regather my senses, I realised I knew this corridor. Even better, I remembered hiding in this corner, an eternity ago, when I rescued a two-eyed Mrin from monstrous things. “To the left!”

Without responding, Mrin turned with me and we crawled into the little tunnel where my safe room lay. It was hardly more than a crack in the walls, and my body protested as I shoved myself in. For a moment I was afraid we would not both fit, for even I alone was a snug fit. But Mrin pulled herself in behind me, squeezing herself until we hardly had room to breathe.

The two of us hardly dared to watch as the ground's rumbling grew louder, beating like war drums with the feet of a hundred cultists. They were out to get us, I thought, and prayed that they would not find us.

The cultists drew closer, and I realised their movements were disorganised, frantic, terrified. They weren't hunting us. They weren't chasing. They were fleeing.

Fleeing what? I knew the answer as soon as I thought of the question.

Athena. Or to be specific, Not-Athena. She- It had turned on its summoners. I wiggled closer to the corners of our hidey-hole and clung to Mrin closer. “That thing's going to notice us,” I whispered in her ear.

She nodded. “Not if we stop breathing. That thing hunts through the sound of its prey. Hold on to me. Hold on tight, and hold your breath. I'll get us out of here.” There was something cold in her voice, like she was recalling a thousand-year-old memory and found it distasteful. “Just remember: Don't give in to it.”

She hushed my protests and began murmuring under her breath, a slow, steady chant whose cadence reminded me of the cultist priestess's ritual. It stole my breath away, quieted me like a pillow pressed against a sleeping man's face. For a moment, I felt my soul scrabble for breath, drowning in her words. But it was only a moment, and like all moments, it passed.

I breathed through my nose, curled up as far from the Something that swarmed above my head, something ancient and cruel, something that wanted me and Mrin dead. It glided past me, leaving a trail of slime and straggler maggots. One of the larvae crawled towards me. Would it alert the others if it found me? Could it?

It reared up, looking me right in the eye. Did maggots have eyes? Could they see? Was the game already over, before I had even realised it began?

We stayed like that for an eternal moment, that tiny scrap of Not-Athena and I. I wondered if each maggot had its own mind, its own opinion. I wondered if it had a tiny scrap of our Athena in it, having become what it ate. I wondered if, when it turned away, it was out of pity or ignorance.

Either way, we were safe. For now.

My fingers found Mrin's hair as her murmurs slowly died off. “It's over,” I told her. “We're safe. Come on, let's get out of here.”

She nodded unsteadily. “Right. Get out. Get away. Move.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, a thought leaking out of her tongue. With a heave, she hauled herself out of our hidey-hole. Out in the open, I could see blood dribbling out of her lips. Whatever she had done had cost her something, that much I could tell.

I followed her out and pressed her into a seated position. Her eye was blank, glossed over like she was high. “Come on, Mrin,” I coaxed. How quickly the tables had turned. Me reassuring her, her protecting me, me healing her- it was an endless cycle, like a satellite's orbit of Earth, always falling and never hitting the ground. I needed to get her back on her feet, just like she had me. Well, not her physical feet. Her metaphorical ones. Damn, my head hurt. It was getting hard to think.

I peered into her mouth. Her gums were what bled, raw-red and potentially infected. No, not potentially. Definitely infected. When had it happened? She hadn't complained of such issues previously.

Curse it all. “Mrin, can you hear me? You alright?” She obviously wasn't, but I was running out of things to say. Everything was falling apart. I wanted to get back to falling apart too, but I couldn't. Not when she was like this.

She didn't respond. “Mrin? Please respond. I need you, Mrin.” Her pulse was soft, chest moving ever so slightly.

“Mrin?” Gods, I was repeating myself like a broken record. My own pet peeve, and I'd stooped to it. “Mrin, please. You got me out of there, and now I need you to get out of whatever dreamland you're in.”

Still nothing. If anything she was fading away. But this couldn’t be it. That was unacceptable. I'd spent a good fifth of my life with her. She’d had my back. She was my friend, my companion, my partner. I couldn't lose her. “Mrin?” I clasped her face, looking into those unfocused eyes of hers.

“I love you.”

If this had been a romance or a fairytale, she would have opened her eyes. If this had been a dream, a good dream, she would have whispered it back. If there had been any justice in this world, something should have happened.

But it wasn't. I was no pure of heart hero, and my knight in shining armour was none more than a tired, scared woman who'd pushed herself too far. Perhaps… Perhaps it was all I could do to sit beside her and hope.

I settled down next to her, running my fingers through her hair. It was matted to hell and back, but I had all the time in the world to detangle it. Not-Athena wouldn't come back here, not so soon, not when it had plenty of prey to pursue.

How were we gonna get out of this one? Was this how all the monsters in the labyrinth were born? From rude, self-obsessed little girls? From the corpses of their soft-hearted boyfriends? From the tears of an old man who had never wanted to care so much?

My tears were silent, landing on the knees I had pressed against my chest. My stomach ached. My mouth was dry from screaming and heaving and all the other vile things my day had been occupied with.

I wanted to go off and find some food, some water, some relief. I had chosen this hidey-hole well, even if I rarely visited it. I knew of a leaky pipe with semi-clean water, and a little stash of only slightly rusted cans of beans. But I couldn't leave Mrin. Not when she was like this.

The part of me that had truly hardened itself to the world told me to get up and walk away. It was sensible. I didn't know how to help her. I was no magician or wizard, to cure wounds caused by magic (or what I presumed to be magic, at least). I was only a useless little boy, who hadn't saved anyone, though he'd dedicated his life to it.

Some Doc I was.

Still- It was foolish to choose to let myself rot in here beside a woman who would probably die. It was foolish to waste time that could be better spent rebuilding my life from the corpses of my lost companions. It was foolish to hope.

But a fool I was, and a fool I had always been. There was a third choice beyond staying at my post and walking away. There has always been a third choice, even if I had neglected it so often. There was a third choice, and it was to not give up, to get back up on my feet, to try and try and try, no matter how many times I failed.

My bones creaked, my muscles screamed, and oh, oh, did my body cry. But I bit my tongue and swallowed my pain, because for once, I wasn't going to leave another person behind.

I wrapped my arms beneath Mrin's armpits and hauled, lugging her against the ground. A long time ago, I went for a first aid course. They taught us how to carry people there, with fancy names like fireman and piggyback. I couldn't remember any of it, and I wouldn't have had the strength to do it anyway.

But I hauled all the same, feeling my muscles clench and bones pop as I did so. My head throbbed like the worst hangover in a dozen lifetimes, and my fingers cramped such that I thought I'd never be able to move them again.

But still I hauled. My knees ground against each other, heels digging into the ground. I could taste blood from where I bit my tongue. Something tore in my back, and my vision flashed red and white like Not-Athena gulping down Brett.

And I continued hauling.

I pulled and dragged and heaved all the way to the very end, to where a single leaky pipe stood. A veritable oasis. I dropped Mrin down, collapsing beside her as I did so. What possessed me to give all our water skins to Brett? Damn it all.

With one dusty, aching hand, I caught a few droplets of water and washed Mrin's face. Her bare hands were skinned and covered in cuts from the concrete I had dragged her across, but she seemed stable. I dribbled some more water into her mouth and dripped my iodine onto some gauze.

Slowly, gently, I daubed it against her wounds. First the arms and the legs, cleaning them of the dust that permeated everything. Then it was her gums, taking care to clean it out with tissue afterwards. Then, last of all, I wiped the empty rim of her eye. Even after so many years, it pained me to see her socket. There was something so ugly about it, so visceral and harsh. It didn't belong on her face.

I cradled her in my arms after that, alternating between hydrating her and myself. With the water and the knowledge that the stash of cans was in a hole in the wall somewhere nearby, I found myself drifting off to sleep once more, leaning in a corner uncomfortably.

I dreamt of running through a golden field at dusk.

***

I was awoken by a gentle tugging on my arm. “Fuck off, Athena,” I mumbled. She always did this, raring to go at too-fucking-early o'clock. “We've got nothing important to do, there's no rush.”

“Yes, there is,” came the response. Too deep to be Athena and too feminine to be Brett, I consigned myself to the grim day at the hands of Mrin. Goodness knew what she wanted with-

Ah, fuck. The memory of the previous day rushed into my brain with a mental ‘pop’, and I winced. “Bloody, fucking hell. We gotta stop that thing, don't we?”

Mrin, somehow looking more alert than me, nodded. “Yep. According to my prediction, she's gonna overrun this entire place if we let her. Already, she's begun expanding. Give her two more days, and who knows what we might be facing?”

With a sigh, I rested my head against the wall. “Great. Just fucking great. Can't we run? Brett and Athena aren't gonna be rescued either way, and I don't think they'll want us to die fruitlessly.” A second thought adjoined itself to my grumbling, and I found myself adding, “Besides, you shouldn't be in action right now. You had some god-awful kind of infection just now, and you were half-dead. What even was that thing?”

Suddenly discomfited, Mrin shrugged. “Look,” she said, “It's complicated. What happened to me… Let's just say it was a occupational hazard. Thanks for cleaning me up, though. I'm better now.”

That statement did not make me feel better. On top of this hostile shithole, on top of Brett and Athena's deaths, on top of that monstrosity roaming the halls, Mrin was hiding something from me? Had been hiding something from me? Would continue to hide something from me? Did our years of travelling together mean nothing? Damnit.

I trusted her, yes. I'd always trust her. That was just how a partnership worked. But it was the first time I'd ever considered that this didn't go both ways, that she was lying to me. Probably for my safety, or perhaps for her own, but it still stung. It was another straw upon the back of a struggling camel.

She saw it in my eyes. “Look, Doc, it's complicated. After this is all over, I swear I'll tell you everything. No more secrets between us, okay?” There was a pause, as though that promise cost her something. “And, speaking of which… Did you mean it? What you said while you were trying to wake me up, I mean.”

Oh. That. For a moment, the old Doc, the one who got himself blackout drunk on the day of his med school exams and flirted with every woman in the bar came rushing back. Refutations landed on the tip of my tongue, as familiar as the lies I'd always told myself. I forced them back down. Had I not made a promise to myself? To not take the easy way out, as I'd always done?

“Yes. I meant it. I love you, Mrin. And I'm no poet. I don't have a way with words, or a thing for grand gestures, or even the ability to make this… place romantic. All I can offer you is what I've already given: a steady pair of hands and a partner to watch your back. You don't need to love me back. I know I'm a difficult man to love.” I found myself gripping her hands and looking into her eye. “But I hope you do. I really do. I hope you love me like a rock against the stormy sea, like the sun rising in the East every day, like a couple growing old together.”

“There's a word for that,” she whispered back, leaning in close. “I can't recall it, but I know the Greeks gave it a name. I know it means sensible love. And I know- I know I love you.” She pulled me into a hug, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Never figured I'd find love, you know. Always thought that was for women prettier and smarter than me. Of all things, to find it here and now…”

A tiny sigh escaped her lips, like the swish of a guillotine. I didn't like that sound, not one little bit. “Doc, there's something I need to do.” Her fingers dug into my clothes. “I- Stay here, will you? Wait for me.”

We disentangled from each other, and I said, “I'll wait for you forever if need be. After all, we did wait for each other all this time.”

Mrin pursed her lips, the sides of her eyes crinkling up. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Path G:

As she turned to go, I stopped her. “Wait. I want to help you. Didn’t I just say I was your partner? Let’s do this together, Mrin.”

It made her break into a proper smile. This time I could see the cracks in it, where something that horrible and despairing lurked. “Are you alright? You look… troubled, my love.” The last word lingered on my tongue. It tasted like the fields in summer.

“It's nothing, Doc. Nothing at all.” Mrin turned away, but I caught the flash of grief. Stronger, it was. Starker against the warmth in my chest.

“No, it's not nothing. Don't brush me off, Mrin. Not after everything we've done,” I said, grabbing her arm and pressing it to my chest. “I swear, Mrin, I'm done trying to accept my fate. I'm done trying to make my own heart freeze over. I'm done refusing to admit that I don't care about you, or Athena, or Brett.”

I don't know when I decided that. To be honest, I hadn't quite realised it until the words flew out of my mouth. I suppose it must have been when Mrin burst into tears that night. It always did come back to her, after all. Her and that piercing gaze of hers. It revealed things I didn't know about myself.

But it was true. I was done, once and for all, of letting harm coming to the ones I loved. It was time for me to step up and be a man for once. I pressed her calloused hand to my chest. “Come on, Mrin. Tell me what's wrong. Let's face it together, no matter how horrible. Isn't that what partners are for?”

She looked down, avoiding my gaze. “I've come to a conclusion of my own, Doc. I think- I think it's time I stopped trying to make the impossible happen. I've been stuck here for what, a decade? And no matter how hard I've tried, I can't find a way to escape this place. I…”

“I don't think there is one.”

The admission made her voice crack, and she yanked her hand from my chest as though I'd stabbed her. “Fuck, that hurts to say aloud. But it's the truth, isn't it? There's just no way out. We're stuck here. Doomed.”

It was the opposite of my decision. “Mrin…”

“No! It's pointless, don't you get it?! It's so… so accursedly unfair of you to say something like ‘I love you', right when I've made my choice! I admired you, Doc. I admired how stoic you were. I tried so, so fucking hard to stay calm in the face of everything. I tried so hard not to care. I tried to be like you, and just as I succeed, you do this?!”

She shook, though with rage or grief, I could not tell. “You stupid bastard. You and Athena and Brett, you've all left me no choice.”

“I've got to save you all. Even if it means killing myself.”

“Mrin, what the hell are you talking about?” I tried to reach out again, and she gave me an infuriated look.

“Run the numbers, Doc. I'm never going to be happy here. I don't want to spend my life chasing something that will never come to pass. It's all so pointless. Pointless, I tell you.”

“You're repeating yourself again, Mrin.” Even as I said it, I knew it was useless. We really were doomed to repeat our mistakes. This conversation had been the lead-up to Athena's death, and it was gonna be the lead-up to Mrin's too. I felt that mantle of despair settle about my shoulders, unavoidable as ever.

Yet I had to try anyways, didn't I? Wasn't that what I'd told her just now? Damn, this trying thing was hard. It was hard to get arms to move when they'd stayed still for so long, hard to get the ball rolling when it'd been gathering moss for forever, hard to try when it was so much easier to just not. But I had to. For Athena, who I hadn't reached out to in time. For Brett, who I could have saved if I'd been less of a fool.

For Mrin, who I still had. Who I might lose. Who I couldn't lose, not when we'd admitted the truth to each other.

“It's not pointless, Mrin. You're a fool if you believe that.”

“Are you looking at this place? You said it yourself: we're in Hell. The one with the capital H. We're fucking doomed, Doc.” She gesticulated to the walls around us. “Do you really want to scrape out a life eating out of rusty old cans and drinking stale water?”

“If I get to be with you? Yes. I'd endure all the torment in the world to be by your side,” I said. And somehow, I meant it.

It took her aback. We stared at each other, silent save for the steady drip of the leaky pipe. Finally, in a soft, wavery voice, she said, “oh.”

“I mean it, alright? You bring the light back into this world. I love you, Mrin. You've made an old heart come back to li-”

She hushed me. There was a glimmer of light over her eye, the sheen of tears she refused to let fall. “Don’t start on that. You’d really suffer through torment for me? Endure that much?”

I nodded. “Like I've said, I'm no romantic. But what better reason is there to live than for love?”

“I- I suppose so.” The light was coming back into her, something firm, strong and unyielding as steel. Something like the Mrin I knew. “Okay, then. I guess there's a change of plans.”

“Here's the thing, Doc. I know how to stop that thing.” She paused, as though for dramatic effect.

“And?”

“It's gonna kill me.”

God-fucking-damnit. “Of course it is. Because this entire place just wants us dead, doesn't it?! Well, screw that, if that was your original plan. If we have to, we continue running from it until the end of time.” Or until we died, but I didn't want to think of that then.

“Yes, yes.” Mrin swatted away the thought. “We just agreed on that. I promise you, Doc, as long as I love you and you love me, I won't abandon you.”

The pronouncement made my heart warm. “But then… What are we gonna do?”

She scrunched her face up. “I don't know. Not for sure, anyway. You don't drive away such a powerful possession without great sacrifice. But- And bear with me here, this is absolutely ridiculous, but we have the power of love on our side.”

It was ridiculous to hear the words out of her mouth. What were we, children? This wasn't some silly little fairy tale. We weren't a bunch of sanitised little heroes to go against the big baddie. We were doomed, in hell, fools all of us.

Weren't we?

I swallowed my refutations and said, “Okay? And what does that mean?”

“Love, in and of itself, is a sacrifice, Doc. It's giving a piece of your heart away, letting yourself risk getting hurt, allowing hope to sink its insidious claws into you. To love truly and without reservation is a sacrifice that might just drive away a beast of pure desire like The One That Lurks.”

“This is stupid,” I said, before I could catch my tongue. “What are we doing, Mrin? We've both considered giving up. How the hell is the power of our love and hope going to make anything work? We can barely keep ourselves together! Bloody hell, in the past day we've lost just about everything and everyone.”

“I want to believe, Mrin, I really do. I want this all to work out perfectly. I want to wake up and discover I'm back in the fields near my childhood home. I want to wake up every day and feel the sun on my face. I want Athena and Brett to suddenly come back to life and live happily ever after.”

“When I said that I was gonna try my best, that I was gonna stop surrendering to my fate, that I was done being a coward, I didn't mean that somehow everything was gonna turn out alright. That just… doesn't happen. Not to people like us.”

Her expression remained eerily faithful. “But what if it could, Doc? What if it could?”

“If it could, then you'd have done it by now, no?” Shit, I could feel the worm of hope gnawing its way through the applecore of my soul again. It was a foul feeling, but I resisted crushing it.

“I alone could never have done it. Love isn't something a person can do on their own. But I love you, and you love me, and together, maybe, just maybe, we have the power to stop this. To revert Athena to her old self and put the scraps of Brett back together.” She took my hands in hers. “After all, don't we have to try?”

Oh, god, this was stupid. But I'd promised, hadn't I? “Yeah,” I said. “We have to try.”

***

And that was how we ended up standing back in the altar-hall of the cultists, Mrin and I, our hearts pounding with fear. Mrin's sabre was unsheathed, and she held it in a low guard.

Sure, the hall was empty. Sure, the cultists were gone. Sure, we were in no danger. But that was about to change, and fast. “How much longer have we got?”

She shrugged. “Five minutes, max? We'll hear the first of her soon, if at all.”

Our plan, insofar as it went without reaching the ‘pray the power of love saves us' stage, was simple. Leave a trail of blood from our hidey hole to here and hope Not-Athena would follow.

The blood we'd gotten from a wide, shallow cut on my wrist. Only one person's blood could be used, lest Not-Athena catch wind of our plan. For all of Mrin's knowledge, she didn't know just how smart that thing was, and I didn't want to find out.

It wasn't five minutes when she found us. It wasn't even one. Just as I opened my mouth to respond, a vast shadow coalesced from the ceiling.

“My, my. Two measly mortals. Beckoning me, are you?” Her voice came from all around us, layered repetitions of our Athena's voice circling like vultures. “Something you need, dearies? Perhaps you'd like to join your little friend in feeding me?” The sugary glee in her voice made my bile rise.

“I- No,” I said, feeling my voice crack. “We're here to make you give us back our kids. Whether you like it or not.”

God, what was I doing? How dumb was I? This was a suicide mission. In a moment, I was going to be ripped to shreds and sliding down the gullet of a thousand worms.

Speaking of them, the worms of Not-Athena began sculpting themselves into her form. Save for the size and composition of her body, she might well have been the girl I knew. “And how do you think you'll do that, little man?”

Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I know what you are, mortal. You're a coward. A worthless, snivelling little coward. And your girlfriend is no better. She is made of bloodthirst and ambition. Unworthy, all of you. Foul. Tainted.” The mass chittered with laughter. “How fortunate you are that I like taint.”

Mrin raised her blade and pointed it right at Not-Athena. “We don't care for your pretty words. Give us back the kids. Now.”

“Or else?” Not-Athena tilted her head to a side. “Will you raise your hand against me in futility? Will you sacrifice yourself in a grand gesture of hopelessness? Will you die for those two snot-nosed brats?”

She shook her head. “I'll do you one better than that. I'll live for them. I'll live and worry and fret and accept that I'm never going home for them. I'll stay for them, for the ones I love.”

“Is love something you'd understand? I don't think so. For all your power and all your greatness, you'll never truly know love. It is what makes leaf litter into a sapling, what spins death back into life, what makes your precious rot into something beautiful. Love will turn the worst of hell into home, love will turn these lights into a blazing sun, and love will turn you back into our Athena.”

The monster hissed, rearing back as though she'd struck it. “And you, little coward? Would you truly wish to suffer for all eternity in the name of an ungrateful whelp, a naive fool and a lying, thieving witch? Would you make that sacrifice? Would you, truly?”

There was an edge to her voice now, as though she were afraid. As though we had wounded her somehow. I stepped forward, ready to back Mrin up, ready to fight for what I believed. I took a deep breath. By some trick of the weather or the presence of the woman I loved by my side, I found the strength to do something, for once.

“Begone, foul beast. You're not welcome here. Athena might be an ingrate, but goodness knows I've been one too. Brett's naive, sure, but look who's standing here trying to save two dead people? And yes, Mrin lied, but we've all done that. Any sin they've committed I've done tenfold. Any flaw they hold in their hearts, I hold in mine too. Any thing I would condemn them for would make me a hypocrite.”

“Nonsense, child. You had a reason to do what you did. You're different from them. See, boy?” Her voice was wheedling, weaker and weaker. We were… winning, somehow.

“And? So what? They had their reasons too. And even if they didn't, would it truly change anything? They're family. That word doesn't mean anything to you, does it? I love them. I love them all enough to plunge myself through hell and back again. I love them enough to face the greatest of monsters for them. I love them, and that love is damn well greater than anything you could possibly summon!”

“So give us back our kids, damn you, and crawl back to whatever dimension you came from. Go away and hope you never come across love again, because it can and will burn you to ash.”

Not-Athena laughed, a vicious, deep-bellied noise, and I felt my hope wither. What did we think we were doing? She wasn't hurt at all. We couldn't make rot bleed, the same way you couldn't kill death. And now we were going to pay for our hubris.

But still I did not flinch, did not run, did not let that fear into my heart. I couldn't, not with Mrin by my side.

“Mortals, mortals, mortals. Always so confident in love. I am the One That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh, and nothing so pathetic as true love can stop me. I know what love is. I've felt in my bones. When I gulped down my worshippers, their love filled my stomach and made me warm. What makes you think yours could be any different?”

I spat at the ground before her. The gesture reminded me of Athena. It reminded me of her ferocity, her defiance, that sheer doggedness that would shift mountains. I needed some of that right there and then. “First off, I don't love you. If you gulped me down, I'd burn your innards all the way and give each and every one of your disgusting little maggots a stomach ache.”

I shifted my stance, lowering my centre of gravity the way Brett did. I could use some of his bravery then, some of the faith he held in his heart, that unshakable kindness that should have protected us all. “Second of all, Love doesn't destroy. It creates. It protects. It nurtures. It is the antithesis of love. What you felt was mere worship.”

I grabbed Mrin's hand and clenched it. Oh, how I prayed her wisdome and insight would strike home one last time. Oh, how I prayed whatever black magic she had dabbled in would ring true. Oh, how I prayed our love would be enough. “Thirdly, by the power invested in us, the strength of love, faith and hope, we bind you away, One That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh! Begone!”

Not-Athena let out a great roar, her larvae rippling as though struck. It was working. It was working itwasworkingitwas-

She absorbed the invisible blow, rearranging herself and fixing a look of pure fury upon her features.

“Fine! Infuriating creatures. Keep your lives, you are hardly worth it. I will leave. Be grateful for the mercy I have shown you,” Not-Athena announced.

Oh, how my heart leapt! I would have seized the opportunity immediately if it had been me. To be happy ever after with Mrin, I'd bite the bullet and accept that Athena and Brett weren't coming back. Shit, it would be enough for me to just have her. I wanted to save Brett, sure, and it wasn't fair to leave Athena behind either, but even escaping with our lives was more than I'd hoped for.

I opened my mouth to tell Not-Athena so, to thank her for the mercy and hug Mrin and let the world be good. But my love silenced me, and took another step forward.

“Bullshit. Give us back the kids. Now. Don't make me ask again, Lurker.” The last word came out as a sneer, reeking of arrogance I hadn't thought Mrin had.

“Tch. You presume too much of yourself, little witch. Your love is not enough to spare more than two. Direct that blade at me all you want: You shall not get a better deal.” Not-Athena, the Lurker, stared her down.

Still, Mrin didn't budge. “You really wanna risk it? Really?” Her lips twitched. “So be it. If pointing my sabre does nothing, perhaps slashing it might help.”

Before Not-Athena could react, she lunged. Quick as a flash, she drove the sword into the thick of the maggots. As one, they screamed, a wholly terrifying noise, like a banshee and a ambulance siren had a demented love child. I cringed from it, stumbling back and clamping my hands over my fingers.

Mrin, somehow, remained unaffected. “I warned you,” she yelled over the din. “Now give us back Athena and Brett!”

The swarm pulled itself back. “Never,” Not-Athena snarled. “You will regret trying to fight one such as I.”

“Like fuck I will,” she said, pulling back her sword for another go.

That was when it all went wrong.

I'd known from the start that it would. Nothing went right in this hell. Nothing at all. That little nugget of terror, my old frenemy, was the only reason I was prepared when something flew at Mrin.

I dodged the swarm as it descended upon her. They were flies, thousands of them. It made a horrible kind of sense. Of course there would be flies when there were maggots. Nasty, disease spreading flies. They flung themselves at Mrin with reckless abandon, not caring if she shook them off. Their little feet and mouths dug into the exposed flesh from the maggots' attack.

She should have been able to push through it. Mrin was strong, after all, far stronger than me. She should have brushed them off with a single stroke. She should have overcome them, and plunged her blade into Not-Athena's heart, slaying the beast.

But she didn't. Instead, she flung her sword down and curled up, screaming in sudden agony. It was worse than any banshee, that sound of hers, for it pierced me to the very core. Before I could think straight, I was on my feet and running to her.

As I grew close, I saw what plagued her so. Beneath her skin, under the thick cloud of flies, lumps shifted and gnawed. Myiasis sprung to my mind instantly, a remnant of the semester I spent as a volunteer medic in some poverty stricken, war torn land. The laying of eggs beneath flesh.

Not-Athena, The Lurker, that beast, intended to eat my love from the inside out. “Run,” Mrin mouthed at me, before more flies flew down her throat. I wanted to hurl, the sour bile coming up my throat, but I forced it back down. This wasn't the time to be weak. This wasn't the time to run. We'd come too far to do that.

I grabbed her fallen sword and hefted it. Rising to my feet, I turned to face Not-Athena. “You,” I snarled. “You don't get to hurt my love. You don't get to hurt my love, or my kids, or me. You let go of her this instant, you hear me? You're not gonna eat my girlfriend alive, you fucking bitch. I won't let you.”

I ran at her. Goodness knows my form was awful, and my arms were hardly more than noodles, but I don't think that mattered there and then. What was more important was that I made good on my promise, and didn't hesitate. As soon as I finished my words, I was slicing through her.

Slime, insect blood, and goodness knows what else splattered me. I felt things squirm across my flesh, seeking open wounds to bury themselves into. They made me itch all over, a nearly unbearable feeling in and of itself. But Mrin had endured this for me. Mrin had suffered, was suffering, for me. I couldn't just abandon her like that.

“Fine! Take the warrior-girl. I will leave,” Not-Athena snarled as I buried myself in the mass of her body. Somehow, they died by the swarm, everything Mrin's sabre touched dying like… well, flies. Which they were, in a way.

“No,” I yelled back, spitting out the worms that fell into my mouth. “Give me back both of them. I'm not abandoning anyone, you hear me? I'm done! You pushed me and pushed me, and this time I'm not backing down! Prepare to die.” I cleaved one more time, and a face appeared from underneath the writhing maggots.

“Athena!” Her eyes were closed, a shallow slice over her throat. It would not kill her, I realised, though she would carry the scar for the rest of her life. I lowered my blade immediately to haul her free.

“If you do that, I will kill the witch,” Not-Athena buzzed around me. “My children will erupt from her skin and eat her alive. Will you make that sacrifice, little coward?”

Between agonised sobs, Mrin said, “Do it, Doc. Trust me. You- You have to.”

I turned back, shaking off more maggots as I did so. “But-”

“Do it.”

I looked into her eyes desperately. Was this a trick? I couldn't sacrifice her. But that steel in her gaze told me not to disobey. “Do. It.”

So I did. “We'll make that sacrifice,” I told Not-Athena. “No, I'll make that sacrifice. Together. Let me take on her burden. For Brett and Athena and our safety, I'll do it.”

The maggots halted for a second. “You mean that, little mortal? You would endure unspeakable agonies just to lessen your love's? You would sacrifice that much?” She paused, as though wagering something. “Would you sacrifice your entire being, take on the witch's agony and carry twice the burden? Would you die for them?”

I nodded resolutely. “I would endure it a thousand times over. I would die and be reincarnated in the flames of hell for them. What greater cause is there than to die for the ones you love, after all? Take my life, Lurker. I will go willingly into the night for love.”

As a boy, I'd never understood those tales of men holding down the fort, sending themselves off to certain death in a faraway warzone for their wives and children. I'd always told myself that I would desert, flee like a sane person, live a life of comfort far away as hostiles ripped the land I loved to shreds.

Damn, but I was wrong then.

Not-Athena cackled. “What a fine choice, little boy. What a fine choice indeed. I will release those children, and my young will slither out of the witch, and then I shall have you. I shall take you until you scream and tell me that you can bear no more. Then your bargain shall expire, and I will feast upon you and your loves.”

Her maggots clung to my eyelashes, crawling into my ears and nostrils. I felt them in my innards. “Deal,” I managed to say, swallowing maggots as I did so. They tumbled down my gullet, squirming like butterflies all the way into my stomach.

Then everything went black.

No, that wasn't quite right. Everything went to pain.

Maggots slithered under my nails, like those bamboo sticks the Japanese used on POWs. They wiggled past my eyelids and into the sockets, gnawing through flesh where needed. They were everywhere, at my crotch, into my belly button, deep in my ear canal. I was swimming in maggots.

Hot damn, it hurt. There weren't words for the agony. I would have scrubbed my skin clean, ripped my ribs free from my chest, strangled myself with my own intestines just to be free of the itch. I screamed, but it only let more maggots in.

They chipped my teeth, ripping at the sensitive nerves beneath the enamel. Sobbing, I clawed at myself. I'd do anything to rid myself of the sensation. Anything to get rid of the pain, the itch, the squirming. Anything at all.

“So do you go back on our deal? I'm more than happy to release you,” came the reply. It reverberated inside my bones, where worms ate their way through my marrow.

No. Never that. Anything but that. I couldn't sacrifice them for me. I wouldn't. I-

A new wave of agony overtook me. I clung to sanity by the tips of my fingers, trying to think of anything except the pain of those little mouths biting into me.

The memory of a field came back to me. Golden wheat at sunset, wind ruffling my hair. I kept it longer back then, long enough to make girls swoon. I cut it all off less than a week into my life in hell. It was pointless to keep it, after all.

No, I didn't want to think of what happened to my hair. Not when something was squirming into the pores of my scalp, wriggling past layers of flaky dandruff.

I should've gone back home right after I graduated, shouldn't have stuck around, shouldn't have made all those crap choices. Maybe I would have still been at home. Maybe I would have had kids, raised them up in the city, started my own practice and made enough to live comfortably. Maybe I would have been happy.

But I didn't. And who was I kidding? I would never have done it. I was a fucking bastard back then, a bastard through and through. Perhaps this was karma, my payback for my past actions.

At least I'd saved Mrin from it. It hurt my very soul to think that Brett suffered the same agony. Even if I'd deserved it, he didn't.

Still ruminating on your mistakes, mortal? You've paid the price, you know. You've paid it a dozen times over. You could go back to that field of yours, if only you ask me to. You could go back in time and undo every bit of foolishness that led you here. Think about it.

All you'd need to do is go back on your bargain. It's a bit of selfishness you deserve.

Was that my voice? Or was it the monster's? Damn, but it was hard to think beneath all the wriggling. Perhaps the maggots had eaten past my thick skull and into my brain.

But one thing was for sure: I wasn't going to go back on it. Not this time.

Why? You know they don't deserve such loyalty. They wouldn't return it. They've all done something to deserve it, Doc. That's why they're here, after all. Remember that they lied to you, Doc. Remember that.

The wriggling ceased sharply as I moved to agree. Yeah, they didn't deserve it. Sure, they'd probably done something equally horrible.

But- and I felt a blast of agony as I thought it- I loved them. I cared. And that alone meant more than a thousand lies. That meant more than all the maggots feasting on me. That meant everything to me.

A pair of arms seized me then, grabbing my elbows roughly. In my shock, I coughed out a handful of larvae.

Through the grey haze, a girl was yelling. Her voice was high, familiar, and absolutely furious. “Let him go, you crazy insect bitch! He's ours, you hear me?! Keep your filthy worms off of him!”

Athena. My Athena. Our Athena. She was alive and kicking, the very same as she had been before. That, too, was everything.

So when a second and third pair of hands caught me, I began struggling towards them. Because they were my family, my everything, and I meant something to them in return.

I coughed up thick worm-ridden phlegm, kicking my legs in a twisted facsimile of that time I'd tried and failed to swim in the lake, and crawled. My progress made the movement of a snail seem lighting-fast; the maggots resisted me at every turn, contracting simultaneously like a sphincter.

But still I was stronger, and soon I found my nose free of the swarm. Miraculously, my insides were un-maggot-infested- had it all been a hallucination? A ploy by Not-Athena to make me break my own promise? It sounded like something she would do.

She released a furious cry as I gasped for air. “You are mine, mortal! You sacrificed yourself to me. Don't you dare deny me now,” she snarled.

Mrin let go of my hands. “He's ours, Lurker, fair and square. He has paid his debt with a whole-hearted sacrifice, and refused to back down. He, my two friends, and I are all free to go. Or are you going to cause a fuss?” The deadly gleam in her eye gave even me pause. “You know who the forces of nature will side with here, Lurker. Scram.”

Not-Athena puffed herself up angrily, but spat me out. “Do not think I do this because I fear you, little witch. Keep your not-coward, he was hardly worth it. And those two children were practically all skin and bones anyways.” She paused for a moment to look at our Athena. The maggots whispered something that I could not catch, something that sounded like an offer. One last ploy to catch us, one last worm of a string to reel up her dinner.

For a fleeting moment, desire came over Athena's face, a yearning that I'd never seen before. This was it, I thought. After everything we did, we were gonna die because that damned girl never learnt the meaning of self control. I closed my eyes and flexed my wonderfully free fingers one last time.

“No,” she said suddenly. “I’m sorry, but I can't accept that. You should leave, worm bitch. Don't let me catch you hanging around here again.” She puffed up her chest in a vague facsimile of Mrin, staring down the monster coldly.

Not-Athena let out a final hiss, then evaporated. Hundreds of thousands of larvae burst into flies simultaneously, scattering faster than I could catch them. Within seconds, we stood in an empty hall, safe from cultists and monsters and all the other nasties. Just me and my family.

We stared at each other, me drenched in slime and them panting heavily, all mysteriously unharmed. Even the slice at Athena's neck was naught more than a scar.

I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder, and she backed away. “You saved me,” she stated. “Even though you knew what I did.”

I shook my head. “That was all Mrin. If it were up to me, I would have left both of you in there and ran for my life.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Sure you would. That's why you put yourself through… that. Because you just wanted to run away and abandon us.”

I couldn't argue with that.

Brett stepped up and pulled me into a bear hug. Damn, but that boy was too big for his own good. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “For saving me. And I'm sorry I argued with you. It was wrong of me to call you all those names, especially when you've been looking after us all and I know it must have been hard on-”

I shushed him. “Nonsense. You were in the right there. We're family, aren't we? And family lets the little things slide.”

“Little things like torturing a cultist? I do believe your exact words were ‘I just can't think of a monster that would've done this’.” Athena, of course. Who else would speak like that?

“We're having a moment here, girl. Stop trying to ruin it.” I patted Brett on the back again, and he released me. “Thanks for not crushing my lungs, Brett. I've had quite enough suffering for one day.”

He laughed at that and stepped away, turning to his girlfriend. “Athena,” he said, lighting up as they locked gazes.

“What?” She looked away guiltily. “Are you mad at me for… you know, killing that guy? Because it was inexcusable. And it was unforgivable. And if you hate me now, I completely understand.”

Brett shook his head. “I don't hate you, Athena. I would never hate you.” He took a deep breath and stepped closer. This time, she didn't move away, looking up at him with arms crossed. “I love you and I loved you and I will always love you.”

“That's a bit excessive, isn't it?”

He scoffed. “I ran into a horde of cultists for you. I looked a monster in the eye and confessed to her my undying love for you. I would give you my head on a plate, Athena.”

Then they kissed. Sometimes it upset me that they seemed to be living in a post-apocalyptic romance and I a horror movie.

That, of course, was when I realised I hadn't heard a peep from my love, the one who had saved us all, whether she was willing to admit it or not. I turned to face her, and found her staring, dead on, down a hallway, half-turned away from us. “Mrin?”

She didn't respond. “Hey, you good?”

A quiet sob escaped her lips. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Huh?”

She whipped around. “Did you even understand what I was trying to do? Did you know how badly that could have gone, when you ran off the script? Did you even think when you volunteered to get tortured like that? I knew how to get myself out, damnit! Why would you just sacrifice yourself like that?”

“Because I love you, Mrin. I love you and I would burn in a thousand hells just to keep you safe,” I replied, reaching out for her.

She all but threw herself in my arms. “Stupid old man,” she mumbled into my neck. “Doesn't know the first thing about magic and goes and makes a deal with a fucking Lurker. Stupid, stupid old man.”

I gave her a helpless smile. “You didn't know that already?”

“Do you know what you've done? You've singlehandedly made a sacrifice grand enough to dispel a goddess and resurrect the dead twice. You healed me. You damn well worked high magic.” She snorted, as though disbelieving her own words. “And high magic is exactly what we need to escape this hellhole.”

“Oh god, not this again.”

“No, no, hear me out here. All we need to do is repeat this entire ordeal. We can simulate it with the Twisteds down by the hospital rooms. Start by chaining, say, Athena, to a wall-” She cut herself off.

“Wait, you're right. This- This isn't going to work out. We're stuck here, and the price we'd need to pay to unstick ourselves is just too high. Out of everyone, I suffered the least throughout this. I have no right to suggest that all of us go through it again.”

With a quiet sigh, Mrin shook her head. “It's alright. I have you,” she said, looking into my eyes. “And I think that's more than enough for me. My love.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine and a smile up my lips. We held each other close, Mrin and I, and for once, I didn't shy away from making a choice.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. It wasn't amazing, as kisses went. I'd lost most of my touch with age, and the memory of both of us in ugly agony still lingered. But it was a kiss, and my first one in decades at that.

Hell was never quite so hellish after that.

Path B:

I watched her get up, a tiny voice whispering to me as she left. You'll never see her again, it said. She's going to take her secrets with her and leave.

I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't be all alone again. I couldn't let her keep her lies to herself. So I scrambled to my feet and followed her, keeping to the walls and praying she would not notice the Doc-shaped shadow that stalked her.

Mrin moved resolutely, as though driven by a homing instinct. Not once did she turn around. Not once did she look back to where I should have been. Not once did she hesitate to abandon me.

I hadn't known she was that heartless. It hurt. But still I tracked her, growing more and more daring by the moment. It was clear she would not catch me, not with her so occupied as she was.

Round a corner we went, past where a trail of tattered clothes told me those fleeing cultists had fallen. Not even the bones were left of them. I stepped over them, wincing as I did so. Nobody, not Brett or the cultists, deserved the fate of being eaten alive.

As she walked, it slowly became apparent that Mrin was retracing her steps, heading back to that fateful hallway where Athena had been morphed in the first place. That was… Bad, to put it in the words of the late Brett. What were her intentions?

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, just beyond the grand room where the cultists had held their fateful ritual. The movement was sudden enough that I nearly revealed myself.

Mrin unsheathed her sabre. She took in a deep shuddering breath. The grief in that noise made my heart break, and I yearned to reach out to her. But she had lied to me, hadn't she? She had hidden parts of herself from me, and if I wanted to know the truth, I too had to remain hidden.

Falling to her knees, Mrin slammed her sword into the concrete before her. By some miracle, it didn't chip. Another deep, shuddering breath. Her shoulders slumped. Then she spoke.

“Our Lady That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh! I call you. I have lost kin to you, soul-kin, our bond thick as any blood. You have taken one of mine and turned her to your schemes, stolen another and drank his lifeblood. Now, I call you, and I demand redress.”

Her voice rang clear as a bell, an undercurrent of power within it. It was so at odds to the defeat within her mere moments ago, so at odds to her appearance, that for a moment I wondered if it had not been her who spoke. But no: Mrin and I were the only people around for miles.

She looked up, as though expecting to see something. “Lurker,” she called out warningly. “I'm not in the mood to play games. You know the rules well as I. You know what you're obliged to do. What you don't know is what I'm willing to sacrifice to protect my family. And let me tell you: You won't want to know. So let me tell you again: I call you, and I demand redress. Right here. Right now.”

I held my breath. For a moment, it seemed as though Not-Athena had ignored her entirely. Then the walls began to shake.

Out poured maggots, of course. That was what this whole thing had been about, after all. They dribbled down the cracks in the walls, worming between my feet. I suppressed a scream and stepped away from them, but they had no interest in me.

Worming their way to the hall, they skirted around Mrin, diving between her legs like seafoam and crawling upon each other on the other end to form a tower. Divots formed, mimicking eye sockets and a mouth. Within moments, a woman stood before us.

She looked… different. Better fed. More assured. Older. The ferality of Athena, the form she had taken last, was replaced with a majesty. This was a goddess in truth, I thought, and it made me quake where I stood.

Mrin, however, was unimpressed. She stood her ground, sabre in hand. The great beast of Not-Athena stood before her, filling up half the hallway.

A grotesque smile stretched across her lips. “My, my. Two measly mortals. Beckoning me, are you?” Her voice came from all around us, layered repetitions of our Athena's voice circling like vultures. There was a smirk in it, a tilting of the hat at my hidden presence. That frightened me more than anything else. “Something you need, dearies? Perhaps you'd like to join your little friend in feeding me?” The sugary glee in her voice made my bile rise.

“Give me back my kids,” Mrin snarled, pointing the tip of her blade at Not-Athena's torso. She seemed so small there. I wanted to reach out, to scream and tell her to run, but my legs were ground to a halt.

No, there would be no saving done by Doc today. It was all just too much, the weight of all the suffering I'd carried. How could I care when caring brought me nothing but suffering? Love was good and all, but it had only hurt me. Better that it had happened this way, a tiny voice whispered to me. She was a liar anyways, wasn't she? She would never have trusted you. Nevermind that we were partners.

“I'm sorry, Mrin,” I whispered. “You fool.” If she'd told me, if she'd reached out, if she had opened up, we might have found a way together. We might have run away and stayed safe, instead of this foolish sacrifice.

No, that voice whispered. It was always your fault. Fool boy. You thought you could defeat me a divine being? You're nothing. That's all you will ever be.

Coward.

Blaming the witch for your own apathy? It was your fault all along. You could have changed this with just a little effort. You could have reached out to the girl, stopped bickering with the boy, actually bothered opening up to the one you call your love. And now, you're going to pay the price.

Not-Athena unhinged her jaw, releasing a cascade of grey-white larvae upon my partner. I watched, frozen by horror, as they fell upon her. I watched Mrin slash and hack her way through the horde, somehow parting the sea of vermin. I watched and I hoped and I prayed as she grew closer and closer to the heart of Not-Athena, the One that Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh.

Oh, gods, how I hoped. How I prayed that Mrin’s faith would be enough, that the power invested in her would bring us all a happy ending. But hope and love and happy endings were for men better than I, and belonged to a world kinder than mine.

By some miracle of magic, neither of them noticed me. I wept and screamed silently as Not-Athena overwhelmed my final ally. It was not a swift process. First, the maggots piled up on her, ripping through clothes and exposing her skin. She did not slow then, not even as they bit into her, gnawing open little patches of exposed flesh that reminded me of Brett's demise. Perhaps that was what it was, a repeat of her death, an encore for a callous audience, a final lap of sacrifice to end the monster those cultists had brought about.

Up until the very end, she refused to slow, the sliver of her steel blade flashing and glinting in a relentless attack. Gods, she was a hero, brave and brilliant and bold. I wish I had told her that. I wish I had had more time to love her. I wish… I wish I wasn't such a failure.

But you are. And that's all you ever be.

As she plunged into the depths of Not-Athena, to her certain death, I did not weep for Mrin. I did not weep for her or Brett or Athena. I wept for my own cowardice, that uselessness that had cost everyone everything.

But Mrin wasn't half as useless as me. No, she was better than I deserved. With the last of her strength, as bone peeked out from the maggots' assault, she tossed out the small, frail body of a girl. The small, frail body of Athena.

How had she done it? I couldn't say. It had something to do with her magic, something about the essence over the material. Athena had been the maggots, and then the body of Not-Athena, and then herself. Or so I theorised, anyway.

It broke the spell that held our enemy together, and the maggots lost their form, collapsing onto Mrin.

Snapped out of my reverie, I reached out and grabbed Athena from Mrin's outstretched arms. She was light in my arms. Had she always been so?

I cradled her against me, watching the woman I'd only just admitted to loving be devoured. I didn't bother reaching out: There was no point, anyways.

As Mrin died, she watched me. There was no shock in her eyes. Had she known all along that I was there? Had she done all this with the faith that I would save her?

Her mouth was open, though I could not tell if she was screaming for me to save her or for me to run. No sound came out, for her windpipe was ripped to little shreds. Not-Athena left her face for last, perhaps out of sadism. Compelled by the strange twist in my chest, I stepped closer until our noses were practically touching.

“Mrin,” I whispered. “I'm sorry.” She didn't say anything, only kept that horrified expression. The maggots started on her eyes. There had to be something I could do, if only to put her out of her misery. I didn't, for I feared attracting the maggots’ attention if I touched them, even with the tip of my knife. I was too much of a coward to even save the life of my love. But there was one thing I could do, one thing I did, one simple, ugly thing.

I kissed her on her lips, the last thing to go.

Then I stepped back and let the worms finish their work. They turned on each other when they polished off her bones, lapping over one another like cannibalistic waves until there was only a single bulbous maggot remaining. Then it too ate itself, grabbing its own tail and slurping itself up in a way no science could explain.

I went back to Athena. She wasn't worth it, wasn't worth all the death we'd seen. But still, I took out my needle, unwound a single thread from my shirt, and set to saving her.

The cut on her neck was shallow, though it had bled like a lamb at slaughter. She was breathing, though her chest barely moved. Somehow, the maggots that had burst out of her skin had done nothing to damage her clothes. Magic, I supposed. If only that same magic had saved my love instead of that irritating child's clothes.

Once I was done, I laid her down and waited. A scream built in my chest, bubbling and toiling, gnawing at my insides. Mrin was dead. Brett was dead. And for what? To save that irritating, crude girl?

I wanted to dash her brains on the rocks. I wanted to kill her horribly, like how she'd killed them. I wanted her to suffer like they did.

My fingers found Mrin's sabre. I clenched it until my knuckles turned white. I could hear that call echoing against the off-white walls.

Kill her.

I didn't do it, of course. Why would I? It would be an exercise in futility. They'd sacrificed themselves in the name of saving her. I'd be betraying them if I killed her.

And if there was one thing I was good at, it was not doing things. I stood there and observed her coolly, vaguely reminded of that time we had to put an animal down. It had shivered like her, sick and wounded and yet unwilling to die. I had wept and turned away, unable to witness the necessity of the act.

Unlike that poor beast, Athena recovered, for a certain value of recovered. Her eyes opened and her body grew strong, letting her breaths grow stable and her arms push herself into a seating position.

“What the hell happened?” Her voice was raspy.

“You got caught by cultists,” I said, trying to keep my bedside manner. “Stupid girl.”

Well, there went that.

Her brows furrowed. “Yeah, I remember that bit. I mean-” she gestured around her. “Where are the others? Why the hell are we here? What the hell is going on?”

Was I supposed to tell her everyone was dead? Was that the foolishness we were going to undertake now? “Quite a bit happened,” I replied cautiously.

“What do you mean?” She froze. “Oh god. Did they get taken by the cultists? I'll kill those fuckers if they hurt Brett. I'll rend them to fucking shreds.” She reached out to grip a spear that wasn't there. “Dammit. Lend me Mrin's sword. Did she get taken along with him?”

“No,” I said, disliking her all the more for her brashness. All that bristling, that determination, and she didn't even know she'd killed them.

“Then she gave her sword to you?” The disdain in Athena's voice was palpable. “Idiot. Where even is she?”

I didn't know how to respond to that.

“Doc? You're giving me a weird look.” She froze, as though picturing something horrible. Then she shook it away. “Come on, we've got no time to waste. The cultists will notice us here eventually, and without backup or my spear I'd prefer not to be there when it happens. Where is it, anyways?”

Her fingers reached up touch the scar on her neck, and vague confusion passed over her features. “Say, did… Did Brett try to save me? For some strange reason I remember him. He was saying something about… Believing? Yeah, believing in me. Having faith that I would do the right thing.”

She clenched Mrin's sword tighter. “Let's go. I've got to save him.”

“Don’t bother. The cultists are all dead.” I barely closed my mouth on the remainder of that sentence. And your love, and mine, are dead too.

“What?” For a brief moment, her face lit up brighter than any memory of the real sun. It was one of the few times I'd seen her truly happy. Then it was gone under the clouds before a storm.

The storm, in this case, being telling her they were dead.

“But if the cultists aren't an issue… What happened?”

And the thunder was brewing. Still I couldn't bring myself to tell her in a way that did not involve tactlessly blurting it out. I was a Doc, for goodness sake! I needed some bedside manner.

“Let's take a walk, shall we?” I offered my arm to Athena. She glared at it like it was poisonous.

“Not happening, dude. I'm not going on a fucking stroll while Brett is in danger. Tell me where he is. If you're too coward to go save him, I will.”

I sighed. “You’re not going to be able to save him.”

“Doesn't matter. I'll try anyways. You've gotta try, no matter how impossible it seems,” she insisted.

It sounded like something a younger, less hopeless Doc would have said, and that upset me. “Listen here, kid. You can't save him. At all. You know why?”

She didn't, only staring at me with those dark eyes like a charred piece of wood, burnt to nothing by hopeless rage.

“He's dead. Both of them are.” I spat out the words with more vindictiveness than I should.

“No. You're lying.” She pressed her lips together and backed against the wall, chin raised. “You're a lying fucking bastard.” It was as though she could make it true simply by insisting.

She shook her head, tears brimming, the greatest show of grief that I would ever see from her. “They're here somewhere. They can't be dead. I mean, Brett and I-”

She didn't finish her sentence, instead sinking quietly to the ground. “They're alive. They have to be. They're safe and fine and this is just your stupid attempt to freak me out again.”

“They died and it was your fault, Athena. Do you remember that?” I tried to temper my voice, to deliver the news like she were the loved one of a terminal patient. But I couldn't. I was never that good of a doctor, and this was far too close to my aching, coward heart. “You ran up to the cultists without thinking, you got yourself captured, and they used you in their ritual.”

“Brett died trying to save you, and Mrin died successfully doing so,” I continued. “They loved you dearly, Athena. Enough to sacrifice themselves for you. And look how you repaid them.”

You could hear her little glass heart shatter. She stared at me from across the room, shaking her head in tiny jerking motions. Her breath came in shuddering gasps, like a woman about to have a heart attack. But those eyes of hers only hardened accusingly, as though I were the one to blame for this.

I supposed I was. The thought came with a wave of guilt. Athena was just a child, after all. A hateful, murderous, torturer child.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “That was cruel of me.” I reached out to give her a hug. “We're all we have anymore.”

“Don't come near me,” she hissed, when I tried to embrace her. So I sat just out of arm's reach, staring at her. If it weren't for the lack of Brett and Mrin, we could have been recreating that fateful night when she ran off, right down to the forced coldness on her face. In a way, I could understand. I had spent my whole life trying to do the same, after all.

We waited there for a very long time, her and I, facing each other in matching positions. I wondered if she would cry, if she would reach out to me, if that facade of hers would freeze over. For a moment, I thought she would do all three, those black-as-night eyes of hers welling up while she unfolded herself.

But it was only to get up, and look down at me with that precariously balanced expression. When she spoke again, her voice was even. “Goodnight, Doc.”

With that, she left, retreating into the dark walkways of the cultists' home, just like she had done the first time. I was too tired to curse her out and chase after her again. Brett and Mrin had done that, and I knew where it had gotten them. So I wrapped myself in my bedroll and went to sleep, feeling oddly vulnerable all alone.

***

The next morning, when I awoke, there was a corpse hanging from the rafters. It dangled limply, swinging in the wind. The chains attached to its wrists jangle like chimes, creating a melody more off-tune than haunting.

The corpse was beautiful, once, with long eyelashes and a gleaming smile, gorgeous enough to charm sirens. But no amount of smiling could-

Ah, who was I kidding. The corpse was too young to die, too vicious to die, and too stubborn to die. But she was dead nonetheless, rope digging into the stitches I had made across her neck, dark hair obscuring her face, the rock she had jumped from not far away. She was dead, and I was all alone. Just as I had been before.

I looked at Athena's dead body grimly, shaking my head. “Fool girl,” I whispered.

And it was a testament to my apathy that my voice only broke a bit.

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