#gonna break my heart but it is what it is

[hereonlytofeedwormsinmybrain]

Gonna do it for myself just because

It's okay, altough very conditional

My best friend probably. I genuinely love her so much.

Yes and no, but it's somewhat pointless to dwell about. I'm making some small steps to do stuff I'd do differently back then.

Yeah

Single, never been in a relationship beside friendship and I kinda feel I've missed my window for first one. I'm okay with it tho, probably on a aroace spectrum

I feel like I'm gonna age as an old person. I would like to die with clear mind and self sufficient body.

Peach yoghurt with granola

Not really, I started enjoying sports only few years ago, but I'm still insecure about my skills and body. Want to get into boxing next year.

Not anymore

I've never had any physical fight

I like a lot of people, no one romantically so

Yeah, I studied at an art school and have ADHD, so

No actually

Terribly.

Not now. I love pets, but more in an uncle/aunt way. I'm allergic, very sensory sensitive, and leading somewhat chaotic life.

Neutral. I'm procrrastinating updating my CV, so a little bit worried about that

Never made out with anyone, so no

No, I like them, but in the place I live in they are really small and chill, big one stress me a little bit. Not fear tho, and I like cohabitating with them

I was thinking about it lately, when feverish! And: maybe? I would do a lot of things differently if I could go back like eight years, when I was starting my final year of high school. Very different decisions. Would take better care of myself and wouldn't spiral into this years long depressive/burnout episode. Like I said before, I'm trying to do some stuff I should've done before

blank answer

Uhhhhh I have school so probably deal with interior design and graphic programs

I don't want to bring people, either as a birthing parent nor. not sure how to say it? other parent who also made decision? But I would like to adopt one day, if I have this option, preferably older or teenaged kid. Not building my life toward this moment tho

One, cause the other in other ear closed up. I want one in each nostril, but now I'm dealing with allergies and shit so yeah

As in what?

Terribly. Also, kinda repeating question

Nothing really

Don't think so, but I'm also very oblivious. Maybe platonically.

Nope

blank answer

this guy who is guest in my flat rn, really annoying and don't understand "no" in more annoying way, not creepy way. He's leaving tmr morning

My friends, at least my best friend

I like colors in general so baby blue and hues of red maybe

Yeah

Don't remember

Uhhhhhh my therapist probably? I'm not a big crier

Nope, in fact, I'm too fast to cut people off. Working on it too. Only person who got a shitton on chances was my sister up to the moment she broke my heart. We haven't really talked in like. two and half years

Forget

Not really, 2023 was way better, but it was a decent year for sure

Not sure if it counts, cause I've never had kiss with person i actually wanted to kiss, but kissed some friends when I was uhhhh 22?

Nope. Fuckup with question numbers?

I like cooking in general and do it well, but my comfort food I do always when too tired to do anything else is spaghetti pasta with tomato sauce, since I was a little kid

Yes and not, more like life is this huge choices tree, so like every time you make some choice, new options appears. Logical to me

Read some fanfic

Depends on definition of cheating and relationship, but I do believe cheating as in breaking trust of other person who loves you on deep and intimate level is always wrong.

I think I'm more cruel than mean? And often people read me as mean, this the life of autistic person. I feel my core is just leyers and leyers of kind and cruel

No one???? Are you guys okay

Once again, what's definition? But I'm more into bell hooks understanding of love, as set of action rather than feeling, so how do you define realness in this definition

Big summer storm with lightnings and thunder, that brings coolness after warm and lazy day

Yes, a lot! There's not a lot of it nowadays, but I like it a lot when happens

I see marriage more as a buisness/legal thing, but if I'm ever in a long term realtionship, I probably would like one. Illegal for me in my country atm

When a girl or nb person does it. It shortcuts me a little ngl (hoping for someone who would call me this all the time. Spiritually I'm bottom, would love to check it out irl). When guys try it, even in jokes, I got a violent whiplash

Being in mountain. Spending time with my best friend. Sense of calm after big and dramatic emotions or meltdowns. Playing drums!!!! I have my second lesson tmr :)

Yes, I seriously consider this rn! Anecdote: I was a volounteer and I didn't recognized my name on a timesheet and missed my shift (: But honestly I gotta consider it, feels like a lot. Plus gotta check how my parents feel about it, would hate to get hate crimed and cut off financially. You never know with my parents, look point 1.

Yes, cause I fucking hate her and she's my sister's serious girlfriend rn :)

I'm nb, so it's kinda??? but seeing as I'm read as woman societally and describing myself as a lesbian. Well it would be fucking bad, sorry for that man. My guy friend wouldn't do it to me tho, we all have very sibling/familial realtionship and I draw setup for painting for his new girlfriend so!!!! Cute. As to my girl friend, well, would be awkward cause I really don't want to be her "girl-best friends toxic situationship", not gonna happen tho, she's very straight. If happened, yeah but no, love her but she's not great as romantic partner

(Definitions like in 55) Not complete complete, cause I don't act completely myself to anyone, maybe my best friend? But yeah, we are pretty close with my guy friend

Annoying guest

My best friend

I enjoy the idea of and soulmates in media, but in reality it feels somewhat more tragic and creepy. Not really.

Hmmm. Seeing my past suicidal ideation, I would rather live for someone. And I kinda do, actually :)

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. fuckin’ and arguing, fuckin’ again. after you said we not fuckin’ again, never say never, just say what it is.

07, CHAPTER SEVEN. WE COULD QUIT DELAYING.

ju speaks. rushed to get edit and post this for you guys before i go out tonight but hey, they’re even i guess… the love shown for this fic is UNMATCHED, i love you all. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content… crash out p.

present day, june 2025.

paige: yo why you leave?

fr

you really just gon dip like that after everything i said to you?

read 11:12pm

i stare at the texts, the screen blurring for a second before i blink it back into focus. the strobe of my phone lights up the backseat of ana’s car, where i’m half-sprawled against the leather, her hand creeping up my thigh. my head’s foggy—not drunk, but just tipsy enough to feel audacious. ana’s lips skim along the side of my neck, hot and slow, and i don’t stop her, not at first.

i came straight to her job after i walked out of the game. i wasn’t gonna stay, pace the sidelines all night, pretend i wasn’t watching paige. pretend it didn’t eat me alive when i caught onto everything maya was telling me. showing me. so, i left. let paige have the last laugh (in her own eyes) while i drank my way through ana’s shift.

paige’s texts must mean she’s just now picking up her phone. took her long enough. probably had to say goodbye to maya first. the thought burns, and my fingers tighten around my phone.

“mm,” ana hums against my skin. it feels nice. “you’re so tense.” her fingers trace lazy circles against my inner thigh, lips grazing my jaw now.

i try to fall into it, but i scrunch my face up, pulling away slightly when my phone buzzes again.

paige: i know you saw ts

i do something? 11:14pm

bro answer the phone 11:17pm

i scoff, and ana’s lips pause. she pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyebrow raised. “that her?”

i nod, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth. “keep doing what you’re doing,” i breathe out. she smiles, all thirty two showing as she places a kiss to my lips before dropping to her knees.

paige: where are you? 11:21pm

i don’t think about why that’s her next question, i just stubbornly type back something vague.

nailea: i’m jusr out

paige: don’t play w me

out where?

who you with?

read 11:23pm

nailea: no one

read 11:24pm

i hear her tone through the screen—skeptical, irritated. i wait, expecting her to follow up with another question, but the screen stays stubbornly blank. no more bubbles, no texts.

i furrow my eyebrows, scrolling up the thread, reading her last messages again like i’m missing something. did she give up that fast? doubtful. paige doesn’t give up. she digs in. especially when it comes to me.

ana’s hands tug at the waistband of my shorts, and i lift my hips slightly, letting her pull them down. i yelp, smiling down at her when she pulls me closer to her mouth. my breath stutters as she kisses down low, everywhere but where i need her. she knows what she’s doing, and i almost let myself fully fall.

i almost let it go for the night.

almost.

and then i realize—paige’s last text, the one that asked who i was with—it didn’t feel like just a question. it felt like she knew something. she’s looking at my location.

i fumble with my phone, swiping through settings faster than i’ve ever moved before. the notification pops up immediately after i flick the toggle to off.

i’m probably only making her angrier. paige and i never stopped sharing our locations. not since high school when we weren’t even dating. no matter how bad the argument got, no matter how many times we called for a break up. i can’t find myself caring, though. i’ll match her anger.

you stopped sharing your location with paige at 11:28pm

paige: oh

😂😂😂

ight 11:28pm

imma ask you something 11:30pm

and istg nailea

she takes a moment to type, the text bubble going in and out, almost like she’s bracing herself for her own question. my head falls back against the seat, a shaky exhale escaping me as ana attaches her lips to my cunt, getting straight to work.

you with her?

i am. she knows i am. i don’t know why she’s asking.

nailea: why do you care?

paige: tf you mean why do i care?

are you with her?

somehow, the second ask makes me wanna be honest. the messier, the better. she deserves every ounce of what i throw back at her. my fingers hover over the keyboard, my head foggy from the drinks, from ana, from everything. i feel her pause for a second before her mouth returns to me, a measured dip of her tongue that drags the answer right out of me.

nailea: yuppp

she fucks me sioooo good p

could’ve been you tn

but i’m done

paige: no you’re not bro don’t say shit like that 11:34pm

call me so we can talk? 11:36pm

please baby

nailea: talk? like you talked w maya?

nahhhh i’m good

i know everything

you want her. go have her

paige: nai what the fuck did she tell you? 11:37pm

the part of me that knows better says to put the phone down, but the other part—the one paige always has a hold on—can’t resist. i need her to know what i know. i stare at the messages, my heart twisting in ways i wish it wouldn’t. the denial, the deflection—it’s textbook paige. she’ll never admit it. it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

paige: i told you how i felt

you KNOW how i feel about you???

you think i’d lie about that?

don’t let her mess us up

yes, i do. because you lie about fucking everything.

nailea: you tell maya you love her too?

btw her jeans? unzipped

i think i get the picture

a minute passed. two. three. i screw my eyes shut at the silent confirmation. she really did it, didn’t she?

paige: call me 11:41pm

my stomach drops, but i’m too far gone to care. ana’s hands grip me tighter, and i can’t tell if it’s to keep me grounded or to remind me that she’s the one here, not paige.

i drop the phone, letting it clatter to the seat, paige’s messages lighting up the screen like a flashing red light i refuse to acknowledge. ana’s name falls from my lips now, i let my hand fall into her curls, gripping her hair tighter, letting the anger burn out through her.

“there she is.”

i forget about everything else.

the beach looks perfect tonight, though i’m sure cam planned her and ben’s pre-wedding bonfire down to a tee. the weather, the crowd—everything’s falling into place. i’m happy for her. the fire crackles, sending out occasional pops, and people are lounging on blankets around it, standing, chatting in groups, soaking in the warmth as the sun dips below the horizon. it’s almost like a little piece of paradise.

i force myself to be in the moment, even though my mind keeps drifting back to the mess i’ve been trying to avoid for the past week, nearly two. paige. i’ve been dodging her calls and texts, shutting down every attempt she’s made to get me to talk.

i’ve been doing a fairly great job at it. dodging maya, too. but i spotted them near the pier, paige leaned against the railing, maya going off about something the blonde looks like she doesn’t wanna hear, and i’m right back in it. i furrow my eyebrows, as if squinting hard enough will help me lip-read whatever maya’s laying on her. but i can’t. and it’s infuriating.

oh, and ana? somewhere behind me, i think. i brought her here—like an idiot. i thought it’d help me focus, distract me from paige, but now i’m just starting to think it might’ve been a mistake.

“…you’ve outdone yourself. as usual,” rae says, and i snap my head back over to the conversation in front of me. i take a sip of my cocktail, the condensation dripping onto my fingers.

cam grins, brushing imaginary dust of her shoulders. “ben and i wanted something with everyone since the wedding will be a little smaller.”

i murmur my agreement as i take another drink, and i’m so lost in thought that i don’t notice rickea until she loops an arm through mine, dragging me away.

“hey, back,” i tease, waving away at rae and cam who didn’t seem to mind.

she leans in close, the smell of her coconut lotion wafting as she speaks just loud enough for me to hear. “you wanna tell me why ana is here?”

i shrug, and my eyes scan over the crowd until i finally spot ana by the cocktail bar. too far away. she’s been out of my sight for too long.

“damage control,” i reply, though the explanation feels like a flimsy excuse the second it leaves my lips.

rickea lets out a disbelieving laugh, tugging me a little farther from the group, out of earshot. “you mean paige control?”

the words hit harder than i expect, even in jest. my grip tightens around the glass, nails trying to dig into it. “she’s fine,” i say, but it sounds like i’m trying to convince myself of it.

kea tilts her head, eyes narrowing in that way she does when she’s reading you too closely. “sure she is,” she says, dragging the words out. her gaze shifts past me to the pier, where paige and maya’s conversation seems to have escalated. maya gestures wildly, while paige stands still, her jaw tight.

“it’s not my problem anymore,” i tell her flatly.

rickea stops in front of me, unliking our arms to cross her own, but the smirk stays. “mm-hmm. and ana being here has nothing to do with reminding paige of that, right?”

i nod. “right.”

the lie tastes bitter. because even if it’s true—if ana being here isn’t just about paige—it doesn’t feel that way. not when i feel the same sting of her actions that’s lingered all for nearly two weeks.

rickea studies me for a moment, her smirk morphing into something almost sympathetic, but she doesn’t press further.

“let’s just get you another drink. at the cocktail bar. where ana is.” she speaks in periods, and i shake my head, ultimately agreeing.

i let her pull me along, glancing back one more time at the pier where paige and maya stand like two actors in a scene i don’t want to watch. i catch a familiar set of blue hues already looking my way. ana’s name is still somewhere on my tongue, but it’s the wrong one, isn’t it?

the sun’s fully set now. most people are starting to head towards the house cam had reserved for the night for dinner and games she’d carefully curated. i can’t focus on the bonfire, on the mounds of people who would probably love to talk to me, or the stupidly perfect weather.

she’s over there, somewhere, and i can’t shake the feeling that she’s watching me, even though i know i’m not the one she’s looking at tonight. or at least not the only one.

not with ana here.

i push down the knot tightening in my chest and glance back toward the pier, where maya stormed off to just a few minutes ago. our conversation keeps replaying in my head, and every time it pops back up, it only makes me angrier.

“you’re not being honest with me,” maya had snapped, almost like she was sick of holding it in, and also like she was trying to keep it from carrying to anyone nearby.

“what the hell are you talking about?” i’d asked, leaning against the pier railing. i’d agreed to come over here to talk, and i’m starting to regret it. i didn’t want to be over here.

she gestured vaguely, her face flushed with every ounce of anger she carried. “you know exactly what i mean. you keep dancing around it like i’m stupid! like i don’t see what’s going on between you and nai.”

my stomach had dropped, but i didn’t let it show. “there’s nothing going on, bro.”

maya had then laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “right. that’s why you walked out on me at halftime to go looking for her, huh? that’s why she keeps giving you the cold shoulder every time you’re in the same room.”

she was grasping, but i couldn’t deny that she’d hit too close to home. “you’re imagining things,” i muttered, pushing off the railing, ready to end the conversation.

but then she’d stepped in front of me, her voice lowering. i looked down at her, quirking a brow. “no, i’m not. and you wanna know how i know?” she paused, waiting, and when i didn’t answer, she leaned in just enough to whisper, “i unzipped my pants on purpose.”

those words are still ringing in my ears.

nai walked out on me, angry and hurt, and nothing i’ve said since has convinced her otherwise. now i’m stuck here, catching hell for a mess i didn’t create. i wasn’t sure where it left maya and i, but it was wholeheartedly the last thing on my mind before i left.

i don’t even remember what i said after that—probably something defensive, because i didn’t want to believe it. maya had smirked, though, like she knew she’d hit her mark. “you can’t keep playing both sides, paige. someone was gonna call your bluff.”

i spot nai near the bonfire, rickea by her side. she’s wearing this long, heather grey skims dress that hugs her hips just right. she looks good. too good. she’s laughing, her head tilting back just a little, her hand brushing her hair out of her face, and for a second, it’s like none of it happened.

but i know her. i know the way her fingers curl just a little tighter around her drink when she’s tense, the way her laugh comes too quick, like she’s trying to convince herself she’s having fun. i know the way she’s avoiding looking at me. she’s pretending, and it pisses me off.

but then there’s ana. she’s standing by the cocktail bar, her long legs crossed casually as someone i don’t recognize talks her ear off. she’s everything nai probably thinks she needs right now, and i hate her for it.

ana doesn’t flinch when i slide into the space between her and.. whoever. she just glances at me, taking a slow sip from her drink before setting it down. her smile doesn’t falter, even as her eyes narrow, her stance shifting just enough to face me fully.

“well, if it isn’t the infamous ex,” she announces. somehow, the word ex makes everything remotely cordial i was gonna say fly out the window. “you always this bold, or is tonight special?”

i lean against the bar, letting the corner of my mouth tug into a smirk. “depends who’s askin’.” i glance down, then back up at her. “but you? you’re nothin’ special.”

she laughs, a cocky one, like i’m exactly where she wanted me. “you’re cute,” she says, tilting her head. “but you don’t scare me, paige.”

i furrow my eyebrows, but it doesn’t match the curve of my lips. “scare you?” i chuckle, letting the words roll off my tongue slow. “nah, i ain’t tryna scare you. just makin’ sure you know your place.”

her eyebrows raise. “and what place is that?”

“second,” i say easily, adding a shrug to the jab too. “always second. ‘cause you ain’t got her like i do.”

ana leans closer, her voice dropping to match mine. “you sure about that? ‘cause right now it looks like you don’t got her at all.”

alright.

the words hit where she wanted them to, but i don’t flinch. instead, i lean in just a little closer, my smirk widening. “you think you’ve got her? think she’s moved on?” i shake my head, glancing away from her, as if the ocean is more interesting than this conversation. “she’ll always come back to me, ana. you’re just a pit stop.”

ana doesn’t break eye contact, her smile tight now, but before she can respond, nai’s voice interrupts.

“ana.”

we both turn, and there she is, standing a few feet away, her jaw clenched, eyes not sure where to land, me or her. she ditched her drink, and i look to where rickea is, holding two glasses, and giving me a look like she knows what i’m stirring. i jerk my head up in her direction, as if to say, “what’s up?”

ana steps back immediately, her smile returning like it’s on autopilot. “right here, babe,” she says, moving toward her.

since when is she on babe status? was that another line to get under my skin? it worked.

nai doesn’t even look at me as she grabs ana’s arm, her fingers wrapping tight around her wrist. “let’s go.”

i can’t help myself. “what, no hello for me?” i call out, my voice etched with mock innocence.

nai freezes, her back stiffening before she slowly turns her head toward me. she looks like like she’s trying too hard not to give me anything. “you’re good at one thing, paige,” she says, her tone clipped, like she’s dismissing our talk as soon as it started.

i raise an eyebrow, my smirk deepening. “what’s that?”

“making a mess,” she spits, before yanking ana along without waiting for a response.

i watch them walk away up towards the beach house, and when i’m sure she won’t turn around, i turn towards the bar, stroking my chin.

“another, please.”

the beach feels different at night, quieter in a way that makes everything louder in my head. the waves roll in and out, and the moon is bright enough for me to see out. it should be peaceful, but it’s not.

everyone’s still inside, but after i told cam what happened, she offered me two blankets and a bottle of tequila to clear my head, and i, for one, wouldn’t turn it down. i can hear everyone’s laughter, the music. i couldn’t stay there any longer, let paige stare like she still had access to me.

i dig my fingers into the sand, cool and grainy against my skin, trying to ground myself. it doesn’t work. my thoughts are too loud, too messy, tumbling over each other in a tangle i can’t unravel.

i hear the soft crunch of footsteps on the sand. a pause. then her voice.

“nai?”

i don’t turn around right away, because i already know it’s her. paige. she sounds hesitant, like she’s not sure if i’ll even let her talk. maybe she’s hoping i’ll stay quiet instead.

“what are you doing out here?” she asks, a little too casually.

i finally glance over my shoulder, meeting her eyes for the first time since i stopped her antics by the bar. she’s standing there, a few feet away, her hands shoved in the pockets of her blue jeans, shoulders hunched like she’s trying to make herself smaller. i almost feel sorry for her. almost.

when i don’t respond, she asks another question. “where’s ana?” she takes a seat next to me, and the blanket’s large enough for the two of us. almost like it’s fate again. she wants to know. she’s still jealous, and i can feel the weight of that jealousy in the way she says it. the way she looks at me. like she’s waiting for me to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear.

“she left,” i say, not bothering to explain further. i don’t owe her that. ana has work in the morning, and i wasn’t gonna keep her here any longer as my rebound toy. not while i was already feeling bad about it.

paige exhales, and i hear the relief and frustration in it before she bites down on her lip. she looks down at the ground for a second, like she’s working up the courage to say what’s really on her mind. “look, about earlier… i’m sorry. shouldn’t’ve been bickering with your girl like that.”

i finally turn to look at her. “she’s not my girl.” her lips twitch, like she’s trying not to smile, and it sets something off in me. “that all you’ve gotta apologize for?”

she shifts, close enough that her knee brushes against mine. “that’s not what happened with maya.”

“don’t,” i say, shaking my head as i look away. “don’t sit here and lie to my face.”

“i’m not lyin’, nai,” she defends, leaning forward, trying to catch my eye. she’s almost pleading for me to believe her. “you think i’d do that to you? again?”

“uh? you want me to tell the truth?” i spit, and those seven words shut her right up. “i know. i saw it. her pants were unzipped. she was smiling at me like she got what she wanted. what the fuck am i supposed to believe?”

“me!” paige runs a hand down her face. “me… for once.”

silence. the kind i hate.

“you’re never gonna trust me, are you?”

“no,” i mutter under my breath, closing my eyes for a second, like that might stop the storm brewing inside me. but it doesn’t. it makes it worse. i hate how she’s still able to pull at me like this, how she knows exactly how to get under my skin, how she knows how to feel like home in a way no one else does.

but most importantly, i hate that she can do all these things, make me feel all these things, and still not be a better person for me.

she flinches like i’ve struck her, but she doesn’t back down. “you think you can trust her? ana? you don’t even know her.”

i scoff. “and you wanna argue with me about trust?” i snap, turning to face her fully now. it takes a lot of effort to not yell.

she shakes her head, exhaling slowly. “i don’t wanna argue at all, ma. just wanna have you.”

“just wanna have you.”

the words leave my mouth before i can stop them, and i hate how badly i need her to believe me. it shouldn’t have had to be like this. i don’t want to say it, but i know it’s true. everything else can wait. it’s her. it’s always been her. i just need her to hear me, to feel me—because she hasn’t let me show her anything in too long.

nai looks at me, her eyes softening just enough, and i can see the battle inside her—she’s pissed, but she’s still here. when her lips meet mine, it’s like everything i’ve been holding back for the last week and a half explodes. i sink into her, tasting the tequila in her kiss. everything about this feels wrong, but it feels right too. she’s still here, still letting me touch her.

she pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes narrowed but warm. vulnerable. it’s a look i know all too well, one i never wanted to see again, but somehow, i’m grateful for it. i hate how much i’ve hurt her, how much i’ve fucked this up, but i’ll be damned if i let her walk away without trying.

“what can i do to make you believe me?” i ask, my voice cracking just a little. there’s desperation there, but there’s also hope—hope i shouldn’t have, but i can’t help it.

“explain,” she whispers, barely audible, her lips still swollen from our kiss.

i don’t even have to think about it. the words spill out like i’d been waiting for the change. “maya knows. she’s… she tried something out, tested you to see if it was true. she knew i was lying to her about us. i didn’t—i didn’t want that to happen. not like that.”

her eyes search mine, like she’s trying to read through me, and it makes me want to break. shit, she’s so close. her body is almost against mine, and the urge to touch her is too much to ignore. before i can stop myself, my lips are trailing down her neck, tasting the skin there, trying to get closer, to make her feel how much i need her to understand.

“i didn’t touch her,” i mutter against her skin, my hands finding their way under her dress, fingertips grazing her hips. “i swear, nai. you’re it. you’re all i want.”

the words are coming faster now, and everything about her—her scent, the way her skin feels beneath my fingers, the way her breath hitches as i kiss lower—it’s too much. i don’t know if i’m trying to make her believe me or if i’m just trying to keep her here, to keep her from leaving me again.

i look up at her, my lips just inches from her own, and i can see the hesitation, the fight still in her eyes, but it’s softer now. she’s softening, letting me in.

“i shouldn’t have made you doubt that,” i whisper, my breath hot against her ear as i lean in closer. i can feel her body trembling under my touch, and it drives me wild. fuck, i’m so close to losing it.

and then i’m kissing her again, this time deeper, more messy. i don’t have time for any more words. all i need is this. her. me and her.

before i know it, she’s guiding me down, her hands threading through my hair as she pulls me closer. she doesn’t say anything more, but i don’t need her to. i can feel it—the way her body moves against mine, the way she breathes my name like it’s the only thing that matters.

and then i’m all the way down in front of her, looking up into her eyes, feeling her breath catch. she’s so fucking beautiful. i don’t care about anything else. just the way she looks at me, like i’m everything she needs, like i’m the only thing that matters.

“fuck,” i murmur, my hands moving up her thighs as i hike her dress up over her hips. i hear her let out a soft gasp as my lips drag over her stomach, leaving kisses in its wake. my fingers hook into the band of her panties, and i look back up at her for confirmation that this is okay.

she’s lost in it, finding my eyes once i stop. i give her a smirk, and she rolls her eyes. “yes, paige.”

“tell me you want it.”

“so badly,” she retorts.

i move more of the grey fabric out of the way before i drop my head again. she spreads her legs further, just enough for me to dip my tongue in between her folds, and sure enough, she’s wet already.

i wrap both of my hands around her thighs, veins poking through from the grip as i pull her closer to my mouth. i suck a little harder, lapping up her juices and pushing it right back in.

she arches her back, indicating i’m doing something right. “feel good?” i mumble, and she meets my eyes, nodding rapidly. i chuckle against her, teeth grazing her cunt, and she jolts.

“shit, paige. don’t do that,” she scolds.

“why not?” i stick my tongue out again, swiping it through her folds slowly before sucking her clit into my mouth. her head falls back, jaw open to let out some whiny, pornographic moan, like she’d been holding it in.

“gonna make me c—ha—ome quicker.”

when i slide a finger in, she tenses up a little, body rising to the sky, not expecting the stretch. “relax, i got you,” i chastised her, diving back in to mouth at her clit. her moans are like music i never wanna turn off, and i’m enjoying myself way too much to think i couldn’t do this for the rest of my damn life.

“paige,” she gasps, biting down on her lip in attempt to refrain from being too loud. i don’t want that. i wanna hear her. my name falls from her lips in a breathless moan, and i groan.

“say my name again,” i purr, finger curling inside her like it’ll drag it right out. “i love hearing it, baby.”

“mm, paigeeeee.” she drags it out purposefully. it makes me smile.

she quickly grinds against my face, hand in my hair pushing me in further. deeper. i place my free hand on her stomach, pushing her dress up as it travels higher, right over one of her tits. she wasn’t wearing a bra.

i groan against her again, continuing my assault on her clit. “you taste so good, nai. so fuckin’ good.” i feel her dripping from my mouth, out her hole, and i know she’s closer to the edge, closer to soaking this blanket up.

she brings her hand up to her chest, embracing her own with mine, adding just enough pressure in the way she likes. “just like that,” she breathed. i added another finger that slid in with no problem, making her yelp out, tightening her grip on my scalp.

“so close, p. just like that,” she repeats.

with one quick curl and movement, i can tell the tension she feels building up in her stomach. i remove my hand from her breast, using it to keep her legs open as she lets go. she repeats my name over and over again. it sounds like sin on tongue.

i stare at her in awe as she finishes on my fingers. they catch most of it, and i dip my head down to taste that too as she falls back completely, chest heaving, dress disheveled.

i give her a moment before i move back up. she stays there, out of breath, not moving once. i place a wet kiss to her lips, and she winces at the sensation, pushing my head away.

“gross!”

i laugh, and my chest warms at her smile, even through the dark. “you were right, you know,” i finally say, leaning to sit up on my elbow, like i didn’t just wreck this girl.

she rolls her eyes. “i always am. about what, though?”

“‘bout me being good at making a mess.”

[soft-beams]

vi x f!reader

vi loves your tits, she's kind of obsessed.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have really nice tits?" Vi tells you one afternoon as you lounge in your bed's scattered sheets. It's so sudden, so out-of-nowhere, that it has you cackling until you can't breathe.

Vi lets it happen, watching you in amusement as she greedily takes in the lines of joy your face provides. She enjoys nothing more than making you laugh and giving you a form of happiness so hard to find these days.

It takes a moment for you to calm, and when you do, your mouth is sharp and quick.

"What the fuck, Vi?" You asks gleefully, beaming as you poke at her forehead. "What's going on in that head of yours to suddenly bring up my amazing tits?"

Vi looks at you, deadpan, before widely gesturing to your naked bodies. Then she reaches for your left breast and gives it a hearty squeeze, humming approvingly, which has you laughing again.

"Vi, stop!" You exclaim, playfully pushing her questing hands away. "The tits store is closed, no more tits for you now."

Vi gasps dramatically, a hand going over her heart as she stares at you in disbelief.

"Are you really doing this to me?" She asks, her shock feigned. "Are you really closing the tits store to your girlfriend, the VIP of this very store?"

"Yes, I am," you reply cheekily, and tap the tip of her nose with your finger. "So deal with it, missy. Be good and I'll think about opening the store again."

Vi looks at you, contemplating as she takes in your darling form in the sun's afternoon rays. Then she lowers her head in defeat, sighing as she stares at your chest, wanting.

"Fine," she concedes. "I'll be good so I can be welcomed into the amazing tits store again."

"Thank you, Vi," you say, with a formal nod. "Nice to see that you're—hey!"

Your arms are suddenly above your head, trapped by Vi's strong hands, leaving you open and defenseless.

Vi cackles, her eyes greedily taking you in before she yells, "This is a robbery!"

You're laughing wildly, attempting to escape as you yell back, "I know self-defense! You're not gonna take these tits so easily!"

Vi descends on you, pressing her laughter into your own, your mouths barely cooperating for the kiss they're trying to achieve.

When Vi pulls away, you're both breathless and grinning. You break your hands away from Vi's loosened hands and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her close. She comes willingly, her expression soft as her own arms slot around your waist.

"No tits," you murmur and snort when Vi sneaks a hand up to squeeze at your left breast again.

"Yes tits." Vi murmurs back, giving you an extra squeeze.

[luxcuriousao3]

Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his ass as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Т�� сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that elongated in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

[moomine]

Dad swansea and reader x daisuke established relationship

black friday | daisuke

author's note: this is based on the q&a where the devs said swansea was a sneakerhead lol. i love love love the concept of dad-swansea sm!! it actually maybe sorta kinda has me brainstorming another series.. thank you for the request! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) (modern au?) The semester is over and winter break has just begun. You and Daisuke met on campus and have been dating for a while now. When it's time for him to finally meet your dad, Swansea, he insists on getting him something for the season.

word count: 2,661

warnings: no trigger warnings (all fluff here)! all characters are 18+

now playing: Drugdealer, Kate Bollinger - "Pictures of You"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The mall was a bustling hellscape. Packed like sardines, people pushed and shoved as they tried to meander from place to place. The line for the shoe store wrapped around the corner, down a long, wide hall, and into the food court. You stood side by side with Daisuke, your coat rustling as you hugged yourself. A cold draft blew past as other customers came and went through the grand entrance, each time causing a shiver to rake through you harshly. Daisuke, who was previously twisting his silver rings out of an anxious habit, stopped and began running his hands up and down the length of your arms. The friction of his hands sent waves of much-appreciated warmth throughout your body. You looked up at him, a grateful smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Of course. It won’t be so bad once we get ‘round the corner.” Daisuke peeked over your head and past the line, peering ahead to see how much longer it would take. It was moving at a snail’s pace, and all he could think about was empty shelves. In the nightmare of worst-case scenarios running rampant in his mind, the sneakers he had been keeping a watchful eye on for months were already sold out. Daisuke’s brows furrowed as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing at the soft skin absentmindedly.

“Maybe we should have gotten here earlier,” you observed, glancing around at the line of people as it only grew larger. You turned back to your boyfriend with a sympathetic expression, features softening as you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. Y’know that, right? My dad will be happy just to meet you at all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I absolutely do.” He laughed nervously, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using his now free hand to run his fingers through his hair. “You’re, like, the most important person in my life. Your dad has to like me, he just has to. If he doesn’t I might straight up disappear. POOF! Daisuke’s gone, vanished into thin air.”

“You gotta relax. He’s gonna love you, I know he will,” you replied, leaning into him for a little extra warmth.

Daisuke held you tighter and shook his head apprehensively. “I just gotta make sure. I really, really want to make a good impression.”

“And you will! You wanna know how I know?” you asked, shifting under his arm so you were facing him. The line moved up and so did the two of you.

He nodded, eyes filling with admiration as his gaze fell from the line before you two to your face. God, he loved your face. No matter how hard he tried, he could never understand how a guy like him got so lucky. Daisuke knew he was a pretty good-looking guy, but you were gorgeous. Must have been his charming personality and impeccable sense of style.

“I know because you’re kind. ‘Cause you have a good heart and you care so much. My dad’s a good judge of character, he’ll see that.” Daisuke opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a finger and pressed it to his lips before he could. “Hey, I’m not finished. So what you don’t know what you want to be yet? You’re ambitious and talented, and you’ve got time. Don’t stress about that, ‘kay? He won’t care, I promise.”

“Can I talk now?” Daisuke asked, your finger still pressed against his lips. 

“You may,” you replied with a playful grin, your hand dropping to your side once again.

“I know I technically don’t have to, but I’m gonna get these shoes and impress the pants off your dad,” he stated, all proud until he had the chance to process what it was he had said. “That didn’t come out right…”

You laughed, taking another step forward as the line continued to move up.

-

A couple of weeks had passed since Daisuke bought those sneakers. Finals season came and went, ushered out by the frantic wrap-up of the fall semester and the introduction to winter break. It was early December when the two of you finally drove back home, meaning it had finally come time for your boyfriend to meet your parents. 

The entire way there Daisuke was a nervous mess. That anxiety only intensified the moment you were leading him to the front door of your family’s home. On top of the gifts he was already carrying, Daisuke had insisted on still carrying the bulk of your luggage inside as well. With one hand he held his presents to your folks, and in the other, he used to pull your suitcase behind him; your backpack was slung over his shoulders. He said it was about chivalry or something like that. As you stepped onto the front porch an onslaught of barking erupted from just beyond the door. 

“Lucy! C’mon, old girl, that's enough!” your dad, Swansea, shouted from inside the house.

You turned to smile at Daisuke only to notice his attention was busy elsewhere. He looked down at the gifts in his arms, biting at his lips. After a moment he noticed you had stopped and his gaze drifted back to you, offering you a timid smile of his own. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping it there as you began to rub small, comforting circles against the wooly fabric of his coat.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you whispered in a soft tone.

Daisuke looked down at the gifts in his hands, then back to you with a quick nod.

Now with his approval, you unlatched your keys from your belt loop and unlocked the door. As it swung open with a familiar groan, Lucy, your elderly border collie, came stumbling up to the doorway as she barked an excited ‘hello’. The dark patches of her fur were speckled with long, white hairs and her eyes held a little gray in them. She breathed heavily from her mouth, panting with her tongue hanging out. She looked from you to Daisuke, just as excited to see his new face as your well-known one.

“Hi, mama.” You knelt to her level, petting her head with one hand and scratching her chin with the other. “I’m home!” you shouted into the house.

The smells of garlic and onion wafted from the direction of the kitchen. Daisuke closed the door behind him, looking around the entryway with a curious eye. It dawned on him at that moment that he was standing in your childhood home. Over the course of your life, you had walked in and out of that very entryway countless times —going to school, coming home from your first job at that local coffee shop, leaving for prom or practice. 

“Took you long enough,” Swansea called back as he made his way from the kitchen to the two of you. “I was startin’ to worry you wouldn’t make it in time for dinner.”

Swansea stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a red apron that read ‘Kiss the cook’ tied loosely around his torso —one of the many stupid Father’s Day presents your mom had gotten him over the years. You stood up quickly, racing to him with open arms. He eagerly took you into a tight hug, his clothes and skin smelling faintly of 3-in-1 soap and motor oil.

“Haha. How about a ‘welcome home’ or ‘I missed you so much’?” you said sarcastically as you pulled away from him.

“Welcome home, kid. I missed you.” Swansea’s normal gruff tone of voice was much softer as he spoke to you.

Daisuke stood awkwardly by the front door, still carrying your belongings as well as his own. You glanced over your shoulder with a wide smile and motioned toward him. “Oh! Dad, this is Daisuke. Daisuke, this is my dad.” You took a step back, allowing the two of them to get a better view of one another.

His eyes shot from Lucy, who was now lying at his feet, and toward your dad. Almost too quickly, Daisuke let go of the suitcase and took a long step toward Swansea. He extended his hand, ready to shake, and adorned a toothy smile. The gifts along his other arm wobbled as he reached your father, which he clumsily saved from falling at the last minute.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Daisuke said.

“That so? Looks like you got a lot on your plate, son.” Swansea took his hand, holding it firmly as he shook it. Daisuke did his best to match his grip, almost squeezing too hard. Swansea motioned with a nod to your luggage still on Daisuke’s person, along with the gifts in his arms.

“What this? Nothing I can’t handle,” your boyfriend replied, almost smugly. “These are actually for you. Well, and your wife.”

“I think we’re gonna go take my stuff upstairs,” you butt in, looking between the two with a slightly worried expression.

“All right then. Your mom’ll be home soon, dinner’s on in fifteen. I’m makin’ paella.” Swansea turned around with a skeptical look. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Thank you, dad!”

-

Once the two of you were upstairs, it became incredibly clear that Daisuke’s anxiety had intensified greatly. As the two of you walked through the threshold into your room, he let out a quiet sigh —both out of relief and distress. Over the semester, your room had become closer to a memory and now, as you returned to it exactly as you had left it, it had become an almost nostalgic sight. It was exactly as Daisuke had imagined. The pale blue walls were littered with band posters and pictures of you with friends from high school. You had everything you’d expect in a student’s room. In one corner, snugged away and smothered in soft blankets and pillows, was a full-sized bed. In another were a mismatched desk and dresser. Daisuke could easily see you sitting at that desk, engaging with one of your many hobbies or finishing up some assignments. The visual managed to make a small smile creep onto his lips, but it faltered quickly when he heard Swansea on the phone with your mother just downstairs.

“He hates me, I can already tell,” Daisuke said. He carefully set down your luggage as well as the gifts, tucking them away nicely on your desk.

“You don’t know that. My dad’s just like that with everyone at first, but he always warms up eventually. I promise.” You sat on your bed, pulling your shoes from your feet and tossing them in different directions.

To keep himself from pacing, Daisuke took a seat beside you before flopping back into the comforter. The plush blanket quickly engulfed him as he rested an arm over his eyes. With a little laugh, you laid down on your side next to him, caressing his face with your hand. It felt soft against his skin as you cupped his cheek. His arm fell back to his side as he leaned into your touch, letting out a content sigh at the comfort that alone brought him. His eyes trailed over your face with that same lovesick adoration he normally harbored while looking at you —a stare that said more than he ever could with words. He knew he would never get tired of looking at you. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you finally said, pressing your forehead against his. “I love you.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to melt into you. Like it was second nature, Daisuke tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and closed the gap between the two of you. Sparks of electricity tingled against your lips as he kissed you softly. Abandoning their posts, his hands found their proper positions —one on your hip and the other along the back of your neck— and pulled you closer. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips as he kissed you, your chest becoming light at his touch.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, keeping his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he breathed, sounding far more relaxed than before. “So much.”

His gaze met yours once more, and it looked like he was going in for another kiss. Just as you felt his breath against your cupid’s bow, there was a knock at the door, followed by the sound of Swansea clearing his throat.

“C’mon, get your asses up. I’m makin’ you set the table before your mother gets home. I want it to look nice for her, understood?” Your dad looked between the two of you with that questionable face Daisuke was starting to become accustomed to. He then turned around, shaking his head from side to side.

-

Dinner was a surprisingly quick affair. To nobody’s surprise, Swansea’s paella was a hit —other than a couple of gripes from your mother who had grown sick of the dish. She fell in love with Daisuke from the first second she saw him, and she only loved him more when he got comfortable enough to talk. After everyone was finished eating, Daisuke insisted on helping clean up and he did so happily. While your mom stepped outside to smoke a cigarette, Swansea, Daisuke, and you sat in the living room as your dad began to open his gift.

Swansea tore into the wrapping paper, eyes going wide when he saw the brightly colored shoebox beneath. He looked up from the present in his hands, and his gaze fell to Daisuke with an expression of pure disbelief.

“Son, I-” he started before promptly getting cut off by you.

“Just open it, dad.”

Daisuke shifted beside you as Swansea discarded the rest of the wrapping paper. He leaned forward, elbows resting on either of his knees as he bit at his lower lip. Swansea ran his hand along the top of the box and slowly opened it. After lifting the tissue paper and getting a proper look at the sneakers underneath, Swansea turned to your boyfriend again.

“These aren’t easy to come by. How on earth did you get them?”

“I, uh- well, we camped out for them. [Name] told me you had been checking out a pair online for a while, and I thought I’d save you the effort,” Daisuke responded, running a hand along the back of his neck. “It was totally worth it. I got a super good deal on ‘em and everything.”

“Thank you.” Your dad just nodded with the faintest smile on his face. Although his words were simple, cut, and dry, it was obvious to you and Daisuke alike that he was truly grateful.

“Of course. I’m really happy you like them,” Daisuke said. He was practically glowing, beaming with pride as he looked from Swansea to you. He mouthed an oblivious ‘hell yeah’ in celebration.

Later that night while you were getting ready for bed, Daisuke ventured down the upstairs hallway toward the bathroom. Along the way, he passed your parents' room. Through the crack in the door, a narrow stream of light illuminated the otherwise darkened hall. Daisuke froze in place as he overheard your mom and Swansea talking from inside.

“So, what did you think of him? He’s just a delight. Isn’t he, hun?” Your mom questioned.

“Who? Daisuke?” Swansea replied. The springs within the mattress groaned as he eased himself into bed. “The boy seems like a good man. I like him for her. She needs someone who’ll help her loosen up. Poor girl is too damn high-strung.”

Realizing he probably shouldn’t eavesdrop, Daisuke rushed to the bathroom with a look of pride on his face. Your dad liked him. Better yet, Swansea thought he was good for you. That was a better gift than anything he could have hoped for.

[aly4khq]

dragon sylus who tries to train you with his two dicks! (help me, dragon sylus is making me go feral)

You're crying, gasping out for air whilst your hands try to stabilise your body to sit up. The dragon like man above you smiling down at you with smugness but also concern. His first dick deep inside of your pussy, twitching slightly whilst his second one resting on your folds.

"Wait...i can't...!" your voice was fragile, same with your body but sylus knew better. He's once fucked you with his dick and another dildo, and you eased into them pretty quick. So he wondered why you were struggling so badly, "You can. You need to relax, darling."

His voice was trying to be reassuring but his hips wasn't that nice. You tried to protest, his dick pressing into you. Gasping, you pushed on his chest, "O-oh shit please, i might just break." your head lowered to watch his second dick appear just at your other hole. He chuckled, his claws going to your chin and lifting your head up. "Focus here,"

You tried but you were scared, and he noted that nearly instantly, "Don't worry, i'm right here. if you want to stop we can." With a smile, you lifted your head properly and shook your head no, "N-no i can do it—"

"Good."

He plundered his second cock into you as you yelled out, covering your mother instantly. "Oh gosh— I'm gonna die- I'm gonna dieee!"

"Hm?" he rose an eyebrow at you, continuing to roll his hips at a hypnotic pace. Your eyes rolled back into your head, your hands grabbing onto his meaty arm. "I'm going die, I think my heart just stopped."

"Stop being dramatic." He sassily remarked, rubbing your hip with his tail. You sent him a glare, a glare that said 'The fuck are you talking about?'

"You try and— take a huge dick up ur arse and your puss! It's a lot!—ohhh Sylus..." Your eyes closed, that angry dementor only lasted seconds due to his finger rubbing gentle and slow circles on your clit.

"Alright alright...how about, we try one round and then we leave it for the night, hm? Is that okay?" Sylus softened, stilling his hips to wait for an answer. Your eyes opened, full of trust and adoration. "Okay.."

"On the count of 3," You furrowed your eyebrows but went with it, bracing yourself for him to take you downtown—

"3." He reentered both of your holes and you moaned loudly, "Sylus!"

"What?" He thrusted deep into your body, sounds of skin slapping filling the room. "I said on the count of 3, doesn't mean I go 1 2 3. I went 3 2 1. Always be on guard, you never know when I'll strike—"

"Shut the fuck up!" You spoke through gritted teeth, trying to endure his dicks. Grabbing a pillow, your teeth latched onto it, but it didn't do much as you let go and moaned into it. He chuckled before hissing himself, reminding his brain under his breath.

"Just one round...one Sylus."

[jordyporgie]

whats gonna break my heart about this is how Gummigoo may not remember her :((((

so if previous npcs are returning then that's 100% gummigoo in the top right corner talking to pomni right???? right????????????? thats his lower jaw right????????

[shouyuus]

okay so what about vi as a parent…

send me vi thirsts and i'll give u my hand in marriage

OKAYYYYYYYY LOOK. we are tryna hURT today huh. no alright tho like it would depend on the kid. i deeply believe that vi as a girl!mom vs a boy!mom would be SO dif. (girl!mom vi under the cut)

bc like consider. boy!mom vi - always down to toss a ball around, always down to play wrestle and get down and dirty, gets too carried away playing all the time, youve DEF come home to the house just like an absolute WRECK of feathers and cut up paper and like the bedsheets stripped and flung over the dining chairs, ur son standing on top of the dining table as vi pretends to be "breaching the fortress" and they both freeze when you clear ur throat like "uhm... what's this now?"

vi looks at you with those big athena eyes of hers like "oH! welcome back baby! uh this is --" and ur son leaps down and throws himself at ur waist like, "momma said that if we take the bedsheets we can make a castle and a mote!" and vi glares but withers a little when you hitch an eyebrow in her direction "she DID, did she?"

"she also said that REAL knights definitely use rolling pins as -"

"OKAY kiddo -- ahaha, what did i say about spilling national secrets hm?"

ur son just looks confused for a second, swinging off your arm, "but -- but you said mummy's the princess and all this is for her!"

vi sputters for a solid three seconds before sighing and you laugh, picking up your son and pressing a kiss to his cheek, "aww, so this is all for me?" he giggles, nodding, throwing his arms around your neck.

vi chuckles, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of her neck.

"yep!" your son pulls back with a bright grin, "momma said that because we both love you most, we have to protect you with all our mights!"

you laugh, softening as you put your son down. "she said that, did she?" he nods fervently even as vi groans, running a hand over her face, her cheeks a deep maroon.

"well, since you both love me so much -- you wouldn't mind helping clean up the castle before the evening feast, would you?"

"feast?" they both look up, eyes bright.

you hold up the large bag of takeout and they both whoop, vi tugging you in for a long kiss, laughing when she pulls away.

"y'know. you really are... everything."

---

BUT NOW CONSIDER. girl!mom vi. who would be sweetest, most protective, bc you've seen her as a big sister to basically all the kids in zaun, and her own daughter???? she'd do anything for her. to the point where you sometimes have to remind her not to be too much, to let your daughter stumble sometimes, to make mistakes bc that's how you learn.

"but -- god. i'm just so terrified --"

"yeah, welcome to being a parent," you say, nosing into her cheek one night as you watch your daughter sleep, curled up on the bed between the pair of you, snoring slightly as she sleeps.

vi reaches down to run a hand through her hair, curling a strand around a finger, her eyes so soft it almost breaks your heart.

"yeah i know but..." vi's voice is tender, " thought having a little sister was bad..."

you laugh softly, pressing a kiss to vi's cheek.

"let's not jinx this."

vi's lips twitch, but her gaze stays warm. she pulls you into her side.

"you're gonna have to tie me up in the basement once she starts dating."

you snort, "tie you up? please. i'll have to call in favors with both jayce and mel -- maybe they've got something stocked up that'll keep you restrained but i know ropes aren't gonna do jack shit."

vi chuckles before her expression changes.

"promise me... things will be okay."

"hey -- look at me." you cup her cheek; she turns, her eyes a thunder-struck sea, the edge of the world on a rainy day.

"it'll be okay," you say, pressing your foreheads.

"thanks, cupcake. i love you."

you smile, tugging vi in for a kiss.

"yeah. i know. i love you too."

[zweigsangel]

unprotected sex, p in v, praising, smut w no plot.

the room was warm, the air heavy with the kind of intimacy that felt like it wrapped around you both, pulling you into a world that was just yours and his. chris hovered above you, his body covering yours completely, shielding you, grounding you. his skin was hot to the touch, slick with a sheen of sweat that made the light catch on his broad shoulders. the low, steady creak of the bed beneath you was the only other sound in the room besides the soft hum of his voice and the wet, rhythmic slap of his hips against yours.

he was buried deep inside you, his body rocking against yours with a deliberate slowness that felt almost torturous. every movement, every thrust, dragged out a moan from you that he swallowed with his mouth on yours, his lips messy and uncoordinated against your own. his tongue swept into your mouth, tasting you, teasing you, but even then, his focus wasn’t on the kiss itself—it was on you, entirely, like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

his hips stuttered just slightly, and you could feel the way his whole body trembled with restraint, his muscles tensing under your hands. “fuck, sweet girl,” he rasped, his voice rough and broken, like he was struggling to keep it together. “you feel so—fuck, you’re so tight, baby. can’t—can’t even think straight.”

your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling gently as you arched your back, pushing your chest against him. the movement made him groan, a desperate, wrecked sound that seemed to vibrate through his whole body.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, his words slurred together as his lips moved down your neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses that made your skin burn. “i swear, i—shit, i don’t deserve you. don’t fuckin’ deserve this.”

“chris,” you gasped, your voice trembling as he shifted his angle just slightly, hitting a spot that made stars dance behind your eyes. “you’re—oh, god—you’re perfect, too.”

his head snapped up at your words, his eyes locking onto yours, wide and almost disbelieving. “don’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “don’t fuckin’ say that. you’re too good for me, baby. swear to god, i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his movements grew more erratic, his hips snapping against yours faster now, and you could tell he was losing his grip on the control he always prided himself on. his hand slid down your side, his fingers curling around your thigh and pulling it up to wrap around his waist, and the change in position made you cry out his name, your nails digging into his back.

he let out a low, desperate whine at the sound of his name falling from your lips, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as his hips jerked roughly. “fuck,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me lose it. can’t—can’t hold on much longer.”

you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strained as he tried to hold himself back, but you didn’t want him to. you wanted him to lose control, to let go completely. your hand cupped his jaw, pulling his face back up so you could look at him, your thumb brushing over the soft stubble on his cheek.

“it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky but steady. “let go, chris. it’s just us.”

his eyes searched yours, wide and glassy, and he looked so wrecked, so vulnerable, that it made your chest ache. “fuck, i love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “love you so fuckin’ much it hurts.”

his hand slid up your body, his palm warm and rough as it cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “i wanna give you everything,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. “swear to god, sweet girl, i wanna—fuck, i wanna see you carryin’ my kids. wanna see you all round and glowing and—shit, you’d look so fuckin’ pretty, baby.”

his words sent a rush of heat through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared up at him, speechless. “chris,” you started, but he cut you off, shaking his head as his hips pressed harder, deeper.

“please,” he whispered, his voice so soft and desperate it made your breath catch. “please, sweet girl. let me give you everything. let me—fuck—lemme put a baby in you.”

his words hit you like a lightning bolt, your whole body trembling beneath him as your nails dug into his shoulders. “you’re insane,” you gasped, but your voice was thick with emotion, your body arching into his.

“yeah,” he admitted, his lips brushing over yours. “yeah, i’m fuckin’ insane. crazy about you. love you so goddamn much, baby, it’s stupid.”

he groaned again, his forehead pressing against yours as his hips snapped harder, his movements growing frantic and uneven. “say it,” he begged, his voice cracking. “please, baby, say it. tell me you’ll let me.”

you could barely think, your mind hazy with pleasure, but his words broke through the fog, sending your heart into overdrive. “yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your hands gripped his face. “yes, chris—anything. you can have everything.”

the sound he made was unlike anything you’d ever heard—half a groan, half a whimper, raw and desperate. “fuck, fuck,” he gasped, his whole body shuddering as his hips stuttered, and then he was spilling into you, his face buried in your neck as he came with a broken cry of your name.

he collapsed against you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his breath came in ragged gasps. his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight like he was afraid you might slip away, and you could feel the erratic thud of his heart against your chest.

“jesus christ,” he muttered after a moment, his voice muffled against your neck. “i’m fuckin’ obsessed with you, you know that?”

you laughed softly, your fingers threading through his damp hair as you pressed a kiss to his temple. “i know,” you whispered. “and i love you for it.”

he lifted his head just enough to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with so much love it made your chest ache. “love you too, sweet girl,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “forever.”

and as he pulled you closer, his body wrapped around yours like a protective cocoon, you couldn’t help but think that forever with chris sounded like the best thing in the world.

[liyue-harbour]

bathroom lies, party truths

sukuna x reader, college au, best friend's brother troupe sukuna's a jerk at the start but he softens up, a little suggestive at the end ++ sukuna’s in his 4th year of college while you’re in your 2nd | masterlist

summary: yuji's throwing a party and you're just trying to survive the chaos when you end up at the wrong door— sukuna's room. your best friend's brother has always been off-limits, but tonight feels different.

you stand outside the wrong door, hand poised to knock as the loud music from the living room booms in the background. you're pretty sure that this door doesn't lead to the bathroom— scratch that, you knew that it wasn't. but before you could bail, the door swings open.

"well this is unexpected." sukuna stands by the door dressed casually in a hoodie and sweats, his sharp eyes narrowing in recognition before a smirk tugs at his lips. "didn't think you were the type to get lost at a party. bathroom's next door, by the way."

you roll your eyes, heat rushing to your cheeks. "i know where the bathroom is. it's occupied. i'm just... waiting."

sukuna quirks an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. "waiting. outside my door. what, the hallway too boring for you?"

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant. "thought it'd be quieter in here. but if you're gonna be a jerk, i'll go wait somewhere else."

"relax," sukuna chuckles, stepping aside. "come on. i'll even let you stay, as long as you close the door. music's driving me insane." you slip inside, pulse quickening as you take in his room, chaos of the party muffling behind the closed door. his room is a stark contrast to the outside— simple but clean, with a stack of textbooks open on his desk. the sight throws you off.

"i didn't take you for the studying-during-a-party type," you say, eyeing the open engineering textbook.

sukuna shrugs, sinking back into his chair and runs a hand through his hair. "i'm not here for a party, kid. i've got finals next week."

the nickname stings, even though it shouldn't. he's been calling you that for years, despite the fact that you're not a kid anymore. "you know i'm in college now, right? you don't have to keep calling me that."

he smirks, glancing up at you. "old habits die hard."

you fold your arms, rolling your eyes at him. "yuji mentioned you were turning into a bit of a nerd these days."

now it's sukuna's turn to roll his eyes. "he would say that, that brat...how is he by the way? you're keeping an eye on him right? he's not getting too crazy?"

you smile. "he's fine. don't worry. i left him with megumi and nobara."

"good," he says, nodding. "still can't believe you idiots are in college now. feels like yesterday when you and the other two climbed out of yuji's window in the middle of the night. bet that wasn't your influence."

your cheeks flush. "that was his idea, not mine!"

"sure, sure," he says, smirking. "you had your phase. but now you found the right path, right? being quite good in college i hear."

"how'd you know?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

"yuji talks about you and the others all the time." sukuna's grin softens ever so slightly, gaze lingering on you.

the room feels smaller suddenly, the air heavier. you clear your throat, trying to steer the conversation. "what about you? how's the single life treating you?"

sukuna leans back in his chair, exhaling. "yuji told you about that, huh. we broke up like six months ago or something. it's not bad, i've gotten over it."

you nod and silence settles between you, charged with something unspoken. when sukuna finally breaks it, his voice is just a little softer. "so, what do you think of me?"

the question catches you off guard "what?"

“you heard me,” he says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “you tell me what you think of me, and maybe i’ll return the favour.”

you hesitate, heart pounding. finally, you decide to go for it. "fine. i think you're a jerk sometimes, smart, funny and—" you pause, looking away. "pretty good looking."

sukuna smirks, "wow, you think i'm handsome?" then he laughs, the sound warm and genuine.

"shut up..." you mutter, crossing your arms.

"no, no. i appreciate the honesty," he says. "i always that you were cute, funny, and smart. you got the three attributes down, and a little bit of a brat probably."

you look away sheepishly, unable to continue meeting his gaze. sukuna continues. "when you were in the first year of college i did think of asking you out but you know, you're yuji's friend and i had my girlfriend during that time."

you breath hitches hearing that confession. "you're not just saying that, are you?"

"not at all," he murmurs, voice low as he stands and moves closer to you.

now, you look back at him. taking a breath, you ask, your voice slowly becoming softer. "what exactly are we going to do with this information now..."

before you can second-guess yourself and overthink, his hand brushes yours, tentative but firm. you can no longer hear the music outside sukuna's door slowly fades away completely as you focus and he leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. “yeah, i was right. definitely cute, i’ll give ya that.”

when he pulls back, he glances toward the door behind. he reaches past you, the click of the lock loud in the quiet room. when he turns back, his expression is all mischief, "don't need any drunk idiots walking in on us."

© liyue-harbour 2024 (it's been almost a year since i wrote?? as usual, likes & reblogs are greatly appreciated!)

[pmbueckers]

— for evermore

chapter one ‘tis the damn season taylor swift

pairing – paige bueckers x fem oc!dorothea greene

summary – they’ve been at it since highschool, this back and forth, but what happens when paige and thea realize this hometown situationship might be worth something more?

word count – 3.7k

warnings – idgaf abt punctuation, language

authors note – look for more information abt this fic with the link above!! tried my very best to line it up with ttds lyrics but giving it my own twist/meaning. it makes sense to me but thats coming from a chronic swiftie so idk if its gonna be confusing for others or not.. pls lmk but be nice lol

dorothea greene pov, december 2023

if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone i would have asked you 

its been three years since we graduated and no matter how much i told myself the throwing of our caps in the air was it, the symbolic end, i knew myself better than that. i knew her better. i knew us better. because thats not how our christmas break went six months later, or the year after, and year after that. which brings us to now. i go home tonight. to celebrate the holidays with my family and hometown friends, but the odds that i dont see her are slim to none. and shes all i can think about as im trying to pack. everything im throwing in my bag, a reminder of her. the shoes she got me for my birthday years ago, my favorite t shirt to sleep in that may or may not be hers. even what im wearing to the goddamn airport, a sweatsuit i bought at the mall of america with her, and a necklace she gave to me before we graduated that i cant muster the strength to give up. i know i dont mean anything to her anymore, honestly i dont know if i even meant that much to her back then, but i cant help but be conflicted myself, why is it the whole year im fine, “cured” of paige bueckers, but the second it hits december and i know snow is falling back home, i need to be back in hopkins wrapped up in her arms? she probably has someone else by now. no, she definitely has someone else by now. ugh this shouldnt be so hard. okay. just go home, dont get drawn back in. easy right?

im loading all my things into my car, this car, damn we did it in her car too didnt we? see, what did i say? constant. reminders.

its the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass but i felt it when i passed you 

fuck, “snap out of it” i murmur to myself over and over while loading my bags. its not too many bags so im just piling them into my passenger seat as im paying to keep my car parked at the airport while im gone. i head back up to my apartment to lock it up then im pulling out of my places parking ramp and am on the freeway to the airport, a peaceful car ride, that is till i get a notification that makes my heart jump and car nearly swerve off the road. and i know its abt to begin, im abt to fall back in, but i cant help it.

paige bueckers

Hey

Whats your break schedule

read 6:21 pm

dorothea greene

hi.

ive got the next four weeks of classes off but im only home for abt two.

deciding to only stay home for about two weeks to minimize the amount of damage i can do involving her, but i keep that part out.

Cool

When’s your flight?

in two hours actually

im on the road rn

Don’t crash pls

I prefer you alive

i roll my eyes and let out a little snicker, thankful she cant hear, but typical paige having to sneak at least something in. im glancing up and down from my phone to the road, dont text and drive is repeating in my head in my moms voice, but its paige. the exact reason why im afraid to go home.

funny

Its the truth

So your landing in 6 hrs then?

At 12?

nice math

Alr alr chill 😂

How you getting home from the airport its gonna be late

Prolly like 1 am

yeah ik

thats what ubers are for paige

Nah uh no way

What if its a creep

I’ll come get you

no

i cant ask u to do that

u wont get home till like two

(a lie, im overestimating, but i really wasnt intenting on seeing paige this early on my tip back home.)

U aint askin im offering

Plus I want to

hm yeah right why is that paige

Aint it obvious comon

I miss you Thea.

read 6:43

theres an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if its all the same to you its the same to me 

and just like that, those three words, eight letters. that i so wish were three different ones, eight different letters, that im sure shes said to someone else, someone new in connecticut, but i cant bother to care about right now because at least i got something, something to show that maybe she still cares a little bit. a little bit about me. and i dont know if this is a mistake, even though i think i do. i know i do. even though i just told myself a couple of hours ago i wasnt going to do this. but hell, going from trying to not see her at all to her being the first person i see is almost comical. 

okay.

im going to be in terminal one

gate G20.

Damn was kinda hopin for a diff kinda rsp

Guess that’ll do…

you’re so pushy omg

i miss you too p.

That’s more like it 😊

i hate you sm

Nah

You dont.

read 6:49

paige is right, which she knows, and i hate that. that i dont hate her, i never could, and i dont think i ever will. that is what hurts the most. no matter how much i have to remind myself of the routine and how much this will never go anywhere, how her words are empty, only sounding full and meaningful for the week or two we are in the same city, i dont know how to stop. bc its her. its paige. my paige.

the rest of my travel night goes by in a blur, i paid for my car to be parked in the garage, i checked my bags, went through security, waited at the gate, and am now on the plane where i would normally get a nice four hour nap in so the ride would go by quicker, i dont, because i dont know if im prepared to land, to see whos waiting for me once this plane lands in minnesota. but just like that it does, it lands.

thankfully im seated near the back of the aircraft so i have a little bit more time wasting im able to do, i find myself walking to baggage claim extremely slow its almost comical, praying my bag isnt one of the first ones out, but of course it is. curse you universe. im plotting on how im gonna look lost outside, how i purposefully cant find her car like i have no idea what it looks like, like i dont have her licscene plate number memorized. like we havent done unspeakable shit in that car, unable to wait a ten minute drive home from a random bar. that is until i look up from my phone, suspicious because she hasnt texted me about her whereabouts outside yet, and i spot a little ways down the strip of the airport, a strikingly bright blonde head of hair that i would recognize anywhere. my pace, unbeknownst to me, picks up, and as i get closer i can make out that shes holding up a sign. not huge and flashy, but modest, smaller, she begins to walk towards me as well with what i can make out so far as the biggest grin on her face i have ever seen. that im sure my own face is reflecting. the closer she gets the more clear her sign becomes, that reads, ‘welcome home thea’ as she flips it to back that says ‘ive missed you most’. at this point ive completely ditched my bags and have just jumped in her arms, a giggling mess. god im a child. my arms are wrapped around her neck, hers around my waist, lifting me up off the floor slightly, breathing into my neck, a couple of hours ago i said i wasnt going to get drawn back in, now im in the middle of the airport looking like a lovesick idiot. 

so we could call it even you could call me babe for the weekend 'tis the damn season 

“hi baby” she mumbled against my skin and heart just about burst. i missed her so much. i pull back to look at her face, i just want to look at her face, i could forever. with my hands cupping her face. her rosy cheeks from being outside in the minnesota weather all cold, trying to warm her up. and as shes setting me down shes wiping hair out of my face, off of my forehead, looking deep into my eyes with her ocean blue ones, “god i missed you.” she whispered, quiet enough to be heard by just us, like a secret she didnt want anyone around us to hear in fear of it breaking. “so ive heard” i say back to her, moving my face closer to hers, with a smug but playful grin on my lips. and my arms are right back around her neck as im saying into her ear “i missed you too p.” scattering small kisses across the side of her head. on her ear, hairline, neck, temple. i know better. but at this point, theres no going back. and its not on her lips, so what damage is it really doing? i back away and intertwine my hand with hers while looking into her eyes, “lets go home, k?” i say while nodding my head in encouragement, “okay” she mumbles, while squeezing my hand, and grabbing my bags for me off of the floor. shes perfect, for these next two weeks shes going to be perfect. 

write this down, im stayin at my parents house and the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you in my hometown 

im in her passenger seat, like ive been in drastically different situations many times before, as we’ve finally made it out of the god awful airport pickup zone. ive been day dreaming out this window for who knows how long about her of course. because when im with her as happy as it makes me, it only confuses me more. and it drives me insane. thats when i feel her right hand creep up on my thigh from the drivers side in soothing circles, “thea? hey did you hear what i said?” my eyes jerk down to her hand and then towards her eyes. “sorry p, whats up?” because i genuinely did miss her question, but theres some look etched on her face one i havent seen before, and it makes me take a big gulp of water thats been sitting in her car for possibly ages, as im all of a sudden afraid of what shes gonna say. her hand continues to rub soothing circles on my thigh while her eyes i swear are staring into the deepest parts of my soul, i should be worried considering shes currently driving on the highway but i cant seem to care, the way she looks at me makes me feel like im the only person in the world. “hey are you okay?” she says sincerely, “what?” i say almost too loudly, “sorry, yeah no im good p”, safe to say that wasnt what i was expecting her to ask. i dont know what i was, but it wasnt that. not something that made her seem like she cares deeper than the surface level. actually able to tell when somethings going on with me. whatever, its probably nothing. “alright thea,” as her goddamn hand is almost territorially sitting on my thigh now, like shes trying to protect me from the heat coming out of the ac in the car, “you never told me where im takin you.” she states, looking at me with her cute but smuggish at the same time grin. “yeah right, sorry, uh im staying with my parents. i’ll send you the address.” i ramble, trying to get this car ride to go by quicker. i swear shes driving slower on purpose. just to see me squirm. i see out of the corner of my eye as im going to send her the address her hand coming up to my phone, shes setting my hands down in my lap, and then turning my chin to face her, “thea. enough with the sorries. and i know were your parents live baby you dont need to send me the address.” she lets out a chuckle, but not one making fun, a light hearted one, as her hand moves to find mine and intertwines our fingers in my lap. but i know paige better than anyone, before we were whatever this is, we were friends, bestfriends. so of course she lets no teasing opportunity pass her by. “damn,” she says, looking down at my phone, that has our messages open, “my full legal name as the contact name is lethal” she says, looking up at me with a smirk, i shove her shoulder trying not to give her the satisfaction of a laugh and am then playing with the rings on her fingers. “alright p i would like a better suggestion. your name as your name in my phone makes complete sense to me. now i dont even wanna know what you got me as in yours,” i say with a chuckle, but also leaving it on a hint, i do wanna know. its probably nothing special, but paige is right, anything other than my full name would be special. “oh really?” shes looking at me with that smirk, god it kills me. shes pulled out her phone and opened it up to my contact, 'thea 💚'. it really seems like nothing special to the blind eye, but it is to me. not even my full first name, my nickname, with a heart that just about makes my own heart burst. and not just any heart, one of my favorite color, that ironically is the same as my last name. no words are exchanged just two pairs of eyes looking deeply into one another, faces with the biggest grins on them, while the rest of the car ride was silent. the center console of her car jabbing into the left side of my rib cage so my head was able to lean on her shoulder with her hand in my lap the whole way home. our hearts beating almost too romantically in sync the whole way to my parents house.

paige, despite what i knew she wanted to do, dropped me off at home. she pulled into my parents driveway with her headlights off, sure to not wake them, and though the door wasnt even twenty feet away, “im still walking you to it” she insisted, while grabbing my bags from the backseat. i unlocked the door, placed my bags inside and turned to the tall blonde, looking up into her icy blue eyes. “thank you for getting me p. and bringing me home,” i whispered the last part as i reach up to place my arms around her neck, as her arms find their familar home around my waist. i couldnt tell you how long we stood there for, swaying lightly, not wanting to let one another go, with my front door wide open letting all the cold minnesota air in but i finally pulled away looking into her eyes, mumbling “but i cant let you in. i want to, but i cant, p.” paige sighs, looking down at our feet, then back at me, “i know baby, its okay.” she spoke while wiping baby hairs away from my face and once again scooping me up in a hug. her breath warm agaisnt the left crevice where my neck and shoulder meet. i want to let her in so bad, but i cant because i know myself. i know her. i know us. and she knows it too. one thing will lead to another. and i need to try to hold out for as long as possible, as much as its killing me. as paige pulls away she leaves a kiss on my cheek and mumbles, “i’ll see you soon. get some sleep okay?” looking at me with questioning eyes and a raised eyebrow. god shes so cute. “okay.” i breathe out, reaching down to grab both of her hands. till she starts to back away, i find myself trying to hold onto the tips of her fingers for as long as possible as shes whispering goodbye and just like that her car is backing out of the driveway, and im standing under the porch light. alone. i know this scene all too well. we arent in highschool anymore, i have to remind myself, so i turn around and head inside before i overthink, again.

i parkеd my car right between the methodist and thе school that used to be ours

with playlists blasting in my ears, im unpacking my bags in my childhood room, tidying it up because my mom has turned it into her own personal closet while ive been gone, finding little knickknacks that meant everything to me as a kid. i stumble upon a hopkins basketball sweatshirt on my closet floor, i wonder who that belongs to? a cross on my wall from our communities church event. from the same church i went to every sunday that i would always find myself sitting next to paige at. and cleaning my bathroom i so luckily have attached to my bedroom, putting away my toiletries, opening a drawer that still has some of her things in it from when she would stay over almost every night, as im about to get in the shower before i finally try and get some sleep. thats when my music pauses to signify a ding of a notification. its paige. of course.

paige bueckers

U up?

read 2:13 am

thea 💚

nope

Alr 1 ur mean 2 I thought I told u to sleep

one you love me

two shouldnt u not be textin me then?

Damn u right on both tbh

But nah yk I cant leave u alone

read 2:17am

overthinking is my speciality, but am i doing that right now? because in all of our years of even just being friends we expressed our gratitude for one another, but since we’ve been whatever the fuck this is, flirt, hookup, ghost, paige has never even said the words “i like you” to me. we both know we care so deeply for one another, possibly more, but its complicated, our lives never worked out together that way, never overlapped, so we accepted the mutual heartbreak but kept pushing forward with this toxic cycle anyways because neither of us could bare not having the other in our life anymore. did she just admit that she loves me? nah. no fucking way. we say shit in playful tones like that all time. oh you love me this you love me that. but shes never admitted it back, not like that. what is going on. god its late, get out of your head thea. play it cool.

yeah ur lowkey annoying

highkey actually

Alr get out

U love me back dw ik

mm debatable 

Ouch

Wyd tmr

i dont know actually

my parents arent awake to make any plans with lol

Oh so I get u first

ok who said that??

You basically 😊

paige madison omg

Hey that reminds me

You change that contact name yet??

that rlly buggin you huh

Maybe

then i might just keep it

Thea istg

alr alr chill i will change it 😂

dorothea greene changed paige bueckers contact to 'paige 💜'

And I will pick u up at noon?

where tf did i agree to that?

Would you rather meet somewhere?

i dont see where i agreed to do anything with you

I want to see you

paige.

you just saw me not even an hour ago

I miss you

you cant possibly

How do you know that

You dont know I feel

I miss you

I miss you

okay will you shut up if i say yes

Um only if nice Thea shows up

okay sorry p 😂😂

Never be sorry

Sooooo I will pick you up tomorrow at noon?

you will pick me up tomorrow at noon.

Goodnight baby sleep well

Actually sleep please

read 2:35

that damn petname, nickname, wtv it is it fucking kills me and she probably has no idea. no she definitely knows and thats why she uses it. thank god she cant see my face right now because its full blown red, completely embarrassed post screaming my lungs out into my pillow.

i will

goodnight p

see u tmr.

i just snickered to myself after sending paige those last texts. almost shameful of myself. i dont know what im doing. or maybe i do? i think its safe to say my winter break is gonna go different than i planned, but the same way as it always was. whenever i dare to mix myself with paige bueckers and my hometown.

the second chapter of this series will be finishing out the lyrics of ttds (in blue) which i will link once i have it up on my blog! - im gonna try and make this into a full blown series incorporating other songs from the album 'evermore' trying to go back in time as well to give some background on their relationship.

reminder: my box is open for all requests ⋆˙⟡

[inotakumagf]

persephone’s descent

✶ gojo satoru x persephone!reader

word count ✺ 2.7K

summary ✺ no one knows what truly happened to persephone when hades dragged her down to his realm. no one’s even heard of the demigod who made the tedious journey to save her.

warning ✺ i don’t haaate the story of hades and persephone i just hate how modern interpretations of the myth make demeter out to be a crazy woman who is “ruining” their love & hades is somehow the nicest guy who has done no wrong ever when the homeric hymn to demeter makes my heart break. i like different retellings where it is more of a love story, but in the og myth he did kidnap her & force her to stay with him against her will. im gonna shut up now otherwise i’d go on and on if i had my way lol. also like i mentioned in the poll zeus is very much NOT your father in this 👍 i hope you enjoy, please reblog/comment i’d love to hear ur thoughts!

No one ever cares about your side of the story.

The tale of Persephone and Hades has been retold and romanticized a thousand times over, and each time it strays farther and farther from the truth. It becomes a love story about Hades’ adoration of Persephone, and their fight against her crazy mother’s attempts at keeping the two star-crossed lovers apart. Persephone becomes a doting wife and the millitant queen of the Underworld. Her kidnapping turns into a misunderstanding of the love Hades has for her. Or worse, some myth retellings claim that Persephone herself tricked Hades into taking her down below to his realm.

That’s not what happened. As if you’d ever go anywhere with him willingly. 

You’d never invited Naoya’s attention, not once. He wasn’t even supposed to make his ascension to the mortal realm. But he’d seen you bathing in moonlight from beneath his helm of darkness, watching as you flourish a field of irises. He’d been so taken by your beauty, eyes dragging along where moonshine reflected off of your skin. He decided then that he had to have you, and he dragged you down, down, down to his decaying realm. Away from your home, away from your mother, and away from all that you hold dear. 

Demeter had sensed the loss of your presence the moment you disappeared down into the cavernous Underworld. It felt like your life had slipped away from her that day. You find out later that she had punished the Earth for your loss, as she caused crops to wither and vegetation to rot with each passing day. 

You know she would have come for you herself if she could, but Zeus has long since forbidden the major Gods from acting directly against one another. Of course, being kidnapped by an Olympian God is not enough reason for him to intervene on your behalf, since you’re no major God yourself. 

In your immortal life, it’s impossible to remember how much time goes by in mortal standards, and it’s even harder to keep track in the Underworld. You spend most of your hours, days, maybe even years trapped in your cave of a room. You spend every second clawing and screaming against the rock walls, making sure Naoya has not a moment of peace from you.

He is easy to anger, and you’ve caused a nasty frown to grace his face anytime he looks at you. Still, he decides that he must show off his prize to his loyal court, because how many people can say they’ve captured the Goddess of nature? He has you sit on a smaller throne beside his own as he entertains members of his court. And of course, he is always offering you food. Everything from juicy pomegranate seeds to jeweled berries to plump poultry. 

Naoya must think you’re an idiot, as if you don’t know the one rule a visitor must remember when passing through the Underworld. Even to a God, the food will hold a piece of your soul hostage, as if tying you to the ground below. As a God, you don’t need food to survive, so all his obvious attempts are shot down. But you do need ambrosia and nectar from time to time, and you refuse to let him see how the deprivation of Godly food is getting to you.

You’re nursing a growing headache thanks to Naoya’s constant attention and the lack of ambrosia as you watch courtiers you hardly recognize kneel before the dais you sit on. They each have a ridiculously intricate gift for Naoya as they beg for his help with an idiotic political or social issue for their oh-so-gracious king to solve. Naoya asks for your input from time to time, not because he actually cares, but because he finds your growing annoyance hilarious.

A spirit bows in front of you on the dais. “Oh great King. I stand before you to ask you for your words of advice. You see, I have been in love with a woman for years. But it seems as though her heart has been captured by another man, and I believe she may marry him. How can I reunite with my beloved?”

Naoya taps his fingers against the bone of his throne’s armrest. “Hm. It seems you have quite the predicament. What do you think, darling dearest?”

You rub your fingers into your throbbing temple, muffling a groan of boredom. “Everyone gets their heart broken all the time. If you couldn’t tell this woman you loved her before she fell in love with the other man, maybe that’s your own fault. It’s not my problem, so why do I have to listen to your pathetic chatter?”

Naoya cackles loudly, pounding his fist against his throne’s armrest. “Aren’t you a romantic? Well, there’s your answer, lad.”

Naoya motions for the spirit to leave so that the next person can have their turn. But the spirit doesn’t budge.

“I never said she was in love with this man.”

Before you can ask what he means, the spirit throws off the raggedy cloak from his shoulders. As he does so, his form flickers until it solidifies into warm, solid flesh. You gasp. With the hood of the cloak no longer hiding the man, you instantly recognize his soft, white hair and piercing blue eyes as they meet your own. 

Naoya bellows, “What is this? A live mortal in my realm? I should have you strung and castrated, so that you may truly belong here, boy.”

Gojo Satoru points a long finger at Naoya in accusation. “You will release the Goddess of nature at once, or I’ll be forced to destroy you.”

Naoya nearly falls over in laughter. “Oh, I will, will I? And who do you think you are, speaking to the God of the Underworld like that?”

Satoru straightens his back so that he appears taller, and if you didn’t know who he was you would have thought he was a God himself. “I am Gojo Satoru, son of Zeus and champion of Nike. I act on behalf of Demeter, who demands you return her daughter, or else the destruction she has caused to the world above will continue to spread down until she destroys every corner of your so-called kingdom until there is nothing left of it.”

You don’t doubt Satoru’s ability to defeat Naoya, but the God just laughs in his face. That is, until the demigod pulls out his sword. You’ve never seen this weapon of his before. It’s so sharp, you swear you can actually see it cut the air into slivers. If you could guess, the weapon looks a lot like the work of Hephaestus himself. 

Satoru extends the weapon, pointing it directly at Naoya. “No? Then I will fight you and return the Goddess to her rightful home.” 

Naoya steps carefully off of his throne, unsheathing his Stygian blade. It’s an impressive, obsidian sword, but it dwarfs in comparison to Satoru’s weapon. 

Naoya hardly takes a step towards Satoru before the demigod has repositioned himself to the right, slashing his silver blade against the God of the Dead’s shoulder. Naoya blocks the attack, just barely. Their fight picks up after the first blow; Gojo presses his attacks forward in order to force Naoya to default to defensive blocks. Gojo’s strikes are fast and hard, constantly pushing Naoya back. He catches Naoya off guard, slashing his sword against the God’s face.

Naoya screams. “You insolent bastard. I’ll kill you for this.”

Satoru tucks his sword into its sheath. You want to scream at him to pull the damn weapon back out, but he just smirks at Naoya. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

He blasts a massive ball of electricity at Naoya, and you can taste the crackle of lightning on your tongue at the force of his power. It causes the cavernous roof above Naoya to crumble upon him. You know it won’t kill or even harm him all that much, but it will distract him for a few minutes. 

Satoru leaves Naoya under the rubble to leap onto the dais. He cups his hand against your cheek and soothes his thumb across your face. “Are you alright, my rose?” 

You press a shaky hand over his own. “I’m okay. Are you really here, Satoru?”

He laughs lightly, and you’ve never been happier to hear the sweet sound. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You blink in disbelief. “Because I’ve dreamt of this every night.”

His smile sobers up into a concerned furrow of his brow, cradling your face in order to press a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter at the warmth of his lips. 

“I’m here,” he promises. His larger hand presses yours against his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat. You love the speed of his heart, it’s just so unlike your own, so human. “But we really should leave before he collects himself, don’t you think, my rose?”

He takes you by your hand and pulls you deeper into the Underworld, until you stand before a tunnel that looks to lead up. Satoru ushers you ahead of him, keeping a hand at the small of your back. 

“An exit?” You ask, turning to face the demigod. “How on Earth did you find this?”

He grins. “Courtesy of the Messenger God. Even the Underworld gets deliveries.”

You frown. “Hermes just…told you about this?”

“For a price” he says, winking. Your stomach flutters at his casual flirtation.

A loud roar behind you caused your heart rate to spike. It’s easy to guess that Naoya has escaped, and the shout sounds entirely too close for your comfort.

Satoru rushes ahead of you, pulling you along behind him as he leads you away from Naoya’s realm as fast as he can. He leads you further up and up, not turning back as he hastens his pace. 

You stumble on the rough path, and Satoru looks back immediately, grasping you in his arms. “We can’t stop. Come, let me carry you.”

He sweeps you off your feet, and you have to clasp your arms around his neck to keep stable. You laugh into his neck as his hair tickles your cheek. 

The ascension is long, but Satoru doesn’t falter once. He just holds you tighter against him. When you're out on the surface, you suck in a breath as you finally see the night sky again. Satoru lets you down gently, and you crouch down to run your fingers through the dry, cold ground until lush grass and baby blue flowers sprout beneath your fingers. Tears fall from your eyes in joy. You’re home.

You straighten out, leaping right into Satoru’s arms. Without hesitation, he lifts you and spins you around. You can’t help but laugh in pure joy. Your arms wrap around your lover’s neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He deepens it easily, pressing himself against you. Your hands splay over his smooth cheeks, running your fingers over the smile stretching across his face. You nuzzle your nose against his, staring into his eyes as though you might slip away again. Something crackles behind you.

You don’t need to turn to know that your mother has arrived. You can feel her presence as if you share the same heartbeat. Satoru lets go of you so that you can hug her. You nearly sob at the feeling of her warm embrace. Demeter hugs you so tightly that you think you’d choke if you needed air like a mortal. She pulls back to stare at you, cupping your chin in her hand.

“My daughter has been rightly returned,” she announces on the breeze. You know her words will carry around the Earth, until the land prospers once more.

Demeter turns to Satoru. “Thank you, son of Zeus. You will be rewarded for your bravery. I can give you jewels, or a kingdom, or the strength of a thousand men.”

Satoru shakes his head. “I have no need for any of those material desires, My Lady.”

Demeter raises a brow. Knowing your mother, she might decide to smite him on the spot. You lay a hand on her shoulder and beg, “Please, mother.”

Demeter sighs at your pouting face. She scowls at Satoru, but she makes no move to kill him as of right now, which is good news. “Fine. What is it that you want, demigod?”

Satoru kneels before the two of you, dipping his head low. You are used to this reverence of his, but it makes you blush to see him like this after so long apart. “If I may ask, Lady Demeter, for one wish, it would be for you to allow me to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.”

Your eyes widen at the statement. Satoru’s head is bowed, and you can’t see his face. All you want right now is to see his face.

As if reading your mind, Satoru looks up at you. His eyes find yours, staring at you with love that you know your face reflects back. You want to kneel into the soft dirt in front of him. You want to touch, to hold him. You want.

Demeter hums. “Dangerous, son of Zeus, to wish for such a thing. Do you know what you’re asking me?”

Satoru’s eyes never leave yours. “Yes, I do.”

“So you know that you are a mortal, asking to marry a Goddess that will outlive you by ions, lifetimes. You know that Naoya will curse you for such mockery of his power. You will live and die painfully, and your afterlife will be full of eternal suffering. You will never see the gates of Elysium, if Naoya can help it.”

“I know,” Satoru repeats. “And I accept my fate, as long as I can spend the rest of my life at the Goddess’s feet. Even when I die a mortal death, I will love and worship her from beyond my grave, endlessly. This is the fate that I want.”

Demeter considers him, for a moment. You know your mother, and you know the exact moment she makes her decision. Tears pool in your eyes. She looks at Satoru, who is staring at you. She looks at you, staring right back at Satoru.

“I will not grant you this.” For the first time, Satoru’s attention snaps to your mother. His eyebrows quiver, and his mouth softens into a pout.

“Please,” he says softly. 

She glances at you, and you turn to see the mischievous glint in her eyes. “No, I cannot fulfill this request. If you wish to marry my daughter, that is a gift she must grant you. But I will give you a gift of my own choosing.” 

She holds her open palm to Satoru, and a golden apple materializes in her hand. This, you were not expecting from your mother at all. You both know what this represents. Immortality. Godhood. You stare at Satoru, and he stares up at you. 

Your mother becomes impatient. “Well, son of Zeus? What will it be?”

He takes your hands in his own. “My rose. I cannot offer you a kingdom or power like Naoya can. I am a mere breath in your presence. But I can offer you my whole and true love. I can promise that I will always serve you, loyally. As your husband, and as your humble servant. Will you allow me the pleasure of marrying you?” 

He barely finishes by the time you throw yourself at him, nodding emphatically and you press kisses all over his face. Your knees are dirtied by the soft ground, but you don’t care when Satoru’s entirety surrounds you. You inhale deeply, pressing your nose into his skin. He cradles your cheek in his warm palm, pulling away so that he can admire you. 

“My Goddess,” he murmurs.

Demeter grumbles and you can practically hear the roll of her eyes. “Lovesick fools. Aphrodite certainly had her fun with you two.”

[twistedswd]

i'm choking anyone who comes near me i'm choking you i'm killing you death now

i don't know what. to say. who to side with. i can feel the light inside of me both brightening and dying simultaneously

axolotl you dumbfuck ! you destroyed that triangles world view! no you can't save the victims but you can save the villains BUT THAT LITTLE YELLOW TRIANGLE IS ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE!!!!!! THAT WASN'T A PAST THING THAT WAS 5 MINUTES AGO HE IS STILL AN ACTIVE THREAT HAVE YOU NO SELF PRESERVATIONyou have no regard for the safety of everything! i know you're an empath or whatever the fuck but axolotl please let them bash that triangle with a hammer to death he is the opposite of an invasive species but i need you to kill him anyway do you not feel the hate swimming within your heart?

I'M KILLING YOU RABIES FOAM RABIES FOAM RABIES FOAM bashing my head in with a brick thoughts

oh you silly little triangle don't you know that AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH mm yummy dimension mmmmAGHHHHHHHBHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

i think i've made it clear in my other reblogs that my brain cannot put thoughts into words about this fic because it is so yay and interesting

rattle rattle oh what's that sound oh it's the sound of my one singular bit of sanity rattling around in my skull

why is he defending someone who is actively trying to kill him and the entire everything? is he stupid? am i stupid? am i looking too deep into this? am i not looking deep enough? am i simply unable to fathom the reasons why someone would not hate those who have wronged them unless i specifically am the one who has wronged them? do i need to take a break? am i a bad person? am i a good person? do need to take a break? what are morals anyway if they don't benefit me specifically? am i losing my marbles? am i trying to be reasonable about a fanfiction that probably is trying to make us sympathise with bill because he's a cool character while also telling us he's a monster?

i know how to perform a lobotomy! did you know the tool used for lobotomies, an 'ice-pick' is actually called an orbitoclast? i'm gonna perform one right now! here i go! here i

It's fic time. The Axolotl tries to persuade Bill to face what happened to his dimension while Bill tries to avoid that literally any way possible.

This is part 8 of a 9 part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and gradually learning he's literally the worst person ever. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven.

(WARNING in this one for nonspecific but pretty obvious suicidal ideation)

####

The triangle whirled around as a milky white void closed in around him. "Whoa whoa hey! What is this? How'd I get here?"

"Welcome to my office. You're in a time and space outside time and space," the Axolotl said. "Take a seat. I have a very comfortable bean bag chair."

The triangle did not take a seat. He pointed at the Axolotl like an angry arrow. "What did you do! If you don't put me back now—"

"Don't worry. When we leave this space, you will be where and when you were. Think of this like a dream."

Furiously, the triangle burst into a ball of bright blue flame. It reeked of burning hydrogen—the stench of the fabric of reality itself burning away to nothing. But he, himself, didn't burn. What was fueling his flames? "Yeah?! Well, dreams are my business!" A wave of blue flames surged toward the Axolotl.

And dissipated without touching him. The Axolotl's eyes glowed white. "THIS IS MY DREAM, TRIANGLE—NOT YOURS!"

The triangle shrank down. He squeaked, "Got it." He quietly perched one edge on the Axolotl's bean bag chair. He didn't look at the Axolotl. He was staring up around them at the Axolotl's tank.

The Axolotl's eyes dimmed again to black voids. He settled back, trying to look unthreatening now that the triangle wasn't fighting him. "Do you see something?"

The triangle laughed uneasily. "Not aside from a whole lot of white."

"You keep looking up," the Axolotl said.

"Up?" the triangle said, confused; then apparently figured out what the Axolotl meant and snapped his gaze down to meet his again. "I never—haven't been able to see the stars before," he said, trying not to sound self-conscious even as he slowly tinted red again. "I've never seen anything that could block them. Except you."

Except him. The guy who passed the wall every day on his way to work; the eclipse that blocked out the sun once a year. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." The walls of the tank seemingly dissolved, letting the triangle see the scene beyond: the glittery cotton candy celestial clouds of his home.

"Hey, I wasn't complaining! You're the one who asked." But the triangle had already visibly relaxed. He still wasn't looking at the Axolotl; but now, he was staring around at the unfamiliar new constellations with wonder.

It was the most unguarded the Axolotl had ever seen him. They didn't have much spare time; but the Axolotl couldn't bring himself to interrupt this brief peace.

After a moment, the triangle gestured toward the sky and said, "So, you—call that direction 'up.'"

"Yes?" the Axolotl said. "Is that strange?"

"No! Nooo no no. Just seems like it might be confusing, trying to tell apart north-up from star-up."

How odd. "We don't usually call north 'up'."

"Oh," the triangle said, voice small and sheepish.

"Some planetbound mortals do. But usually only when they're—" Oh. "... looking at maps." The world printed on a paper 2D plane. Like the plane the triangle had come from.

For all his power, his charisma, his bravado—the triangle was still just a lost little refugee from a flat little world. He held a whole universe in his hand, and he didn't even know up from down. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him.

"Listen to me," the Axolotl said. "You're in a lot of trouble. I'm sure you know that."

The triangle scoffed. "Tell me something new."

"How much of our discussion did you hear?"

"Just something about rebuilding the higher dimensions' foundations. Which is exactly what I told you to do! You mind your business, I'll mind mine!"

He suspected the triangle had heard more than that. "It's not that simple. They can't rebuild the foundation until the fires are out. So, as long as your actions keep setting new ones..."

"A-ha. So that's why you're here," the triangle said. "They sent you to intimidate me into letting 'em condemn my dimension."

"No." It was true enough that they had sent the Axolotl to try to talk the triangle down. And yes, he would if he could—he certainly didn't want to see all of reality destroyed—but he wasn't primarily here to help the other gods. "I'm here to help you."

The Axolotl had watched how this triangle puppeted corpses and terrified the barely-living into dancing along to his tune. He had seen the dying and dead melted together into oversized composite corpses at the triangle's party; and he'd seen how the triangle's unhappy victims tumbled down into his hell. He'd seen how blue flames flared around the triangle in his anger, and how his lines of fire warped, melted, and consumed whole universes, and how he burned mortals down to the soul with his mere gaze. He'd felt how all of Dimension Zero moved when the triangle moved.

This triangle, this poor child, was a monster.

The Axolotl wore many faces. He'd been a psychopomp, a god of death. He'd changed roles so he could help the dead he escorted reach better futures—now he was a god of rebirth, a god of second chances, a god of justice.

And in his capacity as a god of justice, he'd proudly defended the villains that no one else would defend. He did not believe in punishment. It was too late to save the villains' victims, and no amount of punishment would ever change that; but it was not too late to save the villains.

He was god of death, god of rebirth, god of second chances, god of justice—and also a god of monsters. And he'd decided this monster was under his protection.

Dubiously, the triangle said, "So they sent you as my legal counsel."

Oh, for— "No. I'm just trying to give you advice."

"Even better—pro bono legal counsel!" 

"You're not my client," the Axolotl said. "But I'll advise you as a friend. I can tell you your options as I see them. We can discuss them if you'd like. You may ask me one question, and no more."

"What? Why—" The triangle caught himself and struggled to rephrase. "That's a—stupid rule—that I want an explanation for!"

"Because I'm the Axolotl."

"What does that have t— I don't know what that has to do with anything!"

"I'm the only one who gets to ax a lotl questions."

The triangle stared at him. He burst out laughing. "I think I hate you!"

The Axolotl gave him a wide, gummy grin.

"St—stop that! It makes you even more ugly, ugh. I thought you were here to give me advice, not bad jokes." The triangle made a show of leaning back as though getting comfortable, although it was clear he was uneasy touching the bean bag chair. "So advise me, pink stuff."

"I preferred 'frills.'" Gently, the Axolotl said, "I think it's in your best interests to give yourself up to the divine authorities."

The triangle laughed in disbelief. "You're kidding. Hey, I heard your pals talking about how they can't fight me without knocking the multiverse down—"

"And once they've put up a fireproof foundation you can't burn your way through, there will no longer be any risk to the multiverse if they come after you."

"Sounds to me like a good reason to make sure they don't get that foundation in place!"

"For you to do enough damage to ensure they can't construct a foundation, you'd probably knock the multiverse down yourself," the Axolotl said. "And if that's the case, they'll have nothing to lose by trying to stop you anyway, and everything to lose by not trying."

The belligerence leeched out of the triangle's face by the word. "Oh. Yeah. I guess that's... yeah," he said.  "Okay." His expression was faraway for a moment, as he tried to wrap his mind around the magnitude of the situation. "Okay. That's okay, it's fine, it's fine." Could he feel the walls closing in on him? Did he see the stars being blocked out? "I've... got a way out of this."

"What?"

He didn't meet the Axolotl's gaze. He pulled off his hat to worry at it in his hands. "I have a way."

Bluffing. Or wishful thinking. "No. This is trouble you can't get out of. There's no greater crime against reality than the destruction of an entire dimension," the Axolotl said. "Right now, the gods think you're an active, divine threat to all of existence. That's what this is about. They're not after you because you broke a couple of rules—they're afraid of you." (The triangle lit up at that. Not quite the reaction the Axolotl had been going for, but at least he had his attention.) "And that means they won't stop until they're sure you're no longer a threat. As long as they're pursuing you, your best case scenario is getting buried alive beneath the multiverse's foundation where they can forget about you until your dream realm unravels."

"So what g—I don't see what good giving myself up would do! My best move is putting off the inevitable as long as possible! Just let 'em try to bury me!"

"But it's not inevitable," the Axolotl said. "They fear you as a divine threat. If you prove you're neither divine nor a threat—"

"No."

"Mortals can't be charged the same way as gods can. If we convince the court that you didn't have your current powers at the time of the inferno—"

"I don't know why you're so convinced I didn't have powers at the time!"

"I'm not. That doesn't mean I can't convince a judge," the Axolotl said, which surprised the triangle enough that he actually shut up for a moment. "If you're charged as a god, you face eternal imprisonment or oblivion. If you're charged as a mortal, you'll be sentenced to a regular afterlife. If you give up your power—I'm not sure where yours come from, but there are ways it can be done—" (the triangle was already raising a finger to protest) "—and it can be temporary! But if you don't have divine power when you're taken in, it will be that much easier to convince the judge that you didn't have any when your wall burned. On top of that, if you surrender yourself willingly and admit that destroying Dimension 2 Delta was an accident, that alone can knock off half your charges."

"Next you'll ask me to give up my eye! No!" He was clenching his fist around his hat so tightly that it shook; but that was the only sign of anxiety he betrayed. His gaze was as intense as the stare of a sun. "I told you: me, my power, and my people are a package deal. We stay together. We're staying right here. I don't care how much it inconveniences you."

"It's not about how much it inconveniences us," the Axolotl said. "I'm here for you—you and your people."

"They don't need you or any of your stupid 'gods.' I can take care of them!"

"Then take care of them," the Axolotl said. "You understand that, no matter how this ends, your dream realm will be destroyed and you'll have to leave or perish—don't you?"

"No." That stubborn little glitter fleck. "I can patch up this dump and repair the wall by myself. Once the wall's back, you don't have to worry about your stupid multiverse destabilizing, right?! I'll stabilize my realm before you get your stupid impenetrable foundation in place! Maybe I'll put a roof on top of it that you can't get through!"

"You haven't done it yet! What do you think you can do that you haven't already done?"

"You don't need to know," the triangle snarled.

He had to be mad, bluffing, or in denial. But he didn't look it—eye narrowed in determination, flames smoldering around his edges, fist clenched around his hat—

And then it clicked.

He hadn't said he would replace his wall. He said he'd repair it. 

The Time Giant had said there was no way the little speck of matter that the triangle kept in his hat could be all the matter from his universe; no mortal could handle it without its gravity crushing them, nor would they have the energy to move it.

But she'd also said that gravity was turned off in Dimension Zero. And the triangle had proven he did have the power to move an entire universe—so why should a universe the size of a grain of sand be any more difficult?

And anyway—what did restrictions like that mean in a place where dreams and reality overlap?

"The Time Giant was wrong, wasn't she," the Axolotl said. "You don't have a dark matter problem. You're carrying around the rubble of your universe. All of it. All the matter she sensed but couldn't find."

The triangle gave him a resentful look; but then sighed in defeat. He loosened his fist, reached into his hat, and plucked up the speck of what remained of his universe. The black pinprick of white light. "You're not as dumb as you look," he said wryly. "Yep. The whole thing's right here—all but a city or two. I figured out how to catch it pretty fast."

Catch it? "What... happened to your dimension?"

A faint uneasiness itched at the back of his mind; a sound, right at the edge of his hearing, that he couldn't quite identify but knew shouldn't be here.

"It doesn't matter," the triangle said. "It's about to un-happen."

"You're thinking about setting off a big bang, aren't you?"

The triangle said nothing. He just rolled his universe between his thumb and forefinger contemplatively. 

"You are," the Axolotl said. "You want to replace your universe."

Coolly, the triangle said, "You're sounding kinda scared, frills."

"I am," the Axolotl admitted. "Of all your options, that's the most dangerous thing you could possibly do."

"Hey, the dangerous choices have turned out pretty well for me so far!"

The Axolotl really didn't think they had. "You know you can't get your old universe back, don't you? It will only make a new universe."

The triangle didn't say anything—but he went still, holding the tiny glowing pearl between his fingers rather than rolling it back and forth.

"It will have similar physical properties—it will be 2D, gravity and light will probably work the same way, all the laws of physics will be what you expect... but it will be a new universe. New stars and worlds will form. New species will evolve. Your people will never return."

The triangle squeezed the pearl in his hand. "You don't know that," he said harshly. "Everything that ever existed is right in here." He shook his fist at the Axolotl. He could see the light shining out between the triangle's fingers. "It has to have some sort of memory! There's gotta be traces of it left in there!"

"It can't remember. It doesn't have a soul to remember with."

"I'm a soul!" The triangle pointed at himself with a hundred arms. "Me! I remember! The whole dimension remembers!"

There was the hiss. The ever-present hiss that the Axolotl heard any time he was inside Dimension Zero, the static in the speakers, the last gasp of a dying big bang, the whisper murmur scream battering against the walls. Fear shivered up his spine. How was it audible from within his tank?

He tried to push down his fear. "You're not the whole dimension."

The triangle laughed. It was a chilling sound.

"Just—consider how much more you'd lose if it doesn't work the way you want it to. What will you do if you can't fix your dimension?"

"I can," he said. "If I can't fix it, no one can."

Why did he think he was more capable than gods who'd maintained the multiverse for trillions of years? "What if you're wrong?"

"I will fix it," the triangle said stubbornly.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU'LL DO IF YOU CAN'T FIX IT!"

The triangle literally shrank back, growing smaller as he sank into the Axolotl's beanbag. "Keep doing what I'm doing now! Partying!" He let out a half hysterical giggle. "I'll party til I die!"

"Set off a big bang in an unstable pseudo-dimension, and you will die! The kind of death no one comes back from!"

"Great!"

They both froze. Neither one of them had expected him to say that.

"Kidding," the triangle croaked. "I just—I just—I'm trying to get under your skin, pinky, that's all. Is it working? Don't answer that, that wasn't my question, that was—rhetorical. I'm assuming that stuff you've got is skin, anyway." The prattle was hollow and meaningless. "The point is, I'm the dream realm's eternal party host, and I'm not stopping this party for anything, no matter what you say, and—and that's it. That's all there is to it!"

He must have witnessed so many horrors, in so little time—his universe incinerating, his people dying, Dimension Zero constantly collapsing even as he attempted to prop it up, the dimensions above him twisting and warping as their people fell into his nightmarish realm...

The Axolotl slowly flew closer to the triangle.

"Oh, come on— don't," the triangle whined. "Whatever little speech you're about to make, don't, I don't wanna hear it—"

Gently, the Axolotl said, "I know you've lost your home."

The word "home" struck a note with the triangle. He didn't flinch, his expression didn't change; but he went still. He looked down at the compacted ruin of what used to be his whole universe.

"But it's not too late for you to find a new home," the Axolotl said. "You can still move on and rebuild. There's a future for you. If you come out, I'll help you navigate the afterlife system. If you're stuck in this dimension, we'll find a way to free you."

The triangle's face darkened.

"You can be reincarnated, or resurrected, or—just set free to be an energy being if you want. You can settle down in a neighboring dimension, join a new people—"

"No. I'm not about to be a couch surfer in someone else's universe." He glowered up at the Axolotl. "Those people will join me. Everyone can either join me, or—or get out of my way! I finally made my kingdom, I'm not giving up my crown now!"

"If you keep your crown, you'll kill your kingdom! You know that if you stay here you'll destroy everything, I know you know it!"

"It's the best option I have! Better than your plan, anyway! Surrender to the cops and let my world fall apart?" He laughed harshly. "No way, Buster! I told my people I'd liberate them from our flat, oppressive little world and take them to a party paradise, and that's exactly what I'm gonna make for them!" He held out his little pearl of a universe again, the paradise-to-be.

Before, he'd said that the dream realm was his paradise. He'd also said that he'd remake his destroyed universe exactly as it had been. How could the "oppressive" world they'd left be their paradise? Nevermind the fact that none of "his people" were from his world. Which of the stories he'd invented was the truth? Which did the triangle think was the truth? Did he even know?

"If all of this is for your people—would you risk them? If trying to build a paradise kills the very people you made it for—"

"They'd never know."

The Axolotl's blood ran cold. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "What?"

"I can keep the party going until the end. They'd never find out what's coming. If the dream realm collapses, it'll be too fast for them to tell what's happening," the triangle said. "In their final moments, they'll still remember me as a hero."

The Axolotl hadn't realized until that moment just how cold the triangle's expression was.

His mind flashed to seeing VENDOR earlier that day, hustling the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force to clean up this mess faster because THEY didn't want the journalists to claim THEY had mishandled the situation during an election season.

Was that all the triangle was?

Another politician more concerned with how his constituents saw him than with what he could do for them?

"But," the Axolotl said weakly, "I've watched how you rescue the mortals from the fires. I've seen how you're struggling to keep this dimension from collapsing on them. I've seen how much you're suffering. You're running yourself ragged to protect them. You want so badly for them to be safe."

The triangle seemed to brighten at the Axolotl's words, as though he was soaking in the high praise. "Well, sure! And they love me for it! Would any god do less for his worshipers? Would you?" His voice took on a bitter tone. "But I don't know of any god who'd stick his corner out for a nonbeliever—and that's what they'll be if I don't deliver on the paradise I promised. I take my party hosting seriously. I'll give them their paradise if it kills me. Or them. Or everyone, if that's what it takes."

He was no hero. He never had been. He didn't care about the countless souls he'd collected, only their worship.

He didn't want his people to be safe; he just wanted to be his people's savior.

If I can't fix it, no one can. The triangle hadn't meant no one else was able to. He'd meant no one else was allowed to. He'd rather die than let someone else fix his mistakes.

And he would. This was a mass suicide.

No. Worse than that—it was a mass murder-suicide.

"You already lost your world once," the Axolotl said desperately, "don't you remember what that was like?"

The triangle flinched back like the Axolotl had slapped him. The tank rumbled around them; the hissing whispers grew louder. "That's... none of your business! Stop talking about my world, you don't know the first thing about it—"

"I know how much you must miss it. I know how deeply losing your people must hurt." It must have hurt, why would he have clung to what was left of his world if it didn't, why would he be so determined to rebuild it exactly as it had been?

"My—my people are fine." His voice was choked. He squeezed his eye shut. "They're... all out at the party. Waiting for me. Don't talk about—"

"The people at the party are shapes you kidnapped from other dimensions." He was so stubbornly loyal to his chosen delusions. "Your people are dead. You know they are!"

"No!"

His scream was answered by howls outside the Axolotl's tank. Through the static, the Axolotl could pick up a sound repeated over and over. A word. Murderer, murderer, murderer.

"No! They aren't dead! I saved them!" He curled in on himself, hands pressed to his sides like it could block out the sounds. "I liberated them from their shallow lives! I gave them their freedom—"

"Then give them their freedom now!"

The triangle's breath hitched.

"If you want to die, you can die. There are ways to break a soul. I can help. But do it alone," the Axolotl pled. "I know you care about these people!" He had to believe it, he had to believe it, he had to. In spite of the evidence to the contrary, he had to. "If you won't let us help you, at least let us help them go home. Please. You need to let them go."

He clenched his tiny hands into fists; he looked so pained the Axolotl thought he might shatter.

In another timeline, a better timeline, he whispered, "How?" The word he should have said echoed around them, blending into the static whispers. It would be so easy to say.

But in this timeline, he asked, "You're some kind of lawyer or something, right?"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "By... way of metaphor," he said. "We have trials and courts, but not the way mortals understand—"

"There are no laws in my kingdom," the king growled. "Get out of here. Now."

"But—"

"I said OUT!"

A force crashed into the time and space between time and space, shattering the Axolotl's tank, the glittery cotton candy nebulas' pinks and blues disrupted by a twisted geyser of colors—raw frothing stuff somewhere between matter and energy—and it flung the Axolotl away from the triangle like a wave flinging a fish from the ocean. The anxious background static whispers grew to a buzzing roar, 1000 decibel white noise. He spun dizzily through the cosmic miasma.

The first time he'd come in here—the first time the triangle had chased him out—he'd felt instinctively that he'd been in danger. He'd felt flames licking at his heels.

He knew now that that had been a mere warning.

"I might be in your dream, but your dream is in MY dream realm!" The triangle seemed to get larger without his size changing. Maybe it was the universe around him that was contracting. "And you've overstayed your welcome, Axolotl!"

The Axolotl had tumbled into the nightmarish eternal dance party. Shrieking overlapping music drowned out the buzzing whispers. Thousands of eyes stared at him in horror and thousands of voices gasped in disgust; and he realized that as many times as he'd seen them, he had never been in their two-dimensional field of view.

For all the thousands that stared at him, millions of corpses never stopped dancing.

One last time, the Axolotl turned to the triangle and pled, "Just give the hostages the option to leave if they want!"

"My people aren't hostages!"

"Then give them a choice!" He could feel dead hands grabbing at his skin and fins. He wasn't sure if they were trying to restrain him for their Magister Mentium, or cling to him for escape. He wasn't even sure whether they were the dead who still had their own souls, or the triangle's corpse puppets. "Anyone who wants to stay with you can!"

"Shut up!" The triangle boomed louder and louder and he grew larger and larger, until his voice and his eye seemed to fill the universe. He was shuddering with rage (with regret?)—it threatened to shake him apart, and the universe with him. "All of this is your fault! I'm—sick because of you!" In another reality he said insane; but the realities where he didn't closed up around the word and crushed it into silence. "You made me like this! You infected me!"

"With what?" He'd only spoken to the triangle once before today. He hadn't even entered his dimension.

"This—idea!" He didn't say what idea, not in this reality; but the words echoed in from another reality where he did. He screamed to drown the echoes out. "I was fine until I met you and you ruined everything!" Regret spilled out of his eye so thick it was almost palpable, energy like a river. It threatened to fill the interdimensional in-between space and drown them all. The Axolotl could taste the idea that had poisoned the triangle: the idea that everyone mattered. That everyone was worthy of a god's attention. And now, everyone was gone.

Bewildered, the Axolotl said, "You're not 'sick' to think that. It's the sanest idea you could have—"

"Get out!" The shriek echoed through infinity. "Get out! The dream realm is my domain and I am its king! I told you last time, I won't let you threaten my people!"

"I would never—"

"GET OUT!" Blue flames exploded out of the triangle; some of his nearest prisoners were incinerated as easily as tissue paper.

The Axolotl tried to shield himself; the flames consumed one of his forelegs and ate away at his dorsal fin.

He tore himself free of the desperate grasping shapes and swam from the triangle as fast as he could.

The triangle chased him; and, to the Axolotl's despair, as the center of Dimension Zero followed the triangle, the edge of reality pulled ever further away.

His flames licked at the Axolotl's tail, consuming the fin; he swam slower and slower.

As the triangle pursued the Axolotl, his attacks further destabilized the volatile dimension; wormholes formed where the fabric of reality folded and bunched in on itself and was pierced through. Light shot through the holes like a million disembodied sunbeams. 

He saw one that led straight to the edge of Dimension Zero. He wriggled through.

"Where did you—?! HEY!" The dimension whirled dizzyingly as the triangle refocused on his evasive prey. "You think you can get away from me in my own realm?" 

"Do you want me to get out or not?!"

"I want you DEAD!"

The Axolotl shouldn't have asked.

With a roar, the triangle clawed at him. A thick, sucking wave of gravity as dense as a black hole tore through the unstable miasma toward him. The triangle laughed sadistically.

With one last surge of energy, he paddled his tail hard enough to outpace the triangle and burst free of the dimension.

The ragged edges of Dimension Zero ripped further under the triangle's attack, but it dissipated in the third dimension.

The Axolotl sighed in relief—then flinched when the triangle crashed into the invisible barrier holding the cosmic foam in the space-between-space where Dimension Zero should have been. Like a piece of glitter sticking to a bubble, if glitter sticking to a bubble were the most violent force in the universe. "Get back here! I'll skin your freakish hide and make a tent outta it—!" He strained toward the Axolotl, threatening to drag the bubble along with him, like a particularly determined sled dog trying to pull a trailer home.

The Axolotl hastily backed out of range as nauseating plumes of color stretched outside their bounds again. Blue fire danced over the thin membrane between dimensions like a burning oil spill on an ocean. The plumes twisted into shapes almost like arms, hundreds of them, reaching toward him—

And froze. The triangle was staring past the Axolotl.

The Axolotl turned to look.

It was the most sublimely awful sight he'd ever seen. An impenetrable wall made up of gods, angels, sentient forces of nature—there were things here so transcendentally powerful that the Axolotl couldn't even see them; he only knew they were present by the perimeters of the space he couldn't bring his eyes to gaze upon and the terrifying awe he felt when he tried.

They were all armed.

All their weapons were pointed at the triangle.

Apparently, the ATTF had called in reinforcements.

A god that looked like a hologram projection, the light of its projector shining down on it from a higher dimension like a halo, thundered, "ADVANCE ANY FURTHER INTO REALITY, AND WE WILL BE FORCED TO SUBDUE YOU."

"You can't afford to!" the triangle crowed. "You'll knock your own universes down!"

"NOT ANYMORE."

The triangle's eye widened. The thousand arms of raw reality seized the jagged edges of the dimensions bordering the hole left when Dimension 2 Delta burned down, trying to crush them—and nothing happened. He slammed Dimension Zero against the bordering dimension, trying to crack open a larger opening, and then trying to simply shove the bordering dimensions aside—and nothing happened. Dimension Zero burned; but the surrounding first and second dimensions remained still. There was no creak and crack of snapping lines and shattering planes as the triangle tried to squeeze his bloated universe free. There was no glowing line of fire on the distant horizon.

The neighboring dimensions burned and blackened under the thousand hands; but they didn't dissolve to ash. The cinders got caught between the layers together as the dimensions splintered into layers, then multiplied—splintered and multiplied—splintered and multiplied—thicker and denser and harder—

Parallel universes. Every time the triangle touched them, they split into more timelines, reinforcing themselves. The Time Giant already reformatted the universes most closely adjacent to Dimension Zero. Not every universe—but just enough to form a cage.

The triangle gave up with a grunt of pain. He laughed in disbelief—and then anger. "You were the distraction?"

"No! I was supposed to talk you into cooperating with building the fireproof foundation! We agreed to only call in reinforcements if I couldn't persuade you!" He looked around for the Time Giant, but couldn't find her—nor any of the other gods he'd spoken to while dealing with this mess. Everyone, apparently, had been cleared out of the vicinity to make way for the god militia.

The only civilian left on the 3D side of the missing wall was the Axolotl—once again, stuck in the middle of a situation he had no business being involved in.

The triangle's eye widened further, further, white hot with fury. "Nothing's ever your fault, is it, frills?! Every time you ruin my life, it's all a big misunderstanding! You just keep talking your way out of trouble!" His eye opened wider and wider still. His eyelid unhinged. His mandibles split open and at the back of his eye socket was an infinitely dark esophagus. Sprouting in a ring around the triangle's eye like the petals of a grisly flower, piercing the membrane between the zeroth dimension and the third, were millions and millions of—

—teeth. Teeth longer than the spaces between stars and sharp enough to split an atom.

The Axolotl only barely managed to paddle back out of their range before they snapped at where he had been. A couple of the higher gods caught him, holding his sides protectively. His skin sizzled with holy electricity.

The god militia drew back from the gnashing fangs, then readied their own weapons: spears, guns, swords, a wider array of divine and holy weaponry than the Axolotl had ever seen. The projection leading the militia called, "DON'T LET HIM MAKE IT PAST THE FIREPROOF BARRIER."

"Afraid I'll start breaking things again?" The fangs snapped tauntingly. "Hey—how fast do you think I can find the load-bearing dimensions?"

The Axolotl shook off the gods and swam back toward Dimension Zero. "Stop!"

"HOLD FIRE!" The projected god commanded, "OUT OF THE WAY, AXOLOTL. THE MULTIVERSE'S SAFETY IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR LIFE."

He knew it was. The leader of the militia was so powerful that resisting a direct order made the Axolotl dizzy—but he did resist. He shouted at the triangle, "You can't fight off every god in the multiverse! This is suicide!" He realized too late that that probably wasn't as discouraging as he'd intended it to be.

"So what?! There's no way for me to win! Get executed for god crimes or get erased when the dimension collapses—"

"Those aren't your only choices!" The Axolotl could see the fangs slowly, slowly curling up in his peripheral vision, and pretended he didn't. "It's not too late for you to stand down—!"

"I can't!" A wave of fire blazed up the teeth of the Dream Realm. He held up a fist, and it was far too small for any of the gods, so mighty and large, to see what he held; but the Axolotl knew. "If I don't get a happy ending, why shouldn't I burn the rest of you down with me?! At least I'll accomplish one thing before I go!" His hand began glowing as energy began gathering around the tiny seed of a big bang.

"Do you want your worshipers to remember you as a monster in their last moments?!"

"Better a monster than a LOSER!" His laugh was a strained subsonic roar. "Are fame and infamy really that different?! At least they'll be thinking about me at the end!"

"It would make you a terrible party host!"

The Axolotl didn't know what had possessed him to say that. Apparently the triangle didn't know what to make of it either, because he froze, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare.

But it worked. He snapped out of his rage. The light gathering around the remains of Dimension 2 Delta went dark. For a moment, he was frozen, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare; and then he laughed again, just as strained, much weaker. The borders of Dimension Zero shuddered with his laughter. "Fair enough!" The appendages stretching out into the third dimension lost definition. "Fair enough." He glowered tiredly at the god militia—but raised his hands in surrender. Both his palms were empty.

The trembling fangs dissolved as they retracted. The whole paradoxical mass sagged sluggishly back into the crawlspace underneath reality.

One by one, the god militia slowly lowered their weapons.

The Axolotl's heart was still hammering in his chest; and only then did it register that he'd nearly been eaten by an entire dimension.

Where had his power come from? How had the triangle done all this—made his whole dimension vanish without a trace, shoved an entire plane inside a point, gained complete control over it all...

He really did have complete control over the entire universe that had formed inside Dimension Zero—didn't he?

And to control an entire universe, he needed to have an entire universe's worth of energy.

Dimension 2 Delta had been an entire universe. And now—all of its energy was in Dimension Zero.

With the triangle.

As he watched the triangle wincing in pain as the Dream Realm sank back into place, as though the triangle could feel the way the edges of the neighboring dimensions dug into the frothing chaos, the Axolotl whispered, "Oh, no. What have you done?"

His power had come from his own universe. He had devoured it. He'd made it part of him.

All that energy wasn't stored inside the triangle's body—but the Axolotl had been wrong to think that the triangle was the body in the first place. The triangle was only the face: the eye, the mouth, the mind. The part of the Dream Realm that could speak.

The Dream Realm was the anglerfish—and the triangle was its pretty golden glowing lure. They were all one monster.

The triangle was slumped in defeat, but still he shot the Axolotl a tired glare. The hissing static whispers rose up around him again, spilling out of the Dream Realm. (The whispers, too, were a part of the triangle.) "Who are you to judge," he muttered. "You weren't there."

No, he wasn't. He'd gotten here too late.

Behind the Axolotl, the god projection said curtly, "APPREHEND THE TRIANGLE WHILE HE'S COMPLIANT."

The Axolotl whirled around, eyes glowing with rage. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" The gods who had started moving toward Dimension Zero froze again.

"HE'S A THREAT TO THE MULTIVERSE!"

"He stood down!" 

"HE'S PROVEN WILLING TO DESTROY REALITY. HE COULD EASILY CHOOSE TO AGAIN." The higher dimensional projector turned to project straight at the Axolotl, dazzling him even through his shut eyes, shining straight into his brain. "STAND. ASIDE."

"No." The Axolotl tensed his muscles against the compulsion to obey. "He was a threat to the multiverse. Once the last walls are closed over the crawlspace, he won't be anymore. If he doesn't make a move between now and then, you have no grounds to pursue him." It was a little easier the second time to resist the higher god's command. "So if you do follow him out of the third dimension to capture him, you're trespassing in a new god's sovereign territory to make an illegal arrest outside your jurisdiction!"

"HE'S MASSACRED TEN DIMENSIONS AND TRIED TO DESTROY MORE. THERE ISN'T A COURT IN REALITY THAT WOULD CONSIDER PURSUING HIM UNJUSTIFIED."

"I know a few."

"YOU'RE DEFENDING A DIVINE MENACE. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

He quietly kissed his career prospects goodbye as he watched himself do the stupidest thing he'd ever done. "I'm the Axolotl," said the Axolotl, "and I'm his lawyer!"

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 8 of a 9 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting the last chapter next week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl deal with having gotten his heart broken by this sweet little triangle who actually isn't sweet.

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Eight of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: this was The Big One, gang. And now I expect for the next several months I'm gonna get comments from y'all rereading earlier chapters going HOLD ON WAS THIS LINE FORESHADOWING THAT LITERALLY THE ENTIRE NIGHTMARE REALM IS PART OF BILL? And the answer is: yes. yes it was. Looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!! 💕

also this was THE absolute hardest chapter to write, goddamn.)

[starl1tt]

yall please im tired my multishipper heart is breaking i feel like a child of divorce right now WHY ARE WE FIGHTING!!!

first of all… the epilogue aint even out yet and everyone and they mamas are complaining abt izuocha being canon. first off, nothing is confirmed. a handshake and blushing isn’t confirming anything!! second of all, even if it is canon, so what?!

the argue of it ruining ochako’s character development is not only so untrue, but just plain stupid. a major point of toga and ochako’s interactions and overall relationship is that ochako shouldn’t hide her feelings and that toga showed her that. even if the panel is a love confession, that just continues her character development because hiding her feelings also included her feelings for izuku.

im not saying that there wasn’t a possibility of ochako being in love with toga, im saying that you guys missed one of the most beautiful parts of such a complex relationship. also toga is DEAD. and it happened over 10 YEARS AGO!! She is allowed to move on. Like I’m a Togachako truther okay, but I do believe it could be seen as her pushing Ochako to move on, and also be in touch with her feelings. It doesn’t mean that it couldn’t have happened in another life.

I like the idea of her getting to move on with her life. And finally feeling like she doesn’t have to hide her feelings. Also, she’s at a state where she’s financially and mentally stable. I don’t really see how that would be a bad place to have a relationship.

And on the topic of Izuku, you guys.. and im gonna hold your hand when I say this..

as someone who also ships bkdk

Bakudeku had ZERO chance of becoming canon. Rarely will you see in a shonen anime a well written queer character, let alone queer relationship. You could argue that Toga was, but it doesn’t really seem like that was the idea he had in mind for Izuku.

ALSO IM GONNA SAY THIS AGAIN. NOTHING IS CONFIRMED!!! IM SAYING THIS IN THE POSSIBILITY THAT IT IS CONFIRMED.

also who the fuck made up the rumour that bakugo had a wife? like I have seen NOTHING confirming that out of all of the leaks.

lowkey.. if izuocha does become canon.. horikoshi make krbk canon and my life is yours 🙏🙏

(i love bkdk to death but my 2020 heart will always remain with krbk im sorry yall)

[posalis]

I still can't get over the fact that jayce crying happened after he hallucinated Mel morphing into Viktor, not before like it was shown in the episode. He has no tear stain in the sequence where he looks at them and doesn't look shaken despite apparently crying just before (we know that bc he's literally holding himself the same way). So it makes way more sense in that order narratively.

And it breaks my heart so much. During the whole scene he just keeps having auditory hallucinations about his mistakes and things that went wrong (through Mel, Heimerdinger and himself) and what brings him to tears is seeing Viktor. This is the only moment Jayce is showed "thinking" about him. We don't hear him or see another hallucination. So many regrets and he's there, down that pit, alone, probably thinking he's gonna die. And Viktor is what makes him break into tears. The first and only time we actually see Jayce cry.

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

"hi, I'm gojo, your favorite sorcerer, and I think shoko is gonna be the drunkest tonight."

if shoko ieiri has one undeniable talent, it's bringing people together—though her plans often border on catastrophic. so when yaga steps out of class to take a call, you aren't surprised to see a sly grin spread menacingly across her face. turning in her seat, she wastes no time laying out this week's plan—meticulously crafted, as always.

she breaks it down into a comprehensive, four-step process:

convince her older cousin to buy her alcohol tomorrow during her family’s visit

sneak said alcohol into the school and stash it under her bed

host a party in her dorm friday night while yaga is away overnight

blackout.

you and gojo exchange amused glances, already on board. shoko's plans are always a healthy mix of brilliance and disaster. geto, predictably, looks hesitant.

"is this really a good idea?" he asks, brow furrowing. "what if something goes wrong? most of the tokyo staff will be gone with yaga. no one will be here to help."

shoko leans back smugly, her arms crossed. "and that's why I'm a seasoned expert in reversed curse techniques. relax, geto. that's literally my whole thing."

geto rolls his eyes but doesn't argue further.

"don't fret, suguboo!" gojo interjects, puffing out his chest dramatically. "they call me the strongest for a reason. I'll take care of you when you inevitably get wasted." he flutters his snowy-white eyelashes for emphasis.

geto deadpans. "me?"

"you heard me. waaastee—" gojo drags out the word, but the sound of yaga’s approaching footsteps cuts him off.

you react instinctively, smacking the back of his head. "quiet, idiot."

by friday, the plan had unfolded without a hitch. well, almost—gojo got smacked up several more times for being oblivious, and shoko nearly had a heart attack when one of the shopping bags threatened to burst under the weight of the bottles on school grounds. still, by the time you helped her stash the loot, everything was ready for what she dubbed "operation blackout."

at 9:44 pm, shoko's message pops up in the group chat:

Ieiri Shoko | Today at 9:44 PM evrybdy head over!! 🥂

when you open the door to her dorm, you’re immediately struck by the startling transformation. the normally cluttered space was spotless, the floor gleaming as if polished. a low table sits in the center of the room, draped in a burgundy tablecloth and surrounded by eight matching cushions. twinkling lights crisscross the ceiling, and the scent of something delicious wafts from the kitchenette, where shoko is bent over the stove.

utahime stands at the counter, pouring drinks from a tall pitcher into glasses. an empty sake bottle sits beside her.

"wow, you aren't playing around, sho," you say, stepping closer.

shoko spins around, startled. "shit, don't sneak up on me like that! almost dropped a bowl."

you smirk, peeking at the tray she's prepared. perfectly arranged katsudon bowls—crispy fried pork over rice, garnished with scallions.

"well, don't just stand there," shoko says, snapping you out of your awe. "make yourself useful. operation blackout starts with a heavy meal and a sake cocktail to warm us up."

"yes, ma'am." you salute before obediently grabbing the tray carefully from her outstretched hands to place at the table.

the gang filters in one by one, each person reacting with impressed remarks at the eloquent setup.

"I thought this was going to be a trashy frat-party experience," mei mei said, sliding into the last open seat. "this actually warrants my attendance."

utahime scoffs, "backhanded compliments are your specialty, huh?"

"I mean," gojo chimes in, grinning, "considering shoko's goal of total blackout, I figured we'd be doing keg stands before forcing suguru to let us ride rainbow dragon to mcdonald's at three am."

"as if," geto mutters.

nanami raises an eyebrow. "keg stands, gojo really? this isn't some coming-of-age teen drama, you watch way too much tv."

gojo glares, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "you never know."

haibara jumps in, grinning brightly. "kento, hush! anyway, great job tonight, shoko! this is amazing."

"I second that," you say, pulling out your phone. "and to commemorate the night, let's make a bet. let's each record a video saying who we think will get the drunkest tonight. we'll review the footage later to see who was right. deal?"

with this group's competitive streak, everyone immediately agrees.

you prop your phone against the bathroom sink, angling it perfectly. with a satisfied nod, you return to the others in the dorm. "alright, who wants to start?"

"ME! ME! ME! ME!," gojo's hand shoots up, waving frantically.

you catch nanami's exaggerated eye roll and laugh, "alright, satoru, the floor is yours."

00:03 ==⬤---------------------- 04:01  ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻  gojo: "...and we're live! hi, I'm gojo, your favorite sorcerer, and I think shoko is gonna be the drunkest tonight. I mean, c'mon—she's literally an aspiring alcoholic!"

geto: "hello, viewers. geto suguru here. my prediction? gojo will be the drunkest. sure, he's got impressive stamina in combat, but let's be real—that doesn't translate to drinking."

you: "hey, y'all! it's me. so, I know gojo's gonna be the drunkest tonight. he's giving strong lightweight energy."

nanami: "to whom it may concern, my name is nanami kento, and I believe yu haibara will be the drunkest tonight. right now, I confidently estimate my prediction to be of 70% certainty."

haibara: "haibara here! after careful consideration, I think our dear host, shoko ieiri, will be the drunkest tonight. she literally said she wants to black out!"

shoko: "the moment you've all been waiting for—ieiri shoko: sorcerer, host, chef, and event planner extraordinaire. holding for applause... okay, I'm predicting utahime or gojo will be the drunkest tonight. they're both way too hot-headed and competitive."

utahime: "h-hi! I'm iori utahime, and I think gojo's gonna be the drunkest tonight. he's always bragging about being the strongest, but that can only get him so far. so I guarantee he'll be the weakest tonight."

mei mei: "they saved the best for last. I'm mei mei, and I think sweet utahime is going to be the drunkest tonight. low tolerance vibes. and with that, let's reconvene later for updates..." 04:01 =================⬤ 04:01  ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

when mei mei returns your phone, shoko has already begun her toast to the evening. "here's to a messy, sloppy, drunken night," she says, raising her glass. "may I be passed out on the grass by four am!"

utahime doubles over laughing as everyone clinks glasses. the bitter, tangy scent of sake fills the air as the group shouts, "cheers!"

the conversation drifts into speculative territory as gojo leads a heated discussion about principal yaga's alleged secret love child. evidence cited includes muffled crying or squealing sounds overheard from his office and trashed crib packaging. the theory dies down as the meal takes center stage. the katsudon, perfectly seasoned and artfully plated, is a hit—a warm, savory comfort that pairs too well with the strong drinks.

plates empty and glasses drained, you observe the scene. gojo, is even chattier than usual, his words tumbling over each other at lightning speed. haibara's cheeks glow tomato red, and utahime twirls a braid around her finger, sneaking glances at shoko. very, very interesting.

meanwhile, shoko, geto, mei mei, and nanami seem relatively unaffected—or are just better at hiding it. you decide it's time to turn up the chaos.

"guys!" you tap your glass with a pair of chopsticks, drawing their attention. "we still have four bottles of tequila to get through. who's up for a drinking game of truth or dare?"

the suggestion is met with enthusiastic cheers from shoko, gojo, mei mei, and utahime. haibara looks excited but hesitant, while geto and nanami exchange weary glances, clearly bracing for disaster.

"as host," shoko declares, waving her chopsticks like a wand, "I command full participation. let me pour some shots. who needs a mixed drink?"

shoko and utahime get to work. plates are cleared and replaced with a neat line of shots. utahime's heavy-handed pours prompt a dramatic gasp from mei mei.

"damn, 'hime," mei mei says, inspecting the shots. "you trying to kill us?"

shoko returns with two mixed drinks, sliding them toward haibara and nanami. "classiest of the group," you mutter with a grin.

you smooth your hands over your hair, leaning forward to begin the game. "alright, let's start this right. host sho—truth or dare?"

"dare, duh," shoko replies instantly.

"hmmm..." you glance at gojo. "what did you bring as a chaser?"

with a flourish, gojo pulls a bottle from beneath the table. "strawberry ramune, my favorite~ why?"

"perfect. shoko, I dare you to drink gojo's chaser."

shoko grabs the bottle without hesitation, but just as she tilts it, you interrupt.

"oh, by the way—gojo adds five packets of sugar to sweeten his ramune."

the table erupts in laughter. nanami smirks, and shoko sputters as she swallows the disgustingly sweet concoction.

"blegh!" shoko slams the bottle down, grimacing. "gojo, who does this shit?!"

reaching for a shot, she drowns it in one go—and then grabs another.

"two shots to chase ramune?" haibara asks, incredulous as he shrugs off his sweater. "that bad?"

"it was that bad," shoko confirms, her voice muffled as she pours herself another drink.

"let's..." shoko wipes her tongue with a napkin, grimacing. "let's just move on. I'm asking... geto. truth or dare?"

"after witnessing... whatever that was," geto gestures vaguely toward shoko's earlier tequila ordeal, "I'm gonna play it safe and go with truth."

shoko grins mischievously, tilting her head as she looks geto up and down. "okayyy," she drawls, clearly deep in thought. "hmm... got it! you're the only guy here with ear piercings—such a bad boy," she teases, earning a visible cringe from geto. "so my question is: do you have any other piercings we don't know about?"

you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. as close as you are to geto, you already know the answer. he's going to drink.

sure enough, geto opens his mouth to respond but then, without a word, picks up a shot and downs it in one smooth motion.

"WHAT?!" shoko shrieks, half outraged, half delighted.

"naughty," mei mei murmurs, leaning her chin into her palm, her smirk growing wider.

"sugu's such a tease. its just a—" gojo starts, but you slam your hand over his mouth before he can spill the details.

"don't you dare," you hiss.

gojo bites your palm in retaliation, but you refuse to let go, glaring at him.

geto clears his throat, grimacing slightly at the tequila's burn. "and there's my cue to move on," he says, brushing past the topic. "since satoru seems eager to air out my business—truth or dare?"

you cautiously release your hand from gojo's mouth, glancing at the raw bite marks on your palm. gojo scratches his chin dramatically, as if pondering some great mystery, then grins, his azure eyes lighting up.

"dare! cuz I'm not a pussy".

geto laughs, unbothered by the jab. "alright, satoru. this one's easy—I dare you to eat all the scallions you picked off your food."

the table collectively turns to look at gojo's napkin, overflowing with at least twenty pieces of scallion he meticulously removed.

"suguruuuu," gojo whines, slumping in defeat.

geto merely slides him a shot, patting his fluffy white hair. gojo glares at the drink, nose wrinkling as he takes a tentative sip. he shudders visibly, sticking out his tongue. "so gross."

as he sets the glass down, his eyes narrow. he scans the group, zeroing in on utahime, who's laughing a little too hard at this expense.

"utahime," he announces, and her grin instantly vanishes. "yeah, not so funny now, huh? truth or dare?"

she groans. "ugh, truth"

gojo clasps his hands together like an evil mastermind, his grin nothing short of diabolic. "who here, out of all of us, would you say is the weakest link in jujutsu society?"

"uncalled for," you mutter, yanking on his ear like a scolding parent.

"stop picking on her, satoru." shoko adds, rolling her eyes.

but utahime surprises everyone by taking it in stride. she lifts a shot, downs it without hesitation, and wipes her chin with a satisfied smirk. "moving on. your turn," she says, turning to you with a pointed look. "truth or dare?"

"dare," you reply confidently. "give me a juicy one."

utahime exchanges a mischevious look with mei mei before whispering something in her ear.

"got it," mei mei says, sitting upright. "give us your phone. utahime and I get to send one text to anyone we want—and you can't take it back until the end of the night."

you take a steadying breath, weighing your options. it's only utahime and mei mei, you reason. how bad could it be? if it were gojo, the tequila would already be halfway to your lips. finally, you unlock your phone and slide it across the table.

"go ahead. do your worst."

mei mei snatches it up gleefully, her fingers flying across the screen. you pointedly look away, unwilling to torture yourself by imagining what chaos they're unleashing.

"alright," you announce. "let's keep the game rolling. haibara—truth or dare?"

haibara flushes an even deeper shade of red than before, the color creeping onto his neck. "I'm a little nervous," he admits shyly. "truth."

"don't be nervous," you say with mock sincerity. "we're your closest friends! we'd never judge or be offended by anything you say or do. that said... who here is your least favorite person?"

haibara gasps, clutching his chest. "noooo! I can't answer that—it's too mean! I love and respect you all equally!"

nanami, ever the calm voice of reason, places a gentle hand on haibara's and nudges it toward his drink. "take two sips, yu," he says simply.

you chuckle as geto flicks your forehead. "harsh, but fair."

haibara obeys, taking two large gulps. he sets his glass down, visibly tipsy now, and beaming at nanami.

"okay, nanamiiin~" haibara slurs slightly, drawing out the nickname, "truth or dare?"

nanami raises a brow but humors him with a small smile. "dare."

"alrighty," haibara begins, leaning in conspiratorially. "for some backstory—I heard you singing in the shower a couple weeks ago when you thought no one was around."

the table collectively perks up.

"so," haibara continues, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper that's still loud enough for everyone to hear, "I dare you to sing for us. don't be shy, ken. you have a beautiful voice."

the group falls into stunned silence. nanami's ears turn bright red as the color spreads across his cheeks. it's possibly the first time you've ever seen him blush.

after a pause, he clears his throat and picks up his glass. "you got me there, yu," he says smoothly, before chugging the rest of his drink in one go.

haibara's face falls, his disappointment palpable. "aww, but I really wanted to hear it!"

nanami leans over, resting an arm on haibara's shoulder. you catch a faint, "later," murmured under his breath.

and with that, he nods toward mei mei, signaling the game to continue.

"alright, mei mei, truth or dare?" nanami asks, his tone measured, as always.

"dare, of course," mei mei replies smoothly, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.

nanami straightens his collar, clearly crafting something calculated. "I dare you to do your best impression of someone at this table. if we don't guess it right, you drink. no talking allowed."

"regulated and thorough," mei mei says with a smirk. "I would expect nothing less from you, nanami. very well, I'll begin."

she stands, her violet off-the-shoulder sweater swaying with her movement. turning her back to the group, she pauses for dramatic effect. then, with a sharp turn of her head, she flutters her eyelashes, blows an exaggerated kiss, sticks her tongue out, and pretends to push up invisible glasses.

haibara is the first to pipe up, "I got it! 's gojo-senpai, that's really g'd, mei mei!"

"how the actual fuck is that me?!" gojo exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

mei mei curtsies, her smirk widening. "correct, haibara. it was an easy choice—gojo's the most dramatic one here."

the group hums in agreement. shoko, sipping from her drink, adds dryly, "since we guessed it right away, shouldn't gojo drink? he's technically the loser."

"you can't just make up rules, sho!" gojo protests, looking around for support. his gaze lands on geto, who shrugs and slides him a shot.

"sounds fair to me, satoru. unless... you can't handle it?" geto teases, his grin lazy but pointed.

with a theatrical sigh, gojo downs the shot, grimacing as he does. nanami ever the thoughtful one, disappears into the kitchen, returning with a cocktail for himself and glasses of water for both gojo and haibara. gojo accepts his water with a reluctant nod, taking slow sips while you rub soothing circles on his back.

"your kindness is admirable," mei mei drawls, watching you with amused eyes. "but since you're being so tenderhearted, I'll send some chaos your way. truth or dare?"

you immediately withdraw your hand, straightening in your seat. "truth."

mei mei leans forward, violet eyes glinting mischievously. "I’m feeling messy, so… who would you fuck, marry, and kill among your fellow third-years? choose wisely."

the table erupts into a mix of gasps and laughter. haibara nearly chokes on his drink, and nanami quietly hands him his water. all eyes turn to you, expectant.

you lean back, arms crossed. "alright, I'll answer with my whole chest. first, marry shoko—duh. she’s special-grade wife material. she cooks, cleans, and nurses you back to health."

utahime's grin falters slightly, but you press on. "fuck suguru—" you gesture toward him, "I mean, look at him. plus, we all know he swallows."

the table howls with laughter as shoko nearly falls out of her seat. geto arches an eyebrow at you, looking both flattered and mildly concerned.

"and I guess that leaves gojo, so... kill him." you shrug. "though honestly, I don't even know how I'd manage that."

gojo clutches his chest, aghast. "why me?!" you just admitted you can't even kill me yourself! and what, am I unattractive to you?!"

you roll your eyes. "relax, bookie. you're fine as hell, but you're more 'all-up-in-your-face' fine. suguru's more... nonchalant fine."

the group hums in agreement, fueling gojo's indignation. "what does that even mean?!" he whines, flailing.

geto places a calming hand on his arm, his voice even. "relax, satoru. I have my own concerns—" his gaze flickers to you. "—about the swallowing comment."

feigning nonchalance, you glance at your wrist as if checking an invisible watch. "oh would you look at the time? moving on. shoko, truth or dare?"

"dare," shoko says immediately, lifting the tequila bottles. "and as host, I declare a new rule: from now on everyone drinks every turn, no exceptions."

a collective groan rises from the trio of haibara, gojo, and utahime, all clearly tipsy. you, mei mei, geto, and nanami grunt or nod in agreement.

"lovin’ that energy sho, so to up the ante," you say, digging into your pocket, "I dare you to smoke this." you toss a poorly rolled, but fat blunt onto the table. "and take a shot after. getting crossed should help you reach tonight's goal."

shoko's eyes light up as she snatches it greedily. "the girls are really coming through tonight! you're a godsend."

gojo scoffs. "godsend? how? she brought literal drugs to your party! isn't it called the devil's lettuce?"

shoko snorts, rummaging for a lighter. "this, from the guy who probably can't even stand up straight."

"I just don't feel like standing right now," gojo mumbles, pouting.

shoko gives him a withering look. "fine. truth or dare, satoru?"

"well, now I know what the dare is, so... truth."

"alright. who at this table have you had a sex dream about?"

the table falls into stunned silence. nanami chokes on his drink, and gojo freezes, eyes wide as they dart around the group. his gaze lingers a bit too long on you and geto before he quickly looks down, blushing furiously.

shoko smirks, satisfied. "definitely tabling that reaction to circle back to later."

gojo groans, face hidden behind his hands. "'m drinking. everyone drink."

you clink your glass with geto's, smirking. he wasn't fooling anyone.

shoko makes her way to the sliding backdoor, tossing a casual remark over her shoulder. “I'll be back in a flash—just gonna step outside to finish my dare. keep it going, and don't forget my shot when I get back." she winks before stepping out and taking a seat on the back steps.

inside, gojo hiccups, his high-pitched squeak drawing laughter around the table. his cheeks flush a shade brighter. you smirk, knowing your prediction about his tolerance was proving accurate.

clearing his throat, he wobbles a little before announcing, "who'd I wanna choose next... hmm... nanamin~! my dearesst kouhai, trussted friend, and bl—"

"I'm afraid to let you finish that sentence," nanami cuts him off dryly, already raising his glass. "so, I'll just drink. everybody?"

the table burst into laughter, raising their glasses to join him. haibara clunks his cup down a little too hard before slumping over, his head landing heavily on nanami's shoulder, some tequila dribbling from his lips onto nanami's sleeve.

nanami sighs, staring down at the mess before resigning himself. "haibara, maybe stick to mini-sips for your next few drinks. you can't even hold yourself up anymore."

haibara hums in drowsy agreement, leaning further into nanami, who chuckles heartily—a rare sound that surprises everyone. turning to geto, nanami raises a brow. "geto-senpai, truth or dare?"

geto, looking unbothered as usual, undoes his bun, letting his inky-black hair spill over his shoulders. he tucks a loose strand behind his gauged ear with a casual flick. "dare, nanamin~."

nanami considers this, his words tumbling over each other as the alcohol dulls his normally precise tone. "how about I... you... okay, I dare you to ride your manta ray curse around the school right now."

geto blinks, waiting for a punchline that never comes. "wait, you're serious? now? like, right now?"

"I don't know how I could be any clearer."

"dick," gojo mutters.

geto shakes his head, airing out his shirt. "as much as I would—and have, by the way—I think that might qualify as drunk driving. or, you know, drunk flying."

"or drunk swimming," you chime in.

"semantics." geto waves it off. "fine, everybody drink."

at this point, the alcohol is catching up with you. tilting your head back to take your shot makes the room swim a little. you fan yourself, suddenly flushed. gojo notices, leaning close to blow cool air onto your face like a fan.

you giggle, slurring, "satoru smells like str'berriesss~."

geto shakes his head at the chaos and turns his attention to utahime, whose head was face down on the table. "utahime, get up. truth or dare?"

utahime rolls her head sluggishly to the side, revealing a face flushed deep red. "fucking dare."

"language," geto teased with a mock pout. "there's no need to cuss. let's bring out that sweet side of yours. I dare you to kiss shoko when she comes back."

utahime shoots up, wide-eyed. "what?! k-kiss—shoko?!"

"that is what I said," geto replies, calm as ever.

mei mei nudges utahime, smirking. "do it, and I'll finish that paperwork for your mission on monday."

after a moment of hesitation, utahime grabs her shot, muttering, "fine. fuck it," before tossing it back. she slumps over dramatically.

the backdoor slides open just then, shoko reappearing with a dreamy sway. her eyes bloodshot and reeking of weed, she gives a languid nod when you ask, "damn, sho. you killed it, huh?"

she slumps into her chair, blinking slowly. "soooo, where are we?"

utahime stiffens but manages to squeak out, "my dare is... to kiss you."

"oh." shoko's lips curl into a lazy smile. "'kay. go ahead." she tilts her face. presenting her cheek.

utahime leans in, delivering the quickest peck possible.

"boo," geto jeers.

"yeah! boo!!!" gojo joins, cut off by another hiccup.

"tomato, tomato, tomato," you tease.

shoko blinks in confusion, looking one breath away from falling asleep. haibara's muffled voice comes from nanami's shoulder, "s'not the kiss we's looking f'r. try again—on th' lips." he clumsily raises his hands in a heart shape.

shoko turns back to utahime with a sleepy "'kay," puckering her lips and closing her eyes.

utahime hesitates, side-eyeing the group before her expression softens. smitten, she closes her eyes and leans in. their lips meet in a soft peck, but shoko isn't done. she grabs utahime's jaw, pulling her into a loud, smacking kiss.

"arrgh."

everyone turns to gojo, who is clutching his stomach. he gags loudly.

"what the fu—gojo, are you okay?!" geto asks, concerned.

"arrgh, aargh—"

"are you seriously gagging?" you ask, wide-eyed.

he sputters, cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk before bolting for the bathroom. the door slams shut behind him, and moments later, the unmistakable sound of vomiting echoes.

the table sits frozen. shoko and utahime remains in their pose, hands still cradling each other's faces. the faint sound of retching fills the silence.

geto breaks the tension with a deadpan, "so, gojo's homophobic."

from the bathroom comes a strained yell, "'M NOT HOMOPHOBIC! it was just bad timing! I've never drunk befor—"

he gags again.

nanami buries his face in his hands. "jesus."

geto stands. "I've got him." he slips into the bathroom after gojo.

you push yourself up, retrieving water and chips from the kitchen. "I'll give him a hand," you say, heading for the bathroom. "sounds like he needs it."

the fluorescent bathroom light buzzes faintly, its harsh glow making your head pound as you step inside. gojo is bent over the toilet, panting heavily, his white hair sticking out in a chaotic mess. geto is knelt beside him, one hand rubbing circles into his back, murmuring softly, "you're okay, satoru. just breathe."

you ease down onto the cold tile floor beside them, your hand brushing gojo's sweaty bangs off his forehead. "you'll feel better soon," you say gently.

after another minute, gojo finally stops heaving. he reaches up with a trembling hand to flush the toilet, the sound of rushing water echoing in the small space.

uncapping a water bottle, you tilt it to his lips, letting him take a few cautious gulps. then you nudge geto over slightly and lean your back against the base of the toilet. gojo groans before collapsing across your laps, his head resting on geto's thigh and his chest presses into yours.

"the room is spinning, guys," gojo mumbles, voice hoarse. "make it stop".

geto smooths his palm over gojo's cheek, his voice low and soothing. "I know, satoru. just close your eyes and focus on your breathing."

reaching down, you find gojo's hand and lace your fingers with his, pulling it to his chest. you trace small circles over his knuckles. "you're okay, satoru," you murmur. "this happens to everyone."

gradually, his body softens in your hold. his breathing evens out as his eyelids flutter shut. geto hums a low, calming tune, and you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I think he's out 'ru," you whisper.

geto's arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. "always looking after you two," he says quietly. "you owe me."

you snort, muffled against his chest. "'m comple'ly fine though!" but your own head was spinning, and the warmth of geto's hand tracing your arm lulls you toward sleep.

outside the bathroom, nanami notices haibara ceasing all movement, slumping lifelessly against his shoulder. concerned, he asks shoko for permission to use her room. once inside, he gently lays haibara on the bed, propping him up with pillows. fetching a glass of water and some bread from the kitchen, nanami coaxes small bites and sips out of him.

by the time haibara's color returns and his glassy eyes gain some clarity, nanami feels his own nerves ease. haibara grabs his wrist, tugging him onto the bed. reluctantly, nanami allows it, settling beside him. haibara's breath evens out as he drifts off, his forehead presses into nanami's side. nanami sighs, resigning himself to the makeshift role of caretaker once again.

shoko and utahime decide the night isn't over and stumble toward shoko's small couch with utahime's speaker in hand. shoko fiddles with her ipod shuffle browsing through her music gallery. she settles on her indie playlist, and excitedly stands on the couch pulling utahime clumsily up with her. what starts as vibing out quickly ends with them passed out together, limbs tangled and mouths agape, soft snores punctuating the quiet.

as the only one remaining at the table, mei mei is busy with her usual mischief. having memorized your phone's passcode earlier, she unlocks it again and frowns at the failed transaction she made from your dare earlier. not one to be deterred, she fiddles with the wi-fi and tries resending the payment. her face lights up moments later when a notification buzzes on the screen.

Mei Mei | Today at 2:14 AM this is an automated message. your apple cash amount of $[100.00] was processed successfully.

she smirks, scrolling through her personal wishlist for potential splurges. after adding a few items to her cart, she looks around the room, noting. the rhythmic snores of her friends. satisfied as the night's clear victor, she turns to your phone's camera and swipes to video, ready to document her triumph.

00:06 ==⬤---------------------- 01:22  ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻  mei mei (whispering): "once again, we have saved the best for last. everybody else just can't hang—it's quite unfortunate. as the rightful victor, I conclude that gojo satoru was the drunkest tonight, given his stint bent over the toilet. let's take a look, shall we?" [the camera pans to the bathroom. gojo is sprawled across the laps of geto and you, his face pressed against geto's thigh. geto's head rests against yours as all three of you snooze peacefully.] mei mei (whispering): "look at these cuties, snuggled up on the bathroom floor. gojo looks so peaceful, you would never know he was just expelling his entire stomach's contents barely an hour ago."

[the camera cuts to the couch, where shoko and utahime are tangled together in a chaotic sprawl, drooling and snoring loudly.] mei mei (whispering): "and here are the lovebirds! snorting and drooling all over each other. utahime is definitely going to remember this tomorrow. shoko? I sure hope so, because I can't go back to those constant longing stares, ugh!"

[the shot moves to shoko's room, focusing on haibara clinging to nanami like a lifeline.] mei mei (whispering): "and here's haibara, glued to his big, strong man who saved him from being gojo 2.0. nanami, ever the hero, still played babysitter. truly wholesome content."

[the video cuts back to mei mei, her face smug.] mei mei: "and that's a wrap! should I keep sending myself money off everyone's phones? hmm... haven’t I earned it? anyway, bye now!" 01:22 =================⬤ 01:22 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻