#god even crazier is her realizing she likes him

[gifti3]

I cant even imagine how hilda will act once adrian confesses...will he confess??....omg theyre gonna kiss at some point right??

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Books Challenged in Florida Schools and Libraries

There are some affiliate links below in case you want to support MQH.

Gender Queer: A Memoir, Maia Kobabe: Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma and fundamental violation of pap smears.

The Color Purple, Alice Walker: Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance and silence. Through a series of letters spanning nearly thirty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery and Sofia and their experience. The Color Purple broke the silence around domestic and sexual abuse, narrating the lives of women through their pain and struggle, companionship and growth, resilience and bravery.

Julián Is a Mermaid, Jessica Love: While riding the subway home from the pool with his abuela one day, Julián notices three women spectacularly dressed up. Their hair billows in brilliant hues, their dresses end in fishtails, and their joy fills the train car. When Julián gets home, daydreaming of the magic he's seen, all he can think about is dressing up just like the ladies in his own fabulous mermaid costume: a butter-yellow curtain for his tail, the fronds of a potted fern for his headdress. But what will Abuela think about the mess he makes -- and even more importantly, what will she think about how Julián sees himself? Mesmerizing and full of heart, Jessica Love's author-illustrator debut is a jubilant picture of self-love and a radiant celebration of individuality.

Drama: A Graphic Novel, Raina Telgemeier: Callie loves theater. And while she would totally try out for her middle school's production of Moon over Mississippi, she can't really sing. Instead she's the set designer for the drama department's stage crew, and this year she's determined to create a set worthy of Broadway on a middle-school budget. But how can she, when she doesn't know much about carpentry, ticket sales are down, and the crew members are having trouble working together? Not to mention the onstage AND offstage drama that occurs once the actors are chosen. And when two cute brothers enter the picture, things get even crazier!

Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas: Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can't get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school's resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave.

I Am Billie Jean King, Brad Meltzer: This friendly, fun biography series focuses on the traits that made our heroes great--the traits that kids can aspire to in order to live heroically themselves. Each book tells the story of one of America's icons in a lively, conversational way that works well for the youngest nonfiction readers and that always includes the hero's childhood influences. At the back are an excellent timeline and photos. This volume features Billie Jean King, the world champion tennis player who fought successfully for women's rights. From a young age, Billie Jean King loved sports--especially tennis! But as she got older, she realized that plenty of people, even respected male athletes, didn't take women athletes seriously. She set to prove them wrong and show girls everywhere that sports are for everyone, regardless of gender.

This One Summer, Mariko Tamaki: Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. One of the local teens - just a couple of years older than Rose and Windy - is caught up in something bad... Something life threatening. It's a summer of secrets, and sorrow, and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

Marriage of a Thousand Lies, Sj Sindu: Lucky and her husband, Krishna, are gay. They present an illusion of marital bliss to their conservative Sri Lankan-American families, while each dates on the side. It's not ideal, but for Lucky, it seems to be working. She goes out dancing, she drinks a bit, she makes ends meet by doing digital art on commission. But when Lucky's grandmother has a nasty fall, Lucky returns to her childhood home and unexpectedly reconnects with her former best friend and first lover, Nisha, who is preparing for her own arranged wedding with a man she's never met.

And Tango Makes Three, Peter Parnell: At the penguin house at the Central Park Zoo, two penguins named Roy and Silo were a little bit different from the others. But their desire for a family was the same. And with the help of a kindly zookeeper, Roy and Silo got the chance to welcome a baby penguin of their very own.

More Happy Than Not, Adam Silvera: In the months following his father's suicide, sixteen-year-old Aaron Soto can't seem to find happiness again, despite the support of his girlfriend, Genevieve, and his overworked mom. Grief and the smile-shaped scar on his wrist won't let him forget the pain. But when Aaron meets Thomas, a new kid in the neighborhood, something starts to shift inside him. Aaron can't deny his unexpected feelings for Thomas despite the tensions their friendship has created with Genevieve and his tight-knit crew. Since Aaron can't stay away from Thomas or turn off his newfound happiness, he considers taking drastic actions. The Leteo Institute's revolutionary memory-altering procedure will straighten him out, even if it means forgetting who he truly is.

Melissa, Alex Gino: When people look at Melissa, they think they see a boy named George. But she knows she's not a boy. She knows she's a girl.

Melissa thinks she'll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte's Web. Melissa really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can't even try out for the part... because she's a boy.

With the help of her best friend, Kelly, Melissa comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte -- but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all.

A Quick & Easy Guide to Queer & Trans Identities, Mady G, Jules Zuckerberg: In this quick and easy guide to queer and trans identities, cartoonists Mady G and Jules Zuckerberg guide you through the basics of the LGBT+ world! Covering essential topics like sexuality, gender identity, coming out, and navigating relationships, this guide explains the spectrum of human experience through informative comics, interviews, worksheets, and imaginative examples. A great starting point for anyone curious about queer and trans life, and helpful for those already on their own journeys!

This Book Is Gay, Juno Dawson: This candid, funny, and uncensored exploration of sexuality and what it's like to grow up LGBTQ also includes real stories from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, not to mention hilarious illustrations.

Little & Lion, Brandy Colbert: When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she's isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (as well as her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse.

King and the Dragonflies, Kacen Callender: Twelve-year-old Kingston James is sure his brother Khalid has turned into a dragonfly. When Khalid unexpectedly passed away, he shed what was his first skin for another to live down by the bayou in their small Louisiana town. Khalid still visits in dreams, and King must keep these secrets to himself as he watches grief transform his family.

It would be easier if King could talk with his best friend, Sandy Sanders. But just days before he died, Khalid told King to end their friendship, after overhearing a secret about Sandy-that he thinks he might be gay. "You don't want anyone to think you're gay too, do you?"

Sorted: Growing Up, Coming Out, and Finding My Place: A Transgender Memoir, Jackson Bird: An unflinching and endearing memoir from LGBTQ+ advocate Jackson Bird about how he finally sorted things out and came out as a transgender man.When Jackson Bird was twenty-five, he came out as transgender to his friends, family, and anyone in the world with an internet connection. Assigned female at birth and raised as a girl, he often wondered if he should have been born a boy. Jackson didn't share this thought with anyone because he didn't think he could share it with anyone.

The Black Flamingo, Dean Atta: Michael is a mixed-race gay teen growing up in London. All his life, he's navigated what it means to be Greek-Cypriot and Jamaican--but never quite feeling Greek or Black enough.

As he gets older, Michael's coming out is only the start of learning who he is and where he fits in. When he discovers the Drag Society, he finally finds where he belongs--and the Black Flamingo is born

Explore the full list here.

[minimomoe]

Hi just wanted to let you know I LOVEDDD Not Just Neighbors but I have a question does reader know about Logan and variant reader in his past universe and if she doesn’t then who would tell her and how would she react?would she be understanding?or would she feel like Logan’s only with her to fill in variant readers place? (I don’t know if your requests are open so you can ignore this if not or if you don’t feel comfortable answering :D)

For the sake of keeping it a short (I tried my hardest but ik it's long lol) oneshot reader understands that she might have meant something to Logan in his universe but doesn't press on it since he seldom talks about his past. I kinda wrote that whole story on a whim so I didn't think too hard about it. Since you asked so nicely, here's an alternate excerpt of how that realization could've went: wrd ct: 1.9k tags: a little angsty but that's all

Not a Replacement

"Wade you gotta tell me. We're on better terms now, but why did Logan hate me so much? I hardly ever talked to him but when he sees me his face scrunches up like he smells shit. Do I smell like shit? Be honest."

Wade's nose went straight to the crook of your neck and you rolled your eyes before shoving him away. "What?! You said to be honest. You smell great though," he shrugged.

"Okay, so what was it?"

"What is what?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Your patience was running thin and you didn't have time for Wade's games. "What was the reason? He's your roommate, you gotta know something."

You were sitting at Wade's dining table and you saw the food in his mouth slow to snail speed. His eyes darted to you for only a second but it was all you needed.

"Wade," you said in a warning tone. "Do you know something?"

"I know a lot of things. For instance, I know that you are the best damn cook in this whole apartment building, you're insanely gorgeous, you hate when people keep secrets, and did I mention how really fucking pretty you are?"

"You better tell me or so help me god every plate I bring you will be under seasoned and burnt to a crisp."

"Okay fine!" He dropped his sandwich onto his plate and crossed his arms over his chest. You scooched your chair in closer, finally ready to hear an explanation. "You better not tell anyone you found out from me or steak knives is gonna cut my dick off again."

"Again?" You gave him a concerned look.

"Don't try to change the subject, missy. The truth of the matter is that our resident honey badger might like you a lot more than he lets on. I am risking so much by telling you this."

"From my understanding you can't die, so how much are you really risking?"

"You don't live with him, smartass," he grumbled. Wade scratched the back of his neck, suddenly a lot more serious than you usually see him and he looked almost... apologetic. You straightened up when he hesitantly opened his mouth again. "I explained the different timelines, right? Logan isn't from our time line, I plucked from a different one and tricked him into helping me. The thing is, these timelines can be very similar to each other."

You understood it well, or as much as you could, from the first time Wade explained it to you. Time traveling, anchor beings, Paradox and Cassandra Nova all seemed too ridiculous to be true, but you knew Wade wouldn't lie about such a thing. Plus you know about mutants and Wade's regenerative powers. Of course crazier things existed.

"I'm picking up what you're putting down. What does this have to do with Logan's apprehension towards me?"

Wade sighed, running his hand over his face. "It's not apprehension, okay? Look, I noticed it too. The way that he acted like he might explode if you come too close. He knew you, and I mean knew you, personally— intimately, before and now you don't even recognize his face. I know that feels fucking horrible."

Wade stared down at his sandwich somberly like he was speaking from experience. You fell silent, ruminating on his words.

Intimately. You have never met anyone like Logan before, but he already knew you. There was nothing you could even compare this to. You slowly got up from your seat and patted Wade on the shoulder. Your mood was dampening at the new information.

"Uh, thanks man."

"This is why I didn't want to tell you. I don't blame you but you're all weird now," he groaned. "You're not a replacement. She could've been entirely different. She could've be Catholic."

He was expecting a smirk from you at the very least but got nothing. "That doesn't really help."

Wade watched you slump out of his apartment to head back to yours without another word. He could literally see the cloud of gloom forming over your head and he groaned dramatically.

"Canadians are supposed to be nice people. I should know! Leave it to the Australian to ruin that for us."

---*---

Logan could smell the difference in your mood around him. You were on edge, giving him sneaking side eyes when you thought he wasn't looking and nervously biting on your thumbnail. Something was bothering you, something pertaining to him, and you didn't know how to bring it up.

It would be hypocritical of him to drag out the issue with you, but he never played fair before.

"If you stare at me any harder bub, you're gonna put a hole in my head."

He offered to take you out to get dinner instead of staying in. It was nothing fancy, just a small Indian restaurant that he found on a whim, but he remembered you saying that it was one of your favorite ethnic foods to eat. The short walk back to home was just to kill more time to spend with you, but you were hardly saying anything.

You pinched your bottom lip between your two fingers, rolling it over slowly. "It's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all."

The dismissive answer did nothing for Logan. He gave you a hard stare that you didn't return. Instead you walked a few paces ahead of him, leaving him behind.

"Hey!" Logan called out to you, grabbing your arm. You reeled back, shaking him off and pursed your lips together. The sudden coldness wafting off of you made him panic internally. Did he say something he shouldn't have? Did you suddenly get tired of keeping things friendly. Was he reading you all wrong? All those questions burned the back of his throat but he rather ask the obvious one.

"I've seen you tired and this ain't it. What's the problem?"

Finally you returned his gaze with an cautionary look. "What really happened between us Logan? In the past, or a different timeline, or whatever the fuck. How much history is between us?"

The question knocked Logan over like a mack truck. This was not the type of conversation he wanted to have with you in the middle of the street with cars honking and passersby brushing past, but you were standing your ground. Logan ran a weary hand through his hair then rested it on his hip. If he wanted to make this work with you, he'd have to be honest with himself.

“Did Wilson run his mouth—“

“Forget about him. I’m asking you.”

He stared at you dead on, looking into your eyes that were uncertain of him. "You left me.”

You stiffened up, the statement making you falter.

"And I'm not saying that to make you feel bad. You gave me chance after chance to get my shit together and I didn't. I was breaking your heart and you didn't want to stick around to watch me crash."

Logan sat down on the nearest street bench. The headlights of oncoming traffic blinded his visage with a pure bright white before turning. He could hear your pleas from time's past, your dissapointed tone. He could hear the screams of his x-men, his family that he left behind.

"You visited me after they... after the humans killed the x-men. You saw the damage that was done and you hated me for it."

Logan felt the thud of you sitting on the other side of the bench. He didn't look at you, now taken with his memories, but you were no longer on the run. You wanted to hear his side that he never got to tell anyone.

"They were like family to you too. Ororo, Charles, Jean, Scott. You loved them, so when you found out that they were gone and I was still alive..." Logan's voice trailed off and his head hung low. "I was never a hero. Or a good guy. I was a selfish asshole who left when things got tough. I couldn't save my relationship with you, or save the people I owe my life to because the only thing I'm good at is destroying things. Then I come to this world and you givin' me this bright eyed, hopeful look and I couldn't handle it."

New York City has never been known as a quiet city but there was an eerie silence that ensued. It was like everybody was holding their breath, silently listening to Logan’s darkest confessions.

"I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. What I did before keeps me up at night, eats me from inside. But being around you again... shit, it reminds me that I didn't lose everything.”

A long beat of silence stretched after Logan's words. You stared into on coming traffic too, unable to form words. You held your arms together, the cool breeze of the night chilling your bones.

“Fuck,” you sighed, a wave a guilt washing over you. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

He shook his head. “You have the right to know.”

“I just made you spill your guts out on this public bench because I was worried that I was some freaky look a like for somebody that you used to know.” You put your head in your hands and groaned. “I can’t speak for past me because she isn’t me… but I am glad to have you here in this timeline, Logan. If it’s any consolation, it seems like we were always supposed to find each other.”

Logan couldn’t be more grateful for that fact. He never sought out to use you to fix some broken piece in him. It just happened that if given the chance, he would choose to love you every single time. Given all his mistakes, loving you was never a wrong choice.

You scooted closer to Logan’s still body, closing the distance until your thigh was pressed against his. You leaned over until your head was resting on his shoulder, soaking up his body heat. Neither of you said anything for a while. You didn’t need to.

Logan’s voice travelled through your body when he spoke again. It was gruff, making him clear his throat before starting over. “They had a nickname for me according to the TVA. They called me 'the Worst Logan'.”

“Do you believe that?” You peered up at him. It was that same look that made him want to run for the hills. You were disarming without even trying. He felt naked, unable to hide his beating heart that you held in your hands. After a thick swallow he was able to answer.

“Not as much. I’m better than before.”

You nodded, content with his response. “And you’ll keep on getting better. The TVA doesn’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

You slipped your hand under Logan’s that rested on his thigh and he quickly squeezed it like a lifeline.

“I’m not subbing you in for anyone, bub. Plus, past you was never this sappy,” he joked.

“Oh fuck off,” you chuckled. “But thank you. For telling me everything.”

“You’re easy to talk to,” he shrugged.

You and Logan remained on the bench for a little while longer. The sleepless city continued to hum along, cars honking and people talking, and you sat there absorbing it all, hands still entwined together.

thank you so much for the request! sorry it took so long, I was trying to balance angst and good ending. Check out Not Just Neighbors ("the worst" Logan x Reader) for more context! I'd love to hear y'all thoughts xx!!

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter

[princessmaybank]

Roomate!JJ fucking reader before her date...that's it

Perfect

Pairings: Sweet!Roommate!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (fem. receiving), spit, p in v, swallowing, etc.

Summary: Read the ask^^

Author's Note: This one is a little short and I'm sorry it took so long @everydaydreamer 🩷

"Really? Topper?!" I stomped into the room watching her put her dangly earrings in. She was driving me mad wearing that skin tight, deep red, silk, dress. "Yes! I don't see the problem JJ!" She yelled back at me, damn she was feisty. "Don't see the problem? Topper is fuckin' crazy Y/N!" I shouted. "No crazier than you!" She picked up her handbag and started to leave the room.

Before she could make it past the doorframe I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to me. Her front pressed against mine. She looked scared for a moment. I nearly forgot I was still holding onto her arm until she reminded me. "Let go! You're hurting me Jay." She was really upset, that wasn't my goal. My hand left her arm but before she could run, my arm snaked around her waist.

Her heart was telling her to stay no matter how hard her body wanted to fight that response. For a moment I looked into her eyes and I saw a glimmer of what I think was lust.

"D-don't go.." I muttered. Her eyes trapped mine, dancing back and forth between the ideas of staying and fleeing. I was praying to God that the latter would lose.

"H-he's waiting for me right outside." Her eyes never left mine. I knew she wanted this too. All this back and forth 'fake' flirting bullshit. I couldn't stand seeing her leave this house with another man.

"Topper can wait." I pressed a deep kiss into her lips causing her to gasp but she leaned into it. I walked us toward her bed and laid her down on it. Our lips tangled together as our hands rushed to touch every part we could of the other.

"Topper isn't going to worship you how I'm about to Y/N. No man ever will." I said stepping off of the bed and crouching in between her legs. "Jay..." I silenced her when my lips met the inside of her thigh. "At least let me call him so I can cancel." She whined. A smirk grazed my lips at the thought of her calling him. "Sure sweetie, but I'm not stopping." I continued my kisses, getting closer to her heat.

She let out another whine as she picked up her phone and called Topper. My hands found her lace panties and pulled them down. Anger boiled in my veins when I realized she had worn them for him. The line was still ringing when I gave her pussy a smack. A small punishment for dressing for him. "Hey Y/N I'm outside, are you ready?" I heard his painfully stupid voice come through the phone.

I rolled my eyes but licked a stripe up her pussy to distract her. The sound of her hiss let me know it worked. "H-heyyy..." My tongue gave her a few long licks before sliding inside her drenched hole. "T-Topp.." was all she could manage.

Poor thing.

"Y/N are you okay?" I heard him ask. As if he cared, he just wanted to fuck her then throw her to the side. I lightly bit down on her clit causing a moan to escape her lips. "N-no! I need to caaancel our da-te." My tongue played with her clit and my middle finger found her hole.

"Why what's wrong, do you need help?" Man was he stupid. Can't even tell what a woman sounds like on the brink of an orgasm.

"NO! I-I don't feel..." I sucked on her clit and bounced my finger on her g-spot. "SO GOOD..." she arched her back while humping my face and finger.

I don't even know what Topper was muttering when I reached over and clicked 'end call'. "Aww you didn't have to cancel your plans for lil ol' me..." I said in a cute little country accent. Y/N rolled her eyes with a breathy laugh.

"Come here." She pulled me up and onto her so I was hovering. I brought my lips to hers and it got heated quickly. Our clothes were on the floor in a matter of seconds and our bodies rubbed together as our lips danced.

Y/N pushed me onto my knees and before I could ask why she spit on my dick and rubbed it around so every part was wet. She got back in her position and lined me up with her entrance. "Ya sure?" I looked up at her. She nodded with approval before yanking me closer to her. I couldn't help the small chuckle that came out.

When we were finally comfortable I pushed my tip in with a small gasp from both of us. I inched myself in every so often letting her adjust to my size. "Jay...please.." She whined. I couldn't wait any longer either so I slammed the rest of my length inside of her before pulling out and going in again.

My pace was fast but I made sure to take care of her. I moved a strand of hair out of her face before cupping her cheek and looking down at her. Her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth was wide open. She is so beautiful, I've always known that, but especially like this, taking my cock. "Such a good girl. Wanna open your eyes for me?" I asked gently and watched as she peeled her eyes open. She looked into mine as I jutted deeper into her.

This caused her eyes to roll back and her nails to claw at my back and biceps. She's perfect. "Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum Jay...I'm gonna cum." She moaned, not taking her eyes away from mine. Like I said, perfect. "Mmm shit- cum on me baby.." I groaned picking up the pace. I kissed her forehead, giving her a little motivation. A loud moan of my name came out of her mouth as she released all over my cock.

I worked my dick inside her, riding out her high and chasing mine. I pulled out and fisted my cock. My cum shot out and onto her chest. A few strings of it landed on her face making me feel bad but she looked damn beautiful with my load on her pretty little face. "m'sorry baby.." I chuckled and she did too.

"It's okay..." She used her finger to sweep it into her mouth. "I don't mind." She said after swallowing. Perfect. If I didn't just fucking bust I definitely would've from the sight of her doing that.

Her phone was blowing up with texts when I sat beside her. "Topper is wondering if we could go on a make up date soon." She spoke. "Tell him no." She looked at me confused as I wrapped my arm around her. "You're mine now. Not lettin' ya leave." I smirked and started laughing. She smiled and nodded. Y/N put her phone on the table not worried about responding to him, instead just laying on my chest. "I've been waiting for you Jay. Perfect timing." She sneered with a laugh. She's gonna be the death of me.

[izzabela]

HALLOOO... I really love your work sooo much, jshsjsjshsjs. I can't get enough to re-read, so... can I get a request about the lin kuei Bros or earthrealms champion or both? so the reader has a sakura power (from Naruto), you know healing power and a MONSTER PUNCH so their friend/girlfriend on period and got sooo moody when she watched her friends/boyfriends not around her to calming her (cuz period was so suck and cramps hurt like hell) when she seeing (one of the lin kuei bros or earthrealms champions make a mess to her) and she was sooo mad and didn't realize she punch him in the face until it hits the wall. and the rest I leave to you.

sorry if my English is not understandable and messy (this is my first request, so I'm typing it with a lot of nerves). Thank youu

Packs a Punch - Roster Fic (not all of them are included)

in which your menstrual cycle affects those around you in a different way

a/n: i'm starting my period! also, i really tried to write for all of them, but i fear my brain has run out of juice...

ship[s]: johnny cage, geras, raiden, tomas vrbada x f!reader

warning(s): none, f!reader = f!genitalia, menstruation (though, people should be more informed on it regardless), throwing in some real examples from myself and other women around me

Dearest, gentle reader, periods suck- but so does having incredible healing power and super strength.

And when hormones and powers combine, a recipe of disaster is baked into reality. Luckily, your "reality" consisted of magic, gods, and eccentric people in a world 99% of the population hasn't even heard of.

Even so, sometimes they feel your wrath- even when it isn't your fault.

====================

Johnny Cage

- poor Johnny, subjected to the mercy of your power during this month's round of menstruation, especially since he's been gone for a couple of weeks for a mission

- poor guy, bringing flowers, chocolate, even a new heat packet with the latest tech (he realized heat was great aid in helping you relax)

- he was so sure he told you he'd be gone for a while during this mission, but all memory is gone when the only thing you're trying to survive your insane mood swings and even crazier cramps

- coming in your shared home, Johnny carefully treads the eerily dark and quiet home. he sees a lump on the couch, and every tip-toe closer to you is a year of his life getting crossed off his timeline

- he can hear you sniffling, and when Johnny just barely utters a soft (and wary) "hello," Johnny's sealed his fate

- you're ripping him a new one, crying about how he left you alone to deal with your cramps. how you had to take more advil and ibuprofen than the recommended limit, and how you missed him so

- Johnny's trying to approach you, carefully inching closer and closer to you with all of his peace offerings. honestly, it irks you more that he's treating you like a feral animal than a girlfriend

- "You left me, and now you look at me like I'm some helpless mutt?!"

- one minute, Johnny's seeing your tear-stained face. the next, he's seeing a playback of his life (was it always so vain?). he's also feeling the ground (except, it's supposed to be carpet, so why does it feel like drywall and wood?)

- it's not until his nose tingles, a reaction from the wood-dust and drywall shavings, and he sneezes, and he looks between you and wherever he was laying

- a comedically large, human-shaped hole was imprinted into the wall, and he can't even begin to process it as he's coaxing you to stop wasting tears on a "valid, totally valid" human reaction

Raiden

- Raiden asked his sister to describe her period symptoms in full detail once when he was fifteen (it earned him a slap in the face from her and more chores from his mother). still, she gave him the information, and it remained dormant in his mind until he met his girlfriend-you

- Raiden was attuned to the requirements to keep you comfortable during your period: hot towels, ice packs, warm baths, massages, tea, your favorite snacks and food- he has everything ready to make sure that each menstruation period of yours goes as smoothly as possible

- except when it doesn't

- it's really not his fault, you came home from Madame Bo's short-breathed and panting, sweat lining your forehead as you dropped everything and laid on the floor

- and you'd been dealing with the most awful customers, all of this not being Raiden's fault as he walks in to find you exhausted and drained

- "Are you alright, love?!" he calls out, kneeling down to get you off the dirty floor and to a cleaner space. you sigh, shaking your head as you keep yourself from letting frustrated tears fall

- you allow him to work on you, Raiden wiping your face and makeup off, wiping down your sweaty body, even him kissing your hands and everywhere else as he takes care of you

- it frustrated you, honestly, with how well he could handle everything while you were breaking apart (it's not your fault, but you're not really listening to your brain either)

- he notices your wobbly chin, and the simple question of "What's wrong, lovely?" has you breaking faster than water rushing through a dam

- you admit through warbled noises and wet tears that you hate how well-together he is, how he's always on top of everything, while you're breaking down. you also took this time to cry about work at the restaurant

Geras

- never did Geras think that someone like you could allow him to feel so human. me smiles just a little more, and you've gotten him to chuckle a few times

- though, he still lacks knowledge in other mortal/human things, especially how women's biology works, and yet he does his best to accommodate you

- Geras always brings you tea freshly brewed by Liu Kang for your periods. he's learned how to give massages as well, to ease the pain in your lower back and hips

- Geras has even asked for a sunroom to be built in the Wu Shi, Fire Temple, and the Hourglass realm- places that are familiar to both you and him. still, not even that is enough to save him from your hormonal wrath

- during this period, no tea, massages or sunlight could quell the frustration that bubbled within you. you had been waiting for ages for Geras to open the portal from the academy to the fire temple- it had been three hours since his scheduled time to do so

- cramps already twisting your insides, a searing pain in your bum, and a pulsing in your head indicated that this would not be a good week for you- and Geras just had to make it worse

- your strength got the better of you, stomping into the ground and leaving footprints into the concrete. kicking rocks didn't help either, as the projectiles brought fear to the unlucky students that were walking near you

- when Geras finally shows up, you've practically leveled the courtyard. with that glare you're giving the immortal man, he might as well be next

- "for three hours, Geras!" you screech, holding three fingers up into his face. "three! it's already hot enough with the sun out, but the fact my cramps made it even more unbearable- and this migraine! no water helped me with this either!

- you're giving him a (reasonable) earful on tardiness, how you were sweating in the scorching weather, and how he just forgot about you. obviously, the last wasn't true, he just got caught up in hourglass duties he didn't realize time passed (and can you blame him? he's dealt with enough of it...)

- "i just... i just can't believe you didn't watch the time!" you swung your arms down into his chest, and though he blocked it, he wasn't able to lock his feet in place to deal with the recoil

- he was basically punched into the wooden wall of one of the rooms of the academy. thankfully, no one was inside, but it doesn't cover up the fact he left a huge, Geras-shaped hole in the wall

- you rush over to him, frantically wiping all the splinters off his back and sides, even cleaning up the nicks of blood that began to peek through his skin

- "this is nothing, dearest," he said calmly as he wiped the precipitate off your forehead. "for the pain you endured due to my lack of diligence take more concern."

Tomas Vrbada

- Tomas doesn't remember how he dealt with his sister's periods. if anything, though, he hopes that it wasn't anything close to yours

- it's not that he doesn't love you (he has a ring all ready for you), it's just that he values his life just as much as he loves you. and honestly? he can't keep going into the infirmary of the Shirai Ryu every single month during your shark week

- this week is particularly awful: puking every morning, heat flashes, even fainting- you were not having this feeling of debilitating hopelessness stop you from continuing your daily tasks

- Tomas put you back into bed, strictly forbidding you from doing anything. while that did help some, it could've helped more if he was next to you. it didn't help that he didn't bother to check up on you the entire day

- which leads him into the current moment, trying to calm you down from a fit of pent up rage from today

- "i get that your clan means a lot to you," you began, "but I just don't understand how you couldn't take just a couple of minutes to see me?"

- you keep listing the things he should've done: should've kissed your head as a sign, should've brought you food instead of the servants, should've should've should've

- "Am I just that unbearable?" you probe, and Tomas ferverously shakes his head no. "I don't understand why you didn't see me!"

- Tomas, trying to explain his poor choices, didn't have time to react to the flurry of emotions that came out of you

- bits of anger, lots of frustration, and even more tears, Tomas was finally close enough to give you a hug- at least he thought

- no longer were you in his immediate vision, and instead he saw you running towards him, running past the drag marks in the wooden floors and through sliding door's latest design choice (why did the hole look so much like him?)

- you pet Tomas's hair, stroking the ash-colored hair and peppered his forehead and face in kisses. more tears ensued as you began to chant apologies and "i love you's"

- "no no," he said weakly, getting up from his spot in the gravel (so the courtyard was where I ended up, he thought). "i must apologize for my behavior. And if you like, we can make it up now since brother has released me from my duties."

=====================

i hope you liked this req! i really tried to add more but this is all my brain could allow me, i wrote them

i'll see yall in the next fic!

[loomisadvocate]

the inevitable 𖤐 part five

woodsboro would soon be a distant memory - but some things would make it hard to forget.  

pairing: billy loomis x fem!reader

word count: 7.4k (holy shit i am so sorry)

tags/warnings: strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, smut (eventually), angst, slow burn (heavy on this), cursing, alcohol and marijuana, make out scene who cheered!, probably others i'm forgetting.

a/n: clearly i got a little carried away with this part... it's the longest one to date. i hope that's not a bad thing. not 100% edited bc i promised i would post today. enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

“I’m sorry, he actually said enchanting?”

Tatum stifles her laughter to avoid any of her soda passing through her nose. That, and to avoid any more stares from the old woman who’d been glaring at Tatum over her less-than-modest plaid skirt. You nod, scrunching your nose up at the memory.

Your outing with Tatum has, so far, been spent filling her in on your entire Billy situation. It was prompted by her asking why, and you quote, “rat-boy,” was so hellbent on the group knowing in the first place, seeing as you’d only formally known each other for a few weeks. In the spirit of having no more secrets, you gladly answered her question.

You started from the very beginning: how a seemingly innocent conversation about red wine versus white turned into a quick trip to the garage that ended in telling him your plans to move. If Tatum thought the garage incident was hilarious, she was sure to piss herself when you told her about him coming to your window.

“Wait for it; it gets much worse.” You laugh along with her and take another bite of the pretzel you were sharing, wiping cinnamon sugar dust off on a useless paper napkin. “So then a week later, I’m writing my paper and hear something outside. I’m thinking it’s a small animal or something, but no. Guess what?” You pause for dramatic effect, Tatum raising an eyebrow and waiting expectantly. A few seconds go by before her hand smacks on the table and she gasps.

“Shut up!” The old woman next to you grunts and picks up her belongings, clearly fed up with your friend’s dramatic reactions. Tatum doesn’t care, and neither do you. If people looked at you and saw two high school seniors behaving like they were spilling middle school gossip, you couldn’t care less. You’d been waiting for more moments like these with her, and you’d be damned if you let a stranger spoil it with just a dirty look.

Tatum lowers her voice and leans in closer to you. “Shut up. He came to your house. Through your window?”She confirms with you, and you nod with your nose scrunched up.

“And I actually let him in, which is the even crazier part. But I talked to him—like, actually talked to him, Tatum. And he wasn’t that unbearable. Then, for whatever reason, he just flipped a switch.” You run a hand through your hair and push the pretzel towards her. Thinking about it all was taking away your sweet tooth. 

What confused you the most about Billy Loomis is why, all of a sudden, he made fucking with your circle a personal mission. You racked your brain, thinking perhaps you had offended him by accident and didn’t realize it. You’d been doing that over and over again, coming up empty each time. Tatum knew him much better than you did and had a different angle, seeing as her boyfriend was the boy’s best friend.

“I think Billy is just a shithead and likes to get under people’s skin. He’s really good at it,” she offers. You already had the opportunity to learn that the hard way. “So what happened after you guys talked? Did you throw him out on his ass?” She asks with a giggle, getting a kick out of the mental image of you grabbing him by his hair and tossing him out of the window. A bit morbid, but a girl could dream.

You hesitate to answer. It’s not that you wanted to lie again; god no, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But something about telling another soul about the tension and the bubbling desire you’d been feeling in your gut since meeting him? It felt eerily similar to the reason you took so long to tell Tatum about leaving; it would make it real. You were perfectly content living in denial for as long as it took, even if that was up until the moment the moving van drove away.

You don’t answer, and Tatum kicks your leg lightly under the table. “Hello?’ She draws it out, waving her hand in the air. “What, did you guys make out or something?”

“No!” You shout immediately—defensively and hopefully convincingly. A few more people turn to look due to your quick outburst. “He got all... angry? Called me ungrateful and said I needed to wrap up my pity party. So I called him an asshole, and then..." You trail off at the memory. He taunts you, his lips now ghosting over your temple and his slim fingers resting on your hip. Through the thin, unreliable material of your t-shirt, you could feel him tracing circles. 

“And then what?! You’re killing me here.” Tatum is growing more impatient by the second, like she’s heard the juiciest rumor about her favorite celebrity on TV, and suddenly the signal goes out. You look at her with uncertainty. Truthfully, you weren’t even entirely sure what had happened yourself. “I swear to god if you don’t spill.”

“And then it got weird,” you continue. Tatum doesn’t speak for you to know she’s asking how it got weird. “He got really close to me, like he was going to kiss me. And then he just didn’t? He said I should finish my paper and said my secret wouldn’t last much longer. Then the party happened, and he tried to give me a ride to school this morning. Well, I accepted the ride only ‘cause I would’ve been late and—“

“Whoa, we aren’t going to just skip that part. You guys almost kissed?!” Your best friend was crazed by all of this. Finding out you were moving, that Billy had it out for you, and that he had made a half-move on you all in one day was a bit much, even for her. She had absolutely zero interest in your ride to school this morning. Besides, she would be reinstating herself as your chaffeur starting tomorrow anyway. 

"It was just weird and tense; nothing crazy happened. But it was definitely something. I just don’t know what his angle is.” You shrugged the entire thought away, entertaining it felt distasteful.

Admittedly, you hadn’t reached the point of being repulsed by him. The Billy you’d met a month ago was lingering in every crevice of your brain. Even the Billy that appeared in your bedroom seemed more kind, more palatable in some sense. Billy had proven thus far to be, if nothing else, a complete wildcard. You weren’t sure which Billy you would get on any given day. One day he is mocking you in your bedroom; the next he’s embarrassing you; and after that, he’s offering to bring you to school.

It was all too confusing, and your mind being seemingly detached from your body was not helping. The manner in which he could keep you frozen in place with a single look, your eyes the only part of your body able to move. Tracing over his stature, his lips, and his hands. It was positively disturbing. Now it had happened not once but twice, and everyone knows what they say about the third time.

"It sounds like he wants to see if he can get the library girl to open up more than her books." Tatum giggles and finishes off the sugary snack, crumpling up the paper to toss into the trash later. You don't respond; you're still fantasizing about the night in your room. Even when he wasn't in proximity he was able to throw your focus. What you fail to notice is Tatum's dawn of realization—the revelation that occurs while you're daydreaming. 

"Oh my fucking god, you want to screw him!" She says it accusingly, pointing a finger at you. This is definitely enough to catch your attention. Your mouth is agape, but nothing comes out in your defense. After stuttering a few times, you manage to say something; however, it doesn't remedy much. 

"Tatum, I don't want to screw him! He's horrible. Abhorrent, even." You throw in a big word in an attempt to throw her off your scent. Tatum knows you. She's known every guy you've thought to be remotely cute based on how you look at them. You never made a move on anyone the entire time you'd been in town. Partly because you preferred to avoid any serious attachments and strife when you eventually moved, but also because boys just weren't something you prioritized. 

"You're basically drooling just thinking about it. God, no wonder there's so much tension." Tatum is enjoying every second of this. Maybe a small part of her is doing it on purpose, just as a little payback for what happened. Your willingness to talk to her about it, despite how humiliating it was for you, didn't go unnoticed. What killed you was how on the nose she was. It felt good to have your best friend in the loop on what would likely be your first and last real boy problem until the end of the school year. 

"Ugh, you're right." You confess, unable to even laugh. Instead, you grab the hair at the top of your head and rest your face on your palms.  "What do I do, Tatum?" You ask for guidance; your voice muffled. First you hear the slurping of the rest of her soda; she'd run through hers in record time.

"Just mess around; you're leaving soon anyway. He’s clearly into you, in his own bizarre, freakish way. What's the worst that could happen?" Tatum answers nonchalantly, and it earns an incredulous look from you. Tatum had personally ensured Billy was nowhere within five feet of you up until last month, and now she was encouraging you to sleep with the enemy? 

"You're insane. I'm not going to mess around with him. He's an asshole; he has no respect, and he's made it clear he likes seeing me miserable.” You shake your head and lean back in your chair; one of the legs must be shorter than the rest because it's been rickety since you sat in it. 

“True, but maybe he could like you? The only person who knows what Billy is thinking is Billy. Stu probably doesn't even know what happens in his bird brain." She offers an explanation, and you can't exactly disagree. You never knew what his motive was, and clearly, he kept his cards close to his chest. 

"I know he's a dick; trust me," she continues. "And I'm definitely not a fan of him after what he pulled. But it's almost summer, and you've never even gone on a date with someone. Obviously, it's not a necessity, but you could probably benefit from a little something to take the edge off. You are a little bit uptight." Tatum's hands are clasped on the table as she tries to reason with you. Not only are you still in shock that she's suggesting this, but now you're surprised to find yourself agreeing.

Even so, there was still the matter of addressing his little stunt. Now that you and Tatum were fine, the next two things to take care of were, first, Randy, and secondly, the fucker that caused all of this in the first place. 

"I can't believe you're telling me to screw around with Billy Loomis." You state, frankly, with a twinge of amusement donning your features. 

"I can't believe you were already thinking about screwing around with Billy Loomis. You wear your thoughts on your face, by the way." Tatum smiles at you patronizingly, but you know it's with a light heart. You definitely had a lot to think about, but most of it needed to wait until after you tracked down Randy. 

The squirrely one of the group was hardly ever taken seriously, but you knew that in this situation he needed to feel heard. He truly did see you as a sister. Whenever Stu would shoot down his ideas, you were always one step behind him, coming to his defense. You always said yes when he asked to hang out after school, mainly because he would go into a dramatic monologue about how much you hated him if you said otherwise.

Even though Tatum was your best friend, it was an unspoken feeling among all of you that Randy had somehow gotten the shittiest end of the stick. Randy was chaotic and, at times, unpredictable, but in a lot of ways, he was the one who bridged everyone together. You were positive that if Randy wasn't part of the group and hadn't pulled you from the library so many times, you wouldn't have gotten as close to Tatum. In the same beat, Randy was a simply guy. You knew an apology and a promise of grabbing food (on you, of course) would likely be enough. You still wanted to make it up to him.

With a clap, you stand up, ready to get out of the food court that was quickly starting to fill up with more people. The mall on a Monday afternoon was, believe it or not, one of the more entertaining places to go around town.

"No more Billy-talk; let's go. I need to find Randy." Tatum agrees quickly, standing up and tossing all of your trash in the bin before looking around in her bag for her car keys. Tatum agreed to stop by the video store on the way back and wait for you to talk to Randy. She assured you that he wasn’t angry, and noted that it wasn’t really in his nature to get angry anyways. That brought you much more comfort. 

"For the record, fooling around when you're mad at someone is so much more fun. Why do you think I start fights with Stu so often?" Tatum twirls her car keys around her pointer finger and catches them in her palm. "Let's roll, Arizona," she says in a deep voice, earning a light smack on the arm from you. 

You push Billy to the back of your mind for now, where he sits at any given moment lately. Perhaps Tatum was right, but if you were going to fool around with Billy Loomis, you were going to need to get your nerves in check. 

Your talk with Randy was equal parts amusing and proactive. As Tatum informed you, Randy was nowhere near angry. Hurt, yes. Shocked, absolutely. But Randy, like your best friend, also knew that you couldn’t be an awful person if you tried. All of your self-hatred over the situation now felt slightly hilarious. You’d caught Randy at the beginning of his shift, luckily for you. That meant he wasn’t annoyed by people making, in his opinion, subpar movie choices just yet.

You’d given him a very similar spiel to the one you gave Tatum, filled with an obscene amount of “I’m sorry’s” and a very long hug. You had to remind him you weren’t leaving that night to get him to pull away. Nonetheless, it appeared that a lot of your worst fears were no cause for concern. Nobody (that you knew) hated you or would be cursing your name for the foreseeable future. 

Randy did make it a point to really hammer that Windsor College was still taking applications despite the priority period ending already. He and Tatum had applied as soon as they opened, wishing to get as far away from Woodsboro as possible. Why it ended up being Ohio of all places you had no idea. Still, you rattled the idea around in your head. You figured it couldn’t hurt, but that was something you had to speak to your parents about.

The last you’d heard, your father was planning on taking a book deal that required him to live in New York in order to be close to the publishing company. Out-of-state tuition was likely going to be way too expensive, even with grants and scholarships. If you were able to convince him to agree on Ohio, you wouldn’t have to completely start over in the friend department.

Tuesday morning arrives, and for the first time since last Friday, you wake up without a weight on your chest. Your usual morning routine ensues, and it’s music to your ears when you hear the familiar horn of Tatum’s car outside your window. The ride to school felt even better today; after all, you didn’t have an impudent troll following you until you got into the car. Stu is taking up his usual spot in the passenger seat, his seatbelt evidently not on. Midway to school, he turns around, practically on his knees in the seat, which earns a reprimand from Tatum.

“So how are things with you and Randy? All better now?” He asks enthusiastically, a twinkle in his eye telling you he was probably asking because he wanted some juicy drama to laugh at.

“Yep, we’re all good. All is right in the world again, or whatever.” You nod once and keep your answer brief, refusing to give in to his wish. Your relationship with Stu was interesting, to say the least. You didn’t quite know him well, but his personality made it easy for you to take his banter in stride instead of taking it offensively.

“And what about things with Billy?” He asked immediately after, and Tatum slapped his shoulder quite harshly. You can see in the rear view that she is glaring at him. You scoff and direct your attention to her.

“You told him? Him of all people?! Tatum!” You lean forward and push Stu away by putting your hand over his face, staring at your best friend with a look of betrayal.

“He was gonna hear about it eventually; besides, he technically brought it up first!” She defends herself, pointing the finger at her boyfriend. You look between the two of them beyond confusion; what reason could Stu possibly have to bring up you and Billy? You raise both of your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.

“You guys were like, eye-fucking each other on Friday. I didn’t know if I should feel awkward or kind of turned on,” he starts cackling as you start hitting him repeatedly.

“Don’t. Even. Go there!” You pause between each word, giving him a final slap on the top of his head. Stu was probably the least observant of everyone. If he and Billy were Dumb and Dumber, he was definitely the latter (which wasn’t saying much, really).

"Hey, fucking chill! I'm all for you getting some. A little weird it's from him, but maybe it'll fix that uptight attitude you've got going on," his words echo the ones his girlfriend had uttered to you less than twenty-four hours prior. 

"Why do you guys think I'm uptight?!" You immediately shift into an even stronger defense mode, pleading frantically to the couple in the front seat for some kind of answer. You were no idiot; you had enough self-awareness to know that perhaps you could take your unyielding need for structure and order down a couple of notches.

Stu catches that you don't comment on 'getting some' from his best friend, and sticks his tongue out at you. "Arizona's fucking Billy!" He yells it as Tatum parks in her usual space, loud enough that if the windows were down people would have definitely heard it.

"Leave her alone! They haven't screwed yet." Tatum speaks up finally; although not to as much of your benefit as you would've appreciated. She puts the car in park and you jump at the opportunity to get out before you strangle Stu for his teasing. You scowl at the 6'4 child next to you and he, as usual, ignores your silent protest. 

"Don't worry, Stu has to be on your side because I'm on your side. That means no Billy tomorrow night, right babe?" She looks up at him to confirm, but you can tell she's shooting daggers at him; compelling him to provide the answer she was looking at again. 

"What's going on tomorrow night?" You ask. Hopefully it was nothing involving as much alcohol as the last time you spent time with them. 

"Movie night, Randy insists there's a movie we need to watch that can't wait until the weekend. Billy will not be there." Tatum's chin turns up and she smacks Stu's chest. He feigns discomfort but she quickly provides him with a swift kiss.

"No Billy," you repeat. Relief washes over you. The unavoidable confrontation with him that had been plaguing you could be put off for one more day. The three of you split up to go to your respective classes, and you can only hope that Stu makes good on his word and keeps Billy as far away from you as possible.

——— 

Stu, surprisingly, keeps his promise. In fact, Billy was nowhere to be seen all day at school yesterday. Today he'd passed by you in the hallway, but he was too invested in whatever conversation he was having to notice you, or he chose to ignore you. Either way, you were content. Stu welcomes you inside, clearly prepared to drink the night away in his signature red 'party robe.' You didn't plan on drinking copiously; after all, it was still a weekday. However, the memories of the last time you were in Stu's living room began creeping up on you as soon as you walked inside.

Nobody brought up last Friday, which you were grateful for. But if you were going to relax enough to enjoy your night, at least one drink was necessary. To avoid falling into the cycle of running through beers all night, you instead asked Stu for a shot of tequila from his parents' liquor cabinet. It was hot and stung your throat as you forced it down, but the warmth that filled your chest afterwards was well worth it. That, and the soda you'd downed immediately after, helped with the foul taste. Everyone else indulged in a shot of well, most of them chasing it with their first beer of the night.

You were comfortable in the same place you were the first time you'd come to Stu's house. It seemed like so long ago. The season had already changed to summer since you'd made small talk about wine with the boy, who would soon become something close to your only adversary. Tatum and Stu were already settled in their places while Randy fiddled with the VHS player, a sight you'd become used to.

The tape's sleeve tossed haphazardly on the small table read Hellraiser IV: Bloodline, and you kept your complaints to yourself. You didn't plan on spoiling Randy's enthusiasm for the remainder of your time in town. You just really did not like horror movies, good or bad. Randy performs his regular pre-movie sermon, this time complete with a full run-down of how the original director had bowed out due to "artistic differences" and that a lot of the characters' fates had been rewritten. You couldn't help but inaudibly laugh at the irony. Oh, how you wish for your fate to be rewritten. 

You actually try to focus on the movie, despite the faint buzz you can feel between your ears from the tequila. A group of guards are attempting to break down the door in order to take Dr. Paul Merchant when loud knocks at the front door scare all of you. 

"Jesus, fuck!" Stu yells and groans loudly, hopping up over the back of the couch. Your attention briefly wanders to the entrance, but the front door is out of sight from where you're sitting. You don't hear much and assume Stu is coming back any second. 

A few minutes go by without Stu's return, but Randy and Tatum are too captivated by the movie to notice. You get up quietly to avoid any other unexpected scares, going through the open archway until you can see the front door. Stu's towering height is hiding whatever he was looking at. 

"You can't be serious, Stu," you hear a voice whisper. Whoever he was looking at. Stu senses you behind him and quickly turns to look over his shoulder, revealing none other than Billy fucking Loomis. Of course, he would be here right now. 

Upon seeing you, Billy attempts to step inside through the small gap. "Just - there you are. Arizona, can I please talk to you?" 

Stu puts his leg out to block his path, his hands clasped together, while his eyes flash between the two of you. It would be a lie to say Stu wasn't finding this a thousand times more entertaining than the movie. 

"What could you possibly have to say to me that I would care about?" You respond boldly, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him, like you were suggesting a challenge. You should drink tequila more often. Billy's lips stay pressed together, and you can tell by the slight twitch of the corner that your reply was both unexpected and unappreciated.

Stu knows his friend far too well and quickly interjects. "How about you guys go talk in my room?" He suggests it, more-so an attempt to beg Billy not to make a scene. Stu is smiling, but it’s strained. Billy was not used to hearing any form of 'no,' and the last thing Stu needed was Tatum yelling at him for Billy showing up unannounced. You glance over at the living room, both of them completely unaware of what was happening in the foyer. 

“I’d rather rot than listen to anything that comes out of your mouth.”

With that, you turn on your heels and walk straight back to the kitchen. Luckily, your arms were crossed to hide your shaking hands from his view. They are just still enough to pour yourself another shot of tequila, and you drink it without a chaser this time. You shake your head first, then your shoulders, and end with your arms in an attempt to get your body to relax. You desperately need to calm down and carry on with the rest of the evening as you intended—Billy free.

You return to your spot just as Stu reenters the living room, and trailing not too far behind him is Billy. So much for him not being here tonight. Tatum finally looks over when Stu sits down next to her, and her jaw drops while she follows Billy with her eyes.

“Really?! I told you not to invite him!” She whispers harshly, making no effort to keep it a secret that he wasn’t exactly wanted. Billy doesn’t bat an eye; he just sits on the floor furthest away from you, right by the arm of the sofa Tatum and Stu were occupying.

“He just showed up. What was I supposed to do?” Stu whispers back, throwing his hands up defensively. “Just watch the movie; who cares?” He mutters, avoiding looking in your direction. You and Tatum both roll your eyes, settling more into your respective places as you attempt to focus on the movie again.

It’s not much longer before Duc de L’Isle is summoning the demon princess, Angelique, into a woman’s body. Even with the movie accelerating, you’re processing none of it. The small television doesn’t give off enough light for you to see everyone, but it does cast the perfect amount of illumination on Billy. The movie progresses without your attention, and even with Randy’s animated reactions, Tatum’s commentary, and Stu’s childish (and inappropriate) jokes, you have no reaction. You feel as though you’re watching yourself from the other side of the room, desperately trying to look uninterested enough to avoid any attention coming your way.

You and Billy are playing the same game. From his spot on his floor, you are just in his peripheral vision. He can make out that you're sitting with your knees to your chest, but he can't see your face clearly without making it obvious he was looking. He is actively fighting every urge to steal a quick glance at you, truly hoping to find you looking right back. Every so often, he adjusts, the hard floor starting to be a literal pain in his ass. Each time, he manages to look at you for what feels like half a second. 

Thirty minutes later, your couple of shots of tequila are starting to wear off, making you painfully paranoid about a certain someone. Just as you'd done before, you get up quietly and pad over to the kitchen. The tequila bottle is sitting in the same place you'd left it, your empty shot glass by its side. You sigh softly, taking the top off and pouring another to the brim this time. You quickly scan the counter for something to chase it with, but all the sodas are empty. You take a few steps to the fridge and pull it open, bending over to look for something. You spot a lone can of root beer in the back and grab it. 

When you turn back around, another lanky figure is waiting for you. You gasp instantly, and the root beer falls from your hand. Nobody in the living room stirs at the disruption; the movie is too loud.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you begin, your mouth immediately snapping shut as your brain catches up to your body. 

"No, just me." Billy gives you a placid smile. You don't say anything in response, stepping around him. You make it a point to hit his shoulder. 

"Fair, I deserve that." He nods in understanding, hands clasped behind his back. You deserve a hell of a lot more than a shoulder-check, you think to yourself. 

The can opening fills the space Billy expects you to take up with a response. He watches you intently, chin turned down, while you chuck back the shot and follow it up with root beer. You do your best not to show it on your face. 

"Arizona, I'm just trying to apologize," he begins, taking a step towards you. Immediately, you fall back and hold your hand up between the two of you. 

"Like last time? I'm not interested in hearing it." You snip back at him. "Why can't you get the hint that I don't want to listen to your fake sympathy? And I sure as hell don't need to be reprimanded by someone like you." You keep your voice low enough to keep this conversation as private as possible. The last thing you want is another confrontation like last time.

He stays silent and stares at you, his face falling just enough for you to notice. It's clear he fully expected his ambush to work, but there was no way you would go through this again. Not if you could help it. His nostrils flare so fast you almost miss it, but what you do miss is how fast his hand is wrapped around your elbow. You begin to protest and try to yank it out of his grasp, but Billy is intent on getting you upstairs. You both struggle up the stairs, and you are nudged into a bedroom with gaudy blue and red plaid sheets. The door is almost slammed behind you as Billy stands in front of it. 

"What the hell is your problem?!" He demands an answer, and you laugh incredulously. 

"Are you serious? What part of I don't want to talk to you do you not understand?" You attempt to leave the room, but he intervenes by stepping over to the left. You huff and try the other side, but he mimics you. 

“I rarely apologize, you should feel grateful. Are you that goddamn stubborn?" His height is an advantage in this situation, and he uses it to make you step backwards towards the bed. 

"Do I need to remind you that this entire thing is your fault?You are always so out of line; you just can't help yourself, can you?" Days of pent-up anger at the boy in front of you bubbled up to the surface. Your fists are clenched by your side, something Billy finds quite endearing. You were right; he couldn't help himself. It was too easy to get you this way: defensive, riled up, with a spunk nobody else in the group had seen except for him. He knew it was in there somewhere; he just didn't expect to find your buttons so quickly. 

"What did you say earlier?" He cocks his head to the side, and his forehead creases. A beat passes, and he snaps his fingers. "That's right, you'd rather rot than talk to me. Rot, Arizona. Bit harsh, isn't it?" He speaks evenly, his words laced with condescension. 

"I meant it, and I still mean it," you confirm. "You had no right to do what you did." 

"Oh, I know that. For the record, I am very sorry about how it all happened," he says, rocking back on his heels a couple times. You allow his words to go in one ear and out of the other.

"But if I hadn't, you wouldn't have told them. You and Tatum seem like two peas in a pod again, so was it that horrible?" His hands are held out, palms facing up as if to say, see? It all worked out. 

It takes a moment for you to decide if you want to even entertain this. 

"That's... Billy, that's not the point. It turned out okay, but it's the principle of the situation." You are too exhausted by the subject to continue holding your ground.

"Girls and their principles," he chuckles. You raise your eyebrows and shake your head once, about to really force your way out, but Billy tries to dial it back.

"It's a joke, Arizona. Relax. I really am sorry. I was a dick that night, and I would probably be one again. But everything is fine now." This boy needs an extensive course on the art of a meaningful apology.

You sigh, almost in defeat. Billy was so caught up in the specific situation that he was neglecting everything that occurred before it. You'd opened up to him; you'd trusted him with your feelings. You told him something you hadn't even told your best friend, and he used it against you. 

"That night in my room?" You start, jogging his memory for him since he had clearly forgotten. "I thought you were actually hearing me. I thought I was gaining another friend before I left, and you didn't care. You embarrassed me in front of everyone, yeah. But you also just..." You trail off, and this is why you didn't drink tequila. You can feel your eyes heating up, and you have to catch your lip between your teeth to keep it from trembling. 

"I what?" He asks. He's speaking softly now, inching closer to you.

You don't want to say it. You'd come to terms with the fact that Billy was not your friend, but it was unusual how simply unkind he could be. You had only been crying because of hurting Tatum, but you hadn't fully processed your feelings about what Billy had done. You were so intent on soaking up more good with your best friends that you ignored the other side of the coin. Now it was just the two of you a third time, and even after your bold display downstairs, you are still scared to tell him how you feel. 

"You really hurt me, Billy." You finally breathe, and Billy is right in front of you. As quickly as the air comes in, it leaves again. You blink profusely, trying your best to keep any rebellious tears at bay. For the first time, Billy feels. a pang of guilt. He wasn't the most emotionally intelligent guy on the planet, but he thought he had enough awareness to remember that this was a layered betrayal for you. 

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." It's the first offering of regret that you believe, albeit not completely. Each shot of tequila has relaxed you up to this point, but you feel that familiar air coming around you again, of your defenses being broken down with hardly any effort. You don't respond, and Billy takes it as an opportunity to move closer. Now you are almost nose to nose, Billy shrinking down to meet your height.

His eyes have that same look that you'd seen the night in your bedroom. His hair is falling in the exact same place. Deja-vu strikes you in the gut when you realize that once again, you haven't moved an inch. Billy's hand comes up to cup your cheek, head tilted slightly so he can get a good look at you. 

"You are so confusing," you confess, mustering up enough nerve to make eye contact. The corner of his lip comes up in a half-smile; he knows he's confusing. It's not an accident. 

"I know; it's what makes me interesting." He remarks, and your head shakes in disagreement. His hand is cupping your chin now. You're talking in order to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming heat beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

"You don't have to be an asshole to be interesting, Billy." Your head is spinning from the proximity of your bodies. You begin to think back to your first encounter in Stu's garage—how charming he appeared to be and how easily his compliments rolled off his tongue. Even in your bedroom, he seemed endearing before it went downhill. In a different circumstance, you actually might've liked him. 

"Then what else should I be, hm? Any suggestions?" Before you can answer, his thumb swipes languidly over your bottom lip. It seems to draw a deep breath out of you, much to Billy's satisfaction. He has you exactly where he wants you, where he's so easily been able to get you.

"You could try being decent for once," you retort, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you stay firm in your conviction, his touch is getting more distracting as the seconds pass.

Billy's smile widens. "Decent, huh? I can be decent," he replies as his thumb continues its slow descent along your jawline. You almost laugh. He can be decent despite proving otherwise at every turn. 

"Everything is okay with your friends. And we're finally alone. Do you want to keep talking about that, or do you want to talk about us?" He challenges. You want to push him away to reclaim some control over the situation. But there's a part of you that's satisfied the longer you stay this close to him. After all, he was right; everything was better now. He was the only loose end that hadn't been tied up. Tatum's advice is echoing in your head; it couldn't possibly be that bad. Could it? 

"I don't want to talk." Your voice is low but no longer hesitant. Your eyes trail from his lips up to his eyes, and without needing to say a single word, Billy understands.

His other hand cups just under your ear, and he pulls you the few centimeters of space to close the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours gently. The first thing you notice about his lips is the lingering taste of alcohol. You wonder for only a second if he did the same as you, downing a few shots in preparation for some kind of confrontation. Billy takes his time, his grip on you loose enough that you could pull away at any moment if you wanted to. After weeks of dancing around each other and playing tug of war, every logical part of you wanted to stop this. But the other part of you that never gave in to anything but always wanted to try—that part was much stronger right now. 

Your hands come up to wrap around Billy's wrists, and slowly but surely you stop fighting all of your urges to stay away from him. Billy takes this as a signal that you want this just as much as he did, likely for very different reasons. You feel his hands trail down to your lower back, resting right on the dip before the top of your jeans. Your hands find their way to his shoulders instead, and Billy begins stepping back towards the bed.

You follow his every move, completely enthralled by the warmth pooling between your legs to take notice, or really to even care. Billy's tongue swipes along your lower lip just as he sits on the edge of the bed, using his hands to guide you onto his lap. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and greet it with your own, your fingers moving to clasp around the back of his neck.

The excitement was starting to kick in, and kissing Billy turned out to be the most incredible thing you'd done in a while. Your best friend's words come back again, and this time you have every intention of listening to them. 

Your lips are still moving with his near-perfectly. It is a shock after telling yourself how incompatible you were and putting so much of your energy into making sure he knew just how much you couldn't stand him. A wave of urgency passes over you, and you're pressing yourself against him without a second thought. Billy groans when you brush against the steadily growing bulge in his pants, so you do it again. 

Billy pulls away just enough so he can speak, his lips even pinker than usual. "Slow down, Arizona. We have plenty of time," he teases you, and this time you don't take it personally. Your heart is racing, and you don't know what's making you feel more drunk: Billy or the tequila. 

"Sorry, sorry." You shake your head, attempting to get yourself to think clearly. Billy's hands are comfortable on your hips, his fingers dipping just below your waistband to rub small circles. 

"It's okay. Just come here," he says softly, easing you forward, his lips touching your throat instead this time. He places a few kisses, and a shiver runs down your spine that makes your back arch. He catches your lips again, but it's even slower this time. He's torturing you. You whine, beginning to get a little greedy when you hear someone who is definitely not Billy. 

"Well, well, well," Stu leans against the doorframe, shaking his head in amusement. You've never moved so fast before in your life, hopping off of Billy's lap and scrambling to try and look like you weren't just devouring him. 

"I fucking knew it; I told you!" He pumps both fists into the air triumphantly. Tatum and Randy soon pop up right behind him, and you begin to swear under your breath, hiding your face in your hands. Billy is sitting next to you, leaning back on his hands as if nothing was happening.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Randy is beside himself, pointing between you two with a look of horror. Stu nearly collapses in a fit of laughter, and Tatum stands with her arms crossed, trying to hide her smile. 

"Movie's over, freaks. Let's go home." She cocks her head to the side, signaling for you to get up so you can catch your ride back. Thank god for Tatum, whether it’s intentional or not she is helping you avoid further humiliation.

Billy remains quiet, and you almost look to him for some kind of help. What were either of you supposed to say? 

You clear your throat and adjust your shirt, avoiding giving him a second glance, and do the short walk of shame out of the bedroom. Randy is speaking nonsensically—a string of questions and words that don't make any sense. What you don't see is Billy hiding a smile of his own, even coughing to try and remain as stoic as possible. You hustle down the stairs, flushed with embarrassment, and follow Tatum outside to her car. 

Your seatbelts are on, and the radio is off. Now that you're out of that room, the reality of what just happened settles on you. Tatum is looking at you from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge if she should say anything or wait until tomorrow. You look at her, and a few more seconds of silence pass between both of you, and you burst into laughter. 

The third time was most definitely a charm. 

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi~I saw a lot of reader asks and how badass she is. So, what if powerful reader is also innocent and she somehow during the fight (human side) manage to pin her opponents to the ground, immobilized them only for her to grin and lean close to their face and said, "Want to go for second round?" Causing the other to froze and blush due to the context of her words. The crowds scream in excitement while the human fighter facepalm.

While reader is just sits up on her opponents, straddling them and confused why the audience literally screaming and why her fellow fighters seem flushed and some even frowning or glaring. And then the god fighting her suddenly blurted a marriage proposal out of blue, still blushing and even move to hold her hands or just hold her close.

Hades, Poseidon, Beelzebub, Hercules and Thor please!

-You were a ray of sunshine, but you could also be a ball of fire when you wanted to be.

-You were a kind and gentle person by nature, always wanting to help others, but you knew how to fight, to defend yourself, as many had told you that you were too innocent, and bad people would try to steal you away.

-You had been chosen to fight in Ragnarok and quickly proved that you were not a pushover, you were way stronger than you looked, handling your opponent, one of the strongest in Ragnarok, with ease!

-You managed to leg sweep your opponent and disarm him at the same time, knocking him to his back and you were quick to pin him down, sitting astride his chest, holding a knife to his neck.

-You were announced the winner and you smiled down at him, pulling your knife away, “That was so much fun! I wanna have a second round!”

-The crowd was immediately cheering, making question marks appear around your head, confused as to why they were all cheering while others couldn’t help but face-palm, seeing how dense you were, with the way you were sitting on (God) and what you had said.

-Hades- Smiled up at you, seeing you denseness, his hands coming to your hips, making you squeak as he held you there, “Marry me!” your face immediately flushed, shocked about where his proposal had come from as the cheers had gotten louder. He had been impressed with your skills, with your power, but he also knew that you were a kind person, you were perfect in his eyes. You were stammering, your hands on his chest, trying to pull away from him before he sat up and you slid to his lap, the crowd growing even louder and he could only grin as you didn’t realize the position you were now in, waiting for your answer, enjoying your flushed face.

-Poseidon- He was stunned that you had managed to best him in combat, but your statement, which you had meant in a non-perverted way, had a fire quickly going in him as you got off him. You held out a hand to him, offering to help him up, which showed your kind nature, he took it, but only to hold you there as he quickly moved, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your eyes went wide, and you instantly flushed, pulling away, but he kept his grip on your wrist, “Become my wife and queen.” Your mouth fell open as the crowd went wild, seeing the normally stoic Poseidon kiss you and propose publicly, finding it amazing!

-Beelzebub- You went to move off of him and you froze as his hands came to your waist, keeping you seated, and you looked down at him, a bit confused, which made a smile rise to his lips, seeing that you were indeed dense as you hadn’t realized what you had said, only knowing the crowd was cheering for your boldness. You wiggled only slightly, confused, “why are you holding me down? Aren’t I heavy?” he chuckled softly before he spoke, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek, “Will you marry me?” you pulled back, your hands coming to your cheeks as a sound like a deflating balloon escaped you and the crowd went even crazier, hearing the proposal while you were stammering, trying to make sense of why he was proposing to you.

-Hercules- He grinned up at you, not at all bothered that he had lost, which made you smile before he inhaled, “Marry me!” you turned white, freezing in shock and the crowd went absolutely bonkers, hearing the proposal, cheering for the two of you while you looked around frantically. You were concerned that beating him was a marriage proposal of sorts, your face red as you were stammering, trying to apologize for beating him before he sat up, his arms rising to keep your legs around his chest so he could look up at you, only slightly as he was so tall, asking you again to marry him. Your eyes turned to swirls as you couldn’t make any sense of the situation and he had to carry you backstage for you to calm down, before he asked again, wanting your answer.

-Thor- You had gotten off of him and had turned to help him up, showing him your kind nature, but he was already standing by the time you turned, but you weren’t bothered. You smiled at him once more before he reached out and caught your wrist, which made you turn, a bit confused, silently pondering if he wanted that second match right away. His other hand rose and brushed your hair behind your ear, shocking everyone by his gentle actions before he spoke, “Marry me, Y/N.” your eyes went wide before you pulled back, hands cupping your face, “What?” the crowd quickly went wild, hearing the proposal and he smiled softly down at you, thinking your flushed face was cute before he asked you again, his voice soft, his eyes full of adoration for you, which really confused you as you had never met Thor before your fight with him. You had no idea what to do!!

[pixthefuckup]

a crack taken seriously fanfic idea:

all the jocks get their own separate weird redemption arcs that never seem to intersect despite how close everything is to each other... until a giant cliche climatic moment like all of them working together to help richie after his attack or something. it causes the friend groups to merge and become one giant battalion against the lords of black.

brenda gets hers by working with holloway and somehow everytime she's relearning morals or subconsiously using magic, none of them went to visit her despite the fact that the diner would probably be pretty fucking popular bc it's good food and unlike pasqualli's, it doesn't have a reputation for giving or getting head if you take someone there.

kyle gets his by hanging out with tom houston and despite the fact that the shop room is the quietest during lunch, nobody ever comes to hangout or talk to mr. houston about a project or grading when he's in the room other than hannah who could also slightly feed into kyle's redemption

jason gets his with an internship at ccrp and getting parented by most of the team (bill is an actual dad, ted is highkey an obnoxious uncle, paul is known to babysit, charlotte is pretty caring, and sylvia seems pretty cool). this one is the one where it's cracky but slightly serious in the way where he slowly starts dropping football but still manages to bro up. there could be a bit of foreshadowing with a bromance break up and get back together because of how jason enjoys his internship more. bonus points if he somehow becomes bros with any of the other nerds in the meantime because of the internship.

stacy gets her through working with beanie's for a short stint of cash and getting a better-ish role model from emma (my god do i love a jaded adult with a better heart than they think getting thrown at a immature, naive, popular kid who believes in something extremely toxic. it is such a rare trope but i love it). despite beanie's popularity, stacy has somehow gotten the hours where the popular kids are held up by things and most of the nerds have hurried out of school.

i want either stacy's or kyle's to be the most wacky of the other jocks not noticing their morals getting better just because kyle's takes place in a room that i assume would be close to the field and mr. houston is dope to hang out with while stacy's change would be the funniest to ignore since it would be the biggest by getting rid of her superficiality, allowing her to have depth, and learning to study more

if we were going to include max in this, i'd hand him off to the nerds, but i think it's crackier that he's still an antag and we turn the langs' play on cheesy 80s movies' cliches where the nerds continue to get beaten down until one takes rule of the school by beating the other jock into submission and the other gets the girl into a play on cringy 2000s movies' cliches where the jocks and nerds have to team up against a common enemy, an even worse and meaner jock, and realize that they're more alike than they think. (grace being crazier than max would be a hard thing to slot into the plot in this case... could be either she doesn't go crazy and get corrupted by the black book or a double play on things, that even if the nerds became cool like the 2000s movies would make them to be in the ending, the hierarchy would still be just as bad)

[isas-bathbombs]

Is this RL character a swiftie?

Angie

oh absolutely. she’s annoying about it too

she has gotten into arguments over it

her twitter is just her bullying jake gyllenhaal and kanye west

she’s that one swiftie who tricked people into believing starbucks would give them a free drink if they streamed lover

her fav songs are definitely new romantics, 22 and shake it off

i think her fav era is lover

biggest ME! defender. she was devastated when “hey kids, spelling is fun!” was removed

Dani

probably not, but she hears it a lot because of angie and cass

its unavoidable for her so she probably knows more songs than the average person

doesn’t have strong opinions on her, but vibes with some of her music

would defend her despite not knowing shit

her hopeless romantic ass would love enchanted

Bela

no but she’d LOVE evermore and folklore’s lyricism if she gave it a chance

she would love the lakes and cowboy like me

hears a lot from cass and is lowkey annoyed by it

but she would 100% go with cass and dani to a concert if they asked her to come

she’d even make friendship bracelets for it. its so funny to imagine her having a meltdown bc it’s actually super tedious and the string keeps breaking and the beads go missing or shooting to her eye

ur telling me swift didnt write mad woman and the archer about bela? :/

Cass

YES. THE BIGGEST SWIFTIE

her fav album is 1989. she cried when TV came out

she was first introduced to taylor swift from the hannah montana movie and the song crazier changed her life

she forced elena to queue for eras tour tickets with her

she even cancelled rehearsals to get those damn tickets

make a joke about taylor's jet and she'll get mad

“im sorry did mother nature write style? yeah i dont think so.”

she listens to how you get the girl like its real instructions

probably has also gotten into online arguments about her too

when red TV came out, she asked you to temporarily break up with her for 10 mins so she can experience all too well properly /j

is a james hater without realizing she’s kinda him

the type of person who would pause a conversation and go “wait i got a taylor swift lyric that fits this”

Donna

no but would hear a lot from angie

similar to bela, she’d love evermore and folklore if she gave it a chance

she would’ve loved hoax and happiness

Alcina

has beef with taylor for absolutely no reason

one time cass would be playing the piano and she’d be like “oh wow that’s beautiful. what piece is this?” and then lost it when cass said it was a taylor swift song

she’d love false god if she listened to it tho. you’d probably be able to get her to like taylor if she listened to the right songs

Miranda

a hater /j

[sweetlittleelf]

im thinking so hard about the comedy of an au where porter fully dos not realize that he's going crazy bc he hasnt gotten laid in years, which leads to him getting brainpoisoned into thinking ascending to godhood is a good idea. and then he fucks jace ONE time and is like "oh. well maybe this whole evil plan thing isnt such a great idea" and channels all of the evil plan energy into committing so many HR violations at aguefort with jace.

oh my god Jess that's so fucking good

I do think the original plan was just "bring Ankarna back," and Porter dedicated himself to that plan for decades (completely neglecting his social and romantic life in the process) and slowly over time started to resent how much effort he was putting into this to his own detriment. especially because it's a plan in service of Ankarna and his ancestors and even if he succeeds, there isn't that much of a reward in store for him. and he's thinking like, "well maybe Ankarna wasn't even that good, it's not like she stopped the fall of the house of sunstone in the first place. why am I trying so hard to bring her back when someone else could have done better? when I could have done better?"

so instead of just abandoning this plan that's driving him insane, he adopts an even crazier plan with the idea that at the end of it, he'll get everything he wants. so he betrays bakur and gets a lot of people killed and sides with Arienwen and Kalina and helps a bunch of people do some very bad things because it'll all help him in the end.

and then he has a drunken fumble in a coat room with Jace Stardiamond at an Aguefort faculty party and his whole worldview shatters. and it's no longer 'I need to become a god by any means necessary', it's 'I need to get my cock inside Jace Stardiamond again by any means necessary'

he dedicates all his time to chasing after Jace with the intensity of a military campaign. and Jace, freak that he is, ignores the many red flags and just enjoys that he is being desired and pursued.

Porter is just as creepy and obsessive and he absolutely would still kill for Jace, but now the only thing he's plotting involves bending Jace over his desk after the school day is over.

Aguefort previously did not have a HR department (as evidenced by Goldenhoard announcing a staff vacancy during a memorial speech) but they gain one because of Jace and Porter. All the other faculty hate Jace and Porter now because everyone has to sit through a mandatory seminar on appropriate workplace behaviour.

[bibiwrld]

Hobie x animalloving!reader

Reader is with Hobie on his boat and she’s feeding the ducks and birds around the water and Hobie sees and they both start doing it together :,)

Ooouuu, I like this🤭

“Be careful now, love.” Hobie eyed Leomie from the crow’s nest. “Don’t want you falling in.”

Leomie was too fascinated by the ducks that swarmed the boat to even hear what Hobie was saying. She threw peas at them, making them gather in one area, dipping their heads into the water to eat the peas.

“Are ya even listening’ to me?” He swung to her, without her even realizing.

He went by her side, looking at the ducks, then to her. She looked so happy, he couldn’t help but smile.

“These likkle creatures are more important than me?” He startled her.

She flinched, almost dropping the bag of peas. “H-Hobie!” She pouted and playfully punched him. “Don’t scare me like that.”

He chuckled. “M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

She scoffed, throwing more peas. “Yeah right.”

Hobie sighed, getting closer to her. “I really didn’t mean to, I just wanted to be closer to you is all. You’ve been giving these birds more attention since you’ve been here.”

She looked to him. “They’re my favorite things to look at when I come here and they’re so adorable.” She couldn’t hide her love for animals.

Hobie knew how much she loved animals, you couldn’t catch her without an animal by her side. At a party, let there be a dog or cat, she’s petting it the entirety of the party.

“Am I not adorable too?” His head tilted.

God, he really was adorable.

“You are.” She replied shyly.

He got closer, much closer. “When you’re done feeding them, meet me in my cabin, yeah?”

A quick reaction passed over Leomie’s face. From flustered to relaxed, she replied. “Yeah.”

She knew exactly what that meant.

She laid flat on Hobie’s circular bed, with her legs spread wide open for him. His wicks tickled her inner thighs, as he feasted on her pussy.

“You just keep flowing.” He muffled from between her legs, with her wetness running down his chin.

She gripped on his sheets, inaudible moans and cries erupted from her throat. Her eyes were barely opened whilst she tried looking at Hobie devouring every inch of her pussy.

He slipped a slender finger inside of her, pumping it quickly as she approached her orgasm. He emerged from her pussy, licking his plump pierced lips.

“I-I can’t..Hobie!” Her back arched, going on her tippy toes and bucking her hips.

“Yes you can, love.” He encouraged her. “Yes you fuckin’ can!” His finger never slowing down.

Leomie thrashed around, cumming on his fingers. Her hips stuttered with each cry. “Hobie! H-Hobie!” Her eyes stayed squeezed shut.

“Fuck yes, babe.” He marveled at the sight before. Her cum coated his fingers. “So fuckin’ hot, Leo, look how dirty you got my finger.”

He slowly removed his finger from messy pussy, lickin’ it clean, his eyes stared deeply into her teary ones.

She looked away, chest heaving, a complete mess in front of him. “You’re crazy.”

He removed his shirt, throwing int into a corner of the room and chuckled. “I can show you crazier.” He then unzipped his pants.

Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

He stood tall on the bed and pulled his pants down. “Did you think that we were done, Leo?” He threw his boxers somewhere, revealing his erection. “That was just a warm up.” He smirked.

🕸️

[basicrese]

oh my gods i could cry right now, i really could.

so here's my reactions to the first two episodes of Percy Jackson and the Olympians (long post ahead):

Episode 1

To start, I know we've seen and heard this from the trailer and sneak peeks already but hearing the line for real from the first episode, oh I almost lost it right then and there. This has been YEARS in the making.

Baby percy already embodying the snark and sass from facial expressions and internal monologue alone, i love him

In a similar regard, I know we've already seen it from sneak peeks but the possible Blackjack cameo made me so happy 🥹

The portrayal of the mist is everything I wanted and more actually

Sally being a Medusa ally, i know that's right!!!!!

"appointment to see Mr. Kane?????" "at D'angelo's??????" They're making me go crazy because all these subtle name drops and I have no idea if they're just tiny easter eggs or if they mean something in the long run 😩😩

the design for Mrs. Dodds as a fury?????? absolutely amazing and I love how they carried that entire scene out; how she was there one moment and gone the next and that Percy didn't suddenly turn into this invincible warrior. It perfectly set up the suspiciousness of what just happened because it all happened so fast and there was no room for Percy to process what actually happened because suddenly no one even knows who she is. BUT YET there's a momentary flicker of guilt and hesitation in Grover's face and curiosity in Mr. Brunner's (just as it was written!). You can almost hear Percy's inner monologue doubting their words because it didn't add up to their body language but simultaneously doubting his narrative too because everyone is proving what he saw otherwise.

"I'm all wet now" as Sally, dripping wet because she had just been basking in the rain, goes to hug him. there is little to none seriousness in this child's body

"You fell in love with God? Like Jesus?" unseriousness.

the very intentional lighting during the goodbye scene in the way it only cast golden on half of Percy and Sally's faces

the depiction of Sally being crushed like ofc we know she's being held captive in the Underworld BUT PERCY DOESN'T AND HE THINKS HE JUST WATCHED HIS MOTHER DIE IN SUCH A BRUTAL WAY RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS EYES I COULD SOB LIKE THE WAY HE FOUGHT? THAT WAS ALL RAGE AND DESPAIR.

ngl Percy just dropping names left and right made me so anxious with the whole "names have power thing" HJGKLDSBSG had me going "don't say his name out loud!!" during the car scene

oh that end-credits was gorgeous. and the way it depicts the entire story even ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

the sneak peek of camp after the credits, we're about to eat!!!

i did not realize rick even cameoed until i saw it on twitter help

Episode 2

"You drool when you sleep." SCENE EVERYBODY CHEERED

Mr. D passed out while holding a can of coke is the only way he could have been introduced actually (and the first Peter Johnson!)

The Big House is so pretty???

The vulnerability in Percy's voice when he was asking for help to find his dad i can't do this 🧎🏻‍♀️

THE. CAMP. IT'S SO VAST AND BEAUTIFUL I COULD ONLY DREAM OF TIMES LIKE THESE IN THE PAST. also the way i'm taking it right now is that the cabins are already so gorgeous so when annabeth revamps the place by tlo? they are going to go crazier with the set design i fear

the supposed red herring on the scoring that makes you think luke is gonna bully percy but he's actually a good guy that'll be a mentor figure to him WHEN THAT IN FACT IS THE REAL RED HERRING LIKE IT'S THE GENIUS OVER GENIUS FOR ME

i was kinda lost on who the other guy with luke and percy was at first until i realized it was chris. he doesn't know what'll happen to him when the fourth season rolls around like laugh while u still can chris

percy already advocating for the unclaimed, he has always been a real one!!!

grover you sweet little satyr i need to give him a hug. the protector also needs to be protected 🥹

the way i could tell there would be an answer to the god of disappointment joke help; like they're quips to you percy but they will actually have answers to every rhetorical question you throw their way 😭😭

"ignoring me is one thing, but he doesn't get to ignore you." one thing about percy, his mother always comes first 🙏

i can't get enough over the gorgeous cinematography I CAN'T

dior embodies clarisse's pride and cruelty with such accuracy but she's so pretty i wanna forget how mean she is LMAO

the percabeth dynamics already going so strong i could cry, like that first interaction???

i love ms. annabeth chase so much she is everything to me, the poise! the confidence! the leadership!

the capture the flag sequences oh it was everything

"I am Sally Jackson's son!" EXACTLYYYY

overall, i am going through the motions and it has been absolutely beautiful so far and everything down to the cast, crew, production, set design, costume design, scoring, cinematography has been done immensely well. i can't believe we're actually here 🥹💙

[careful-please]

Who is HE

Ok. Ok, that's-. That's a tall man. Like really tall. You really can't be blamed for staring. You have never seen someone so tall and imposing. He was even taller than the 7ft tall General. Who up till this point was the tallest man you had ever laid eyes on. And the General was speaking softly to him. His brow pinched in what looked suspiciously like guilt and concern.

You can't hear what they are saying from across the room but you would pay good money to just be in earshot. You really want to know his name. He's so large and.... well, he looks really tired and resigned. Lost some family in the fight if you had to guess. But what a warrior. He fit every stereotype of the perfect Nordic warrior. And you really wanted to know his name.

The mead sits heavy in your gut as you stand and try to subtly work your way towards the two mighty warriors, never taking your eyes off the taller man. You pause briefly by a pillar just a yard away when the man looks up randomly and makes eye contact with you. You freeze, butterflies fill your stomach. As quickly as it happened it was over. Your heart sank as he looked back at the General to answer a question.

But you would not be detered. You needed to know this gaint of a man. Needed to know his story, hear his voice, feel his strength. You feel a faint flush at the piercing realization that you are attracted to this stranger if only slightly. Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

Oh well. You continue to slowly inch closer, all while keeping an eye on the pair. You swear it seemed like the General was imploring the larger man to- do what you could not guess. To little information to go on. But it seemed very important based on the General's overall demeanor. You got the impression the gaint man was unconvinced.

Finally you had positioned yourself just a few feet away and could just barely make out some snippets of the conversation. Something about an undeserving father, responsibility to the people, and a daughter in need of her father.

Well. That sounded way more interesting than anything you had initially imagined. But what was the man's name?! You leaned closer trying to hear better.

"-Thor, if you will not listen to me than at least listen to Thrúd. She is determined to make you proud. Children will often act out in their attempts to curry the favor of their absent parents. If you do not listen she will simply run headlong into danger trying to be something she is not. Trying to be you." The General said lowly, his toned laden with palpable concern. Urging Thor to understand.

Thor. THE mighty Thor. Never in your wildest dreams had you ever thought you would lay eyes on your favorite fairytale. Admittedly not your favorite god, but the stories your da told you as a little girl about the bringer of storms had inspired many crazy adventures into dangerous ruins filled with all manner of monsters and cruel men.

Alright, this just got ten times better. And crazier. You were feeling overwhelmed. What were you trying to get yourself into? You must be drunk and hadn't realized it. Why else would you be plotting to make a move on a married man who also happened to be one of your favorite gods? It was madness. What would your mother say?!

Before you could get too excited you spotted a truly beautiful woman approach the two warriors. Her hair long and neatly braided and her face slightly pinched while she eyed the tankard in Thor's hand. It could be none other than Sìf, wife of Thor, mother of Thrúd. And there go all your plans. You watched as she spoke pointedly to Thor gesturing to his cup of mead. Thor shook his head and offered her the tankard. This seemed to appease her somewhat, her expression relaxing. She turned to the General and spoke briefly, obviously excusing her husband as she grabbed his hand to gently tug him away. To his credit you heard the General softly call to Thor, " Consider what is best for your child. Listen to her. She knows what she wants more than any other."

Well, this was just disappointing. Now you felt guilty for eavesdropping and coveting a married man. Time to go to bed. As you quickly made your way out of the longhouse you kept muttering to yourself. You could hear your mother's disappointed tone in your head and your brother's teasing laughter at your poor luck.

So wrapped up in your head, you didn't notice the body standing just outside the longhouse until you ran straight into a solid back. You bounced off with a audible 'oof', and stumbled back a few steps holding your nose. It wasn't broken but having it squished so suddenly was unpleasant.

You muttered a annoyed apology and examined the wall of muscle you unwittingly assaulted. It was Sìf. Wonderful.

You started stammering out a louder apology while she turned around fully to assess you properly. In a bemused tone, she assured you that you have inflicted no harm whatsoever, it would take much more than that to hurt her. And that had you flushing slightly. You could feel, with some mild horror, the girl crush blooming on the spot. Damn your severe adoration for any woman strong enough to choke the life out of you. Now was certainly not the time for it to be rearing it's filthy head.

You started backing up, tripping over your feet, and babbling rapid fire about how you meant no offense. Who would want to offend such a beautiful goddess, the wife of Thor, the most desirable woman you had ever laid eyes on. Oh gods, you were going to sew your own mouth shut if she didn't kill you for such an embarrassing tirade.

But to your emmense awe and infinite relief, not only was she giggling towards the end you saw Thor chuckling behind her. He remarks that you have excellent taste while his wife just shakes her head in baffled amusement.

Thoroughly red in the face and still backing up, you try to excuse yourself. But Thor steps forward and offers his hand.

Oh lord, he's talking about bedroom 'fun' and saying how he and Sìf like to keep things interesting by inviting a third person to their bed every so often. Now you are standing there frozen with your jaw hanging open and your eyes wide in disbelief. They want you. In their bed. Together. Doing very naughty things.

You have to pinch yourself to make sure your not dreaming which gets another chuckle out of both of them. And Thor prompts you for an actual answer, wiggling his outstretched fingers in your direction. You really can't say yes fast enough as you run into their open embrace and giddily follow them back to their bed. Your pretty certain you won't be waking for breakfast tomorrow and you really hope you won't be walking after either.

Let the fun begin!

[lowlylux]

I Am A Sinner (You Are a Saint

Chapter Nineteen | Never a God

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 6.8k

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

link

“Ei, listen to me,” Miko implores, her voice trembling as she does so.

“No, what you’re saying is…” Ei trails off, pacing around.  Her thoughts overwhelm her, a mixture of anxiety and disbelief.  She stops, looking at Yae Miko with wide, confused, eyes.  “Why didn’t you tell me you made a deal with her?”

“She wanted me to protect him,” Miko stresses, grabbing onto Ei’s hands, as if that would anchor them both into this moment.  It forces the other angel to look at her fully.  “Ei, I can’t just ignore her wishes, you know I can’t.  An agreement must be fulfilled.”  Her grip tightens, as if it would convey her helplessness in this situation.

“So you’re just going to die?  That’s it?”  Ei’s voice is sharp, but Miko knows she does not mean it.  Miko knows that the angel is just scared.

“To save your son, yes,” Miko says stubbornly, refusing to let go of her hands.  “Scaramouche will die without me intervening.”

“And he will die when you do,” Ei mutters, refusing to look the woman in the eye.  The weight of the truth settles in the air, as if it was meant to be there this entire time, taking refuge in their suffering.  “Miko he’s sealed…He doesn’t stand a chance being like that.”

“Then break the seal.” Miko’s eyes gleam with determination.

“What?”

Miko squeezes Ei, attempting to comfort the angel best she can.  “When I fulfill my deal with Barnabas, destroy the seal.”

“Celestia will be furious.”

“Then let them be furious.”  Miko’s voice does not waver…and Ei, well she cannot say no to her, especially when she is right.  They both know that.

Ei rests her forehead onto Miko's, closing her eyes as she just takes in the presence of her lover.  It just feels so precious, so fleeting in a way Ei regrets not savoring it more.  “Miko…I’ll miss you.”

“Who knows?  There have been crazier reincarnations.” Miko jokes, attempting to lighten both of their moods.  

“That’s what you’re hoping for?” Ei questions, lifting her head so that she can place a soft kiss onto Miko’s forehead.  “Reincarnation?”

“At least then I can just tell you that I’ll see you later.”

Finally, Ei meets Miko’s eyes, her own filled with unshed tears, a mix of sadness and gratitude swirling within. “I’ll see you later, Miko.” The weight of their unspoken fears and dreams hangs between them, a painful reminder of what they stand to lose. In that moment, the world around them fades, leaving only their shared love and the inevitability of their choices echoing in the silence.

And Ei’s composure almost fully shatters when Miko presses a cherry blossom into her palm.

●•·•●

Childe throws himself in front of the bullet, wincing as it pierces his flesh.  He collapses for a moment, taking a few deep breaths as tries to ground himself.

“You don’t have to do this…”

Kazuha doesn’t know whether he is talking to the Tsaritsa or himself, but either way he can stubbornly say the idea is ludicrous.  

“Childe…” she says, shaking her head at the lesser demon.  She kneels, grabbing his face harshly so that he is forced to look at her.  Childe’s eyes widen for a moment, a look of realization flashing through his features before going back to his not-quite-neutral expression.  Her voice has an almost sing-song-like nature: dangerous and unpredictable.  “Ruin the fun again and I’m afraid our little deal is void.”

“You said…”

“That I would keep your witch alive, not anyone else.  And it is on my own terms.”

“Yes ma’am,” Childe mutters, forcing himself to his feet.  He sighs, his shoulders dropping.  The demon looks uncomfortable, glancing between Kazuha and the Tsaritsa.  “The bullets won’t hurt her.”

“They hurt you.”

“It’s funny that you think we are anywhere close to one another,” Childe says, refusing to meet Kazuha’s eyes.  “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Don’t worry Childe, I’ll save the last one for you.” Kazuha shoots again, this time striking his target.  The Tsaritsa stumbles backwards, putting a hand on the wound that Kazuha just created.

She lets out a shaky breath, stumbling even more as she stares at the human in shock.  She raises a hand to show off just a small amount of blood, a mixture of gold and black.  Her smile drops as she flicks the bullet away, a bored expression back on.

“I had thought it would have a more dramatic effect,” she sighs, taking a step forward.  “Shall we try again?  Maybe I could act more shocked when you do it?  Or maybe I could scream?  How entertaining would that be?”

Kazuha glances at the blood on her hand, the sick satisfaction that he caused that.  He knows some of the most powerful beings of the time yet he made her bleed.  He did that, a human who still is not fully grasping everything going on around him.

The Tsaritsa notices his stare, lifting up her hand.  “Do you want me to bleed more?  I can deepen the wound, let you see it start to pool.”

“Shut…up…”

He shoots again, the bullet going toward her head.  It doesn’t even impact this time, the demon simply brushing it off as if it were a pesky, bothersome fly.  “That isn’t very nice.  I’m trying to make this enjoyable for you.”

“Why do you have to go after me?”

“Hmm?”

“Your witch used my mother to try and summon you.  He framed my best friend for murder.  He tried to kill one of my boyfriends and you just killed the second.  Why me?”

“Oh you poor human…” The Tsarista mutters, clicking her tongue.  “It just simply isn’t about you.”  Kazuha’s grip tightens around the gun, refusing to lower it.  But he lets her talk, something he knows he should not do.  “I pity you, thinking that you have any sort of importance.”

“So it was all a coincidence?”

“I’m afraid you just have bad luck.” The Tsaritsa says with a grin that makes Kazuha’s skin crawl.  He drops his arm, not letting go of the gun but feeling defeated.  “That’s all?” The Tsaritsa frowns at his actions.  “I was hoping for a little more bite…oh well.”

The Tsaritsa raises her hand, power emanating from her.  Kazuha closes his eyes, ready for the inevitable end.  He waits for darkness to forever cloud his vision, already wondering how Heizou will take the loss.

Oh Heizou…how he wishes he were here but at the same time is glad the man is somewhere else.  Perhaps he has a fighting chance.  Although, Kazuha knows that most likely is not the case, he has hope, as hope is the only absolute in a situation like this.  There will always be a small glimmer of it, no matter how impossible the situation is.

It changes depending on the circumstances.  One moment It is there, the next a faint glimmer, and then finally—miraculously—it persists until it is a blazing uncontrollable fire, unable to be ignored.

The end does not come, for Scaramouche is standing directly in front of him, a golden barrier encasing both of them that is able to front the blast.

●•·•●

A structure is placed at a demon’s feet.  It does not know how to react, instead left to stare in shock as a figure is raised into the air, the life being forcefully taken from the demon when the same figure leaps, a bullet piercing the demon’s skull.

Heizou takes a deep breath, ignoring the faint pain in his ankle from that last leap.  Was that ideal?  Absolutely not, but they stopped another demon from crossing the spell threshold so that is definitely a win.  “You know, those abilities of yours sure are useful.”

“I’m aware.”

“Really?” Heizou asks, his face scrunching up because of the answer.  “No thank you?”

“Why would I thank you for something I already knew?”  Albedo questions, tilting his head.  “I may not be the same rank as Childe but that does not negate the fact that-“

“Usually when someone compliments you, it is best to thank them even if you were well aware.  It’s to avoid seeming egotistical.”

“Ah, I understand then.  Thank you I suppose.”

“You’re welcome.”  Heizou mutters, glancing behind himself.  The sky still bleeds, stretching along as if a bucket were spilled.  He sees the snow fall, pieces of the grass disappearing as if it were never there.  

It is cold.

It is hot.

It is windy.

It is calm.

It is chaotic.

“They didn’t succeed, did they?” Heizou asks quietly, not really expecting any kind of response from Albedo whatsoever.  He just stares ahead, the exact location where he knows his loved ones are standing.  They are fighting while he is stuck on the sidelines.  He promised Scaramouche, yes, but this just seems utterly ridiculous.

“I don’t suppose they did,” Albedo says quietly to himself, also staring intently.  “Did I tell you there’s a chance Kaeya could lose his magic today?”

Heizou raises a brow, wondering what Albedo is getting at.  “What do you mean?”

“Kaeya imbued his magic with demonic energy in order to summon me,” Albedo says as if that is the most obvious thing in the world.  “His magic is purely demonic, it’s why he needs me most of the time for his spells.  Witches were never meant to wield demonic energy….” Heizou barely catches a glimpse of it, but Albedo looks as if he regrets saying that.

And that makes Heizou wonder if Albedo enjoys his current situation.  He is sure that Albedo likes…whatever it is that Kaeya and him have going on.  Honestly, Heizou really cannot tell if the two are together or not.  However, based on how regretful Albedo looks, Heizou does wonder how happy the two are.

Albedo frowns.  “If he loses his magic I fear my tether will fray.”  The demon shakes his head, sighing.  “He should have never summoned me twice.”

“But he would have been alone if he didn’t.”

“He’d still have his brother and father,” Albedo replies, frowning at his own words.  “Our worlds simply should not interact as much as we do.”

And now the demon has Heizou frowning at such a statement.  “Don’t say that…have you seen Childe with Diluc and Zhongli?  They’re all absolutely revolting with eachother at some points.  You can’t tell me they’re not meant to be with eachother.”

“They have their own troubles.”

“What about Kazuha and I with Scaramouche then?” Heizou presses on getting a bit agitated.  “You can’t tell me we weren’t supposed to interact.”

“Scaramouche is slowly becoming more human than you know.”

“Albedo I’m trying to understand your point here but it sounds absolutely moronic.”

“I am a demon born from the realm, I had never intended to stay here.  There have been witches that have tried to tether me but Kaeya is the first to succeed.  Childe is a human, no matter his attributes now.  Internally he is still wonderfully human, that is why he thrives in this realm.  Scaramouche is an angel who found his home here because the angelic realm never truly was that for him.” Albedo shifts uncomfortably.  “My home will always be the demonic realm and I do not regret saying that.”

But Heizou does not buy it.  The calm exterior, the neutral tone, the harsh words…all of it.  Heizou knows when someone is hiding something, it is his job to figure out those kinds of things.  “You’re really worried about Kaeya, huh?”

Albedo just nods, narrowing his eyes at the approaching apocalypse seemingly never halting its ever increasing reach.  “Be careful about the snow.”

“What?”

“You’re going to go after them, no?” Albedo questions.  “Avoid the snow.”

“How do I do that exactly?”

Albedo shrugs, already walking away.  “I can continue on with the plan…just keep your angel safe alright?” He pauses, turning toward Heizou again.  “Check on Kaeya for me?”

Heizou smiles, nodding.  He can do that.  He steps forward, toward the danger that is telling every single cell in his body that he should run.  But he continues on, and as the snow threatens him, he realizes that it does not touch him.

For a golden shield surrounds him the moment the first flake attempts to touch his skin.

●•·•●

Kazuha stares in disbelief, his mind struggling to make sense of the surreal scene unfolding before him. Before him stands Scaramouche, multiple pairs of wings now sprouting from his back, their feathered edges shimmering in the dim light like something straight out of a nightmare. He stands there, panting heavily, the effort of keeping himself upright taking its toll. His body trembles as though the weight of his own existence is too much to bear, yet somehow, the shield that surrounds him flickers but holds firm, glowing a brilliant gold. 

The Tsaritsa, her voice laced with sadistic pleasure, laughs with a chilling, triumphant edge. “It’s good to s-” she begins, but her words are cut short by a sudden burst of golden light that erupts from Scaramouche's form. His eyes are wide with fury, and though his body sways, he glares at her, determination burning in his gaze. The shield, despite the onslaught, holds steady as he pulls himself to his feet, though each movement seems to cost him more than the last. 

“How does it feel?” the Tsaritsa taunts, her voice dripping with mockery. “Every cell in your body is being torn apart, regenerated—improving.” 

Scaramouche doesn’t answer. Instead, with what little strength he has left, he lunges again, his movements jerky and desperate. His strike misses, the Tsaritsa easily dodging as if it were a mere dance. Scaramouche stumbles, crashing to the ground in a heap. The golden light that surrounds him flickers again, but it doesn’t fade. He struggles to rise, his hands shaking as he presses them to the ground, his breaths shallow and ragged. 

Kazuha watches in silent horror, his heart tightening in his chest. It’s only then that he truly comprehends the full extent of Scaramouche’s condition. Golden blood trickles from his nose, his mouth, even from his eyes—an unsettling sight that only serves to reinforce the idea that he is in a far worse state than he appears. His body is a patchwork of wounds, his form barely holding together. Yet despite it all, there is an unyielding fire in his eyes, a refusal to succumb to the agony that would have broken lesser beings long ago. How is he still standing? How is he still fighting? 

Another desperate attack—another miss. Scaramouche’s frustration is palpable, his teeth gritted in a snarl of pure rage. He’s not just fighting to win; he’s fighting for survival, and with each failed strike, the anger seems to burn brighter within him. But no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much he pushes his broken body, he can’t seem to land a blow. The Tsaritsa dances just out of reach, her movements precise and effortless, mocking him with every dodge. 

For a moment, Kazuha is struck by a thought—how is Scaramouche even conscious right now? With every attack, every movement, it seems as if his body should be on the verge of collapse, yet he pushes forward, unwilling to stop, unwilling to give in. His will is the only thing that’s keeping him going, but for how much longer? 

And suddenly, without a warning, arms wrap the Tsaritsa’s waist, forcing her to stay in one spot.  She struggles, groaning to no avail as she is stuck to stare at the sudden aggressor.  Childe stands behind her, eyes wide, holding her in place.

“Take the shot!”

“You’ll die,” the Tsaritsa says in a panic, struggling to escape the grasp of her harbinger.  Yet Childe stands firms, tightening his grip.  “Tartaglia-“

“Scara,” Childe says, ignoring her, obviously struggling.  He stares at the angel, not receiving a singular look of shock back at him.  The demon nods, obviously taking a deep breath.  “Please.

The angel nods, lifting his hand, ready to end this.  The light gathers at his fingertips, threatening to spill out.  But before it can be released, the Tsaritsa is let go.

Childe is pushed away, right into the awaiting arms of Diluc before both demon and witch disappear completely.  Scaramouche stands in shock, glaring at the newcomer with disdain.  “I had the shot.”

Yet Zhongli does not reply.

●•·•●

Childe’s body gives way under the weight of his own stress, and he collapses to the ground, forcing Diluc back with an almost violent shove. His breaths are ragged and shallow, each inhale coming faster than the last as his mind struggles to catch up. Panic grips him, and he finds himself sitting there, frozen in place, unable to do anything but breathe.

Diluc hesitates, then moves closer, concern etching deep into his face. But before he can lay a hand on him, Childe swats him away with a force that seems born more of desperation than anything. His eyes are wild, his body trembling. “I had her,” Childe says, his voice strained, as if trying to convince himself of something. “I had her, Diluc.”

“You were going to fucking die,” Diluc retorts sharply, his voice thick with frustration and fear. He reaches for Childe’s shoulder, gripping it firmly and forcing him to meet his gaze. “What did you expect us to do?”

Childe’s eyes dart to the side, as though the question itself was something absurd. “Let me die?” he asks, his tone flat, but beneath the words is a deep weariness. To him, the answer seems as obvious as breathing. In that moment, Childe is lost in his own mind, unraveling before Diluc’s eyes, his body jerking as he tries to push away the man’s grasp. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry…”

Diluc’s heart tightens, and without thinking, he moves quickly to steady Childe, his hand cupping the younger man’s face in a firm but gentle grip. The action isn’t harsh, but it’s enough to stop Childe’s frantic movements, forcing him to focus, if only for a moment. “Why did you try to stop her?” Diluc asks quietly, his voice softened by concern but still carrying an edge of confusion.

Childe looks up at him, his eyes red-rimmed, and for a moment, it’s as if the words are stuck in his throat. Then, finally, he speaks, the tremor in his voice unmistakable. “She’s not my queen,” Childe says, and his face twists with the weight of the words, like a wound that won’t heal. “She’s not the one who freed me from Pantalone. My face… she grabbed my face…”

Diluc frowns, confused. “I just grabbed your face,” he says, his brow furrowing in concern. 

But Childe doesn’t hear him. Instead, he grabs Diluc’s hand and repositions it on his face, forcing him to mirror the gesture in a way that makes Diluc’s stomach twist. The sensation is like a jolt of electricity running through him, and for a moment, he’s left speechless. Childe’s eyes are frantic, but there’s a raw, painful truth in them that he can’t ignore. “She grabbed my face,” Childe repeats, his voice shaky. It’s not a request for understanding, but a desperate plea for acknowledgment, a cry from deep within.

The moment passes, and Childe suddenly lets go of Diluc’s hand. With a quiet, defeated gasp, he shifts away, his back hitting the rough bark of a tree, and he slides down to the ground, crumpling there in a heap. He pulls his knees to his chest, his body curled in on itself as though trying to protect whatever’s left of his broken spirit. “You should’ve sent me back,” he mutters bitterly.

Diluc stares at him, disoriented. “Excuse me?” His voice trembles slightly, but it’s laced with confusion.

Childe doesn’t look up, his voice a quiet, tormented whisper. “All of this is my fault…” His breath hitches. “That stupid spell…” Tears begin to well in his eyes, spilling down his face. “She knew about Scaramouche before he even… I didn’t know what to do…”

Diluc’s heart clenches. He takes a step forward, his movements deliberate, as if trying to bridge the gap that’s formed between them. He kneels down beside Childe, reaching out to take his hand in his. His grip is firm, his touch warm against the coldness of Childe’s shaking fingers. “Childe, listen to me,” Diluc says, his voice low but full of conviction. “I’m pissed about a lot of things, but I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry if I made you worry about telling the truth.”

The words catch Childe off guard, and he looks up at Diluc with a mixture of disbelief and longing. “You are perfect, Diluc,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper as he moves closer, drawn to the warmth of Diluc’s presence. “I was scared.”

Diluc’s heart softens at the admission. “And you shouldn’t have been,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of Childe’s hand, offering a comfort that only seems to deepen the tension between them.

“I will always be scared,” Childe replies, his voice breaking as he squeezes Diluc’s hand in return. “I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t mean for this all to happen.”

Diluc doesn’t answer right away, his gaze steady as he looks at Childe. After a long silence, he smiles, though it’s tinged with sadness. “Why did you make a deal with her?” he asks, his voice soft but searching.

Childe laughs bitterly, the sound hollow in the still air. “She’s my queen,” he says, the words heavy with the weight of the past. “She said it would be simple. I just wanted you safe from any crossfire. I didn’t think she’d hurt Scara.”

Diluc nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “It’s okay,” he says, though the words taste bitter on his tongue.

“It’s not,” Childe insists, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve trusted you. I was stupid…”

“We just have to work on talking with each other,” Diluc says with a half-smile, squeezing Childe’s hand tighter. “That’s all.”

Childe manages a smile in return, though it’s fragile, almost fleeting. His face falls again, his brow furrowing with sudden concern. “Did we leave Zhongli there?” he asks, the question hanging in the air like a reminder of the battle that still looms over them.

“That’s your concern?” a new voice interrupts, smooth and dripping with mockery. Childe immediately stiffens, his posture going rigid as he slowly turns to face the source. Standing there, smirking with that insufferable self-assurance, is Pantalone.

Childe’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing in disdain. “What do you want?” he spits out, his voice sharp and cold, a barrier of hostility forming between them. His body subtly shifts to place Diluc behind him, a protective instinct kicking in without thought. The last thing he wants is for the man beside him to get caught up in whatever game Pantalone is playing this time.

Pantalone’s smirk widens as he leans in slightly, his tone a mockingly cheerful drawl. “Just wanted to offer my congratulations,” he says, his voice a silk-threaded taunt. “I don’t think the queen will be forgiving you anytime soon. Treason never sits well, you know. Though I suppose you’ve been trying to find a way out of this realm for some time, haven’t you?”

Childe’s entire body shakes with barely contained fury. His hand twitches at his side, a spear materializes in his grip, its gleaming edge aimed directly at Pantalone. The air around them crackles with tension, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it seems like things might escalate into violence. “Stay away from me,” Childe growls, his voice low and venomous. “Or was that not clear the other twenty times you’ve tried to taunt me over the last few centuries?”

Pantalone doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even take the spear seriously, barely acknowledging its existence as he nonchalantly waves it away. “Oh, I will. But there’s no fun in fighting you like some rabid dog, Childe,” he says, his tone condescending. “I want to leave this place, but our queen… well, she’s gone and ruined things, hasn’t she?”

Childe’s eyes narrow, sensing a crack in Pantalone’s usual calm. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

Pantalone’s smile turns into a sneer. “She made Dottore a demon,” he says, absolutely annoyed with the fact.

“You didn’t know?”  Childe grins, not at all stunned by the revelation. “That’s why she left the second spot open,” Childe says, a dark satisfaction bubbling up in his chest. “She was always planning to bring him back, a little reward for success.”

Pantalone’s smile falters just slightly, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Yet here I am, still stuck in this hellhole,” he mutters bitterly. He crosses his arms, seeming to consider something for a moment before his gaze shifts to Childe again. “You don’t have anything useful to say, do you? This changes nothing.”

Childe’s grin widens, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he says with an almost playful tone. “Stay around here long enough, and you might get caught in the crossfire when Scaramouche banishes her.”

Pantalone hesitates, clearly weighing the odds. He’s silent for a moment, his eyes glinting with something between calculation and disdain. Finally, he shakes his head, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If you’re lying…” His voice grows cold, his gaze turning sharp as a blade. “I will find you, Childe. And I will tear your angel’s wings from his back.”

Childe’s smile morphs into something darker, a challenge in his eyes. “Try it,” he says, the words laced with defiance. “I dare you.”

Pantalone chuckles, the sound rich with amusement, before turning and walking away, his steps confident, leaving behind only the echo of his laughter. “I hope to never see you again, Childe,” he calls over his shoulder.

And just like that, he disappears into the shadows, leaving Childe standing there with a wicked grin.

●•·•●

Scaramouche and Zhongli lock eyes, neither of them willing to make the first move. The air is thick with tension, the weight of centuries of history and unspoken animosity hanging between them. Scaramouche's posture is rigid, his wings twitching, ready for action at any moment. Zhongli remains calm, his expression unreadable, his presence a pillar of stoic resolve. 

After a long, silent standoff, Zhongli steps forward, breaking the stalemate. Without a word, he moves toward Kazuha and sits beside him, his movements slow and deliberate. As he does, a powerful shield surrounds them both, a shimmering barrier of energy that flickers with the force of the earth itself. The shield is far stronger than Scaramouche’s own, and as the radiant light intensifies, the pressure around him eases. 

Grateful for the protection, Scaramouche nods toward Zhongli. The other angel acknowledges him with a slight tilt of his head but says nothing, leaving Scaramouche to focus once more on the Tsaritsa. He takes a deep breath, his wings unfolding behind him, the air vibrating with the hum of raw energy.

With a flick of his wrist, Scaramouche allows some of his feathers to detach, falling like falling stars in a chaotic pattern. In a fluid motion, he snaps his fingers, and in an instant, the scattered feathers erupt into thousands of beams of light, each one sharp and precise, aimed directly at the Tsaritsa. It’s a far more refined version of the attack he used on Pantalone—an attack that feels like a distant memory now, an eternity ago. 

He shakes his head, dismissing the fleeting thought. Now is not the time for distractions.

The Tsaritsa reacts swiftly, her movements graceful but sharp, dodging the beams with expert precision. A few of the beams manage to graze her, leaving shallow cuts on her skin, but she evades most of them with remarkable agility. Blood drips down her face, a grim reminder of the battle’s ferocity, but she wipes it away with a cold determination, her eyes never leaving Scaramouche.

He watches her carefully, taking two of the falling feathers and shaping them into daggers of light. The blades materialize in his hands, their edges glowing with lethal intent.

"Taking inspiration from Childe, I see..." the Tsaritsa muses, her voice laced with amusement. 

Scaramouche grins mischievously, shrugging before he suddenly lunges toward her. His movements are swift and unpredictable, staying high and striking with a combination of quick swipes and expertly timed kicks. He’s relentless, forcing her to stay on her toes, constantly reacting to his agile attacks. The speed at which he moves makes it hard for her to defend, each strike coming just fast enough to keep her off balance.

But she doesn’t falter. Lowering her stance, she keeps her focus sharp, anticipating his next move. She dodges, parries, and counters with surprising agility of her own, refusing to let his quick strikes break through her defense. Though she’s at a disadvantage in speed, her positioning and control of the space around her keep the fight from tipping in his favor.

It’s a clash of styles: Scaramouche, fluid and unpredictable, and her, steady and deliberate. Every strike, every movement tells the story of two warriors locked in a dance, neither willing to yield—each trying to outmaneuver the other in a battle of wits as much as skill.

But Scaramouche is undeterred. He changes tactics, using his speed to his advantage, darting in and out of her reach, pushing her to her limits. He strikes from unpredictable angles, not allowing her a single breath to recover. But even as he launches attack after attack, she meets him blow for blow, her counters expertly timed and executed.  In a burst of movement, he leaps again, aiming to catch her off-guard.

He wraps his arms around her neck, locking her into a powerful hold and yanking her harshly toward the ground. They hit the earth with a heavy thud, both of them winded by the effort, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Scaramouche doesn’t relent, though. He holds the blade to her throat, his face inches from hers, his chest heaving with the strain of the battle.

For a long moment, the Tsaritsa doesn’t move. She simply stares at him, unblinking, her eyes filled with a mixture of contempt and something else—maybe pride, maybe resignation. Then, to his surprise, she laughs, the sound soft and chilling.

“Do it,” she says, her voice steady, as if daring him.

Scaramouche’s grip falters, his breath catching for a moment. He almost loses himself in the rush of adrenaline, but then he remembers why he’s here. His body is still aching from previous injuries, his mind clouded with exhaustion, but he presses on.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. He locks eyes with Kaeya, who nods at him from a distance. Scaramouche takes a deep breath and cuts into his own arm. His golden blood splashes onto the sigils beneath them, the ancient markings glowing with power.

The Tsaritsa shrieks in panic, trying to break free, but Scaramouche holds her firm. The light around them intensifies, expanding outward, a blinding aura filling the battlefield. The power of the sigils reacts immediately, growing stronger, feeding off the energy.

“No!” the Tsaritsa shouts, her face contorted in fury and fear as she tries to pull away. But Scaramouche holds her down, unyielding.

As the light begins to consume everything around them, Scaramouche’s heart pounds in his chest. The Tsaritsa struggles, her hands clawing at his grip, but slowly, inexorably, she begins to sink. Her body dissolves into the energy, her form slipping away as she disappears into the blacktop, her furious glare the last thing Scaramouche sees.

And then, she is gone.

Scaramouche’s grin spreads across his face, his chest swelling with the sweet satisfaction of victory. He looks over to Kazuha, whose relieved smile mirrors his own. But the moment of triumph is short-lived. Exhaustion finally takes its toll, and Scaramouche collapses onto the ground, his body giving out beneath him.

The last thing he hears before everything fades is Kazuha’s panicked yells, his voice filled with concern, but Scaramouche can’t muster the strength to respond. He lets the darkness claim him, knowing that the battle is over.

●•·•●

Scaramouche wakes up with a start, immediately thrown off by just how much white is around him.  He groans as he sits up, eyes widening when he realizes he is sitting on his hair.  His…hair? Scaramouche, in genuine pain, moves so he can get a better look at it.  He is shocked when he realizes just how long his hair is again.

He looks around, eager to ask what happened, yet seeing no one.  His heart races as he forces himself to stand, tripping over his own feet and collapsing to the ground.  He groans again, pushing himself to his feet, attempting to balance himself with his wings yet being thrown off due to unforeseen weight.

He flexes his wings, eyes widening at the sight of two new sets of wings adorning his back.  Just how much happened?

“Angel!” Heizou’s voice says while Scaramouche is helped back to his bed.  The human stares at him, clearly happy.  “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Where’s Kazuha?” Scaramouche asks, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Heizou smiles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.  “He got to talking with your mother…pretty sure they’re civil.  I’ve been sticking with you though.”

“What happened?”

“A lot,” Heizou mutters, putting a strand of Scaramouche’s hair behind his ear.  Scaramouche nuzzles into Heizou’s hand, staring the human down.  “I showed up too late…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

 “I shouldn’t have left you two.”

“I wanted you away from it all.”

“But-“ Heizou is cut off by Scaramouche tugging him forward, pulling him into a kiss.  The human just melts, putty in his angel’s hands.  “Scara-“ the angel cuts him off again, refusing to let him get a word in.  Heizou pushes away regretfully, staring intently at Scaramouche.  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Scaramouche smiles, chuckling to himself.  “I don’t know about that.”

“Your mom said it might take a while before you don’t feel pain.  Ascension wreaks havoc on the body.”

Scaramouche raises a brow, muttering to himself, “ascens-“

The door is slammed open, Kazuha bursting through with a smile on his face.  He rushes forward, collapsing onto Scaramouche in a way that makes the angel hiss out in pain.  The other human presses soft kisses all along Scaramouche’s face, careful not to actually kiss him until the final one.  “You’re okay…”

And Scaramouche, for what it’s worth, does not want to contradict Kazuha’s words.  So he just nods, smiling at the human.  “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay.”

Kazuha’s face is bright, lighting the way for Scaramouche’s fuzzy thoughts to turn clear.  The specifics of the circumstances that lead him to this scenario are coming back, gradually, but he does not truly care.  He is willing to simply stay here, with his loved ones as his world clicks into place.

Kazuha moves backwards, looking troubled.  “They want to talk to you.”

“What if I don’t want to talk to them.”

“Scara…” Kazuha trails off.  “I don’t think that’s an option.  They’re waiting…they’ve been waiting.”

“I’m not going out there like this,” Scaramouche says, gesturing to his hair. His hand shakes as he picks some of it up, hating just how long it became due to a singular action on his part.  “I can’t.”

Heizou nods, digging in his pocket before pulling out a small switchblade.  “It won’t look nice, but if it’s what you want-“

Scaramouche grabs his arm, sending Heizou a pleading look.  And Heizou, to his credit, does not hesitate.  He starts sawing away at the hair, the cut portions looking jagged.  But as each piece falls, Scaramouche seems to glow brighter.  As the final strands join their brethren, Scaramouche looks ecstatic, running his hand through his once again short hair.

But the moment is fleeting, his happy expression souring almost immediately.

“Let’s get it over with and go home,” Scaramouche says stubbornly.  He tries to stand, but fails miserably, falling back onto the bed.  He flushes, feeling utterly embarrassed.  “Can one of you…”

Heizou is already on it, rushing to sling the angel’s arm around his shoulder and helping Scaramouche to his feet.  “Kazuha, lead the way please.”

Kazuha nods, carefully walking the halls that Scaramouche recognizes with dismay.  He could have led Heizou to the courtroom.  He knows the way.  But he cannot stand thinking about it too much.  When double doors are opened he blinded, white light refusing to halt its continuous assault on his very being.

He cannot look at them.

“Welcome back, Kunikuzushi.”

He looks to the side, seeing the rest of his former society looking at him as if he were an animal performing for the crowd.  They stare in amazement at the simple fact that he is able to stand there before them.  

“I have nothing to say to you all.”

“Scaramouche-“ his mother cuts in hastily.

“Let him speak Beelzebul.”

“You cast me out and expect me to be happy to be back here?  You directly caused a borderline apocalyptic event due to your inability to understand that our differences are not to be ashamed of?”  Scaramouche is able to step forward, without Heizou, yet still unable to look at the Divine. 

“We understand your anger.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting there.  You would face me directly.”

“We wish to offer you a spot back.  Our prior actions cannot be forgiven, yet we would appreciate the chance to redeem ourselves.”

Scaramouche laughs, stumbling as he loses balance but regaining it quickly.  And for the first time, he looks up, staring directly at the Divine.

And, even with the light burning his eyes as he stares up at the individuals he used to hold in such high regard, he does not look past them.  For the first time, he sees them for what they are; lonely beyond belief.  While he has been able to heal after the issues that brought him pain, Celestia continues to destroy itself in record time.  They hope that the power they hold will continue to be the same, but they can’t see that their power is fleeting.

When given the chance to stay in the heavenly realm, Scaramouche cannot help but realize his feelings toward such a proposition have changed.  While a while ago he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to go back, he realizes that now he doesn’t care as much.  

He didn’t enjoy being in the heavenly realm anyways.

Scaramouche turns toward Kazuha and Heizou, smiling at them before turning back toward the divine.  He shakes his head, causing a few surrounding angels to gape at his refusal.  “Thank you, but I really just want to go home.”

And the divine, for all their inabilities to care for the human realm, seem to understand.  Because, in this entire conversation, Scaramouche hasn’t had his wings out on display at all.

Scaramouche proceeds to turn around, offering his hand out to the two most important people in his world.  “Let’s go home, okay?”

And who are Heizou and Kazuha to deny him that simple request?

●•·•●

Birds chirp as the world continues on.  Scaramouche stands on a familiar cliffside, staring into the great abyss.  He knows of one other pair of eyes that have shared this experience.  Another pair that took in the world and contemplated on what they saw.  His fingers twitch, gripping onto a bouquet of flowers before he kneels down toward a stone standing upright.

He places the flowers down quietly, replacing a withering one with one that is new.  The world goes quiet, allowing him to revel and contain himself.  Scaramouche stands, nodding toward the stone, not even daring to read it.

For if he did, he would see:

‘Barnabas’

18<<

masterlist

[gwagwagwagoogoo]

3 questions regarding your Beastars Witch from Mercury AU. Firstly, is there an underground meat industry that differs from vanilla Beastars in your AU? If so, to what extent? Secondly, does Miorine struggle with controlling the carnivore side of her animal instincts at any point in the AU, if so does that become a plot point in some way? Thirdly, where are Suletta's favorite places to get head scratches, if applicable.

EXCELLENT QUESTIONS TYSM!!!! lets break each one down!!

1. Is there an underground meat industry that differs from vanilla Beastars in your AU? If so, to what extent?

The black market still is alive and well, it's one of the things that animals are restless about. Not just exclusive to herbivores, but anything the Black Market considers valuable or 'exotic' is likely to get trafficked into it A few differences is that more insane shit happens in the Black Market, along the lines of trying to do genetic works. Like most of Peil's enchanted dog species were funded by Black Market hijinks, same with the Jeturks.

It's just an unethical hell hole, tbh, similar to the Beastars vanilla verse but with an addition of some Gwitch stuff. Ochs Earth Inc.'s very, very illegal items are still getting passed around in trade, though quietly. As well as getting modified and enchanced and just made even crazier than before. It's how Norea and Sophie eventually their mitts on some crazy shit that removes your instincits and makes them crazy strong and what not (my crude reflection of permet)

2. Does Miorine struggle with controlling the carnivore side of her animal instincts at any point in the AU, if so does that become a plot point in some way?

Oh yes. Oh yeyseysyesyese HEHE. She does! It is always in the back of her mind, or subtle. Usually, her carnivore instincits spawn from predator compeititon. Feeling threated by other carnivores and needing to reestablish her presence, but she's also gotten a bit out of control around herbivores or meat before. She's able to reel herself a bit easily from her instincits bc they're a confusing, clusterfuck of contradiction. But there are two points in the AU where she loses control with them.

Now, this is my own self-indulgent thing. I wanted Miorine to come protect Suletta from El5n and god so be it. 'oh but-' this is MY au and I say Miorine should MAUL someone!!

First point!:

The scenes are swapped around in order to make things a bit more cohesive. Guel approaches Suletta first, tells his feelings to her and his plans basically. Suletta rejects him, politely, as always. Miorine feels a hint of reflex, to burst forth and snarl at Guel. Get him away. Another part of her desperately wanted to cower. But she refrains.

Miorine's still listening, not wanting to interupt Guel and this talk. Letting herself rumunate in her feelings, even after Guel leaves. Though whilst she's stuck in her head, she realizes another animal is approaching. Elan Ceres. At first, Miorine listens but as the altercation continues. She loses control of herself.

Mio gets to be a little wild... as a treat.... She keeps to her word, protecting Suletta while also establishing herself as the better carnivore. Miorine is unsure if she reacted so strongly because Suletta was distressed, or if Suletta being there restrained her from mauling him with her teeth. El5n scampers off

Regardless, those conflicting feelings spiral in. Suletta is concerned for Miorine- of course apprecative! But she's worried, because she's never really seen Miorine act like that. She isn't scared, nor really mad- she's just worried how Miorine will feel about it. And given the circumstance, what Miorine is planning to do, she feels awful.

Still, the show must go on. Suletta realizes the burdens Miorine carries, and wants nothing more than for her to rely on her further, let them rely on eachother. Miorine only wants one thing for Suletta... for her to be happy. With, or without her. No matter what.

Second Point!:

So instead of being holder, what's happening is that it's a race to see who will be potenital 'Young Beastar' at the end of the day, and eventually transition into 'Sublime Beastar'. Miorine still makes GUND, to protect Suletta, but it's more than that. She also proposes herself as another potential Young Beastar, claiming that she is the bridge between Carnivore and Herbivores. That claiming her as a Beastars would show that she is able to unite those two fronts completely.

So Miorine becomes President of her mini company as well offically a potenital Young Beastar next to Suletta. And you know how that goes LOL. But I'll explain the Sulemio divorce into another ask!! This is about Miorine's instincits

Miorine tries to ease the unrest that is conjured just by the conditons of the world, using herself as a way to show that there can be peace and compromise. Show that the technology her company wishes to promote can and will aid every beast.

So the massacre on Earth is changed to be, well, Miorine framed for a mass predation incident. To defame her and try to kick her out of the Beastars race completely. THANKS PROSPERA <3 Yeah so Prospera basically tries to pin a whole massacre of herbivores and such onto Miorine, and Miorine got caught in the wrong time and wrong place after a conferedence with some big civil figures. And it made her carnivore instincits go into full over drive, trying to contain the urge to feast on the herbivores surronding her because there is so much herbivore blood- but also utterly terrified. She at one point, had crouched over a corpse, trying to fight back the urge to eat it- while the herbivore part of her was absolutely horrified by the whole situation and eventually got her to step away. Eventually she is found by her guards, and ushered from the scene. but the damage was already done.

Miorine feels at fault, for all of those deaths, and for her behavior especially. Utterly disgusted, horrified and terrified of what's to come.

3. Where are Suletta's favorite places to get head scratches, if applicable?

Here are all of Suletta's hot spots:

Forehead and snout, Behind her ear, Top of her head, Cheeks, Belly and underneath her chin

(For maximum effectiveness, please ask Miorine to distrubite the head scratches)

[mermaidsirennikita]

I realise this is subjective but what's the straight-up most batshit (derogatory or complimentary) thing you've ever read in a book? This doesn't even have to be a rec list, i'm just curious about the Things You've Seen

Good question!

Morning Glory Milking Farm seems so normal now, but when that premise came out it was so crazy. I mean, tbh, the book is actually a pretty normal cozy romance in a lot of ways, just with a really wacky framing (which has kind of become C.M. Nascosta's signature). I'm kinda meh on it, but not because of the premise. Run, Run Rabbit is my Nascosta of Choice.

I began reading Immortals After Dark because I heard of Lothaire's premise, tbh. "3,000 year old vampire (who has been a Big Bad in the other books) finds out hillbilly coed is his fated mate, is like 'oh God, that is SO embarrassing, I can't' and convinces himself that his actual fated mate is the demonic goddess possessing said coed's body, so he puts the coed on DEATH ROW for safekeeping, and five years later shows up to slaughter everyone in prison, rescue the heroine from the lethal injection, and go 'WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME YOU IDIOT???'"

It was the death row element that got me reading. And that's over with in like, the first two chapters. And then it gets CRAZIER. God, I love that book.

The Thornchapel series by Sierra Simone was SUCH a big swing, even by her standards. Six friends try to figure out the creeping, looming darkness in an ancient chapel...? While following ancient sacrificial rites and hooking up with each other? There are two romances (MMF and FF)? How does she juggle all that?

The answer: really, really well. I love that series. Perfect Gothic vibes.

I mean. The Earl Takes All by Lorraine Heath. Gorilla Twins. And she pulled it off to perfection.

The All the King's Men duology by Kennedy Ryan does not seem that bonkers in theory (long-term back and forth between a billionaire oil guy's rebellious son and a Navajo environmental activist-turned-political-operative) but the books are actually iNSANE lol. He's lost in ANTARCTICA at one point????? She's kidnapped by masked men??? There are hostage videos??? Honestly, this duology is kind of like... Scandal vibes, if Scandal hadn't gone completely off the rails. It really may have been Kennedy Ryan watching Scandal and going "... I could do that better". And boy does she.

The Wolf and The Wildflower by Stacy Reid has a gloriously insane premise. The hero is a duke (the Duke of Wolverton or something too??) who was stranded in the Yukon for years and basically became a part of a wolf pack and developed incredibly wolfy habits... So his family hires a father/son pair of psychiatrists to help him adapt back to society... And then he smells the "son" and realizes he's actually a woman in disguise (genuinely, this isn't a gross transphobic plot, the heroine fully identifies as a woman and just disguises herself as a man for Romance Reasons) and detects her WOMANLY SCENT. It. Is. Insane.

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez. Lady billionaire offers to financially bail out a small principality on the condition that the heir (who has a genius-level IQ) a) marries her for a year b) gets her pregnant so that she can have a hot, smart royal baby.

Speaking of baby stuff, Nobody's Baby But Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips!!!! The heroine is a genius college professor who graduated from college or got her phD at fourteen or something insane, and she's really socially inept because she never had a normal childhood, so she wants a baby of AVERAGE INTELLIGENCE. Which, despite being a genius, she thinks means having a baby with a dumbass to balance out her intelligence. And she identifies an aging quarterback as a dumbass, so she literally like, seduces him into getting her pregnant. And then he finds up and shows up in her classroom, leaning against the door entryway and going "CLASS IS OVER" lol. God I loved it.

Kiss an Angel by SEP is also insane. Begins with a contemporary forced marriage, then the heroine finds out her new husband (who hates her) is taking her on the road working at a traveling circus??? Where she develops like, a psychic bond with a tiger. His circus trick is the whip trick where he cracks the whip to zap off a flower she's wearing or something.

And he's descended from the Romanovs