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wbbfannnnnn13 · 1 day ago

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Almost, Always - Chapter 12

paige x azzi

Previous chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11

A/N: I know, it's late... but I did it. It took longer than I thought b/c I had to go back and read through previous chapters since it's been so long lol. Don't worry, I still have motivation to continue this story, I've just been crazy busy. But shout out to all the other amazing writers, I feel like people have been cooking lately.

Anyways, hope you enjoy! And as always, I appreciate the comments, replies, and reactions :)

WC: 4.1k+

Chapter 12 – Back to Baseline

Paige POV

The arena pulsed with that specific kind of energy only game day could summon—louder than nerves, quieter than chaos. Not the pressure-heavy kind, but something looser. A little lighter. It was still early enough that nerves hadn’t settled in yet. The bleachers were empty except for a few staff members and assistant trainers tapping away at clipboards or sipping lukewarm coffee from paper cups. The lights overhead hummed softly, casting a clean, even glow across the hardwood.

It was the morning walkthrough. The unofficial start of game day. Players moved through drills in a half-speed rhythm, still waking up, still shaking out the stiffness from the game before. Coaches wandered the court with hands in their pockets, calling out the occasional reminder, but their voices hadn’t climbed past casual. No whistles. No fire. Just the low murmur of sneakers squeaking, basketballs thudding in irregular beats, and a few bursts of laughter that broke the quiet now and then.

Dijiona had somehow claimed the aux cord during stretches, and no one had protested. The gym now bounced with early 2000s R&B—smooth, nostalgic, and a little flirtatious. A few heads bobbed. One of the trainers sang a line under his breath, caught himself, and laughed. The vibe had shifted, just slightly, like the room exhaled.

Paige was one of the last to jog in. Hoodie pulled low over her eyes, laces still dragging as she stepped onto the court. She didn’t rush. Didn’t need to. There was already a smirk tugging at her mouth like she was in on a joke no one else had heard yet. She paused near the sideline, tugged her hoodie sleeves up to her elbows, and finally knelt to lace her sneakers with the kind of casual focus.

She felt different today. Not all the way back to normal—whatever normal even meant these days—but steadier. Like her insides had stopped spinning long enough for her to actually hear herself think. The noise hadn’t gone away completely, but it had softened. Muted around the edges.

Her teammates noticed. They always did.

Arike passed by with her usual easy swagger, tossing Paige a lazy, one-handed high-five on her way to the bench. “Somebody slept well,” she said, eyebrows raised in mock suspicion.

Paige gave a casual shrug, her voice dry. “What can I say? Still riding that game one win.”

That earned a snort from Dijonai, who was mid-stretch with a foam roller under her calves. “Nah. You FaceTimed her, didn’t you?”

Paige didn’t answer. Just let the question trail off, floating somewhere behind her like it didn’t matter—not enough to chase, anyway. Her smirk curved a little wider, then settled into something quieter. Steady.

She peeled off her hoodie in one smooth motion, revealing the familiar team tee beneath, and tucked it under her arm as she jogged toward the line for passing drills. Her body moved like it belonged here—no tension in her shoulders, no hitch in her steps. The sharpness was back in her frame, but the heaviness that had hung around her for weeks was nowhere to be found.

There was a rhythm to her now, something that felt earned. Something that hadn’t come from clearing her head overnight, but from finally catching her breath after holding it too long.

The FaceTime with Azzi had been short. Casual, even. But it had cracked something open.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d been gripping onto everything—her nerves, the headlines, the silence—until that call loosened her fingers. They hadn’t fixed it all. They hadn’t even scratched the surface. But the way Azzi had looked at her, voice soft, eyes tired but honest—it had reminded Paige of something simple and undeniable:

They were still them.

And maybe, just maybe, the off-season wasn’t off the table after all. Maybe she could still propose. Maybe it didn’t have to end in distance.

Her chest lifted slightly as she pivoted into a full-speed cut during a drill, ball hitting her hands clean. She caught it, turned, fired it back. Snap. Sharp. Clean.

No overthinking. No static in her head. Just basketball. Just this moment.

“Damn,” Dijonai called from the sideline, mock fanning herself. “She’s back.”

A few teammates laughed. Paige just raised an eyebrow, cocky as ever. “Back?” she said, deadpan. “I never left.”

__________________________________________________

Azzi POV

On the far side of the court, Azzi had found her rhythm. Smooth release, soft arc, net whispering on every make. Five in a row from the corner, each shot falling cleaner than the last. Her form was automatic now — muscle memory and breath control working in sync, the kind of rhythm that felt almost meditative. She was jogging back into position when Aaliyah, trying to be helpful, rifled a pass her way a beat too early — no-look, off-target, and fast enough to catch Azzi square in the thigh.

“Ow,” Azzi deadpanned, gripping her leg with mock betrayal.

A few teammates cracked up.

“My bad!” Aaliyah called, wide-eyed but grinning. “It was a trust pass.”

“You just assaulted me,” Azzi fired back, rubbing her leg.

“I feel like lunch could fix this,” Aaliyah offered, hands up in surrender.

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to weigh it. “Nah. I’m gonna need lunch and a massage. Minimum. I don’t suffer in silence.”

More laughter broke out, and someone muttered, “She’s so dramatic,” under their breath — but Azzi was already back in line, grinning like she hadn’t missed a beat.

They rotated through drills, shifting from spot-ups to curls, and Azzi drifted through her reps with that same ease. But between cuts and catches, her eyes wandered — pulled across the court like they always were, like gravity had a personal stake in the matter.

Paige was in motion, laughing at something Arike said, her hand tugging absentmindedly at the hem of her shorts. Then a bounce pass — clean, instinctual — right into her teammate’s hands on the baseline. Her body language was looser now, but still sharp, and controlled. That duality Azzi had always admired. Always noticed.

Her chest tightened.

It was unfair, the way Paige could still do that to her. How just the shape of her moving across the floor — the rhythm in her stride, the way her shoulders dipped when she cut into space — could stir something so immediate. So physical. Like recognition before thought.

But today, it didn’t ache. Not in the same sharp, hollow way it had before.

It just… reminded her. Of what they were. What they still could be. Of the version of them that existed before everything got so loud.

And yet, buried under the warmth was a flicker of something harder to ignore — not pain exactly, but doubt. Not about Paige. About herself.

Because Paige made it look easy — navigating the pressure, the cameras, the headlines. Even the FaceTime last night had left Azzi torn in two: relief flooding her chest, and something else tugging at her ribs — fear, maybe. That she wouldn’t be strong enough to live in Paige’s world so openly and still feel like herself.

That the spotlight Paige lived under might always cast too long a shadow.

And then there was the photo. That stupid photo.

The woman at the restaurant — hand on Paige’s arm, smile too familiar — still lived in the back of Azzi’s mind like a glitch she couldn’t quite smooth over. Even after the call, part of her still flinched at the memory of it. Not because she didn’t trust Paige… but because once it cracked, one conversation wouldn’t fix it all.

You know her. Better than anyone. Better than the internet.

Her mom’s voice surfaced again — calm, steady, impossible to unhear.

Don’t let fear rewrite everything you already know about each other.

Azzi had nodded when Katie said that, let the words settle into her chest like they’d been absorbed. But standing here now, watching Paige light up the court with that effortless charisma, Azzi wasn’t so sure if her fear had rewritten anything… or if it had just underlined what she already knew but didn’t want to admit.

That loving Paige meant learning how to live with the noise. Not just tolerate it. Not just pretend it wasn’t there.

But really live with it — let it move in, take up space, press against the edges of her patience and privacy. It meant learning how to stay grounded when the world decided to pull at every thread of their relationship, twist it, headline it, debate it in comment sections like strangers knew anything about the shape of their love.

It meant loving Paige when her name trended for reasons that had nothing to do with basketball. It meant staying soft even when the world tried to harden her. Trusting the quiet between them more than the noise. Believing the weight of a look over the weight of a headline.

And that wasn’t easy. Azzi had spent years building her identity through control, through quiet, through staying low to the ground. She knew how to block things out, how to lock in. But being with Paige asked her to do the opposite. To stay open. To stay seen.

And sometimes, that was terrifying.

She exhaled slowly, tried to center herself. Reset her feet behind the arc, let the ball rise and fall from her fingertips — clean, practiced, automatic.

At least some things still were.

As walkthrough wound down and the teams broke into their final huddles, most of the intensity had already started to taper off. Players stretched out on the sidelines, shoes untied, conversations drifting toward lunch plans and pregame naps. Coaches swapped notes. The court had settled into that in-between quiet—where the work was done, but the game hadn’t started yet.

Azzi had just finished her cooldown, bent over to tighten her laces one last time, when she caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye.

Paige.

Walking toward her. Direct. Unhurried.

Azzi straightened slowly.

They met at mid court—just the two of them, the space suddenly quieter around them than it had been all morning. There was no hiding here. No excuse of a drill or a screen or a shared rotation. Just proximity.

Paige didn’t speak right away. She stopped with just enough distance between them to keep it appropriate—but close enough to feel deliberate. Her eyes scanned Azzi’s face like she was still reading the room, still checking for permission. And then, slowly, that familiar smirk tugged at her mouth.

“You been watching me all practice?” Paige asked, voice low, teasing.

Azzi blinked once. “Please,” she said, feigning boredom. “You wish.”

“Oh, I know,” Paige said, tipping her head slightly. “You got caught at least twice.”

Azzi scoffed, but her smile was already giving her away. “Delusional.”

Paige’s gaze dropped for a split second—just a flicker down to Azzi’s lips, then back up. She didn’t say anything, but the shift in her expression said plenty.

“Solid shooting today,” Paige said casually, like they were still talking basketball. “Almost like you were trying to impress someone.”

Azzi crossed her arms, chin tilted. “Funny. I thought you were the one flexing for attention.”

Paige shrugged. “I mean... can’t blame me. My audience has high standards.”

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too wide. It was dangerous, the way Paige could do that—thread heat through a single look, make the air feel heavier in a split second.

“Better save it for the game,” Azzi said eventually, voice quieter now. “Wouldn’t want to waste all your charm before tip.”

Paige held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “Who says it’s wasted?”

Before Azzi could respond, a voice interrupted her —someone calling for bags, wrap-up, reset. Paige glanced toward the noise, then back at Azzi.

She didn’t push it. Just gave the faintest nod, like she’d said what she came to say.

“See you out there,” she murmured.

Then she turned and jogged off, the rhythm of her steps just a little lighter than before.

Azzi stood there for a moment longer, pulse ticking faster than it had during any drill.

___________________________________

Paige POV

The hotel room was quiet except for the hum of the A/C and the soft scuff of her slides on the carpet as she moved around. Her game gear was already laid out — jersey draped over the back of the chair, socks and shoes in a neat line by the door. She was trying to keep things routine. Stay focused. But her mind kept drifting.

She’d gone through the scout twice, flipped through clips of Azzi’s last few games more times than she wanted to admit — not for strategy. Just… because.

Outside, the city was moving like it always did — sirens echoing faintly, traffic inching past the windows, people living their lives without knowing what this night would mean to her.

Then her phone buzzed.

Paige didn’t even try to hide the way she smiled.

AZZI: Just a heads up — I’ve been lights out all morning. You might wanna stay glued tonight.

AZZI: Or you know… bring help.

Paige leaned back on the bed, one arm behind her head, thumbs already tapping.

PAIGE: You hit a few shots in shoot around and suddenly you’re Steph Curry now?

PAIGE: I let you get those looks in Game 1 out of kindness.

Azzi replied instantly.

AZZI: 😂 wow

AZZI: You’re lucky I like you.

AZZI: Barely.

Paige smirked.

PAIGE: You love me. Even when I’m locking you up.

PAIGE: Especially then.

A pause. Then:

AZZI: You wish

AZZI: …what’d you pack for postgame though

PAIGE: I brought cookies. Soft ones. Your favorite.

PAIGE: Regardless of who wins, I got you.

AZZI: Dangerous.

AZZI: You can’t talk shit and be sweet. That’s emotional whiplash.

PAIGE: Balance. You know I’m all about it.

PAIGE: See you tonight, Az. Try not to get too distracted.

AZZI: Can’t make any promises.

Paige stared at the screen for a few extra seconds after the last message, thumb still hovering, a quiet grin pulling at her mouth.

It hit her in waves, how something so small — a text, a tease, a familiar rhythm — could settle her like this. Like the noise had dialed down just enough to let her breathe. They still hadn’t had the conversation, the one that would clear everything, but this? It felt like the start of something steady again. Like trust, rebuilt in pieces, could look a little like this.

She missed her. Not in the dramatic, aching way it had hit her last week — but in a more grounded way now. A knowing. A gravity.

Azzi still chose her, even in the smallest moments.

And right now, that was enough.

_______________________________

Azzi POV

The locker room felt different tonight. Not chaotic, not loud — just... concentrated. Players moved around in familiar rhythms: taping ankles, adjusting compression sleeves, layering jerseys over warmup gear. The music thumped low from the corner speaker, more of a pulse than a soundtrack.

Azzi sat at her locker, one leg bent, the other extended out in front of her, methodically wrapping her wrist with pre-wrap even though she didn’t need it. Just something to keep her hands busy.

Her mind wouldn’t settle.

She’d gone through the scout. Run through her shots. Closed her eyes on the bus and visualized every cut, every read, every coverage. But none of it cleared the static. Not completely.

She knew Paige was already in the building. Had probably walked through the same tunnel, under the same lights. She kept picturing her — hoodie up, headphones in, chewing on a drawstring, that familiar quiet fire in her eyes.

And that smile. The one from earlier.

The texts from a few hours ago still lingered in her chest more than they should. They weren’t long. Nothing dramatic. But they felt like something — something solid. Something warm. And maybe that was the problem. Because it made tonight feel like more than just a game.

She didn’t hear Aaliyah at first.

“You good?”

Azzi blinked, looking up to find her leaning against the locker a few feet away, arms crossed, eyebrows raised just enough to let Azzi know she wasn’t asking casually.

“Yeah,” Azzi said, quick. Too quick. “Just locked in.”

Aaliyah didn’t move. “Locked in, huh?”

Azzi shrugged, trying to play it off. “You know how it is. Game day. Tunnel vision.”

“Sure,” Aaliyah said slowly. Then, after a beat: “It’s just... tunnel vision usually doesn’t involve staring at a water bottle for five minutes straight.”

Azzi smiled, but it didn’t hold.

Aaliyah waited. She always was good at that — knowing when to joke and when to just let the silence open a door.

Finally, Azzi sighed and leaned back against the wall. “It’s just been a lot. The media. The rumors. Paige.”

Aaliyah nodded, not surprised. “You guys good?”

Azzi hesitated. “We’re... getting there, I think. We FaceTimed last night. She was sweet. Kind of classic Paige — cocky and soft at the same time.”

Aaliyah gave a half smile. “Dangerous combo.”

Azzi huffed out a laugh. “Tell me about it.”

A pause, and then Azzi looked down at her hands, thumb brushing over the wrap. “It’s not even her I’m unsure about. It’s everything around her. The spotlight. The noise. That photo… shook me more than I want to admit. I know she didn’t cheat. I trust her. But the image—it made something crack, even just for a second. And I hate that it got to me.”

Aaliyah leaned in, her voice lower now. “You’re allowed to feel that. It doesn’t mean you don’t trust her. It just means you’re human.”

Azzi’s throat tightened. “I didn’t expect it to mess with my confidence like this. Not just in us, but in myself. I used to be so sure of what I could handle. Now I’m not.”

Aaliyah didn’t rush to fix it. Just nodded again. “The noise doesn’t mean anything unless you let it. But if it’s changing how you see you, maybe that’s the part that needs the most care.”

Azzi blinked once, then nodded slowly. “Thanks.”

Aaliyah stood, gave her a gentle bump with her knee. “Anytime. Also... if you light her up tonight, I will be talking shit in the group chat.”

Azzi laughed — a real one this time — and shook her head. “Deal.”

The locker room doors opened a minute later, and the call came. Time to line up. Time to move.

As Azzi walked toward the tunnel, the lights overhead casting sharp beams across the concrete floor, her pulse steadied. She wasn’t fully sure of everything between them yet. But she was walking toward it anyway.

The noise wouldn’t bother her tonight.

It was still there—flashes, cameras, whispers riding every possession—but it didn’t touch her the way it had before. Not the same. Not sharp like it had been in Dallas, when everything felt like it was slipping sideways.

She felt grounded now. Steady.

Her chest had stopped clenching every time she looked across the court and saw Paige. The texts had helped. The little jokes. The cookies. The fact that Paige still knew how to make her laugh, even through the static.

And now, as she rose into her first midrange jumper of the night, everything slowed for half a second — the rhythm of her feet planting, the ball rolling off her fingertips with that perfect backspin, the hush of the air around her as the shot lifted.

It dropped clean. No rim, no rattle. Just net, snapping taut like it had been waiting for her.

She didn’t celebrate. Didn’t need to. She let the sound of it settle into her chest, sharp and satisfying — the kind of hit that reminded her what it felt like to own a moment. To trust her instincts. To feel the game flow through her, not around her.

Her hands fell back to her sides, smooth and controlled, as she backpedaled on defense.

She was here. Present. Not shrinking. Not running.

Coach clapped her back after her second make. Aaliyah chest-bumped her after she forced a turnover on the next defensive set. The energy was building, looping, echoing. She could feel it ripple through her teammates, their confidence growing with each of her buckets.

But underneath all of it, there was something else. Something quieter. She wasn’t just playing for the Mystics tonight.

She was playing for herself.

For the part of her that needed to know she could do this — love Paige and still hold her own under the weight of it all.

And maybe, just maybe, she was playing for Paige too.

________________________________

Paige POV

Azzi was cooking. And Paige couldn’t even be mad about it.

She was completely in her bag—sharp footwork, tight release, eyes scanning the floor like she already knew what was coming two steps ahead. Every read was decisive, every movement clean. She slipped around screens like water, glided into her pull-up like gravity didn’t apply. Paige watched her drain another midrange off a curl, high release, net barely moving.

It was unreal. And also… entirely familiar.

She’d seen this before—in hushed late-night practices, in empty gyms with scuffed floors and no cameras. She’d seen it on national stages too, when Azzi went quiet mode and torched teams by simply refusing to miss. But tonight, under the lights, in front of thousands, against her?

It hit different.

She felt it in her chest.

God, I love watching her when she’s like this.

That thought shouldn’t have landed mid-game, not while they were trailing by three, not with her coach yelling coverages from the sideline. But her mind didn’t care. The thought slipped in any way—warm and sharp and unshakable—curling through her bloodstream like muscle memory.

She wasn’t just impressed. She was proud. And a little turned on. Which was, frankly, inconvenient.

They crossed paths during a dead ball, players rotating to reset, refs holding whistles at their sides. Paige stepped forward as Azzi slid back toward her spot at the top of the key. For a split second, it was just the two of them in motion. No defenders. No distractions.

Paige tilted her head, and waited until their shoulders brushed.

“Try not to get too hot out there,” she murmured, voice just above a whisper. “I’m trying to keep this game interesting.”

Azzi didn’t even blink. She felt the heat rise before she could stop it. Just that look from Paige — knowing, playful, way too close. It landed like a second heartbeat.

“You guarding me,” she said, deadpan, “or just spectating?”

Paige’s grin slipped in slowly like a secret trying to stay hidden.

The game was down to free throws.

Azzi stood at the line, hands on her hips, eyes locked on the rim. Paige was at half-court, arms crossed, breathing hard, sweat sticking to her jawline.

They looked at each other for a beat. Not long. Just enough.

Paige didn’t smile. Neither did Azzi. But something passed between them—an understanding.

Then Azzi stepped to the line.

First free throw. Clean. Second. Even cleaner.

Wings called timeout, but it was too late. Mystics up four. Ten seconds left. Game two was theirs.

The locker room was quiet, but it wasn’t heavy.

They’d played well. Just not well enough. And usually, that would gnaw at Paige—tighten her chest, keep her stuck in replays. But tonight? It wasn’t spiraling. Just stinging a little.

Her phone buzzed as she unlaced her shoes.

She barely looked at the name on the screen before unlocking it.

AZZI: I gave you a warning. You didn’t listen.

Paige smiled to herself, thumb already flying.

PAIGE: Please. I was just being polite.

AZZI: Polite? You fouled me on the last possession.

PAIGE: I was going for a dramatic ending. You’re welcome for the storyline.

AZZI: My hip disagrees.

PAIGE: Want me to kiss it better?

The typing bubbles appeared, disappeared. Then came back.

AZZI: You’re lucky I like you.

PAIGE: You love me.

AZZI: 😶

PAIGE: Don’t worry. I won’t make you say it after a win. I’m generous like that.

AZZI: Wow. So humble.

PAIGE: Seriously though… you were locked in tonight. Couldn’t look away.

A longer pause.

AZZI: Thanks. AZZI: I wanted to prove something. To myself. Maybe to you too.

PAIGE: You did.

She paused before sending the next one, then added:

PAIGE: Still owe you cookies though.

AZZI: I haven’t forgotten. You bringing them in person?

PAIGE: You inviting me?

AZZI: You already know the answer to that.

Paige’s breath caught—just for a second. She didn’t reply right away. She didn’t need to.

Instead, she leaned back, phone resting on her chest, a small smile settling into place.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd

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hereforuconnwbb · 2 days ago

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Unexpected Halt - CHAPTER TEN

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

~paige plays for uconn and azzi plays for stanford~

word count: 10k

warning: language

sooo this is the 2nd last chapter for this series (99.9% sure) kinda crazy how it’s almost over 😭 hopefully u guys enjoy this chapter and that it makes sense 😓 i tried my best to make everything come together, and fingers crossed there aren’t any mistakes lol but thank you for sticking with this story it means a lot to me 🫶🏽

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

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. Paige stirred first, blinking against the brightness as she felt the familiar warmth of Azzi curled against her. Their legs were tangled beneath the blankets, Azzi’s head tucked against Paige’s shoulder, her slow, steady breathing the only sound filling the quiet space.

For a moment, Paige didn’t move. She just let herself be—savoring the peacefulness, the way Azzi fit so perfectly against her. It was one of those rare mornings where everything felt right, like the past few weeks hadn’t been filled with so much uncertainty.

Azzi shifted slightly, a quiet hum escaping her lips as she blinked up at Paige sleepily. “Morning,” she mumbled, voice laced with sleep.

Paige smiled, brushing a few strands of hair away from Azzi’s face. “Morning.”

Azzi let out a small yawn, her hand absentmindedly resting against Paige’s stomach as she got comfortable again. Then, as if remembering something, she lifted her head slightly. “What time’s your flight tomorrow?”

Paige exhaled, her fingers trailing lightly over Azzi’s back. “Uh… I think around noon. Gotta be at the airport a little before that.”

Azzi frowned slightly, her brows drawing together. “That’s so soon.”

Paige sighed, knowing Azzi wasn’t happy about it. “I know. I wish I could stay longer, but Geno wanted me back in time for practice.” She gave Azzi a small squeeze. “I’m just glad he and CD even let me come here instead of flying back with the team.”

Azzi huffed, burying her face into Paige’s neck for a moment before mumbling, “Still too short.”

Paige chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Azzi’s head. “I’ll take what I can get.”

Azzi pulled back just enough to look at Paige. “Me too,” she admitted, her fingers tracing absent patterns on Paige’s arm. “Guess we better make the most of today, huh?”

Paige smiled. “Yeah. Let’s make it count.”

—--------------

They decided to take a walk to the nearby café for breakfast, the cool morning air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the room they had just left. The streets were still quiet, the soft hum of early risers beginning to fill the air as they strolled side by side, their fingers naturally intertwining. The simple act of holding hands felt like a quiet promise—a comfort they both needed after the whirlwind of emotions they’d been through.

Paige glanced over at Azzi, a soft smile tugging at her lips. Azzi caught her gaze, offering a grin of her own as they continued walking down the path, their steps in sync.

“Think they have good coffee here?” Azzi asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Paige laughed softly. “I’m betting they have great coffee.”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, squeezing Paige’s hand. “That’s a lot of pressure, P.”

Paige winked at her. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

The café came into view ahead, a cozy little place with plants hanging from the windows and the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. They reached the door, and as they stepped inside, the warmth of the café wrapped around them like a hug.

The host led them to a booth by the window, sunlight filtering in and casting a golden hue over everything. They slid into the booth, still holding hands as they sat down. Paige was the first to let go, reaching for the menu as Azzi leaned back against the booth, glancing around casually.

“What’re you thinking?” Paige asked as she skimmed through the menu.

Azzi looked at her for a moment before answering, her voice light. “Maybe some avocado toast? Just something simple.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Avocado toast? You’ve changed.”

Azzi grinned, nudging Paige playfully. “Hey, it’s good. Plus, they probably have the best toast in the area, so I’m taking advantage.”

Paige laughed softly and nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll get the same. Can’t go wrong with toast.”

Their waitress came over a few moments later, taking their orders with a bright smile before disappearing into the back. Azzi looked at Paige again, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Without saying anything, she leaned over the table, brushing her lips against Paige’s in a quick, gentle peck. Paige smiled against her lips, her thumb tracing lightly over Azzi’s hand.

Azzi pulled back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze, her eyes sparkling. “What?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Paige chuckled, leaning in to kiss her again. This time, it was a little longer, their lips moving together, slow and easy. They didn’t pull away completely, lingering there for a few moments, pressing little pecks against each other’s lips, smiling between them. The simplicity of it all was grounding—the softness, the connection, the way everything just felt right in that moment.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested gently against each other, and Azzi grinned. “You’re never getting rid of me, you know that?”

Paige laughed, her hand sliding back to rest on Azzi’s. “Good. I don’t plan on it.”

The waitress returned with their orders, placing the avocado toast in front of them, but neither of them was in a rush to eat just yet. Instead, they lingered in the space between, taking in the quiet, the smiles, and the soft rhythm of their breaths, enjoying the feeling of just being together, in the moment, with no rush to move forward.

—--------------

The conversation flowed easily, but underneath the surface, there was an unspoken weight Azzi couldn’t quite shake. As much as she appreciated Paige’s efforts to come here, to make things right, a nagging feeling lingered in her chest. She wasn’t blind to the fact that it had been Paige who took all the steps to fix what had been broken between them. Paige had messaged first after everything happened, flown out to be with her, and even asked if they were still together.

Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. She had waited—waited for Paige to make all the moves, even though Azzi knew, deep down, that she should have been the one to step up sooner. That responsibility was on her too, but she’d let it slip by. She hadn’t been the one to check in emotionally on Paige, especially after everything that had happened with Lexi, and it bothered her.

She wanted to be the one who took the initiative next time, to show Paige that she wasn’t just waiting for things to fall into place, but actively working to make sure Paige was okay. Because Paige deserved that—she deserved someone who would care for her the same way she had for Azzi, someone who would prioritize her emotional well-being, not just let her do all the heavy lifting.

As they continued to eat, Azzi’s thoughts drifted back to the night Paige had arrived. She remembered how the sight of Paige walking through the airport had sent a strange relief flooding over her, but it was also when Azzi had realized just how much she had been holding back.

She caught herself staring at Paige for a moment, the quiet hum of the café providing a background to the way Paige looked at her—relaxed, calm, content, but there was still something in her eyes, something guarded that Azzi hadn’t been able to reach yet.

Taking a deep breath, Azzi set her toast down and looked at Paige seriously, her heart beating a little faster. “I need to say something.”

Paige looked up at her, a small crease appearing on her forehead. “What’s up?”

Azzi swallowed, feeling the weight of what she was about to say. “I’ve been thinking… I’m really thankful that you came here, that you did all of this. It wasn’t easy, and I’m just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re the only one trying, you know?”

Paige furrowed her brow. “Azzi, what are you talking about? You’ve been trying, too.”

Azzi shook her head, her voice quiet but firm. “No. I haven’t. Not in the way you have. You messaged me first, you flew out here, and you asked if we were still together. You’ve been the one making sure everything was okay. I should have been the one checking in on you, especially after… everything with Lexi.”

Paige’s expression softened, but she didn’t interrupt. Azzi took a deep breath, continuing, “I’ve been kind of a passive participant in all of this, and I don’t want to keep doing that. I want to make sure you’re okay, too, and I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been there for me.”

Paige reached across the table, taking Azzi’s hand in hers. “You’re here, Azzi. And that’s all I need. I’m okay, I promise. I’m just… still getting over everything.”

Azzi squeezed her hand, her thumb brushing lightly over Paige’s knuckles. “I know, but I need to do better for you. I need to make sure you feel heard, and I need to take the lead in some things too. You’re not the only one who has to fix everything.”

Paige smiled softly, her eyes warm. “I’m not worried about it. We’re doing this together, right?”

Azzi nodded, her chest feeling lighter. “Yeah. Together.”

There was a long pause, and Paige squeezed her hand again. “And I’m glad you’re doing this, Azzi. I want us to be stronger because of it. I’m here for you, always.”

Azzi smiled, the uncertainty still there but fading little by little. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Paige’s cheek, her lips lingering for a second longer than usual. “I’m here for you, too.”

The quiet moment settled between them, but this time, it was different. There was no tension, no confusion. Just understanding. And that was enough for now.

—--------------

After they finished their breakfast, Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease. The conversation had cleared the air in a way, and though there was still work to be done, she knew they were heading in the right direction.

“Want to take a walk?” Azzi asked as they stood up, pushing her chair in and grabbing her jacket. “The weather’s nice, and it’s just a short walk to a park nearby.”

Paige smiled at her, a look of warmth and appreciation in her eyes. “Sounds perfect,” she replied, letting Azzi take the lead.

They left the café together, stepping out into the crisp morning air. Azzi linked her fingers with Paige’s, not shy about initiating the closeness this time. The soft touch of their hands intertwined was comforting, a small, intimate gesture that grounded them both.

As they walked side by side, Azzi looked over at Paige, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. There was gratitude, yes, but also a need to prove that she could be the one to take charge when it counted.

She squeezed Paige’s hand gently. “So, I’ve been thinking,” Azzi started, her voice steady but with a touch of uncertainty, “you know, we talked a lot about everything that happened with Lexi, but I don’t think I really asked you how you’re feeling, like emotionally. After everything you went through, I want to make sure you’re okay. I mean, I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

Paige looked at her in surprise, her brows knitting slightly. “I mean, I’m alright. I’ve had some time to process it. You know I’ve got my own way of handling things.”

Azzi nodded thoughtfully, stepping off the curb as they neared the entrance to the park. “I know you do, but I want to make sure you’re not just brushing it off, you know? It’s important. I’ve seen how tough you are, but you don’t have to do everything alone. I want to be there for you, too. It’s not just about me anymore.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, the sincerity in Azzi’s words hitting her in a way she wasn’t expecting. “You’re right,” she said quietly, squeezing Azzi’s hand. “I’ve been trying to handle it on my own, but… I guess I could use someone to talk to about it.”

Azzi’s eyes softened, and she stopped walking, turning to face Paige fully. “I’m here, Paige. You’re not alone in this. Ever. I know I should have been the one to ask you how you’re feeling sooner, but I’m asking now. Really, how are you feeling? About everything.”

Paige hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to open up fully. She had never been good at expressing vulnerability, especially not about something so raw. But something in Azzi’s gaze—the way she was looking at her, not with pity but with genuine care—made her feel safe.

“I’m still working through it,” Paige finally admitted, her voice quiet. “I mean, I’ve never been in a situation like that. It fucked me up, and it’s still hard to process, especially with the way everything happened. But… I’m getting there. And I’m glad I have you here to help me through it.”

Azzi reached up and gently cupped Paige’s cheek, her touch tender but firm, grounding Paige in the moment. “You don’t have to carry all of that weight by yourself anymore. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not just here to fix things; I’m here to be with you through everything. I want to make sure you’re okay, truly okay.”

Paige leaned into her touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. When she opened them again, her gaze met Azzi’s, and her lips curved into a small smile. “Thank you. I really mean that.”

Azzi grinned back, feeling a warmth spread in her chest. “You’ve been there for me, now I get to be there for you.”

They resumed walking, the park now spread out before them, the paths winding through rows of trees and manicured grass. The sun had fully risen, casting a gentle glow over the world around them. They took their time strolling along, the conversation ebbing and flowing naturally.

Azzi took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs. “I’m glad you came here, Paige. I know it wasn’t easy for you, but… I’m so glad we’re doing this. I mean, I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think we’re finally on the right track.”

Paige looked over at Azzi, a look of fondness crossing her face. “Me too. I’m really happy we’re doing this too.”

Azzi’s smile widened, and she squeezed Paige’s hand again, feeling more certain in that moment than she had in a long time. They didn’t have everything figured out, but they were in it together, and that was enough.

As they continued to walk, Azzi found herself leading the way a bit more, guiding them down the winding paths of the park, her confidence growing with every step. She was taking the lead now—not just physically, but emotionally as well. Paige deserved that. She deserved someone who would actively show up for her.

And as they walked hand in hand, the world seemed a little bit lighter, a little bit more hopeful. Together, they were going to figure this out, one step at a time.

As they walked through the park, Paige’s mind began to wander, and a new idea crept in. The thought had been lingering in the back of her mind for a while now, but she hadn’t brought it up to Azzi yet. Now, with the peaceful walk and the conversation flowing so easily, it felt like the right time.

“So,” Paige started casually, glancing over at Azzi, her tone light but with an underlying eagerness. “I’ve been thinking… you and Caroline, you both in the transfer portal. I know things with your team aren’t exactly… great. And I get that it’s a tough decision, but I just wanted to say—have you considered coming to UConn?”

Azzi slowed her pace, her brows furrowing slightly as she turned to look at Paige, trying to gauge the sincerity in her words. She didn’t want to show too much of her hand just yet, but Paige was looking at her with such hope that it made her chest tighten a little.

Paige continued, almost as if she couldn’t stop herself now that the words were out. “I mean, Geno’s been telling me to try and convince you. He really wants you there, Azzi, you and Caroline. And, you know, if you came—well, we’d be together. Like, on the same team. We’ve never played together before, but imagine that. We’d be unstoppable, right?”

Azzi stayed quiet for a moment, letting the idea sit in her mind. Paige was right; they had never been on the same team before, but the thought of playing with her—of being on the same court, really sharing the experience—sounded like something they could both excel in. And UConn’s program? One of the best in the country. It wasn’t just about playing with Paige, though that was certainly an exciting prospect—it was also about the opportunity to play for such a legendary team.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Azzi said slowly, her voice giving nothing away. “Caroline and I have talked about it a lot, actually.”

Paige’s eyes lit up, but she tried not to push, not wanting to make Azzi feel pressured. “I get it. It’s a huge decision, and you’ve got to do what’s best for you. But I just think about how good the program is, the competition, everything we could accomplish together. Plus, I’ll be there. We’ll be together.”

Azzi glanced down at their intertwined hands as they walked, her thoughts swirling. She could feel the pull to UConn—it was a chance to grow as a player, and even more importantly, it was a chance to be closer to Paige. But there was still a part of her that hesitated. She wasn’t ready to fully lay all her cards on the table, especially not when it came to something so personal.

“Yeah,” Azzi said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I mean, I’ve been leaning that way for a while now. But it’s not just about that, you know? It’s about finding the right place for me. For both of us, really.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat at Azzi’s words. She was leaning towards it. That was more than she had expected, and it gave her hope. She squeezed Azzi’s hand tighter, wanting to convey her support.

“Whatever you decide, Azzi, I’ll support you. No matter what. I just want you to be happy. But yeah, I really hope you’ll come to UConn. We’d make such a good team.” Paige smiled, a little nervous but mostly excited. “And hey, we’ll finally get to play together. I’ve always wanted that.”

Azzi smiled back, the warmth in her chest growing as she looked at Paige, knowing how much this meant to her. “I’ll keep thinking about it,” Azzi said quietly, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable sincerity. “And I appreciate you, you know? For giving me the space to figure it out.”

They continued walking, the sounds of the park around them calming the air. Paige felt content, knowing she had put her feelings out there and had shown Azzi how much she cared—not just about their relationship, but about her future, too.

��I know this is a big decision,” Paige added after a beat, her eyes scanning the trees as they strolled. “But whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you. You’re not in this alone.”

Azzi’s heart swelled at Paige’s words, and she leaned into her slightly, her shoulder brushing against Paige’s. “I know. And that’s more than I could ever ask for.”

As they continued to walk through the park, their pace slowing as the conversation turned to other things, the uncertainty about the future lingered, but there was a new sense of confidence in Azzi’s heart. No matter what happened with UConn, she knew one thing for sure: she wanted to figure it out with Paige. And whether they played together or not, they’d be a team. That much was already certain.

—--------------

When they got back to Azzi’s dorm, the atmosphere had shifted into a comfortable, familiar rhythm. Paige had made up her mind to pack her things in advance, knowing she had to leave the next day to head back to UConn. She headed to Azzi’s room, gathering her bags and making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Meanwhile, Azzi and Caroline stayed in the common area, lounging on the couch, talking quietly.

As Azzi sat down next to Caroline, a small sigh escaped her lips. She leaned back into the couch, feeling the weight of their conversation earlier still hanging in her mind. “So,” Azzi began, glancing over at Caroline, “Paige had a talk with me today about the transfer portal. She’s been trying to convince me to come to UConn. And… I think she really wants us both there.” Her voice had a mix of thoughtfulness and uncertainty as she spoke, but the more she said it, the more it made sense.

Caroline raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Really? She said that?”

Azzi nodded, rubbing her hands together absentmindedly. “Yeah, and Geno and CD have been telling her to try and get us both to come. She said that she wants us to be on the same team, you know, with her.” There was a softness in Azzi’s voice as she continued. “She said she wanted to play together, and so did Geno and CD. She really believes we’d be a great fit there.”

Caroline was quiet for a moment, her thoughts clearly racing. “I’ve been thinking about it, Azzi,” Caroline finally said, her eyes meeting Azzi’s. “I mean, UConn would be amazing for both of us. It’s such a great program, and we’d have a real shot to show what we can do. Plus… we’d be together. It would be nice to not be apart, you know?”

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat at Caroline’s words. There was something comforting in hearing that—something that made the decision feel less like a leap and more like a natural step. “I was thinking the same thing,” Azzi admitted, the realization settling in. “And… I think we’re both leaning in the same direction, right?”

Caroline smiled a little, her expression softening. “Yeah. I think we are.” She leaned back into the couch, her arms stretched out behind her. “I think we should go to UConn, Azzi. It feels like the right choice.”

Azzi met Caroline’s gaze, her lips curling into a small, thoughtful smile. “I think so too.”

For a few seconds, there was silence between them, both of them processing the weight of the decision. Azzi then looked down, her hands resting on her knees. “But…” Her voice faltered slightly. “I don’t want to tell Paige just yet. I don’t know… It feels like we should figure it out for ourselves first. Not just because she’s been pushing for it, you know?”

Caroline nodded in understanding, a knowing look crossing her face. “Yeah, I get it. You don’t want it to feel like it’s because of her. We’ll make sure it’s the right decision for us.”

Azzi smiled gratefully at Caroline, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. “Thanks. I just want to be sure, you know? I don’t want to rush into it.”

Caroline gave her a playful nudge. “It’s not like we’re in a rush. Let’s figure it out and then tell Paige when we’re ready. She’ll be happy either way, I’m sure.”

Azzi nodded, still processing everything. It felt good, talking this out with Caroline—knowing they were on the same page. But a part of Azzi still wanted to take her time before sharing the decision with Paige. She didn’t want it to feel like it was just following along with Paige’s desires. It was about what was right for both of them, not just for one person.

Meanwhile, Paige was back in Azzi’s room, busily packing her bags. As she zipped up her suitcase, her mind wandered back to everything she had shared with Azzi earlier. She couldn’t help but feel hopeful, imagining the future they could have, together at UConn. But even though she was excited, she also didn’t want to put any pressure on Azzi to make a decision before she was ready.

Paige shook her head, finishing up the last of her packing. She stepped out into the common area, where Caroline and Azzi were sitting, both looking up as she entered.

Azzi smiled softly at her. “All packed?”

Paige nodded, giving her a small grin. “Yeah. It’s always a bit of a pain, but I’ll survive.”

Caroline gave Azzi a knowing look before standing up. “Well, I think I’m gonna head out for a bit. You two probably need some time to talk about the next steps, right?”

Paige chuckled, but before she could respond, Azzi quickly added, “Yeah, we’re just going to chat for a little bit. We’ll catch up later.”

Caroline grinned. “Sure thing.” And with that, she slipped out, leaving Azzi and Paige alone in the quiet dorm room.

Azzi turned to Paige, her expression thoughtful. “You know… I’ve been thinking about everything you said today. About UConn and the transfer portal. I think it could be a really good opportunity for both me and Caroline.”

Paige’s eyes brightened at Azzi’s words, though she kept her tone casual. “I’m glad to hear that. I just want you to be happy with whatever decision you make, Azzi.”

Azzi met her gaze, her smile soft. “I know. And I appreciate that. I think I’m ready to make the decision soon.”

Paige smiled back, her heart racing a little, not knowing just how close they were to both making that leap—together.

—--------------

Azzi had been planning the arcade date for the entire morning ever since breakfast, wanting to surprise Paige with something fun and lighthearted before the end of her visit. As they walked hand-in-hand to the arcade in the early afternoon, the sun was high and warm, and a gentle breeze followed them. Paige was practically bouncing with excitement when Azzi told her the plan.

“An arcade date?” Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

Azzi chuckled at Paige’s infectious energy. “I thought you’d like it. We can get competitive, you know, and I’ll beat your ass at everything.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming. “In your dreams, Fudd. I’m definitely winning this one.”

The two of them strolled inside, the arcade filled with the sound of flashing lights, clinking coins, and the familiar electronic music of machines. Azzi immediately led Paige to a row of games, and soon enough, they were caught in a whirlwind of competition, teasing each other between rounds.

They started off with air hockey, their faces intense with focus as they smacked the puck back and forth. Paige managed to win the first round, but Azzi was quick to challenge her again, and this time, she came out on top.

“Ha!” Azzi laughed, sticking out her tongue. “I told you I’d win!”

Paige groaned in mock defeat, but she was grinning. “That was such a fluke. But I’ll get you next time.”

They moved to the next game, skee-ball, and Paige was already sizing up the machines with a determined look. The two went back and forth, trying to see who could get the highest score. Azzi tried to focus, but Paige kept giving her teasing side glances, distracting her.

“Wow, I didn’t know we were playing for real,” Azzi said, acting surprised.

Paige raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just too good. You know that.”

Then they headed over to the racing games. Paige was particularly competitive with this one, and she immediately hopped into the seat. Azzi grinned and slid into the seat next to her, revving the virtual engines as they both raced on the screen, each one determined to beat the other.

“Ready to lose?” Paige asked, hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.

Azzi leaned over and whispered with a sly grin, “You wish.”

As the game began, the race was neck and neck, but Paige somehow managed to edge ahead in the final lap, her fingers flexing over the buttons in excitement as the virtual car zoomed past the finish line.

“I win!” Paige exclaimed, raising both hands in the air as the screen flashed.

Azzi laughed and shook her head. “Fine, you won that one. But I’m getting you next time.”

They both took a few steps away from the racing game, their competitive energy still buzzing in the air. But then something caught Azzi’s eye in the corner of the arcade—a vintage photo booth. The faded pink and blue lights surrounding it made it look nostalgic and inviting. Azzi’s face lit up as she tugged Paige toward it.

“Let’s take some pictures!” Azzi suggested, her voice playful.

Paige raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You mean… you want me to get into that tiny booth with you?”

Azzi laughed and gave Paige a wink. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We can make silly faces.”

Paige hesitated for a second but then grinned. “Fine. But I’m not making any stupid faces.”

They squeezed inside the photo booth together, and Azzi quickly slid the curtain shut, leaving just enough room for both of them to fit. Paige was already trying to adjust her hair, making sure she looked good for the photos. Azzi leaned back against the corner, her eyes twinkling. “Okay, first one—smile!” she said, leaning into Paige with a playful glint in her eyes.

The camera clicked, and they both smiled wide, their eyes meeting as they giggled. The first photo came out, and both of them took a moment to adjust their hair and faces.

“Alright, let’s try something silly for the next one,” Azzi suggested, her hand resting lightly on Paige’s arm.

Paige nodded with a grin. “Ok ok, I can do that. Watch this.”

They pulled exaggerated faces for the second photo—Azzi sticking her tongue out and Paige crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out as well—just before the camera flashed again, capturing their silliness. The second picture came out, and both of them burst into laughter, the silliness only making them feel closer.

The third shot was more relaxed. Azzi turned slightly toward Paige, her smile softening as their shoulders brushed. Paige rested her hand on Azzi’s thigh as they posed for the photo, the warmth between them growing with each passing second. Their laughter died down into a contented silence as the camera flashed once more, capturing the ease between them.

When the fourth picture began to print, the playful atmosphere shifted slightly. Azzi leaned in close to Paige, her lips parting as if she were thinking about something, but before she could speak, she met Paige’s gaze. There was an unspoken connection in that moment, a quiet tension that felt electric.

“Okay,” Azzi said softly, “let’s make this last one a bit different.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, sensing the change in the air. “Different how?”

Azzi didn’t answer with words—she simply leaned in closer, her lips brushing Paige’s ear. “Let’s kiss for this one,” Azzi whispered, her voice low, teasing yet full of affection.

Paige’s heart raced in her chest, and without thinking, she closed the distance between them. She leaned in to kiss Azzi softly, their lips meeting gently at first, then deepening as their chemistry sparked. In that moment, it felt like time slowed down, their connection more palpable than ever. Paige’s hand, still resting on Azzi’s thigh, gave a subtle squeeze, and she felt Azzi respond, shifting ever so slightly to press herself closer. The last click of the camera echoed in the small booth, capturing that intimate moment between them.

They didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, they stayed there, lips still pressed together in a slow, tender kiss that said more than words ever could. The photo booth printed out the final picture, and when they finally broke apart, they both took a deep breath, their faces flushed with the warmth of the kiss.

Azzi smiled at Paige, her hand reaching for the prints. “I think this one’s going on my wall.”

Paige laughed softly, a light, affectionate tone in her voice. “I think you might be right. I’m keeping mine, though. It’s too cute.”

They each took a copy for themselves of the strip of pictures, sliding it into their pockets for safekeeping.

After they left the photo booth, the playful mood between Azzi and Paige hadn’t worn off in the slightest. They wandered through the arcade for a bit longer, trying out a few more games and chatting between rounds. But eventually, Azzi’s eyes brightened when she spotted the sign for Laser Tag.

“Laser tag?” Azzi asked with a grin, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think, should we do it?”

Paige’s eyes lit up. “I’m so in for that! Are we going to be on the same team, or are you going to try to beat me at that too?”

Azzi smirked. “Oh, we’re definitely not going to be on the same team. I want to see how good you are under pressure.”

Paige scoffed, looking playfully offended. “Oh, it’s on now. Prepare to lose, princess.”

Azzi chuckled, nudging Paige in the ribs. “We’ll see about that.”

They made their way over to the laser tag area, where a group of other players was already waiting for their turn. Azzi and Paige signed up, each selecting their color-coded teams. Paige was assigned to the red team, and Azzi to the blue.

Azzi glanced over at Paige with a smirk as they suited up in the vests and strapped on their laser guns. The arena was dimly lit, with neon lights and fog machines creating an atmosphere that felt like they were about to step into another world. The air was electric with excitement, and the other players buzzed with anticipation, too.

“Don’t get too cocky, Bueckers,” Azzi teased, her voice playful yet serious. “I’m going to outmaneuver you.”

Paige raised her eyebrows as she adjusted the vest. “Bring it on. Just remember, you started this.”

The game started, and they both split into their respective teams. The arena’s lights flickered, and the countdown echoed through the room as the buzzer rang.

“Go!” someone yelled, and in an instant, the two teams scattered.

Paige didn’t waste any time. She dashed into the maze of ramps and pillars, scanning the area for opponents. The beams of light from the laser guns shot across the dimly lit arena, creating a chaotic but exciting battlefield. Her heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through her veins. She moved with purpose, keeping her eyes open for the first person to get in her sights.

Meanwhile, Azzi was just as focused. She ducked behind a structure and carefully checked her surroundings before making her move. Azzi’s competitive streak had come alive, and she wasn’t about to let Paige have the upper hand. She spotted someone from the other team and quickly aimed, her laser gun firing with precision. The target lit up, and she grinned in satisfaction.

Paige was on the move again, keeping her eyes on her own team’s progress as she searched for Azzi. She knew she couldn’t underestimate her—Azzi was good. Very good. She quickly darted into a new hiding spot, pressing her back to one of the pillars.

Then, from across the arena, Paige saw her. Azzi, seemingly out of nowhere, had appeared near the top of one of the ramps, aiming at a member of Paige’s team. Paige’s eyes narrowed, and she adjusted her grip on her laser gun. She had to be fast.

Without thinking, Paige sprinted toward Azzi’s position, ducking behind obstacles and leaping over ramps as she closed the gap. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. The moment she peeked her head out to line up the shot, Azzi saw her.

“Not fast enough!” Azzi yelled, smirking as she fired her gun, hitting one of Paige’s teammates.

But Paige was quick to retaliate. In a blink, she aimed and fired directly at Azzi, and she saw the confirmation light blink on Azzi’s vest.

“Yes!” Paige grinned, sticking her tongue out. “Gotcha.”

Azzi playfully pouted, then flashed Paige a teasing smile. “Okay, okay. You’re good.”

The game continued, both teams getting a few more shots in, each side trading victories and near-misses. Paige and Azzi were clearly having a blast, but there was still an unspoken tension between them, the desire to outdo each other making the experience all the more thrilling.

When the game finally ended, the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, letting everyone know the results. Paige’s team had won by a narrow margin, but only because Azzi had spent a little too much time enjoying the competition with Paige.

Azzi shot Paige a look of mock annoyance as they met up at the exit. “Okay, fine. You won. But only because I was distracted by you.”

Paige smirked and shrugged, a playful gleam in her eye. “Distracted by me, huh? I guess I’m just that distracting.”

Azzi crossed her arms and pretended to glare, though her eyes softened with affection. “Whatever. Just wait ‘til next time.”

Paige laughed and nudged her. “Next time, you’re going down, Fudd.”

The two of them laughed as they walked back toward the exit, their hands finding each other naturally. Even with the teasing, the competition, and the game, it was clear that they were enjoying each other’s company—more than ever.

“We need to do this again,” Paige said, still grinning.

Azzi nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. But next time, we’ll be on the same team. No more winning at my expense.”

Paige raised an eyebrow playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

As they made their way out of the arena, the air still electric from the game, Paige couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through her chest. It was moments like this—simple, fun, yet undeniably special—that made her grateful for the time they had together.

—--------------

The air outside had started to cool as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a gentle twilight settling over the city. Paige and Azzi, still feeling the lingering energy from their afternoon together, stood on the sidewalk, looking at each other with that familiar spark in their eyes. The tension between them hadn’t completely faded—it was still there, hanging in the air, but it was different now. It was playful, teasing, and a little flirtatious.

“So, what do you think? Should we keep this night going?” Azzi asked, her voice light but laced with a hint of mischief.

Paige raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What did you have in mind?”

Azzi grinned. “Karaoke.”

Paige chuckled, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh, you want to embarrass me in front of a crowd, huh?”

Azzi shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nah. I just want you to have fun, babe. It’s all about enjoying the moment.”

Paige couldn’t help but laugh. “I should’ve known you’d be the one to suggest karaoke.”

“Come on,” Azzi said, pulling her by the hand toward the bar just a block away. “It’ll be fun. And I’m way better at singing than you.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I’ll believe that when I hear it.”

They entered the bar, which had a cozy, yet buzzing vibe. The lighting was low, and the sound of laughter and chatter filled the air. A hostess greeted them at the door and led them to a private karaoke room at the back. The room was plush, with soft leather seating along the walls and a screen in the center where the lyrics would appear. A microphone sat on a stand in the middle of the room, and a small table in the corner was already stocked with drinks and snacks.

Azzi flopped down onto one of the seats, kicking off her shoes. “I’m telling you now, Paige, I’m going to crush you in this. Prepare to be impressed.”

Paige rolled her eyes but plopped down next to her. “We’ll see about that. I bet you can’t even hit the high notes.”

Azzi grinned, teasing her with a playful look. “I’m just setting the stage, Bueckers. Let’s start with something easy. You do like SZA, right?”

“Of course,” Paige replied, grabbing a drink and taking a sip. “But you do realize, I’ve got a mean voice, right?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow and picked up the karaoke remote. “You’re about to find out.”

She quickly selected a song—“Good Days” by SZA—and the intro began to play. Both of them exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.

“Oh god,” Paige said between giggles, “this is going to be hilarious.”

They began singing, but for the most part, neither of them took it too seriously. They belted out the lyrics, off-key more than once, while cracking up every time they hit a wrong note. Azzi’s voice was smooth and confident, but Paige’s enthusiasm more than made up for it. They harmonized when they could, but mostly they were just laughing, goofing off, and having fun.

At one point, Azzi was in the middle of a line, and Paige couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Wait, hold on! I wasn’t even ready for that note!” Paige’s laugh was infectious, and soon, they were both holding their stomachs as they tried to get through the chorus.

“You’re terrible!” Azzi said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I thought you said you could sing!”

“I never said I could sing well!” Paige retorted, still chuckling.

Halfway through the song, they’d both abandoned trying to sing properly, instead focusing on cracking each other up. The karaoke machine flashed “Singing with Heart!” as a message to remind them of their lack of effort, but neither of them cared.

When the song finally ended, they collapsed into their seats, catching their breath from all the laughing. “Okay,” Paige gasped, “that was actually fun. And maybe you’re a little better than I thought.”

Azzi grinned, pleased with herself. “I told you.”

Right as the laughter started to subside, a server brought in their order—pizza, chips, and a few more drinks. “We’re going to need some fuel for the next round,” the waiter said with a smile before leaving the room.

Paige immediately reached for a slice of pizza and handed one to Azzi. “You know what this night needs? A banger.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of her pizza. “What’s your idea of a banger?”

Paige smirked. “How about some I Don’t Fuck With You by Big Sean?”

Azzi nearly choked on her pizza. “No way! You want us to sing that?”

Paige shrugged, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “It’s perfect. You’re already getting the hang of this, and besides, we’re having fun.”

Azzi thought for a second, then grinned. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Paige selected the song, and the beat kicked in with the iconic intro. Azzi’s eyes lit up. “This is going to be great.”

They both got into it, rapping the verses and shouting the chorus with all the energy they could muster. Neither of them could keep a straight face, especially as they got louder and more dramatic with every line. They didn’t take themselves seriously at all, but the playful energy between them made it even more fun.

When they hit the part “I don’t fuck with you,” they both leaned toward each other, laughing so hard they couldn’t catch their breath. It was obvious neither of them knew every word perfectly, but they made it work with their laughter and exaggerated moves, practically throwing themselves into the performance.

Every now and then, Azzi would bump her shoulder into Paige’s, and Paige would wink at her. Every time they shared a look or a laugh, the chemistry between them was undeniable. They didn’t even realize how close they were, how their bodies naturally gravitated toward each other, the touch of their hands becoming more frequent. By the time the song was almost done, Paige was leaning into Azzi, her arm wrapped loosely around Azzi’s waist as they rapped the last few lines together.

Paige’s thumb brushed across Azzi’s side, making her shiver slightly, and for a second, the fun vibe shifted. They shared a look, the air between them suddenly heavy with something more than just laughter. It was that undeniable, quiet tension—something they’d been dancing around for a while during the day today. Paige’s hand settled more firmly on Azzi’s side, squeezing gently, and Azzi’s breath hitched.

Without a word, Paige leaned in slowly, and before either of them knew it, their lips met again, this time with more intention. It was soft at first, but then Azzi pressed in closer, one hand resting on Paige’s shoulder while the other found its way to Paige’s neck, pulling her in deeper. Paige’s hand slid down Azzi’s side, fingers grazing her hip, their kiss growing more heated and intimate by the second.

They broke away for a moment, both of them slightly breathless, but neither of them moved far apart. Their foreheads rested against each other, both of them smiling, yet something unspoken lingered between them.

“Looks like we might’ve just started a new tradition,” Azzi whispered, her lips barely brushing Paige’s.

Paige smirked, teasing. “Only if you promise to let me win next time.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll think about it. But for now…” She kissed Paige’s forehead. “I think we’ve earned another round.”

And with that, they dove back into their playful, intimate moment, lost in the music, the laughter, and each other’s company.

—--------------

As the night continued, the atmosphere between Paige and Azzi grew even more intimate. The playful teasing from the karaoke room began to shift into something deeper. Their laughter died down, and in its place, an undeniable connection between them was more palpable than ever.

Azzi’s hand found Paige’s again as they sat side by side, the energy between them quiet but intense. Every touch, every glance, seemed to carry more weight now, both of them aware of the sparks they were playing with. Paige, still feeling the warmth of Azzi’s touch, leaned closer to her, her voice softening.

“Thank you for today,” Paige said, her words sincere as she gently squeezed Azzi’s hand. “This has been so much fun, seriously. I needed this. I needed you.”

Azzi smiled, her eyes softening as she gazed back at Paige. “I’m happy to see you happy, Bueckers,” she replied, her voice low but filled with affection. “You deserve it, after everything. I’m glad you came here.”

Paige couldn’t help but smile back, her heart swelling at the sound of Azzi’s words. She tilted her head slightly, letting her gaze linger on Azzi for a moment before she leaned in, brushing her lips against Azzi’s in a quick but sweet kiss.

The moment was perfect—filled with warmth, tenderness, and the undeniable connection they shared. But as time wore on, reality slowly began to sink in. They checked the time and saw that it was getting late. Paige had to leave soon, her flight back to Storrs looming in the morning. The thought of leaving was bittersweet.

Azzi gently pulled away from Paige, her hand still resting on Paige’s, and stood up. “We should probably head back to my dorm,” Azzi said with a soft sigh, her voice tinged with a bit of reluctance. “I don’t want this night to end, but I know it’s getting late.”

Paige nodded, her smile soft. “Yeah, I know. But it’s been a perfect day.” She rose to her feet, following Azzi as they left the karaoke room, the energy still lingering between them like a comfortable warmth.

They walked back to Azzi’s dorm, hand in hand, the night air cool against their skin as they moved through the streets, neither of them wanting to let go of the closeness they’d found. It felt like time had slowed down, giving them just a little more time to savor the moments they had left before Paige would have to leave.

Once they arrived at Azzi’s dorm, they slipped into the common area, where Caroline was lounging on the couch. She looked up at the sound of their footsteps, her face lighting up with a smile when she saw them together.

“How was your guy's day today?” Caroline asked, her tone warm and teasing, clearly knowing something had shifted between them.

Azzi and Paige shared a knowing look, both of them grinning. Azzi pulled the photo strip out of her pocket, her fingers brushing over the small pictures they had taken together earlier. “It was amazing,” Azzi said softly, handing the photo strip to Caroline. “We took these. Look.”

Caroline took the strip, her eyes flickering over the pictures as she smiled. “Aww, you two are so cute,” she said, her voice light with joy. She looked up at them, her expression genuinely happy. “I’m really glad you both figured things out. You two deserve to be happy.”

Azzi and Paige exchanged a quiet, contented smile, both feeling the weight of Caroline’s words. They hadn’t fully realized how much they’d needed to hear that until now. Azzi squeezed Paige’s hand gently, her eyes flickering with affection.

“Thanks, Caroline,” Paige said, her voice soft but sincere. “I’m glad I came here… for her.”

Caroline beamed, clearly happy for them. “Well, I’m glad you did, too.”

With a soft chuckle, Azzi led Paige down the hallway to her room. “Come on,” she said, her voice playful but full of warmth. “Let’s get some rest. I’m pretty sure we’ll need it.”

Once they reached Azzi’s room, the door shut behind them softly, the sound of the lock clicking into place. Paige turned to Azzi, her smile soft, her heart full. She glanced at the photo strip again, tracing the edges of the pictures with her fingers.

“It feels real now,” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible. “Like, really real.”

Azzi nodded, her gaze steady on Paige. “It does,” she replied quietly. “And I’m happy it is.”

The two of them stood there for a moment, the weight of their connection settling between them. It had been a long journey to get here, full of ups and downs, but now—here, in this moment—it felt like everything had fallen into place.

“I’m gonna miss you tomorrow,” Paige said after a beat, her voice soft but laced with sincerity.

Azzi smiled, her eyes softening with affection. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

They lingered there for a few more moments, the tension in the air now replaced with something much more tender. Paige reached out, gently cupping Azzi’s cheek before pulling her in for a soft kiss, feeling the warmth of Azzi’s lips against hers. The kiss was slow and sweet, a gentle affirmation of everything they had between them.

—--------------

As the night stretched on, Azzi, exhausted from the day’s adventures, slowly settled into the bed, her head resting on the pillow. Paige, watching her, smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection as she saw Azzi’s peaceful expression. Azzi’s breathing began to slow, and within moments, she was fast asleep, the gentle rise and fall of her chest signaling her deep slumber.

Paige took a deep breath, glancing over at Azzi one last time before pulling her phone out of her pocket. She unlocked it and opened the group chat with Geno and CD, her fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before she started typing.

Paige: Hey, so I’ve been convincing Azzi and Caroline about UConn. I think it’s working. They seem to be leaning toward it.

She sent the message, her eyes briefly scanning over the words, her thoughts briefly drifting to the possibility of everything working out the way she hoped. Her thumb hovered over the screen again, typing out another message.

Paige: They’re still undecided, but I can tell Azzi’s starting to warm up to the idea. We might just be able to pull this off.

A few seconds later, Geno’s reply pinged back, followed quickly by CD’s.

Geno: Good. We’ve got a good program, and I think they’d be a great fit. Just keep doing what you’re doing.

CD: Yeah, keep at it. Glad to hear it’s working. See you soon at practice.

Paige smiled at their responses. She’d been nervous, unsure if her efforts would be enough, but now that she had some reassurance, she felt more confident. She put her phone down on the nightstand, her heart at ease.

Turning back to Azzi, Paige pulled the blanket up just a little higher, ensuring she was comfortable before lying down beside her. The soft sound of Azzi’s steady breathing was soothing, and Paige couldn’t help but smile as she closed her eyes. It had been a long journey, but it felt like things were finally falling into place.

She whispered softly to herself, “This is just the beginning.” And with that, she let sleep take over, her hand finding Azzi’s beneath the covers as they drifted into a peaceful slumber together.

—--------------

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the blinds of Azzi’s room, gently waking the trio. Paige stretched as she yawned, glancing at the clock. Her flight wasn’t until later in the afternoon, but it felt like time was slipping away too quickly. She didn’t want to leave just yet, but at the same time, she knew she’d be back soon. The thought of going back to Storrs felt distant, almost surreal, after the whirlwind days spent with Azzi.

Azzi and Caroline were already up, chatting quietly as Paige stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. The sound of laughter from the living room filtered in, and Paige smiled, knowing that no matter what happened next, this trip had been worth it.

“Hey, breakfast?” Azzi called from the kitchen, a mischievous grin on her face. “You can’t leave without one last good meal.”

Caroline nodded, walking past Paige to grab her jacket. “Yeah, let’s go. We’ll make it count.”

The three of them headed to a nearby café that Paige and Azzi had gone to yesterday, a cozy spot with warm sunlight pouring in through the windows. They settled into a booth near the front, the smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling food making Paige’s stomach rumble. They ordered savory items—toast with avocado, scrambled eggs, and a side of fruit.

As they ate, Caroline, ever the photographer, pulled out her phone. She leaned back slightly in her seat, waiting for the perfect moment.

“Alright, you two, smile!” Caroline said, her camera poised. “You both look adorable together. Just one for the memories.”

Azzi and Paige shared a glance, their smiles easy and natural, just like the connection between them. Paige leaned in slightly, their shoulders brushing, and Azzi tilting her heads towards Paige as they both grinned at the camera. Caroline snapped the shot quickly, satisfied with the candid moment.

She looked down at her phone, scrolling through the picture. “This looks perfect. Mind if I post it?” she asked, showing them the image.

Paige and Azzi shared another glance before nodding in agreement.

“Go for it,” Paige said with a shrug, though her eyes softened as she smiled at Azzi.

Caroline quickly typed a simple caption: “Breakfast with my faves🥰.” She posted it, keeping things lowkey—nothing too obvious, just a casual shot between friends.

“Alright, let’s go,” Caroline said, tucking her phone away after the post was live. “We’ve got a flight to catch… eventually.”

The three of them drove to the airport, the air crisp and cool as they drove through the parking lot. The drive had been lighthearted, filled with music and jokes, but now that they were here, Paige couldn’t help but feel the weight of leaving. She wasn’t leaving because she wanted to—it was just a part of the plan. She had her responsibilities back at UConn, but a piece of her wanted to stay longer, savor the quiet moments with Azzi.

When they reached the airport, they said their goodbyes at the entrance, but Azzi and Caroline insisted on staying with Paige until her flight was ready to board.

“We’re not saying goodbye yet,” Azzi said with a soft smile, her fingers grazing Paige’s.

Caroline nodded in agreement. “We’ve still got time. No rush.”

They lingered in the airport, walking through the terminals, talking, and enjoying the last little moments they had together before Paige’s departure. It felt like they had all the time in the world, but Paige knew it was slipping away. The departure was inevitable, but so was the promise that this wasn’t the end.

—--------------

As the time ticked by, they finally reached the gate, and Paige checked in for her flight. There was still a little time before boarding, and she knew Azzi and Caroline would be with her until the very last moment.

The hum of the airport was steady, but the quiet between the three of them was filled with unspoken words. It was one of those moments where they all knew what was coming but didn’t want to acknowledge it just yet. The announcement for Paige’s flight echoed through the speakers, snapping the silence into focus.

“Attention, passengers on Flight 1264 to Hartford, we are now boarding. Please make your way to the gate.”

Paige took a deep breath and glanced down at Azzi, who was standing beside her, her eyes filled with something softer than sadness. There was a quiet strength in the way Azzi looked at her, the kind of look that made Paige feel like everything had fallen into place, despite the uncertainty of their situation.

“Guess this is it,” Paige said, her voice light but carrying a weight. She turned to Caroline, giving her a quick but sincere hug. “Take care of her, alright?”

Caroline smirked as she hugged Paige back tightly. “You know I will, but you better not forget about me when you’re back at UConn. I’ll be watching.”

Paige chuckled, ruffling Caroline’s hair. “Don’t worry, you’re impossible to forget.”

As Caroline stepped back, she pulled out her phone, her eyes twinkling with something mischievous. “You two,” she said, her voice quieter now, “are perfect.”

Paige turned toward Azzi, who was standing close by, her gaze full of quiet affection. There was a pause, a heartbeat where neither of them wanted to let go of the moment they were in. Then, without a word, they embraced, and Paige pressed a soft kiss to Azzi’s lips.

“Bye Baby,” Paige whispered against Azzi’s lips, her voice laced with affection and a little sadness. “I love you.”

Azzi smiled softly, her fingers brushing the side of Paige’s face. “I love you, too.”

The words felt like a promise, like a bond that had only grown stronger in the time they had spent together. Paige pulled back just enough to look at Azzi’s face, memorizing the look in her eyes, as if trying to hold onto that very moment.

Caroline, ever the observer, was quick to snap a picture of the two of them, capturing the warmth in the hug, the quiet kiss, and the gentle affection that surrounded them. She knew this moment was for them, something for just the two of them to keep.

As Paige pulled back from Azzi and turned toward the gate, she shot one last smile at both of them. “Remember what I said about you two at UConn. No funny business, alright?” she teased with a wink.

Azzi’s laugh rang out, full of fondness. “We’ll see,” she said playfully, but there was no doubt in her voice—only the quiet understanding that they had something real.

With one final wave, Paige turned toward the boarding tunnel, her heart heavy but light all at once. As she walked away, the image of Azzi and Caroline remained in her mind—two people who had become so much more than just friends. The connection between Paige and Azzi had only grown stronger, even with the distance between them.

In that moment, Paige knew that no matter what the future held, what they shared would always remain. It was a bond forged in something deeper than time or distance. As the plane’s engines roared to life, taking her further away, she carried that strength with her, knowing Azzi was just a heartbeat away, no matter where they were.

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

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #wbb

147 notes · View notes

zepskies · 10 hours ago

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Oh God, not Black Noir version! 🖤 😭😭

But lmao yeah for real, there were parts where I was like, "Oh, so he really is the worst version of himself here, even with her." Now I know it has a double meaning... 😏

And HOLY FUCKING SHIT - I was right?!?! And I picked up on some of those threads you mentioned omfgggggg. Wayne, you're a genius for real. You've outdone yourself on such a complex and wonderfully woven, full-circle plot twist! 😭😭

Oh yeah, I did pick up on the way those questions were oddly specific lmao. But now I'm thinking of how Ben must've felt seeing her again after coming out of cryo in Russia. He must've been so confused/happy, but also thinking "WTF" since she wouldn't "remember" him.

If you remember that S3 finale flashback in Chapter 3, he even asked her if she ever saw him during her adventures, and she said Woodstock lol (I can see him internally deflate at that answer back then 😂).

Oh my God, yes I do remember that!!! When I start rereading these chapters as you post them on Tumblr it's going to be so wild for me now that I've pieced the "mystery" together. 🤯🤯🤯 It's like when you find the big twist in the thriller novel, now you have to go back and reread the whole book to pinpoint all the other little clues you inherently felt were clues along the way. 🤩🤩

Alright, let's give diabolically street-smart Benjamin some credit here: He probably broke his brain trying to figure it all out (because I sure as hell did ��), but he could've, A, been super pissed about it and killed her instantly (which fair enough lmao), or B, decided to tell her what happened (which would've disrupted the loop upon closer inspection), so only C remained – recreate the circumstances 🤷‍♀️

lmfaooo ok, so the biggest clue for me in chapter 1 was honestly the way he grabbed her and touched her against her will. I was so fucking mad at him -- like he's already pushing her buttons so much, does he really need to get grabby too?

So now it even puts that aspect of the scene into further perspective - the way he went full in knowing "this was the day"!

Zeppelin shirt? check.

Birthday? check.

SB: 😈😈😈

When she gets back, I can only IMAGINE how fucking cocky and insufferable he's going to be about the whole thing. 🙄

And it totally makes sense that you get a lot of these hints during a second read! I felt the same way about If I Stay! All these other things suddenly started to pop up and by rereading certain parts I became super sus of Benny 😂👏 (And I figured out where the age confusion with Dean for some might have come in – it wasn't your characterization of Dean but I think Sam x Eileen makes one automatically imagine he's older, maybe?? 💡🤯)

You know what, yeah, I have had this thought in hindsight so I'm glad you bring this up. I'm wishing that I had outright said Dean's age! (It will be mentioned in the epilogue.) I sometimes avoid it for AUs because people tend to imagine Dean how they prefer to imagine him age-wise, but for If I Stay, people understanding that Dean and reader being in their early 20s to start with really does matter for their characterization and the overall story. It does make sense that people would associate Dean in his 40s with Sam x Eileen. 😅

Long story (somwhat) short, time travel is fucking complicated to write about, time loops are even more complex because you have to keep track of everything and think ahead so much, and I think I might have broken my poor brain with this one 😂😂🙈

Girl you achieved something truly impressive from the onset. Time travel plot lines run the risk of becoming so convoluted (re: Avengers: Endgame), and you've navigated it seamlessly. 🤩👏🏽🫶🏽

The clues were subtle enough that certain things struck a bell inside me when I was reading the first time around on chapters 1-4, but it didn't truly sink in until I read chapter 1 the second time. 💛

Thank you!! I really wanted to give him someone he didn't have to lose again (🥲), and that worked out perfectly with her abilities and existing theories regarding this. Interstellar did a great job at showing it when MC drops into that wormhole library/visits other planets. So travelling a lot would make her age slower, and she did a lot of that before her PTSD lol

Omg yeah! Such a great point about Interstellar. I love learning the little inspirations behind key plot points like that. 💛 And Ben being paired with someone he doesn't have to lose is definitely a thing I considered too on BMD. I had to bend science to my will on that one, but I found a "fix" for that with SB/Ben x reader that actually came from my love of Smallville! 😆❤️💙

She reminds me a lot of Supernatural "Simon Said" Andy in that regard – just happy in a van with a bong lmao.

lmfaooo YES, I totally got that vibe when she said she was more like a hedonist than the other power-hungry supes out there. 😂😂

Aww, thank you so much, Alex! Truly!!! Your comments always make me so happy and I just love chatting with you and exchanging wild theories 🥹🩵

Aww you're so welcome, friend! You deserve every bit of it and more. I admire your writing a lot -- clearly one of the ways being your ability to write such intricate and well plotted out storylines that suck you in from the very beginning. 💛

I haven't read any 1940s Ben fics on purpose yet till I got my own HCs out of my system as not to get confused or influenced by someone else's if that makes sense 😅 But I plan to dive into Lee's 1940s version of Ben after tackling TACOM (and BDM btw – I wanna read those two next 😏) because I know she has one too 😍

Ooh yeah I don't blame you! Don't want to accidentally copy someone just because the idea is rattling around in your head. I also have Lee's You Call It Madness on my list. TACOM is such a fun ride too. That's actually the first fic I read of hers! The reader being a supe that can control plants definitely reminded me of Sky High. 💚

Omg I really think (hope) you'll like BMD! 💚💚 Their journey was my first real exploration of Soldier Boy and how to redeem the character, and like TAT, it also has that Beauty & the Beast vibe lol. It's also enemies to lovers, grumpy/sunshine feel, with a dash of kidnapping and childhood trauma thrown into the mix. 😅

(Plus, there's a little easter egg for you in Part 7 from one of your hilarious Brazilian wax comments on Part 1. 😜)

(And I was never too big on the Marvel franchise, but I'm more a Tony/Peter Parker/Deadpool girl than a Bucky/Steve/Logan girl I guess 😂)

I don't blame you lol. I fell off it myself after the last Avengers movie's truly shit ending, but the first couple waves of movies were so awesome to me in high school/college years. 😂

Anyway, once again love what you've done with TAT so far, and I'm so excited to dig into more very soon! 💛

Time After Time – Chapter 1

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, angst, Soldier Boy being an insufferable ass, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), post S3 alternate ending, enemies to lovers & slow burn, set partially in 1942

Word Count: 6.0k

Posted on Patreon March 1, 2025

A/N: Weeee, so excited to finally share the first part of this series with all of you! From mortal enemies to classic romance, crazy and angsty time travel theories, and a glimpse behind the green suit (in both ways), we're gonna have a lot of fun with this one 😉💕

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Of All the Gin Joints...

“Move, or I’ll move you.”

Annoyed, you huffed a sigh and lifted your feet off the coffee table, shifting a few inches to the right, so Soldier Boy could pass by with a deep grumble. You rolled your eyes back slightly when he plopped down next to you on the worn, old couch in the office of the Flatiron Building.

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt you every once in a while,” you muttered with a glare at the supe.

“Disagree,” he huffed.

When Butcher and his team tracked you down and recruited you almost a year ago, you surely hadn’t signed up to spend your days with a fossil from the past century. All they had wanted you to do was find the weapon that could destroy Homelander. That weapon turned out to be Soldier Boy.

And you had found him, freed the man from forty years of Russian torture without receiving so much as a ‘thank you,’ and helped the team take down Homelander, who was currently powerless and safely locked up in a CIA black site. Now, you were still here – as was Soldier Boy.

To your dismay, he wasn’t just the most powerful supe on the planet, especially after his own son’s steep fall from grace, but he was also the biggest motherfucking asshole that ever walked the earth.

Soldier Boy was obnoxious, loud, rude, sexist, racist, lazy, arrogant, selfish, cruel, deceitful, complacent, vindictive, inconsiderate, paranoid, ruthless and unsympathetic. Honestly, you’d need a whole dictionary just to get through every single character trait you hated about that man.

This morning he’d been particularly belligerent as soon as he had set foot inside the office and Hughie bumped into him, causing Soldier Boy to spill his iced latte. To be fair, the guy had just been standing in the doorway like a moron for a full three minutes – he’d stared at you the whole time, probably thinking of new ways to torture you.

Today marked your 30th birthday of all things, so it was only natural your over six-feet playground tormentor would be present for the occasion.

“Led Zeppelin, huh?” he noted with an arched brow, eyeing your choice of outfit. You mostly wore band shirts from tours you’d been to from your time traveling adventures.

“Yeah, I got it for my twenty-fifth birthday. I went to Zeppelin’s first tour in 1969. Only wear it on special occasions,” you told him with a smile.

In some rare moments, it was actually possible to have a normal fucking conversation with him. You hoped it was one of those. Aside from his grumpiness in the morning, maybe he’d decided to give you a break on your birthday.

“Oh, yeah, right…” He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Happy fucking birthday, I guess.”

“That is so sweet of you, thank you,” you replied wryly.

He knew what you were doing. His smile rose – and then morphed into a provocative smirk. “So, thirty, huh? How’s that feminist bullshit working out for your biological clock, sweetheart?”

“Don’t kill him,” Annie reminded you of the office mantra with calm in her voice as she sat behind you at her desk, causing Soldier Boy to snort a laugh.

“Isn’t it time for your nap, gramps? You’re sundowning,” you retorted instead with a teasing smile.

You took his taunts lightheartedly. After all, you didn’t think you’d have to worry in that department – much like him. For some reason, you didn’t age… a lot. At least, it was slower than the average supe and human. You figured it might have to do with dropping in and out of wormholes. You had aged just fine as a kid but it progressively began to slow around your sixteenth birthday – the first time you’d traveled through time and jumped to Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged show in New York of December 1993.

You remembered your parents had been fighting behind the broken and yellowing partition slider of a trailer you had called your home. You’d lain on the pull-out bed with your headphones on and a Walkmen, trying to drown out their screaming. You listened to that record and wished you could be there – and then you were.

You’d found your ruby slippers.

To this day, you still got ID’ed at every bar, club, and liquor store alike. Soldier Boy had never been carded. He’d once claimed it was because he was famous, to which you’d almost spat out your drink and told him the wrinkles didn’t lie. Least to say, that little joke hadn’t flown well with the supe.

“You know, doll, if you ever need that tension to disappear from your shoulders, I’m right here.” Soldier Boy smirked cockily at you and spread his legs a little further apart. Not a day passed by when he didn’t hit on you either – or anything with tits, really. “Just say the word, and I fuck it right outta you. I do like ‘em older, you know, so I don’t give shit. But if you wanna get cracking on this baby thing, we better fuck on this couch right now.”

“Please don’t,” Hughie pleaded in a high-pitched sigh, glued in his spot next to Annie.

“No, thanks,” you scoffed and scrunched your nose in disgust. “You’re a fucking pig.”

“Hey, c’mon, I know you want to,” replied Soldier Boy without an ounce of self-reflection, his smirk only widening as his hand crawled up your thigh. “Bet you’ve been waiting for a big dick like mine, haven’t you?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You slapped his fingers away, huffing in frustration.

Not even your kindergarten bully had been this fucking annoying – and that kid threw a dodge ball at your face and broke your nose.

Fortunately, while your own powers were on the fritz, you still had some superhuman strength. Sure, not as much as Soldier Boy, but if he shoved, you could at least push back enough for him to leave you alone.

For, like, five seconds.

Soldier Boy laughed loudly at your rejection. “I do like ‘em feisty,” he murmured with a sultry voice, invading your space even more as he shifted closer on the couch. Lion king on the prowl. “You know, you’d be less useless if you spread your legs every once in a while.”

Jumping up from your seat, you rounded the table to bring space between you and face him properly. It was always smarter when he was in your view at all times and you could watch his brazen hands with an eagle eye – the same hands that currently began to roll a blunt on the coffee table.

“Hey, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be frozen solid in a box in Russia,” you bit.

“Well, we’d like to think we would’ve found him eventually, love,” Butcher threw in from across the room, the sly grin on his face telling you he was enjoying the show.

“See?” Soldier Boy sneered complacently. “Fucking useless.”

“You’re fucking useless!” you yelled, anger surging through every inch of your body. “No one fucking likes you! You don’t have friends, you don’t have family, and everyone in this room fucking despises you – just like your old team!”

Slowly, he rose from his spot on the couch, nostrils flaring, his sheer height imposing as he towered over you like the Empire State. A part of you was glad there was still a piece of furniture between you – even though that wouldn’t stop him in the slightest.

“You take that fucking back,” he snarled, one hand balling into a fist by his side while the other pointed a warning finger at you.

However, you stood your ground, crossing your arms in front of your chest, a challenging look in your eyes but a subtle swallow in your throat. “No,” you said defiantly and bristled. “I’ll drop you into the fucking Jurassic era where you belong, fossil. Watch you become a T-Rex’s fucking chew toy.”

Soldier Boy’s grin boldly widened, green eyes shimmering daringly. “Do. It.”

“Oy, simmer down, kids,” Butcher assuaged but didn’t even bother to glance up from the newspaper in his hands. Instead, the Brit leaned back in his chair and threw his legs up on the desk, settling into a more comfortable position.

Soldier Boy threw him a dismissive look, annoyed at the interruption, before his attention turned back to you with a spiteful sneer. “You know, if I were you, I would’ve used those powers properly. I would’ve gone back and fucking killed baby Hitler or some shit.”

You scoffed a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, not surprising you would’ve killed a fucking baby,” you retorted dryly.

“See, this is why you’re a fucking failure,” he taunted and stepped closer, his face only inches away from yours now. You could feel his hot breath against your skin. “Those powers were clearly wasted on you, doll. Women are too fucking soft.”

You snorted, shaking your head. You didn’t even know why you still argued with that asshole. He’d never change. And you sure as hell couldn’t say shit like:

What d’you know? You’ve never seen a war zone from the inside, you fucking bigoted coward.

“I’m not soft,” you insisted instead, narrowing your eyes to a glare.

“Prove it.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to go back in time and fucking kill you!”

At this point, you wouldn’t. You really wouldn’t fucking mind at all.

However, Soldier Boy only laughed in your face like you were the bug about to hit his shield. “Oh, you can certainly try, sweetheart. But you can’t, can ya? ‘Cause you’re fucking broken. Like I said, useless,” he reiterated harshly, his sneer widening when his hand reached out and clasped your chin between his fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll find some good use for you. Especially for that mouth.”

Furiously, you thwarted his advances once more. “I said don’t fucking touch me!”

“Yo, Soldier Boy, c’mon! Leave her alone now,” MM warned, finally getting fed up too. He usually avoided the supe to the best of his abilities, only snapping every once in a while when the asshole took it too far.

This time, MM only got involved because Hughie kept sending him frantic looks of panic during your heated exchange, probably worried you’d antagonize the supe so much he’d detonate the whole building.

“Mind your own fucking business, punk,” Soldier Boy dismissed the intervention, his venomous eyes still fixed on you.

The anger was storming through your body and closing your throat with a tight chokehold. You could barely breathe as your chest heaved and your ears rang. It was always worse when you got angry. Unfortunately for you, Soldier Boy had a way of pushing your buttons and setting off your triggers.

Your superpowers had the ability to control and bend time – or at least they used to. You had mostly used it to stop the clock and get an extension on your homework deadlines. But technically, you could also travel through time.

Once you had found out how that worked, well, you quickly became addicted. You went to concerts of bands that didn’t tour anymore, you’d shamelessly make money on Wall Street and placed bets on football games, and sometimes, you even ate dessert twice.

It was all about the little things.

But that all stopped when you accidentally cast yourself into the Middle Ages and almost got burned at the stake for witchcraft. For some reason, your powers wouldn’t work until the last second – you figured extreme distress had been a factor.

When you closed your eyes at night, you could still feel the scorching heat underneath your bare soles and smell the smoke reaching your nose and lungs.

Afterward, you didn’t want to use your powers any longer – not that you could. PTSD was a real bitch sometimes.

You had lived quietly and alone in a cabin near Montréal for years. After your parents found out they couldn’t make money off of you, they kicked you to the curb. And when you knocked on Vought’s doors, asking for help, they told you not to use your abilities – before they tried to kill you. That was the moment you’d realized you might be more powerful than you’d initially surmised. Until then, you had only used your powers for your pleasure and the occasional personal gain.

So, maybe, Soldier Boy was right when he said you had never used your gift wisely.

After your flight from Vought, you lived under a fake name and took up online college classes in physics and history to understand your abilities better and avoid grave mistakes.

And boy, time travel was a fucking bitch.

Years of study could be summarized to this, however: If you even so much so as killed the wrong fly in 1783, the whole world could go extinct.

Or in Vought’s terms: If you accidentally fucked up history, it might fuck with their business and money.

That was the reason why they had been trying to get rid of you for the longest time – until Butcher showed up on your doorstep. You had no idea how the Brit could’ve found you or even known about your powers in the first place. After your escape, Vought had kept your existence quiet. They knew if the wrong people found you, it would end direly for them.

Wrong people like William Butcher.

At first, he wanted you to go back in time and, in his words, “kill the chubby, little cape cunt.” Needless to say, you had declined. Even if Homelander was the worst creature to ever walk this earth, excluding his sperm donor, you wouldn’t kill a baby. You wouldn’t kill anything or anyone, really.

If anything, you could be classified as a bit of hedonist – or “a fucking hippie,” as Soldier Boy once had put it. Which, granted, was probably a trait you both shared. Although, Soldier Boy took the whole fucking cake and ate it, too. At least all you ever did was steal a tiny slice every once in a while.

In the end, you had never asked for these powers. You were just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

But when Butcher then asked you if you could at least “hop back” to retrieve the weapon that had neutralized Soldier Boy in 1984, you finally told him you were essentially useless.

A part of you wanted to help, though. While you had closed yourself off from the rest of the world, you had still followed the news. You knew it had gotten bad out there. You could see Homelander spinning out of control and threatening to burn the world. You knew soon enough your house would burn, too.

You knew the monster needed to be stopped.

So, you offered Billy Butcher the only thing you could – a glimpse into the past, so he could find the weapon in the present.

And you did. You saw how Soldier Boy’s own team had despised him so much they handed him off to the Russians during an ambush in Nicaragua – but they hadn’t killed him.

The diabolical smirk on Butcher’s face had scared you. You knew he’d realized in that moment that you could be valuable after all. So, naturally, he threatened to give up your location to Vought if you didn’t join his team.

And well, here you were.

You’d traveled to Russia, you’d freed Soldier Boy, and you’d defeated Homelander. But even after the job was done, you stuck around.

Hughie, Annie, MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and even Butcher – they had all sort of become your friends. And they protected you, even though Vought had sworn they were done hunting you. No one trusted Stan Edgar, and you knew he would probably still rather have you buried six-feet-deep if he ever got the chance.

So it was nice to know the whole team stood behind you. Well, all but one.

Part of the deal with Edgar had been a request to keep Soldier Boy away from Vought’s business. The guy was smart enough to know he wanted nothing to do with the ticking time bomb, either.

“And what are we supposed to do with that wanker, huh?” Butcher had asked as all of you stood in a very breezy office at Vought Tower – which had still been under heavy construction after the fallout.

“Let him play hero, keep an eye on him, and I’m sure we’ll have no issues, Mr. Butcher.” Edgar had smiled cunningly, his eyes flickering to you.

Afterward, you had decided to pack up like Maeve and finally live your life. You’d even applied as a physics professor at a small college. But then Soldier Boy made his own request: Either you’d stay, or he’d walk. And if he had walked, your deal with Edgar would’ve fallen through.

Soldier Boy was a bully. In fact, he could teach master classes in it. You didn’t think there was one good bone in his body. So far, you could count the times the guy had actually been nice to you on one hand – two fingers to be exact.

The first time had been the very first night you’d spent together in that rundown motel after he’d killed Crimson Countess. You took over the nightshift of babysitting while Hughie and Butcher took a snooze in the adjoining room. That night, Soldier Boy had shown you a glimpse of a human being.

“Well, currently, there are two working theories on time travel: The closed loop theory and the alternate timelines theory,” you’d explained after he had asked you how actual time travel worked. Most people gave up after a minute, but he had still been in it after five.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Well, lemme see…” Musingly, you had pursed your lips and thought for a moment. “Terminator came out in ‘83, right? You’ve seen it?”

His lips had slowly risen to a smile. “Yeah… Actually one of the last fucking movies I watched before the fucking Reds got me.”

“Right.” You’d nodded. “Still remember what happened?”

He’d scoffed and rolled his eyes a little. “I’m not that old…”

“Well, it’s been forty years since you’ve seen it…”

“Schwarzenegger comes from the future to kill that blonde chick,” he’d summarized with a cocky smirk that should’ve proven to you he wasn’t demented.

“Yeah, remember the soldier who came back to save her, too?”

“Oh. Yeah, that guy…” His nose had scrunched slightly. Of course he’d be rooting for the killing machine. “What about that fucking wimp?”

“The Terminator was supposed to kill Sarah because her yet-unborn son would defeat the robots in the future, but the soldier who came back to save her is actually the baby’s father.” There had been no way you could’ve explained it any simpler than that. “So, the Terminator actually created the circumstance, which made him go back in the first place. That’s a closed loop. Does that make sense?”

He’d nodded slowly, his brow creasing heavily in concentration. “Yeah, I think it fucking does…”

For hours, he’d asked you questions about your powers, and when he was through all of that, he even asked you about your life, what you did for work, and how you ended up here. And you’d figured he was trying to schmooze up to you to use you for his gain – or maybe he’d just been coming down from all the drugs he’d taken that day.

Either way, after what you’d seen the Russians do to him, you could understand why someone like him might want to turn back time and get a redo. The unpleasant images, the inhumane torture he’d endured, actually caused you to have sympathy for the supe.

For a second.

When you’d tried bringing it up and be his friend, he had quickly shot you down. He’d been an even bigger dick since then, as if the sheer thought of someone seeing his weaknesses scared him.

Yes, a little, gray mouse like you apparently fucking terrified the biggest and strongest elephant in this world.

Honestly, you didn’t know why the supe had insisted on your presence. Maybe he just needed the perfect victim to antagonize as he passed the time. Sometimes, you did feel like the new Black Noir of Payback.

There’d only been one other incident where he’d shown something remotely resembling kindness:

He’d complimented you.

A real, sweet compliment – and he’d actually meant it – and he hadn’t hit on you in the same breath.

One night, a few weeks ago, Annie and Frenchie had dragged everyone of you to a karaoke bar to “decompress.” Even Soldier Boy tagged along and seemed in somewhat good spirits all night – there’d been no heinous taunting, only the usual flirtatious teasing.

One of those flirtatious attempts had been a dare for you to sing.

“Oh, c’mon! One song,” he’d begged and shifted closer to you on the small leather sofa in the corner of the bar. “How about something from the fucking 80s? Like Cyndi Lauper! I’m sure you’d like that, huh?”

“What, you want me to sing ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’? Really? You?” You’d arched a brow at him.

He’d chuckled, and it’d been a sweet sound instead of a mocking one. “Hey, look, I’m all about the girls having some fucking fun,” he’d said coolly before a lick of his lips turned him a bit more serious, mysterious even. “How about something a little slower… Time After Time!” He’d grinned proudly and raised his expensive whiskey glass to your cheap beer. “That’s fucking perfect for you!”

And then you actually went on stage and sung. You weren’t a bad singer, either, but you were by far no Mariah. However, you could see Soldier Boy watching you intently the whole time with that strange look he sometimes carried whenever he was staring at you – something he did quite often.

In fact, he’d stared at you pretty intensely when he’d first walked out of his cryo-chamber, too. It gave you the creeps the same way that naked homeless man had once done in a subway after 1 AM. And then, he had fucking detonated, which had freaked you out so much you’d accidentally disappeared back to New York with a five minute time difference forward – the only time you’d actually managed to travel into the future.

But after your performance, Soldier Boy had passed you on your way down from the stage and intercepted you by placing a tentative hand on your arm.

“You have a really beautiful voice,” he’d said and even gifted you a small but genuine smile.

“Thank you.”

Sweetly, you’d even mirrored his smile after no other insults or advances followed. You’d been practically baffled. As you had glanced at him more carefully, though, you’d noticed something gleaming in his eyes, almost melancholic. You’d supposed after 104 years, he had probably been experiencing a ton of déjà vu.

“You okay there, gramps?” you’d checked with a bit of a teasing smile, and maybe that’d been your mistake.

“‘M fucking fine,” he’d huffed. He’d suddenly turned cold again, the hard lines on his freckled face crestfallen. He’d spun around, marched out of the bar, and ditched you there on the spot.

So, that was what you had done for the past few months – babysit Soldier Boy and keep the bomb from exploding. Which brought you back to this exact moment:

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Seriously!” you snapped, feeling the fury overtaking you. “What the fuck happened in your life to turn you into such a miserable, toxic, overbearing, narcissistic, insufferable piece of shit?!”

“Insufferable?” He scoffed as if your words didn’t affect him, but you could see it was starting to get to him. “You’re the one who’s fucking insufferable, doll. Probably because you haven’t been fucked in a while by a real man.”

Exasperatedly, you gripped your temples. “Oh, it all trickles down to that, doesn’t it?” you deadpanned. “You sound like a fucking broken record, gramps!”

“Oh, you wanna fucking jump on me badly right now, don’t you?” he gritted through his pearly-white teeth, a challenging smirk playing on his plush lips as he leaned closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Please, it’s not gonna fucking make me like you more. Your dick’s not a magic eraser,” you bit sharply, your voice low and poisonous. “God knows you fucked your last girlfriend for years, and she still fucking hated you.”

Growling, he bristled, his jaw ticking. Mentioning Crimson Countess always hit a nerve. You knew as much.

“You’re just a drug-addicted loser with daddy issues. Nothing more, nothing less,” you nonetheless continued bitterly. “No one likes you! And believe me, asshole, I fucking hate you!”

As you looked up at him, you could tell he was close to exploding. Kimiko even desperately tugged on your arm to drag you out of the blast zone – not that it would’ve mattered.

“Butcher…”

Hughie’s panicked voice and wide eyes reached the Brit, who finally got out of his chair and slammed the paper on the desk.

“Oy, you two! Fucking stop it!”

And somehow, that had miraculously seemed to work. Soldier Boy managed to snap out of his temper tantrum, his breathing steadying, his smirk reappearing.

His lips twitched as he dipped his head and whispered into your ear, “You’re not fucking worth it.”

His thick fingers trailed up your hips before he grabbed your waist and pushed you closer to his body. You tried to shove him away, but this time he used his full strength on you to keep you caged.

“Get off of me!”

“Butcher!”

“Oy! What did I fucking tell you lot?!”

Kimiko tried to pull you away harder, but that only made Soldier Boy chuckle more.

“I said stop it! Get the fuck off of me!” you yelled louder, and he finally let go with a cunning laugh.

“Alright, you’ve had your bloody fun, mate. Why don’t you take a bit of a time-out now, huh?” It was the most Butcher could do as far as an intervention went. Everyone in the room knew Soldier Boy couldn’t be stopped.

“Fine,” the supe relented with a roll of his green eyes, but then his gaze landed back on you.

You hated to admit that he had gotten to you, but it was hard to deny when your whole body was trembling and tears stung your eyes.

“Fucking Christ on a cross, are you actually gonna fucking cry now?” Soldier Boy snorted condescendingly.

“Fuck you. Leave me alone,” you snapped with what little strength you had left and wiped the burning tears out of your eyes.

“Exactly why I said you’re fucking useless. This is the problem with women. Can’t even take a goddamn joke,” he ranted. The more he got to you, the more pleasure he took out of it. You could see it by the vicious twinkle in his eyes. “You keep talking how everyone hates me, but what about you, huh? You’ve got fucking no one, too. Your own fucking parents didn’t want you, and I don’t see an army of men lining up to take care of you, either.”

“Shut up!”

“Wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re a broken, useless, stupid, weak–“

“Stop it!”

But he didn’t. You couldn’t even hear the words properly anymore as they strung together into one explosion of abuse. Your vision blurred, and the ringing in your ears only got stronger.

“C’mon, fucking show me what you can do! Prove to me you’re not fucking useless! Do it!”

“I said fucking stop it!” you screamed loudly till he fell silent.

And then, poof. You were gone.

Soldier Boy blinked at the suddenly empty space before him. Knitting his brow, he shrugged your disappearance off only a second later and plopped down on the couch with an exhaustive groan.

“Fucking finally… Took her long enough,” he commented dryly and stretched out on the small two-seater, sighing blissfully.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Hughie threw in, the anxious expression on his face only causing Soldier Boy to roll his eyes once more.

“Relax, squirt, she’ll be back,” the supe quipped, snickering. “Probably.”

“Y/N’s got PTSD, okay? She can’t control it,” Hughie argued, placing his hands on his hips in upset, his gaze scolding. “You know, you’d think you of all people would be a little more sympathetic to that.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes glowered darkly. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have that shit. I told you.”

“You know, kid’s right,” Butcher chimed in, catching the ancient supe’s attention. “I’d be a little more worried if I were you.”

“Why? Not my fucking problem. And like I said, she’ll be fine,” he reiterated with a careless grumble.

“I’m sure you’re right, mate,” Butcher replied with a conniving smirk and a casualness that made the supe wary. “Let’s just hope our little Y/N doesn’t take your advice to heart about the proper use of her abilities. But if I were bloody you, I’d hope old-me watches me back.”

Soldier Boy snorted a laugh of amusement. “Oh, I’d like to see her try,” he replied arrogantly and stretched his spine with a yawn. “Well, anyways, I’m taking my fucking nap now. Just wake me when she gets back. I’m not fucking finished with her yet…”

Hughie and the others hurried around Butcher’s desk, their voices only whispers as not to disturb the grumpy supe, and the Brit knew by the worried looks on his team’s faces that he’d have to deal with this bloody problem now.

“Butcher, what are we gonna do?” Hughie asked, eyes still wide and kind heart surely beating a marathon on his sleeve.

“Yeah, how are we gonna get her back?” Annie agreed, calmer than her boyfriend, questioningly folding her arms and arching a brow.

“Mon dieu, what if she changes the timeline, Butcher? I don’t want to wake up speaking German,” Frenchie threw in.

“And I don’t want fucking slavery back,” MM added.

“Oy, calm down,” Butcher spoke with placating hands. “Y/N’s a smart girl. She knows more about this shite than anyone of you. I’m sure she’ll fucking figure it out.”

“What if she doesn’t, Butcher?” Annie pressed.

“Well, then, let’s hope worst she does is kill the snoring cunt over there.” Butcher smirked devilishly and gestured to Soldier Boy fast asleep on the couch as if he were hoping for that outcome. “God knows I’d be bloody fine with it.”

It took less than a second, a blink of an eye, but you felt it immediately, knew instantly what had happened as gravity itself stretched out its tentacles and wound them around your limbs, tearing and tugging until you ripped at the seams and atoms spilled out of you.

There was a stark drop in temperature – that was the first thing you’d noticed. Goosebumps formed within a beat on the bare skin of your arms, the biting cold making you not only shiver but fear for your life.

Please don’t be the Pleistocene... Death by saber-tooth? No, thank you.

But to your relief, you heard a strange, but familiar set of sounds around you – animated chatter, chiming bells and closing doors, and the occasional low rumble of a car. Your heart was pounding a furious and relentless rhythm in your ribcage as your eyes fluttered open and warily scanned your strange surroundings.

You’d landed on a street, your feet safely planted on a sidewalk. Glistening white snow covered the pavement in a thick veil, the sky a dull gray blanket above. Icicles hung from lampposts with patriotic banners flying in the chill, proclaiming messages to buy war bonds and save scrap metal.

Huh…

Powdered flakes swirled around you as a streetcar clattered past you on a cobbled street, the sound muffled by the snow. Storefronts and shops lined both sides of the road, shoppers bustling by you in coats, hats, and scarves. Your brow furrowed softly at the row of parked, snow-covered cars that looked a tad… old.

Oh no…

You had definitely traveled back a smidge, but luckily not as far as the Middle Ages again. Judging by the moderately busy street, you assumed you were at least still in New York City. A paperboy was shouting loudly further down, but you couldn’t understand him from the distance. The only word that was plastered everywhere was war.

World War I or World War II, maybe?

Wherever – or whenever – you were, you couldn’t get stuck here. Your short-lived fascination with your new environment was then quickly replaced by a rising panic in your throat.

You had to get home somehow.

Squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could, you tried to wish yourself back – unfortunately, you didn’t possess your pair of ruby slippers anymore that you could simply click. The more you tried and failed, the more anxious you became, and you knew a full-on panic attack was just waiting for you around the corner.

“Whoa! Hey, careful…”

With your hands on your knees, you bumped backwards into a man, your lungs constricting so much they barely let any air pass. You spun around, eyes wide and body trembling as a set of hands landed gently on your shoulders and waist for support.

“Miss? Are you alright?”

What little breath you had got caught in your throat as you stared into an all-too familiar set of outlandishly green eyes.

Soldier Boy.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

It was a reflex at this point to slap his hands away and keep them as far from your body as possible. Of course the guy couldn’t leave you alone in any era.

Admittedly, he was hardly recognizable, though. While he was just as tall as his 21st century counterpart, he wasn’t as broad. Instead of the signature green outfit, he wore a long, black wool coat over a three-piece suit and a checkered flat cap. His hair was maybe an inch shorter, his beard replaced by a clean-shaven face. And while Soldier Boy surely didn’t look a 104, he didn’t look as young as the guy in front of you either. No furious lines from decades of anger management issues decorated his freckle-dusted face yet.

Maybe your reaction was ill-advised, considering the power he wielded. You figured any past version of the supe was even more ruthless than the current one you’d gotten to know. Moreover, you didn’t have the advantage of being spared because you had saved him from an ice box.

To your surprise, however, there was no detection of malice or offense on his features. To the contrary, he seemed strangely taken aback by your aggressive response, his hands swiftly shooting back as if your very skin was made out of scorching coals. They raised in surrender.

Surrender.

Well, that was new. He had never, ever, ever done that before. Did you land in some alternate timeline where Soldier Boy was a nice guy?

“I-I’m so sorry, miss. Please forgive me… I was just checking if you were okay,” he stammered and forced a reassuring smile, his hands still held high in good faith.

“Just stay away from me. Leave me alone, okay?”

You backed farther away from him, your eyes desperately flickering around for an exit. Your voice jittered in sync with your body before you bolted down the street and sought shelter in a dark and quiet alley.

“Miss! Wait!” he called after you, his hands picking something up in the snow that you’d dropped during your flight. “You’ve lost your–”

His brow furrowed as he twisted the thin, rectangular device in his hand, his thumb wiping bits of melting snowflakes off the sleek, black glass. As he glanced more closely at it, it lit up brightly and vibrated in his hold. He startled at the unexpected tremble, almost dropping it into a pool of mud by his shoes. Fuddled, his gaze lifted down the busy street in search of you.

“What the hell…”

▶️ Chapter 2: Is This the 40s? – APRIL 4

I think his curiosity is piqued lol... What did you think of his 1942 version vs. the, uhm, less nice future dickbag? 👀

Coming Up:

Ready to fend him off, you were surprised to find his grip wasn’t strong by any means. It was barely a brush before he dropped his hand again and looked at you remorsefully.

“I’m sorry! I just-… Please let me help you,” he reiterated with imploring green eyes. “Look, you clearly seem lost. Just tell me where you live, and I can get you home safely, okay? C’mon, you can’t do this to me.” He tried to loosen you up with a charming smile and a puppy dog look. “If you leave like this, I’m going to be up all night, worrying you’ve died of hypothermia out here.”

And my God, he seemed sincere! No wonder he had gotten attention from women like a goddamn bunny in a petting zoo.

Musingly, you then chewed on your lower lip and assessed the man in front of you. The people who strolled by you threw you the occasional weird looks – you’d chosen a bad day to wear a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans.

Admittedly, you could use a little help here. Maybe if you were being careful with the timeline – and him – you could risk it.

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

Tag List Pt 1.:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@impala67rollingthroughtown @star-yawnznn @spnaquakindgdom @thej2report @americanvenom13

@lamentationsofalonelypotato @supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @little-diable @kr804573

#time after time #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #follow up

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e-vay · 19 hours ago

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The Sonnet of Domino & Phlox - EPILOGUE

[A/N: Please make sure to read all the chapters before reading this! Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 (Previous)

This story is also available to read on AO3]

“Again! Again!”

Domino narrowed her eyes at the little hedgehoglet who pleaded at her. Realizing they had entered a staring contest, the giddy little boy glared back at her to appear defiant, his lips pursed tight into a smug little smile to keep himself from bursting into laughter. There wasn’t much Domino could provide for this joyous bundle of energy, but what she did have was an abundance of love. So if he wanted to keep playing, of course she would cave to his request.

The woman purposely lost the staring contest by rolling her eyes with an overly-exaggerated groan but punctuated the act with a large grin to prove she was only teasing. “Oh alright.” She held out her open hand and made a come-hither gesture.

The hedgehoglet bounced on his feet and shrieked with excited giggles. He lept into the air, curled himself into a ball and landed in her palm. Domino began tossing him in the air and catching him softly, as casually as one would juggle a volleyball, the blue orb letting out even more cheerful laughs every time he was free falling before landing in his mother’s hand.

“Y’know, I never should have taught you how to ‘get spiky,’” she remarked with a smirk, continuing to toss and catch him. “I never get to see your handsome little face anymore. It seems you’re only ever in ball form or running around.”

The toddler uncurled himself and landed onto the ground with an eager smile. “I can do bo’f at the same time! Wook!”

Domino’s eyes widened as the boy curled himself into a ball again and began to rev up in place with several high-pitched Vree!Vree!Vree! sounds. ‘Spindashing already?! But I haven’t even taught him that yet!’ she thought to herself. Everything about this kid was fast, including the passing of major milestones, it seemed. Suddenly he tore off into the forest. It was only a second before there was a distant “oof!” with an explosion of leaves.

“Sonic!” Domino called out, running in the direction he had rolled.

“I’m okay!” he shouted and before she had even made it very far he had raced back to her. Aside from the purple plumes and leaves that were nestled in his quills, he seemed otherwise unscathed. His smile took up almost the entirety of his muzzle. “A bush catched me!”

“It looks like you took the whole forest back with you!” The teal hedgehog laughed and knelt down to brush away the debris. She plucked one of the purple puffs from his quills and gasped upon inspecting it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized Sonic was covered in phloxes.

She sat down and covered her mouth to stifle a silent sob. The smile dropped from the little boy’s face and he hurried into her lap and grabbed her hand.

“Mama,” he whined. It was very rare that he saw his mother cry but the few times he did, it made him terribly sad and he never knew what to say to make her feel better. Words were difficult, so instead he’d hold her hand and wait. She turned her attention to the lime green eyes who stared at her intently.

Domino smiled and cupped his cheeks, his tiny face now framed by her hands and the purple flowers. ‘Maybe now’s the time I should tell him,’ she thought. ‘With the ol’ Domino Flair™, of course.’ She sniffled, blinking away her tears and bent her knees up so Sonic sat on her stomach and used her legs as a backrest for him. She tucked one of the flowers against her damaged ear and gave her son a knowing smile.

“Have I ever told you the story of how I fell in love with a flower?”

The boy’s look of concern immediately washed away as he burst into laughter. “A f’ower?!” he asked, his voice extra high pitched from disbelief. Domino nodded, plucking the blooms from his quills and collecting them in her hand.

“That’s right. A short time ago, I was walking along, not looking where I was going and just like you-,” she poked his round belly, “I ran right into the most special flower I’d ever seen! He was big as a tree and strong as a mountain and as beautiful as the galaxy!” She pulled some long strands of grass from the ground beside her and began to weave the elements in her hands together. “But he was also gentle like the breeze and as warm as the sun. And he loved the planet so much-”

“Wike me!” the boy chimed in.

“Just like you,” Domino chuckled and continued her story. “And for reasons I didn’t know, the flower loved me, too. He kept me safe in his shadow and cozy in his hugs. He taught me how to see the beauty in everything and the importance of standing up for others. He showed me how to believe in myself, that I could do anything, even when times were tough!”

She placed the assembled flower crown on her son’s head. “But do you want to know what the greatest gift he gave me was?”

“What?” the little boy asked.

“He gave me you!” she attacked him by tickling his belly and the child shrieked with loud giggles and squirmed in her grasp. Once she let up from the tickle fight, he leaned his back against her legs.

“Where is he?” He looked around as if the subject of Domino’s story was currently hiding somewhere nearby. Sonic was never one to think in the past, only the present.

Domino petted his quills and offered a bittersweet smile. “I don’t know. You see, I made a mistake. I ran away and I left him behind.”

“Oh okay,” Sonic nodded, not understanding the gravity of his mother’s statement.

“And that’s why I need you to promise me something.” She cupped his face again to make sure he was listening closely. “If you ever, ever find a special flower of your own one day, you promise to hold on tight, keep it safe and never let it go.”

“Yeah okay,” the boy replied but his mother scooped him up into a mighty hug.

She put on a gruff, silly monster voice. “You have to promise!” She pressed her mouth to his cheek and blew a puff of air to tickle him and make him laugh from the silly noises. He squirmed, cackling and kicking. “EEHEEHEEE I PROMISE! I PROMISE!”

Domino released her grip and all of the playful antics got the toddler amped up again and he started running in circles around her. “You gotta catch me now!” Domino stood up faster than he had expected and with a startled cry of glee he sped off with her quickly on his tail.

The young woman grinned as she chased the wild child who darted and weaved and swirled up the trees, his laughter echoing throughout the forest without a care in the world. He was already so full of spirit and personality but she wondered what their son would be like as he became a man. Would he be like his father: Someone who befriended the outcasts that others ridiculed and who embraced life with a sense of wonder and silly mischief? Would he be more like her: Someone who was stubborn and would always get back up, no matter how many times he got knocked down? She hoped it would be a mixture of them both. Either way, she couldn’t wait to see him soar.

[A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story! I hope you enjoyed Domino and Phlox and felt they were worthy of the title of being Sonic's parents 🥰]

#my fanfiction #my fanfics #my fics #my work #my au #my ocs #domino the hedgehog #phlox the hedgehog #dominoXphlox #sonic's parents #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic trash #fan fiction #fan fic #phloxino #sonicparents #YoungXStupid

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floridecuts · 2 days ago

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Offering another dose of Death Mark art for the weekend! ~ I got inspired again by @enjoyjellime's fanfiction "Choco Fin" again - Surprise, it's actually become three pieces! ^-^ I was so happy that my other work was able to inspire them to write an alternate ending for the story! I really liked it a lot, so I had to draw something - also the temptation to explore drawing Mashita as a piranha-themed merman was just too great! xD I hope my drawings did your imagination justice! It was actually a bit challenging to draw Mashita's tail, since I wanted to keep as close to the reference as possible while also making sure to not make it look too short in comparison to Yashiki's long Koi-tail. So I hope I did alright.

The first picture was inspired by the moment where Yashiki and Mashita hug each other, after the spirit has been pacified. The way how the scene is described in the story, with their tails curling around each other and other fish swimming around them, painted such a beautiful picture in my mind that I wanted to draw it. (Please ignore the messily drawn fish in the background ^^'). With the other two pieces I wanted to depict the moment of relief and happiness (and maybe a little bit of smugness in Mashita's case xD) between them and the moment where Yashiki kisses Mashita. I liked how easily Mashita blushes in this story, it seems so adorable, considering his personality, so he's blushing here too. ^^ (Also, I could have sworn this also happened in the story, but apparently I must have imagined it, because that didn't happen in the chapter when I re-read it earlier xD). I discovered that I really love drawing those two in close moments like these, so I'm definitely gonna be doing more such pieces in the future!

Anyways, I hope you liked it! Thanks for taking a look and have a nice week! :)

Also, here's the link to @enjoyjellime's work, if you want to check it out : Fanfiction "Choco Fin" on AO3

#death mark #spirit hunter #shiin #死印 #yashita #kazuo yashiki #satoru mashita #merman yashiki #merman mashita #fanfiction inspired

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nowtoboldlygo · 8 months ago

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recs for women in translation month: The Blind Earthworm in the Labyrinth by Veeraporn Nitiprapha, translated from the Thai by Kong Rithdee. purple prose surrealist high drama magical little novel, you stole my heart. the translator also included a botanical and playlist annex in the back because he loves me 💜

#Veeraporn Nitiprapha #Kong Rithdee #witmonth #women in translation #this book is so fun #the chapters are like little short stories #the characters are so weird #the writing is so beautiful #3 #📓📖📚#translated literature #nowtoboldlygo posts

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bepisbee · 6 hours ago

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yoo :3 <3

1. how many works on ao3?

2. total ao3 word count?

183,672 wooooof

3. top 5 fics by kudos

#1 the gang meets shadow with 625

(four swords)

the lu chain meet shadow in fours era but hes a little shit (affectionate) and is shape shifted as a cat. vidow focused

#2 Missing Me with 172

(south park)

mostly a vent fic about self harm and familial abuse from parents. ship focus: creek

#3 Reader x Craig with 165

(south park)

this was just a crack taken seriosuly reader smut with tenta dick after i finished reading homestuck. its one of the worst mature fics ive ever wrotten lmao

#4 Scars with 160

cute short about lu talks about their scars and where they got them. Vio has one from shadow biting him becuase monster boyfriend nsfw implied. silly shenanigans about it

#5 Storms with 131

fun fact this was actually one of my very first vidow fics back on devient art (iluvshadowlink if anyonecs ancient like me and were on there) cute fluff about the first time shadow experienced a thunder storm. I have a re-write of this somewhere on ao3 too

I was surprised about the south park but I know my creek stuff got a huge hit up when south park had the whole manga fangirls creek episodes going on lol.

4. What fandoms do you write for?

right now? soley legend of zelda and zelda related things (like linked universe) but i used to do: south park, tokyo mew mew, tmnt, death note, fruits basket, ouran high school host club and inuyasha

5. Do you reapond to comments?

not as much anymore i feel awkward and i dont wanna come across as insincere or have tone taken wrong becuase its a big fear of mine

6. fic with the angstiest ending

for noooooow its what i had to but not to spoil buuutt there might be some hardcore feelings in store for the last chapters of no longer you

7. fic with the happiest ending?

till death do us part i literally make them get married

8. do you get hate?

no, but i did get this really weird dm awhile ago about my robot ai au (V10137) someone wanted to adopt it and called it underdeveloped while i was still active on that fic (im still working on it just slowly its not abandoned. i made some major story change decisions and have to rewrite 3 chaoters now and im procrastinating it). and i know i shouldnt but i took it really personally. at the time it was my longest word per chapters fic and i was super proud and it bummed me out of writing for awhile.

9. do you write smut?

thats probably MOST of my fics ngl lmao i love me some vidow smut. im also in the middle of male puberty (hrt) so that doesnt help XD

10. Do you write crossovers?

not really? not in the tradtional worls meets world but i habe used worlds as aus (like bnha but four swords no characters from bnha but all the four swords are in that word).

11. ever had a fic stolen?

not that im aware of?? im nowhere near THAT popular lmao

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. have you ever cowritten a fic?

yes and no? my rp partner for many years (about sp) and i used our rps for story ideas all the time but idk if tbat counts as "cowriting" exactly.

14. OTPPP

VIDOOOOOW baby vio x shadow

15. WIPS you wanna finish but doubt you ever will?

triforce valley (four swords stardew valley), the mafia au (vio is a mob boss) too many ideas on that one in my head i cant decide a cannon. Magical Hearts (shadow is vio's demon college roomate au) im stuck it started as oh my god they were roomates and funny prompt about a roomate a sage/cleaning the dorm room and roomate b a literal demon getting sick or not able to cross tbe threshold anymore. I was going to turn it into a fucked up unreality where vio was in a magical coma from trying to revive shadow and shadows real soul was reseructed from the event and so was a cleansed vaati he was interacting with their conciosnesses the whole time. eventually they escape amd shadow and vaati are revived but good. all 3 remeber everything that happened in the dream. vio wakes up still having the tatttoos he got in the dream and it ends like inception, with the reader never knowing what was real and what wasnt. did the magic kickback infuse the circle and ritual onto his skin, or was this another level on subconcious they are stuck in forever?

16. Writing strengths?

autistic huperfocus + maladaptice daydreaming =fics fics fics ideas! wuooo!

17. Writing weaknesses?

autistic hyoerfocus. lol sometimes i get a scene stuck in my brain and struggle to work around it or expand how to get from point a to the stuck point to point c. and having spurts of "i want to write everything" and going for 8 hours and then not writing for two weeks.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

I love it IF there's a translation offered in the notes or in the story context what was said (example "Words here!" character yelled, cursing their bad luck with a line of swears. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" you dont know exactly tbe translation, but obviously it was jist cuss words ya know? like that) if it's a language not selected as the fic language. I feel left out otherwise and it can be confusing.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

ah geez. I'd have to guess for that honestly. its very likely it was legend of zelda though. oot ish ive been writing between friends and i since like 4th or 5th? hell it could techncially be warrior cats actually LMAO

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Missing Me was the first multi-chapter fic I actually finished and I was so proud of that. Content wise though is the android ai au

thanks for the tag @lizzable <3<3

i taaaaaaagggg @spadeprincesss @singingvio @frostedshadow @blupeeblep @twink-between-worlds @bokettochild *throws this at you with snacks*

im so sorry for spelling and grammar im on mobile rn and its 215am

I have been tagged by @batrogers!!

1. How many works on AO3? 241

2. Total AO3 word count? 1.25mil. Almost to my 3rd AO3 anniversary :D (that's around 1,170 words every day for three years, not counting nonpublished words! Proud of that rate, even if it's slowing.)

3. Top 5 fics by kudos:

Status? about Four. I think this one hits the sweet spot for a lot of people: not too long, a bit angsty, but sweet.

so i admit that the mud didn't do much for me, about Hyrule. Actually the first fic I ever posted on this account, it's silly and I'm surprised to see it so high

incandescently happy, a post-LU happy ending. Posted little chapters every day for like a month which kept it in people's feeds so I think that's why it's so high

what is a stump supposed to do, a random Hyrule & Four one, honestly baffled why it's up here

Rise and Shine and Fall, my successful (by that I mean actually wrote and posted every day on schedule) Whumptober 2022 extravaganza compilation. I posted it all in one work, so it's higher than most other whump fics of mine, but there's a lot in it!

4. What fandoms do you write for? Zelda. In the past I wrote a tiny bit of Danny Phantom and a fair amount of FE3H!

5. Do you respond to comments? Always!! I admit to being SO VERY BEHIND right now, a couple months' worth. I'm trying to keep up on new ones, but I've had some beautiful wonderful readers going through my catalog and I can't always keep up!! XD

6. Fic with the angstiest ending: I don't write a lot of negative endings, so I think this badge goes to Counterbalance, my LU Darks AU. I'm actually fully in love with this fic, it's probably the best mix of silly and angsty I've ever written. It's full of what are essentially OCs but they're all my babies and I love them.

7. Fic with the happiest ending: incandescently happy, post-LU. The whole fic is essentially a fix-it ending, though LU doesn't have an ending yet. XD

8. Do you get hate? A couple silly comments trying to tell me I'm doing things wrong, but not really no! Oh, also can't forget the ask I got that was "Remember that Jesus is your first reader." I think that was meant to be passive aggressive but there's a chance it was meant like, genuinely? Not sure.

9. Do you write smut? Nah. And I don't plan to. Not my thing! Closest I get are vampire bites XD

10. Do you write crossovers? I swear I've done more but the only ones on my AO3 are a Vidow fic done in an original world (Nothing New Under the Sun (crystals, dumplings, jewelry)), and Blood-Sucker's Guide to High School, a Vidow retelling of a very fun vampire novel.

11. Ever had a fic stolen? Nope, but I did have one of my Vidow fake fic book covers stolen for someone's fake fiverr listing. Got it taken down with a DMCA but I was like, why

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? Oh plenty. @enrolio and I spent most of 2020-21 lockdowns and beyond cowriting, mostly original stories (1.7mil) but a lot of fic, too (nothing published, but almost 400k worth.) We're currently in the process of working on a big epic original fantasy series, though that's a long-term project. @batrogers and I have done a few alt-POV-type projects too, which have been super duper fun!! Hope to do more.

In that vein too, I feel like the Bad End Links kind of qualify here—so much of the characters and their stories were brainstormed collaboratively and so many friends have contributed details and fics and art, it feels like a fun group project! I've really enjoyed working on it. :D (the encouragement and hype for it also helps a lot!! I'm really hoping to finish this big project out!)

14. All-time favorite ship? Ahhhh a harder question than you'd think, tbh, even if you're limiting it to fic. I've written the most for Vidow, and they're definitely up there (same with Fourdow though I've done less with them.) I do have to admit that Linhardt/Byleth might take the cake, though. They were the first ship I was ever actually obsessed with, and the first romantic pairing I wrote in fic.

I just really adore Linny in general, and I love how the pairing continues and closes off some of the themes in the Crimson Flower route of FE3H. That's the only route where Byleth doesn't become archbishop-slash-dictator, and I think choosing to live life in a small cottage, not particularly contributing too much to the government, builds nicely upon the themes of becoming human and choosing your own destiny, themes that are really missing from the other routes.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My old AO3 account (a couple FE3H fics and not much else) has a series where I wrote the beginning of a fic and then had several different endings planned, each a different ship with Linhardt, but I only ever wrote one. I'd love to read the rest but I have too many other fics calling my name!

16. Writing strengths? Um... Volume and speed? Also AUs. I think I can call myself good at fitting characters into new settings. Also fight scenes are fun and I think I do them well.

17. Writing weaknesses? I feel somewhat weak in the plotting and style realms.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue? You can't count on a reader to know not-tagged languages, so that has to be accounted for in the text.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Danny Phantom, in high school or maybe just after. That's late for a lot of fic writers but... there are reasons for that, and a different discussion!!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? This is an extremely rude question, because I love so many for different reasons. I write things I want to read!! Counterbalance (for the tone) and Blood-Sucker's Guide (for the finished novel plot) are up there but I linked them above, so I'll take the chance to call out a different few—Marvelous Misadventures is way up there, a Wind-focused modern with magic AU. I promise I'm still working on that last chapter (and the epilogue), I just gotta throw everything else aside one month and buckle down. Maybe June, I don't have any fic events planned and 06/23 was the last update. I think some earlier chapters need a refresh as well, once I have the ending written.

I'll also toss White Walls (medwhump, "non consensual body modification: the fic") into this category for how long it is and how proud I am to have finished even a collection this long, and a long walk, a Linked Nexus fic where I did so much math and had so much fun with it. :D

Tagging: @silvrash-797 @toyouhellohowareyou @nopenototdaysatan @skyward-floored :)

#tag meme

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goldensunset · 2 months ago

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forget ‘when will missing link release’. how about the more fun question: how long will live service for the game run once it’s released? over how many years are they gonna stagger those episodes? how consistent will it be? will they drop seven chapters at the start, go on hiatus for an eternity, then drop thirteen more chapters and end there?

#my dream would be like one chapter a month or so #or like given how short they seemed in the beta maybe a couple at a time per month #who knows how long the story overall will be but i think a month is a good time frame #the people yearn for synchronous media #(as in it’s released a little at a time so everyone is consuming it at the same page roughly)#that’s the best way to build a fanbase #kingdom hearts #khml #khposting

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yasmeensh · 10 months ago

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Paleolithic Media Catalogue

Hello everyone :) Short story first: When I began brainstorming for my prehistoric story, I started wondering what other prehistoric fiction there is out there. I was not familiar with it and have not seen much. That's when I started my grand literature review and began a search for what fiction exist out there. I wanted to know what kinds of stories are being made with this time period. What are the common themes or recurring ideas (I found lots of humans and dinosaurs works. And time travel). Since I've had a growing collection on my computer, I decided I should keep on enlarging it and put it online. It's nowhere near complete. I'll slowly keep accumulating the collection as I find more. I only have fiction books and comics right now. I still need to work on the film section.

You can access the blog here!

***

As for where I am in my reading, the one's I've finished reading are Earth's Children series (book 1-4. Dropped it afterwards lol. I made a post on with fanart) Dance of the Tiger and it's sequel Singletusk (They were good! I'll upload my review on the blog), and Sisters of the Wolf (It was ok!). I got my hands on The Inheritors and excited to start reading it. I REALLY want to read the Shiva trilogy, but I found no PDF online... and it's out of print :( There is certainly old copies on ebay. And I want to read Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. There seem to be lots of good books out there.

#For whomever might find it useful... I'm doing this #I actually found another huge catalogue by an awesome person called Stephen Trussel #However their site has not been updated since 2016 #I've linked their site on my blog when referencing the ENG translation for 'paris before man'#I'll make a paragraph dedicated to that site too #This has gone beyond my initial literature review lol #But for someone writing in this genre.. I've got to get to know it well #Because If I do end up publishing it I KNOW for sure it will be set up against other prehistoric fiction #mainly earth's children series #LITERALLY every book I checked had people in the reviews comparing it to Auel's series. Like it's the blueprint of prehistoric fiction #Like it's 'The Lord of the Rings' of its' genre.#and since it's a graphic novel maybe it will be compared to other comics?? Which I haven't found a lot YET #Emmanuel Roudier's work looks SO GOOD #I say looks because it's in French and I can't read French #I'm tempted to try translating it with what little French I learnt from public school and actually learn French in the process #Mezolith is great but it's not a full story. Just small snippets/short stories #Same with Tiger Lung. It's great. Also very very short. I recommend both.#I have not read the mangas yet. I read the first few chapters of Grashros and it's 100% Shounen stuff so far lol

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fictionadventurer · 9 months ago

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"If the structure of your world ever evaporates, I will still be here."

I think The Q might contain one of the greatest declarations of friendship/love ever.

#books #the q #beth brower #this seems clunkier out of context but trust me in context it's very moving #they're discussing how quincy's entire world is wrapped up in work #so even if she likes the people there if the business somehow disappeared she probably wouldn't see them again #because they all have other family/friends to go to and she doesn't really have any #leading to this promise #and let me tell you it's just about enough to make me believe in found family #because this works as a romantic or platonic declaration #it's a promise #a commitment to provide safety and stability when there's nowhere else to go #and i love it #this book is so odd because i liked it quite a bit last year #then rereading i was at first like 'why did i like this at all?'#there's no scene-setting or character description it's just kind of stuff there #but then the relationship starts to develop and i am SO invested #under normal rules it shouldn't take 100 pages for the story to get good but in this case it's worth it #it's such an odd structure #each chapter is almost like its own little short story #or a character sketch #almost like the character have stopped to discuss their own character worksheet #but in context it somehow works #and it drives home how much traditional publishing and writing rules stifle creativity #because your average editor would look at this and try to smooth it over #make it all into one flowing narrative #and it would lose so much of what makes it unique and compelling #following the rules of 'good writing' robs you of all the stories that don't follow those rules #there is so much scope outside of the one 'best practice' that is currently in fashion #and those stories need to get told too!

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mechazushi · 4 months ago

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Heart-To-Heart {A Kaiju Number 8 Short story.}

[Warning: Major Character Death] [Warning: Depictions of Gore]

It was a long drive back to the First Division base. It felt even longer since you could feel everyone collectively reeling from the news. It hadn't hit the front-liners just yet. The higher ups were waiting to see just how many were going to come back from the fight alive first. Mina and Soshiro couldn't bring themselves to tell Reno or Kikoru just yet either. They knew something was off when they rushed their friend into an armored truck as soon as the dust settled. They were just going to have to writhe in a lack of understanding for a little while longer. At least, just until the captain and vice captain could get a better understanding of what Kafka; or, they guess in this new situation, Kaiju Number 8, was now.

"You seem to have developed a new staring problem." Hoshina observed bitterly.

Him and his captain were riding in the back of a mostly empty armored box truck. Other than them, there was what was to be assumed to be what remained of Kafka. That being just... the kaiju itself. It wasn't clear what had happened to Kafka after the end of the fight, but that's why they were in here. Although, neither of them felt like getting a head start on questioning.

"Apologies. It's just... you, remind us... of someone. Someone... we miss." Kaiju Number 8 spoke as it cocked its head to the side, it's sight not leaving the commander's face.

It was strapped to a metal chair again, similar to the one they had placed their friend in three months prior. It's voice wasn't the same as Kafka's anymore. Even when Kafka was in his Kaiju form, you could still hear it and tell it was still Kafka, even if it had developed a deeper tone and a rolling grumble. Now... there was nothing of that jolly voice left. It sounded more like listening to a stadium of people talking in unison behind a closed door. It was almost hard to listen too... in more ways than one.

"We? All I see is the one knucklehead." Hoshina retaliated, his voice unchanging. A brief pause was filled with a low, clicking growl. Almost like thunder rolling over mountains.

"Was that a purr? He fucking purrs now?" Hoshina thought as he continued to return the stare down the Kaiju was giving back.

"Looks like... we, won't miss... him... for much... longer." Kaiju Number 8 said with an uncanny level of hope in its voice. It was an odd sight watching the kaiju speak. It moved its mouth like it was talking, but the movement didn't match the words themselves.

"We. You keep saying we. Why is that?." Mina spoke up for the first time since they entered the vehicle. They watched the kaiju as it took its time coming up with an answer.

"We are... gone. All gone. We are now... shame. Regret... Fear. Rage...Revenge." Kaiju Number 8 said cryptically.

"Well, that wasn't exactly helpful." Mina thought.

"Revenge? Against what?" Hoshina questioned on his turn.

"To finish... what we started. To kill... Kill all Kaiju." It said as it's voice became more threatening, dropping in tone and developing a deeper growl.

A harsh, wheezing laugh came from the vice captain as he got up to walk around the container.

"Great. The damn thing's turned you worse than a mindless, killing dog." He muttered to himself as he was turned away from both of them.

"Hoshina." Mina said with a warning tone, having heard what he had said very clearly.

"Oh, don't act like you're being okay about this! How is anyone going to be okay about this? How's he okay about this?" Hoshina suddenly became very shrill and his movements became exaggerated despite him still feeling the toll the back-to-back fights had put on him, "This is Kafka we're talking about! Or, well, at least it was Kafka."

"Our host... is still here." the kaiju interrupted, "He has joined... the others." There was a weighty pause as the information settled into the commanders.

"Is there... a way to bring him back?" Mina cautiously questioned, trying to not let her hope betray her tone.

"He was presented... a choice. To heal his own heart... and walk away. Or to let it become... our new core." It spoke longer now, gaining speed as well as confidence while it acclimated to it's new state. That harsh laugh rang out again from Hoshina's bruised lips as he tried to not shake his head at the absurdity.

"Why am I not surprised. Ohhh, I should have seen this coming." He sighed as he gently rubbed his face, "He didn't have to do any of this. I had that fight handled." the vice captain continued to mutter as he paced the metal box. This earned a disappointed look from his captain and a curious head tilt from the strapped down Kaiju.

"Oh, don't give me that look." Hoshina said quickly.

"You said he's... that Kafka is still around. Do you think that... it's possible he can hear us?" Mina continued to question cautiously, her heart quietly grasping at any straws that Kafka could have a chance. A chance to understand, to come back to them, or anything that would assuage the pain she felt in her chest, she didn't know.

"He can... He is." the Kaiju answered. Mina tried to prepare a statement, something that could have be reassuring to the both of them at the moment, but the words were killed on her tongue as Hoshina stomped over to their altered friend and slapped a hand on one of the metal arm cuffs while he rudely pointed his finger at it's chest.

"Good. Then that self-sacrificing, one-percent lump of dead weight can hear in great detail about how I'm going to jump down your throat and drag his hairy ass back into the sunlight the second the option seems viable." Hoshina was growling and practically frothing at the mouth by the time he finished his tirade. He took a deep and shuddering breath as he stared the unflinching Kaiju down before calmly turning his head to side-eye his captain.

"You've picked one hell of a friend, captain." he said, his tone unfortunately still harboring misplaced resentment. Mina's normally unflinching face cracked as her brows furrowed and her lips pinched as she got up from her seat.

"You're the one that wanted him on the force." her voice was dark and deceptively even as Hoshina rose to meet her eyes.

"You might want to rethink your tone, captain." He said, trying not to spit it back in her face. The tension in the air pulled tighter and tighter behind the sound of the road noise, only to be cut short as the Kaiju in the room spoke up.

"Kafka... Were you and Kafka... friends?" It asked softly. The two of them turned to face it with puzzled expressions.

"Did having him melt into your little hive mind not already clue you in to that?" Hoshina scoffed.

"It did." The kaiju answered.

"Then why ask?" Mina questioned slowly, becoming deeply curious as well as a little worried for the answer.

"He felt he had... lost the honor." it said as it's white pupils flicked away sympathetically, "He had... broken his promise."

Hoshina shook his head a little at the answer, not understanding completely what that would mean to Mina. He was already aware at this point that her and Kafka were childhood friends, but without any deeper knowledge as to what that friendship meant to each other, he just felt left out of the loop. What ended up grabbing his attention was a shallow, rattling breathing next to him. He turned to look at his captain and saw an emerging and disheartening marvel. Mina seemed to be on the verge of tears. Lips quivering and tears threatening to spill from her shocked eyes.

"Hadn't he?" the kaiju asked, tilting it's head again.

The final nail in the coffin it seemed. Mina spun around on her heels and sprinted to the container's reinforced doors as she put her finger up to her ear comm.

"Stop the vehicle." She commanded, her voice not betraying an ounce of what she felt at the time.

A brief pause was held before she commanded again, this time screaming the order into the comm. Hoshina quickly widened his stance against the force of the truck breaking suddenly.

"Mina?" Her voice captain called out as he watched the back doors fly open and his captain hop down and out of the vehicle.

He tried to rush forward and catch up to her, only for the doors to be slammed back in his face before he could leave. He banged his fist on the metal for a moment, hoping for someone to open them back up. All he felt was the truck rumbling back to life and continuing down the road. He shook his head in disbelief and concern, not knowing why his captain reacted like that.

"Do you believe... that this is not a good price... to pay?" that infinitely echoing voice rang out from the back of the truck.

"What?" Hoshina spat, not understanding the question.

"You continue to fight against... what has already been decided. Do you think that... this form... was not a good price... to pay?" It spoke slowly, not in intentional mockery, to be sure, but it felt like it to Hoshina.

"Pay? Pay for what?" he shouted back.

"No more lost lives... No more shattered families... No more broken promises." It spoke, leaving the idea open ended. It didn't need to expand further anyway. Hoshina got the idea pretty well as he calmed down.

The only thing worse than a predictable friend, was knowing how predictable you were yourself. Because Hoshina asked himself the same hypothetical question and found himself coming to the same answer. A heart for a core... a thousand times over.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

"Epidermis breached. Eight, you're up!" Soshiro called as he leapt back from the entry wound he caused in their newest threat.

Some sort of bastard child of the Meraki Kaiju a year earlier. It hadn't developed Number Nine's shape shifting abilities or possessed any way of speaking, but it damn sure inherited its intelligence. Emerging without warning in the northern part of Japan, it made it clear it still had an ax to grind. A writhing mass of acidic smelling meat, tentacles, and eyeballs, it looked the part to start a spaghetti monster themed cult.

Kaiju Number Eight made a mad dash from the sidelines, focusing solely on getting to the gaping wound the Vice Captain had started. Getting to the weeping slash, it pried the edges of it apart with as much force as it could muster, sending violent arterial sprays of acid around, over, and behind it. From then, it was just a fury of movement. Strong claws ripping and yanking large chunks of hazardous flesh from the threatening mass of black and sending it away from them so it could dig ever further to its center. An example of perfectly honed equilibrium comprised of streamlined intent and raw berserker rage. A flicker of bright, webbed strings of multi-colored light let it know that its destination had been reached. Quickly scrapping the muscle around the core, the Kaiju noticed that the monster had picked up another thing from its progenitor; a hard-light barrier around the core.

"Core two of three located. Beginning demolition." Eight called out loud enough to be picked up by its custom ear comm.

"Core sighting confirmed. Begin neutralization." Okonogi had said on the other end of the link.

It reared back its fist as it felt the thruster tubes in its forearm slide out and into position. It waited for the jets to build up sufficient pressure before letting it send its fist rocketing forward to the shield with each punch.

First hit.

Second hit.

Third hit. Shields gone.

Fourth hit.

Fifth hit. Core shattered.

"Energy readings dropped. Core Destroyed! Good work Kaf-I mean, Eight!" Okonogi let out a reserved cheer as she read out the information at her station.

That wasn't the only surprise the monster had in store it seemed. Just as Eight turned to launch itself out of the slowly enclosing wound, a barbed tentacle shot out from behind the broken core and propelled through its chest with enough force to send its body flying out and down the street. When the tentacle stopped moving, Eight's body flew off of it, feeling the barbs rip through its flesh as it tumbled through the air. Eight hit the asphalt, hard. Would have sent any ordinary officer unconscious with a concussion even if they had the suit's shield. It felt itself rolling down the street and over the harsh edge of a curb. With the wind knocked out of it's lungs and the very obvious sign that it's blood was pouring out from its chest, it made the now monumental effort to prop itself against a solid surface and take a mental rundown of the damage. Bringing a clawed hand to its chest, it made the devastating discovery.

"Well... shit."

On the other side of the offending mass of destruction was Mina and Narumi, tag-teaming their attacks to crack the first layer of the Kaiju. Dodging the slashing appendages coming for them left and right, they felt they weren't any closer to breaking its resistant shell. The fight had been going on for so long that the both of them could feel their fortitude percentage dropping with every twitch of muscle. Out of nowhere, Mina saw her vice captain drop from the air in front of them and plunge the sword in his suit's tail to cut a deep gash in the beast top-to-bottom.

"Heard ya'll were having some trouble." Hoshina panted with a bloody and cocky grin.

"Hoshina! You're supposed to watch Eight's back!" Mina yelled as she shifted her cannon's muzzle away from him.

"Kafka got his mission handled. He should be on his way." Hoshina replied as he dashed in a circle around her, dicing up any tentacles shooting out her way.

"About that! Eight's vitals just dropped off the map!" Okonogi cried in panic, watching the screens turn red.

The captain and her vice immediately looked to each other as their faces turned to shock. Okonogi could only watch as she witnessed everyone's vitals go haywire at the news. Mina could just barely bring herself out of her nightmarish thoughts and leveled her cannon at the kaiju's gaping wound, making sure it stayed open a little longer.

"Go to him! Me and the Bowl-cut Bastard can handle this!" Narumi cried as he fought off his own barrage of barbed obstacles.

Mina looked over to her vice as he reassured her with a quick nod before jumping into the fray with Narumi. She whistled hard and loud, calling her faithful tiger to her aid. She leaped onto its back and held on tight while they tracked down their fallen comrade, trying not to think the worst.

Back on the other side, Eight had managed to prop itself against a shockingly still intact dumpster next to one of the few miraculously standing buildings this close to the fight. Black rivulets of blood trailed behind it and stained its path to false safety. A jagged tunnel had been left behind from the tentacle's blow, acting as the main source of agony and fear for its health. This kind of an injury wouldn't normally be a problem, even the acid melting away at his chest wouldn't have raised any concern. It's healed from worse before, but not this time. No, this time was a problem as it could feel where the barbs had ripped and shredded its way through its core and the acid making quick work of whatever was left to touch.

Inside the dark, flesh textured walls of their mind, Kafka's presence manifested as a battered and broken soldier. Redder blood leaked from various gashes on his face and body. Dark, angry bruises littered his sore chest and limbs. Outside of the pain, he mostly felt numb. At most, a dull ache in his chest where his heart-turned-core would have been. He turned to one of the other presences in his mindscape, the samurai soldier that held his powers before him, and smiled a weak smile. He couldn't tell if the samurai was as badly battered as he was, but he could tell in the way he held his chest they at least felt the same pain. Kafka chuckled raspingly as he turned and shuffled toward the last being in the brain, the big Kaiju bug that held all the power, and painfully shambled his way over to it.

"So... Was that a damn good last run or what?" Kafka playfully mocked as he carefully settled himself to the floor, leaning back against the equally battered Kaiju bug.

"No... We're not finished. We have to finish the fight!" The samurai shouted wheeling around to Kafka, still clutching his chest.

"Can't do that if there's no more fight left in us, Papaw. Face it... We're fucked." Kafka panted from the pain as it spread more viciously and his muscles released its tension.

"How dare you call yourself an officer! There are still lives on the line back there!" the samurai angrily shouted at him.

"AND HOW DO YOU EXPECT US TO CONTINUE WITHOUT ANOTHER FUCKIN' CORE, HUH?" Kafka screamed back with more rage than the samurai could ever express.

There was a lot of words that both of them wanted to say, things to be said in anger and fear, in hopelessness and tiredness. But they were getting tired themselves, feeling the energy being sapped from their muscles and the warmth being leached at the same rate as their blood. There was no denying that this... this was it. No more hearts for cores, no second chances, no turning back the clock. Kafka never got to feel what it was like to be by Mina's side. The Samurai won't get to see other people live a life without fear from otherworldly threats. The kaiju that made all this possible will never know what a quiet mind could have felt like.

"But we got close though, didn't we?" Kafka softly begged, "Tell me we got close, Papaw."

The samurai looked down for a moment, seeming to think his response over, before looking away entirely.

"Even if one fails to reach the moon, one still lies among the stars." He finally said, still not looking back.

Kafka gave a soft smile in return, leaning his head back as his head grew heavy with a lead-like feeling. He knew he didn't mean it, but appreciated the effort anyway.

"And not a night sky to be seen." Kafka muttered to himself as the dark started to overtake his sight.

Something in the back of his mind wouldn't let him rest completely, however. He could sense something coming closer and moving in rapidly. He could tell it was a kaiju, but a smaller one giving off an abnormal but familiar signature. Mina's tiger, no doubt bringing its owner along with it.

"Shit. Can't let Mina see us like this." Kafka groaned painfully as he tried to stand both inside and outside the body, "She doesn't need to see this."

The samurai just eyed his mental roommate from the unchanging confines of his mask and made no move to help the struggling Kafka up to his feet. In their mind's eye, they watched as Mina dismounted and bolted forward to their devastatingly injured remains. Her voice was muffled, but they could definitely sense the distress in her tone as she dropped to her knees by their side.

"Oh God! Nonono, KAFKA!" Mina cried as she harshly dropped to her knees beside his still body. She brought up a hand to its chest wanting to slow the profuse bleeding, only to feel the massive opening staying warm through the power of the acid alone. It became all too clear to her that at this moment... that her friend couldn't be salvaged

"Mina... please. You need to go." Eight muttered out as more blood dripped from its teeth.

"No, Kafka, this can't be it! Not like this. I can't lose you again." Mina's eyes rained its tears freely, taking advantage of their privacy to stop holding back in this vulnerable moment.

She could barely hear the sounds of the on going battle in front of them through her wet sniffling and ragged coughing. She held on tight to its chest and shoulder, trying to focus her thoughts away from another time. An earlier time where this had happened before, where she lost the last pieces of her long gone friend. Her cheeks were hot with anguish as she bowed her head against its shoulder, thinking of any and all prayers she could think of. She didn't want this moment to finish and take the last shreds of hope she had with his passing.

Back in the dark passages of their mind, Kafka had only managed to drag himself to his hands and knees as he tried to speak to Mina. He barely had enough strength to keep himself upright, let alone to project his voice out of the confines of his mind. The samurai just stood still as it quietly watched this all go down.

"Mina... Mina I'm so sorry *cough* for everything... I... I know this is going to be hard... but I know that... you can be strong-" Kafka coughed again and almost landed on his face from exhaustion. Planting his trembling arms as firmly as possible underneath him, he tried to look over at the samurai standing next to him.

"For fuck's sake, Papaw! Can you help me up sometime today, please?" He called out as he managed to lean back onto his legs somewhat.

He watched as the samurai continued to ignore him, not even bothering to look his way. As Kafka busied himself with finding the strength within him to push Mina away in any way he could, he missed the telltale sound of a sword being pulled out of its sheath. As Kafka got off of one knee, he felt something hard and sharp push its way through the back of his neck and out of his mouth. He instantly felt all of his limbs going numb in that second and all of his weight being carried by what was shoved through his neck.

As the sword pulled itself back out, Kafka felt warm trickles of his blood start running down the back of his throat. He couldn't swallow the blood into a different direction and could only feel it all sliding right into his lungs, making him choke reflexively. As he fell onto his face, he felt the growing pain from the wound grow from the back of his head and slowly turn into the worst, practically splitting headache he had ever felt before now. Feeling his body twitching from the numbness and his lungs quaking in the fight against being able to breathe, he just laid there and saw his Ancestor flick his sword and clean it on his sleeve before placing it back into the sheath. Had Kafka not been choking on his own blood or had enough feeling in any of his limbs, he would have certainly returned the favor. What happened instead was the feeling of the floor opening up underneath him and dropping him down into that familiar, watery, bottomless pit in their shared conscious, eyes and mind growing darker the further down he drifted.

Back up top, his Ancestor took control of the body and started talking to the grieving Mina.

"Mina..." He called out.

"Kafka? Kafka, are you still with me?" Mina cried out desperately as she continued to hold the body close.

"We need... another heart." He asked, trying to stretch out whatever remaining willpower he had left to finish his request.

"A heart?" Mina questioned in the interlude, slowly gaining control over her tears.

"Yes... Another heart... for another core." He finished, hoping for Mina to understand what he was asking of her.

"A... a heart." Mina reiterated as the request she began to realize what was being asked of her, "I-I can't... I can't ask something like that from anyone..."

"You don't have to ask... If they're not here to question..." He answered, hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out further than that.

Mina's eyes grew wide as the tears threatened to spill over again. He was asking for her to drag over an already dead body? Just to continue fighting? Warning lights went off in her head as this ask dawned on her. Kafka would never ask for something like this, it was too underhanded. But then again... Maybe this wasn't Kafka talking anymore. Maybe Kafka was gone, and it was whoever made Eight was talking now. It had to have been, because Kafka's hate for the Kaijus was never deep enough to warrant this.

Still... some part of Mina refused to give up on him. Even if he wasn't the one talking right now, Eight was all she had left of her friend. Mina was strong, she led the forces, she joined the Division because of Kafka. She had watched him struggle year after year to catch up to her, falling back to square one every time. This Kaiju helped him on his last chance to get his foot in the door, and she hated to admit that it was probably the biggest reason as to how he managed to stay this long.

It wasn't the only reason, however. If the Kaiju helped him physically, his promise to her helped him in every other way. All he wanted was to be by her side, and even after every roadblock and setback and debilitating snag he hit, he got to this moment... this fight, and it was the closest he had ever gotten to fulfilling it. But one can't be expected to carry that kind of fight alone. She knew that well enough after blitzing through the ranks to Captain. At some point, a hand needs to be extended, a branch to hold on to, a sign that this isn't a one sided fight. That someone else wants what they want too, and wants to see that dream realized for them... with them. It took both of her hands to muscle the slackened arm up to her chest and placed the bloodied and acid-stained hand over her own heart.

"Take mine... You can take mine." She said, her voice betrayed no cracks, only a solitary hiccup.

"Mina... no. Anyone else..." The ancestor argued, knowing well enough that this would hurt more than just Mina.

"Well, you're not getting anyone else, goddamnit!" Mina screamed, " I've wanted too damn long for you to be by my side and watching you sacrifice everything on the dotted line, just for it all to stop here! I'm tired of waiting. I'm done waiting."

She placed her head back on its shoulder, waiting for it to decide. She worried that she took too long and that there wasn't any life left within it to finish the task. Eight found enough strength to bring his head over to the top of her's and lightly placed his closed mouth on it. For he had no lips to kiss away her fears, or a voice left to reassure her that everything would be okay. All it could give was a low, throaty rumble as her tears fell down like a storm.

'I'm sorry... for everything.' It thought.

A loud squelching noise was heard in tandem with a dull ache suddenly spreading out in her chest. Mina looked down and could see that Eight's hand had pushed itself through the barriers of her suit and was now being drenched in warm rivers of red blood. Her lungs spasmed irregularly as that dull ache started to feel more and more staticy. As she coughed, she felt a little spurt of blood splatter out of her mouth. Eight waited for her eyes to roll into the back of her head and for her body to grow limp before he sucked her heart out of her chest. Warmth began to travel down its arm and flowed freely into the rest of its body. It shed one lone black tear as the cavity in its chest began to close up.

Soshiro and Narumi's fight with the Daikaiju had gotten only a little further than nowhere in the time that Mina had left them. Soshiro had managed to keep the wound that he had made earlier open and could only stand by and watch as Narumi ventured inside it while slicing his way deeper in. A weighty moment had passed before he saw that back of Narumi's suit being propelled toward him at unbelievable speed. The two of them made contact and were sent flying backwards. Hoshina took his own fair share of damage as he ended up getting abruptly sandwiched between a broken piece of a stone wall and the full weight of Narumi in his numbered suit and weapon.

"Augh! What the hell, Narumi?" Hoshina cried out in pain as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Damn thing must have learned from the last two times we hit its core! It tried to skewer me with a tentacle and launch me backwards. I managed to deflect it with my weapon, but Jesus! That acid stings!" Narumi yelled as he shifted off of Hoshina's lap, trying to use his now ruined jacket to wipe off the rest of the acidic blood from the suit.

Hoshina tried to get back onto his feet, but could only manage to slowly shift himself onto a knee. Bracing himself against the wall, he leveled his one undamaged eye toward the hulking monstrosity before them. He panted heavily as he weighed his options, finding all of them to be far from satisfactory plans to finish this brutal beast once and for all. Still, no one could rest until that thing was put down for good.

"Get up Narumi." Hoshina growled through his pain, "We need to finish this." Narumi just squinted up at him with a question on his mind, before deciding that the smack talk back wasn't worth the effort. As they propped themselves to their feet as best they could, an unearthly voice came over the ear comms.

"Hoshina. Narumi. Stand down and head to safety." the voice commanded with easy authority.

Hoshina peered his head over the chunk of wall first. Off in the distance he saw a slim figure walking towards them. The sound of metal dragging over asphalt matched the sight of the stilted silhouette and its heavy looking object it brought with them. He grabbed Narumi by the shoulder and dragged them both off to the side of the street to hide behind more rubble. Leaning against a shattered chunk of roadblock, Hoshina watched with great interest as the figure got closer and closer. The sound of metal being dragged got replaced with the sound of metal being loudly pried apart, sheets and gears popping and buckling under great pressure. He studied the new arrival as best he could from his distance and made one startling discovery after another.

The being that approached looked almost like Eight and carried Mina's cannon. Only now that cannon had looked like it was caught in a tangle of thick, black, jungle vines that had wound itself into every part of the complex machine. The body that was connected to the cannon looked very different from what he remembered as well. Eight looked taller, leaner, and not as wide. And he certainly knew that Eight didn't have a full head of long black hair.

Narumi watched the new figure as well, but was focused on a very specific part of them. He watched the new kaiju open one set of eyes, then a second set below that, then a third set above them both. It only got stranger as he saw the borders of the eye's sockets stretch and lengthen out to the borders of the other eyes. Once the edges touched, the sides popped open and the eyes melded into each other, forming one long, glowing, teal band extending across the width of its face.

The tentacles on its arm had finished their job of weaving their way through the cannon and lifted the whole mess level with its target, the Kaiju everyone had been fighting. Hoshina watched on in slowly dawning horror as he heard the voice on the comms match to the movement of the teeth on the new Kaiju warrior in front of them.

"All should know better than to be caught in their Captain's line of fire."

Inside the mind of the new beast, Kafka could feel his mind turning on to a sense of alertness. It almost felt like waking up from a paralyzing nightmare. As he blinked his eyes and got them to focus, he tried to recall what had sent him sprawling over the floor in his own mind. His memories slowly worked their way forward from the moment he entered the fray, to when he felt the acidic sting of the tentacle pierce his core. He rolled onto his side and brought up a hand to rub his face, trying to dislodge anything more important or at least relevant. Even moving around in his listless state, he could instantly tell he felt different. His arms didn't feel sore or bruised, his chest had lost its weighty pain that had settled deep in his core. His core. If that had been broken, then how was he still able to think? As Kafka landed on his back and pushed himself up onto his hands, a deep, reverberating thump rattled in his chest as more recent memories started to crop up.

The fight. The killing shot. Crawling away to hide his shameful death. Mina... Oh gods, Mina! She found him, and... and... His Ancestor, the samurai. What did he do to him? Kafka felt his chest tighten as his breathing became labored and ragged, quick puffs of angry air sucking its way past his teeth. He shot up to his feet quickly, the lack of pain making him all the more angry at the thought of his Ancestor committing some atrocity that somehow fixed this. His only reasoning for this being that if it wasn't supposed to be a bad decision, then why bother silencing Kafka at all?

"WHERE ARE YOU?" he screamed out into the vast space of his mind, "FACE ME AND EXPLAIN, YOU COWARD!"

Kafka made a slow turn, viciously eyeing down any shadow in the dark recesses of his mind that could have been his murderer's form. Spying a dark shape off in the distance behind him, he turned and ran toward it, thinking it to be the samurai. As he got closer and closer, it became very clear that this new person wasn't the samurai. His Ancestor didn't have a flowing curtain of black hair, nor did it wear a defense force suit. He slowed down his pace for a second, becoming worried and praying that his mind had just decided to play a cruel joke on him, now of all times.

"Mina?" Kafka hesitantly called out, a thousand prayers for salvation from this fear echoed in his heart.

He watched on in horror as the familiar shade turned to the sound of its name and faced him with shock in her eyes. He picked up speed again, this time not with intent to maim and harm, but to approach this mirage of agony faster with the hopes that he'll just run right through it.

"No. No, no, no, nononono, MINA!" He cried as he got close enough to see that this wasn't a horrible joke, but a nightmare made flesh.

Carelessly plowing right into her, Kafka held her tight as they fell to the softly giving floor. Sobs racked his ribs and shuddered his lungs as he scrambled to his hands and knees. His hands roughly busied themselves with pulling her onto his lap and brushing strands of hair out of her face, chanting that simple word over and over. They slowed as the realization of this, of her physically being in his mind really meant, began to chip away at his already war-torn heart. He could feel himself rocking back and forth, cradling Mina's warm body close to him as he looked into her unbothered expression with his being stained with a flood of tears. He supposed it was him trying to bring comfort to Mina, but as her gentle hand placed itself on his cheek and stroked with her thumb, he knew that this was all to comfort him.

"No, Mina why? Why would you do this? You had to have known, right? I would never ask you to do this, you had to have known that it wasn't me! Why, Mina? You didn't have to do this." He whispered

Kafka could barely get the words out over the snot and bile building up in his throat. His tears soaked his cheeks and fell like rain onto Mina's hand. His face felt like it was on fire as he sniffed hard and tried to clear his throat. Holding her in his hands made any attempt of composure in vain as it just reaffirmed to him that what was done was irreversible. The Third Division lost its captain, but it certainly didn't feel like he had gained back his friend. He tried to restrain his violent sobs as he felt her arms tighten around his neck, pulling his body down over and closer to Mina. His arms tightened in return as he felt the other hand come up to play soothingly in his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles over his spine.

"My heart... was already yours." She whispered into the crook of his thick neck, the vibrations of the words sending small shockwaves through his torso.

All Kafka could bring himself to do was cry. Cry and scream and cry again until his voice became shot and he had no more tears to shed. Hands forever tight around his new heart.

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(Some thoughts I had while writing this that won't fit into tags well)

Real quick, I just wanna mention that this is based off of a recent theory that I developed after reading chapter 118 and its that Kn8' true power isn't that fact that he's a shape shifter, or that he's got super strength or a sonic screech or anything else.

His true power is that he can turn hearts into cores, indirectly making itself partially immortal. (we could be immortals, immortals...)

So I see the end of this story going one of two ways:

One: Once the Third Division finds out what happened, they all come to a mutual agreement that they want their hearts cryogenically frozen after death so that Kaiju Number 8 is forever supplied with back-up cores. This ending kinda gives off this lovecraftian feel where in the future, Kaiju Number 8 stops being considered a Kaiju at some point and is more of an amalgamation of undying spirits that haunt the base forevermore.

Two: Kafka pulls a Hellsing Ultimate Abridged. He fights against Papaw first and then proceeds to fight and kill every soul that inhabits his core, ultimately evicting the collective consciousness that made his powers in the first place and distills it into himself. The only better way I think I can explain this is "Imagine Venom bonding to Eddie and then something happening to Eddie, causing Venom to sort of... recreate Eddie. But it's just Venom, so now it's like if Venom was his own host." Kafka is now Kafka, the parasite, and the Kaiju all at once. (He also somehow figures out a way to spit Mina out into her own body so she's fine.)

He's not a human that can turn into a Kaiju or the other way around. By Legal Definition he is, technically, the first, true, Human Kaiju.

#Honestly... I feel like this isn't my best work.#I think its because I rushed this a little bit #I just wanted to get this idea out there before the next chapter dropped.#because I didn't want it to change/influence how I wanted this to turn out #And I know that its a month between chapters but I really didn't want to take a month on a short story.#also I've got several other fics I want done AND I've got a poll about to wrap up soon so I wanted to be done before that as well.#could be seen as platonic or romantic #me personally #The second Hoshina recovers mentally from this ordeal they fucking nasty.#You thought this was a KafMina fic #But it was I! A KAFHOSHIMINA FIC!!!!!!#sorry for the overuse of the pronoun It #I refused to call Kafka's potential new form He/Him or They/Them on grounds that -#One: Kaiju (in this world) most likely don't have gender #And Two: Kafka is so many people now and I would like to not accept that it's JUST men in there.#A lot of people could have felt the same emotions and could have been in contact with parasitic Kaiju material.#Statistically there should have been AT LEAST one woman in the mix. (Before now)#That and I think it helps dehumanize Kafka a lot since he's technically not even Kafka any more.#Kaiju-Mina to any higher-ups: Look at me. I am the Captain now.#would they even let her is the question.#kaiju no.8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju number 8 #kaiju no 8 #kaiju n8 #kaiju no. eight #kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu 8 gou #kaijuu number 8 #kafka hibino

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