#you want your son to be you. you are already you. you hate you. there cannot be two of you.

[varpusvaras]

My favorite fic trope is the "JLA meets the batfam because they arrested Jason as he was undercover and now the family is coming to pick him up" one, but imagine. Jason gets arrested by the JLA while undercover, and is brought in for questioning, but before any of the batfam members even notice that he is gone, Green Arrow walks into the interrogation room.

"It's okay, Superman, you can let him go."

"Green Arrow, Red Hood is a wanted criminal on the JLA:s most wanted list-"

"What? No, no he isn't, that's just Jason."

Superman stares. Jason stares too.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, that's just Jason, my son-in-law. You can let him go."

"...your son-in-law is the Red Hood?"

"No? Jason's not the Red Hood, he is just dressed as the Red Hood. He's in an mercenary group with my son, he does that. It's pretty easy to dress up as someone who doesn't show their face for a job. Jason's no Red Hood, let me tell you that. Or I guess I don't have to tell you that, since you've already arrested him."

Jason's not really sure if he wants to murder Oliver or not.

Superman stares. Oliver raises a brow.

"So? Can I have him back, please, we have a family dinner today and we're already a bit late."

"...sure."

Jason gets let out. Oliver throws an arm around his shoulders as they walk towards the zeta tubes.

"I hate you, Queen."

"You're welcome, kiddo."

JLA does leave Jason alone after that, though, because every time they see him outside of Gotham, they just go "oh that's just Jason dressed up as the Red Hood again, move on" and Jason doesn't know if he should be annoyed or not. It does make his work easier, but at the same time, it somehow feels like an insult.

[infoglitch]

Just a man.

(look, I've been listening to epic: the musical and I can't stop thinking about adult jaune seeing a baby cinder and struggling on whether he should kill her or not. So you all have to suffer now.)

Jaune didn't know how, nor did he care. As he found himself in a room in front of a baby's crib as he saw her. A sleeping baby with burning amber eyes staring at him. The eyes Jaune grew to know, and despise.

He unsheathed crocea mors as he raised it above his head. Blade pointing down, ready to be blunged and end it.

Jaune took a deep breath as after a minute he dropped his sword as it hit the wooden floor. Jaune fell to his knees as he looked at the child. He knew what she would become but-

Jaune: I can't hurt you.. but I want to so badly..

Jaune looked at the baby as he carefully reached in, the infant grasping his finger as she giggled. Jaune almost smiled at the sound as he thought back to a brighter memory.

Jaune laid in bed as he held Ruby close with the red reaper clutching their 5 year old son.

Jaune: he's so.. peaceful, just years ago he was crying his head off.

Ruby: well it's not like a lot can't happen between being 9 months old to 5 years.. makes you remember how much time there is in life.

Jaune: yeah..

Jaune brought a hand towards their son as he combed it through his hair. It was pitch black, with red peppering it.

The young boy stirred slightly as he shoved his head in closer. With Jaune having a warm smile.

Jaune: he's going to be a great man.. I can already tell.

Ruby: well, his parents are two huntsmen sooo..

Jaune: id more say his parents are a novice huntsman and exceptional huntress but.. sure thing rubes.

Jaune stared at the infant before carefully picking her up and cradling her.

Jaune: I should.. I should hate you with every fiber of my being, every ounce of my soul.. but you.. I can't.. I know why I should.. you grow up into.. her. But you're just a girl, an innocent child.. you almost look like..

Jaune pressed against the wall before sliding down onto the floor, sitting. He crossed his legs and began stroking the infant's head.

Jaune couldn't tell if he was holding the woman whose neck he wanted to wrap his hands around and watch the light leave her eye.. or a daughter.

Jaune released a hick as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He released another hick before he began to sob.

Jaune: dear oum.. dear oum how could I hurt a daughter?..

The ending doesn't have to be set in stone, right?

@spahhzy @epic-arc get your asses over here, this war ain't over yet.

[dullgecko]

I love a trans Riz moment and one of my headcanons is that goblin names are gendered by the number of syllables (Pok, Sprak, Riz all being one syllable, Sklonda being two).

And we all know that middle school Riz was Going Through It in terms of bullying so he was almost certainly also misgendered constantly by the other kids.

I think that’s part of why Sklonda is so against the other Bad Kids using nicknames for Riz because The Ball is two syllables and they’re accidentally misgendering Riz (according to goblin grammar) and she has had enough of other kids misgendering her son because they think it’s funny.

It’s also why Riz hates the multi-syllable nicknames like Rizbert and Rizwalda and keeps insisting it’s “just Riz”. But equally he also doesn’t want to come out. He’s sure it would be fine, but he doesn’t want to risk it just in case things go wrong. So he doesn’t know how to explain it so he doesn’t say anything, but it definitely hurts every time they do it.

(I think at some point he does deserve to snap at them though, as a treat).

(I’ve been trying to write a fic about this for ages but the words aren’t wording right, so I offer it up as a humble headcanon to be rotated in other peoples brains)

Goblin biology is different from humans or elves or even half-orcs. They're goblinoid not humanoid after all, their anatomy was different and their ancestors could be traced all the way back to the fae realms in eons past. Like with most creatures of the fae realms their relationship between their biological sex and gender is fairly loose, or more realistically practically non-existant. Hells, if you want to be a different biological sex the switch is incredibly quick and easy. Just go and talk to one of your hordes elders and with magic you'd be done within half and hour. Simple.

Riz grew up in Elmville though and Solesians tended to be weird about the whole thing. Sex and gender seemed to be intrinsically linked for some reason and, in order to naturalise better, goblins tended to stick with the gender that most-accurately reflected what was expected of their current biology.

Riz was six years old when he told his dad he didn't want to be a girl and that was that. A quick jaunt up to his families ancestral home, dinner and a minor name change and he was back in Elmville ready for school on Monday. It should have been as easy as that but even after explaining that he was a boy now the kids at his school just didn't seem to understand. They constantly kept calling him by his old name, some of the Helio kids even going so far as to corner him and preach at him about how what he'd done was evil. The bullying lasted for years and followed him all the way through middle school, only adding more ammunition to what he was already dealing with just by being a goblin in the first place.

He thought he'd managed to leave he worst of the bullying in the past when he finally made it to high-school. None of the kids who knew him in middle-school had come to Aguefort so no-one knew that he was a girl before. Just to make double sure though he made sure to dress the part. No one would call someone in a suit a girl, it was the most masculine outfit he could think of after all.

Honestly it was going better than expected. He did wince initially at the whole The Ball nickname but that was fine. His friends didn't know the multiple sylables were a thing in goblin, though his mom still drew her lips into a think line and glared whenever she heard Fabian call him that. They didn't even call him that in a teasing way anymore, it was more of a title so he felt like it didn't have the same kind of connotation.

At the moment though they were teasing him a little bit. It was all good-natured, someone having commented that the nickname Fabian still used for him was weird and they should really think of another one. They'd rotated through quite a few humerous titles but had somehow strayed dangerously into nicknames playing off his own name which he protested.

"Oh! What about Rizbert? Or Rizmothy." Fig waved her spoon towards the goblin, swallowing around mouth full of icecream even as Riz winced.

"Guys no. Just Riz is fine. Or The Ball. I dont mind The Ball. Plus you keep making my name longer aren't nicknames supposed to be short?" He clutched at the glass of his milkshake, claws tapping at the glass as he tried to get them to change the subject.

"Yeah but you cant go shorter than Riz so we need to think of something else." Kristen nudged her shoulder against their rogue, the height difference meaning she just bumpd him directly in the head which made him make a quiet 'ow' and rub his temple where she'd clocked him.

"What about Rizzy?"

"Guys seriously I don't-"

"Rizriz?"

"Please stop."

"Rizbian, no thats too close to Fabian."

"Kristen honestly I don't like-"

"Rizgug! No wait same issue as the Rizbian one. OH how about Rizik."

The goblins eyes narrowed down to thin slits as the last name was said, Riz baring his teeth and slamming his glass into the table with a loud bang that made his party members jump.

"It's just Riz." He spat, venom lacing the short sentence as he pulled his ears back and down. Kristen holding her hands up in front of her in a defensive posture even as the goblin grabbed his breifcase off the seat beside him and slid down under the table.

Riz duck between his party members legs, not able to hear them calling after him over the sudden roaring sound of his own blood in his ears, and stalking out of the diner without another word. Milkshake dripping onto the spot where he'd just been sitting because the glass had cracked when he slammed it down with too much force.

They'd tried to follow after him but it was basically impossible after he left their line of sight, the rogue was incredibly adept at not being seen when he didn't want to be and he really didn't want to be right now.

He managed to drive his party into a mild panic after only a few hours, the goblin marking himself as offline in their group chat and declining their calls after a few rings (including Fabians, which did not bode well considering how pissed off he'd been when he had stalked out). Adaine had even tried to skry on him, but his wisdom was high enough that he easily slapped down her attempt and sent her a single text message consisting of the word 'no' before turning his crystal off completely.

They'd ended up splitting up to search for him across the city, heading for any spots he might go and promising to fill eachother in if they spoted him. Fabian had been circling the town on the Hangman for a while by this point, squinting down alleyways as he passed just in case he could spot their sneaky party member down one of them.

He'd passed the Strongtower Appartments at least twice before he thought to check there as well. Sure, it was a far too obvious a spot but maybe The Ball HAD just gone home.

Fabian hopped off The Hangman outside the front of the apartments, patting its seat and telling it to continue circling and searching without him as he stepped inside. He knew where Riz's appartment was, hells he even had a key these days, so he head there directly and let himself in.

He probably should have knocked before just barging in though, given that there was a rather pissed off goblin woman currently sitting at the dining room table glaring daggers at him. "Ah. Apologies. I did not expect you to be home. Have you purchance seen The Ball recently?" He had paused, half-inside the apartment with his hand on the doornob and very nearly backed all the way out again when she somehow managed to look more annoyed when he spoke.

"I'm not going to confirm or deny if I've seen Riz recently." She put heavy emphasis on his name, ears flicking as she interwove her fingers on the table in front of her. "But, if you have come to apologise I may see fit to pass it along when I do see him."

"Pardon?" Fabians look of genuine confusion made Sklondas demeanour shift, ears flicking into a more curious position rather than the angry one they'd been settled in before.

"You're not here to apologise for deadnaming him?"

"Sorry I'm not following? We were having lunch and he got pissed off and stormed out. We were looking for him because well.... we were worried and he switched his crystal off." Fabian entered the apartment completely, letting the door swing shut behind him with a click as he stood awkwardly in the entrance area.

"You called him Rizik."

"Kristen called him Rizik." Fabian corrected her, noteing that the normally open door to Riz's bedroom was shut. "Fig mentioned that you didn't seem to like when we called him The Ball and was trying to find a new nickname. I recall that may have been among them."

Sklonda rubbed her hands over her face, heaving a sigh before tipping her head back to look towards the ceiling as if asking a higher power for help. "Don't use that name again. Didn't you know it would upset him?" "No?"

The goblin woman gave him a confused look, pushing back her chair and heading over to Riz's room to knock on the door. Cracking it open slightly and chattering at the person hidden inside in goblin before shutting it again.

"Goddamnit kid. How are they supposed to know if you don't tell them." She donked her forehead against the closed door before turning back to face the fighter.

"Look he's fine and home. Tell the others that but he doesn't want to see anyone at the moment. I think he's mostly feeling silly about getting so pissed at you all and storming off because you couldn't have known it would upset him." She pointed a finger at Fabian before waving for him to sit down at the table. The half-elf pulling out a chair and sitting down obediantly when directed to.

"The kids at his last school used to call him Rizik all the time and thats because it was his name. He shortened it when he told us he was a boy and I'm only telling you this because he said i could. Don't tell the others."

Fabians eye went a bit unfocused as he tried to process what he was being told, eyebrows shooting high on his forehead when he finally put it together. "TOLD you he was a boy.... So he wasn't before... Ah. Deadname. Understood. I'll.... inform the others that that particular nickname is completely off the table."

[perseephoneee]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

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a/n: the penultimate chapter, everyone. I can't believe we've made it so far. i hope this story kinda works...it was my first time doing longform and one day i will rewrite all of this to make more sense, but for now its as it is. I love you all.

Loki knew it was improper of him to have met you without a chaperone-like that, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted, no need, to see you. Damn the consequences. Still, guilt gnawed at him. You were innocent in these games, merely appeasing a figure bigger than yourself. He could relate to that.

On Sundays, he had breakfast with his mother. Thor was usually in meetings with the Allfather, but Loki was never truly wanted there and preferred to spend time with the lady of the house anyway. Their usual tea and assortment of pastries didn’t improve wasn't his mood, though, and he still felt contemplative. Frigga noticed.

"My son, what is wrong?" She questioned, putting her teacup down. She always drank jasmine, a delicacy they got from Odin's dealings with China. She preferred the lighter floral flavor to the Queen's English breakfast tea.

"Nothing is wrong, Mother," Loki lied, the words rolling off his tongue with ease. He was always good with lies. Unfortunately, his mother was even better at seeing through them.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Chilton girl, would it? The one your brother didn't marry?" Frigga delicately grabbed a scone as if she were discussing the weather. She was trained to gather information without making it seem like she was. Another thing Loki learned from her. 

"The mamas of the ton gathered for tea the other day, and her Grandmother was discussing it," Frigga continued on. "Dreadful woman, truly, I don't envy those two girls."

Loki hid a laugh behind his hand, coughing instead and taking another sip of tea. 

"She was very loudly complaining about her youngest granddaughter's willful spirit and how it would give her a heart attack one of these days," Frigga chuckled. Loki got the sense she remembered the many times he and Thor had given her a scare.

"Some of the other mamas made comments about how you and she seemed to spend more time together than she and Thor," Frigga spooned some sugar into her tea. "So, my son, I will ask you again if anything is wrong."

Loki took a pause at that, holding his tongue. He drummed his fingers on the table. 

"I won't answer things you already know."

"Did something happen?" His mother raised a brow, a challenge in her gaze. His stubbornness was less from his father and more from his mother. She could will any man into submission.

"Nothing happened, mama," Loki sighed. Not a lie. Nothing happened. Although he wanted it to happen. He wanted to press his lips to yours, breathe in your scent, hold you so you could never fall away from him. Instead, he let go. He wouldn't be the stain on your life that he is on his fathers. 

Frigga pursed her lips, observing him. She set down her tea cup and rested her hands on the table, something she only did when she was about to say something of importance. Loki braced himself for a lecture. 

"Your brother is not a jealous man, and your father is a hard one to please," Frigga stated. "The only thing in the way of your happiness is yourself. I did not raise a fool." With that, Frigga excused herself from tea, leaving her son alone at the table. The only sound left in the room was the clicking of the grandfather clock, the minute hand matching the pace of his thoughts. 

Loki liked you. He might even love you. That was the only logical explanation for his delusions. He rubbed his eyes, hating the tension building up behind them as he thought of the chaos he had caused by even getting involved in the life of you. 

"Mother said I might find you here," Thor said from the doorway, walking over to the now vacant seat. Loki glanced up as Thor poured himself some tea. Or attempted to. He spilled some creamer and burned his fingers, picking up the cup from the body, not the handle. 

"You need to wait for it to cool," Loki sighed, wiping up the spilled creamer. It's appalling to Loki that his oaf of a brother is the one expected to take over the Odinson household. 

"I don't often drink tea."

"Clearly."

"But that's not why I'm here, brother," Thor ignores his jab, gingerly sipping his tea and visibly relaxing when it doesn't burn his tongue. 

"Oh joy," Loki leaves the table, strolling towards one of the setees. He, of course, does this quite dramatically. 

"I always thought you be clever, but I am shocked to find you acting so idiotic," Thor puts his tea down, standing up and heading Loki's way. 

"How dare you–"

"Lady Y/N is obviously enamored with you, and you with her. I don't understand why you aren't doing anything about it," Thor sighs. "Is it your own stubbornness? A sense of pride? Please explain it to me."

"I am not enamored with her, and it is not stubbornness," Loki hisses. "She can do better than me, a second son, anyway."

"Is that what you truly believe? That you are really just a second son?"

Loki doesn't respond to that. He just stares out of the window overlooking the room. His mother was inspired by Greek architecture and, therefore, put arched pillars as separators for the open windows. They overlooked the veranda, which was starting to transition into autumn. Oh, how time has passed. 

"I will be leaving for France in the coming months."

Loki turned to his brother, hiding a shock that otherwise would have covered his face. 

"Leaving? For what?"

"For war," Thor said. "Napolean is out of exile, and his troops are approaching Waterloo. I intend to be there alongside my brothers."

"You must be mad."

"Perhaps," Thor laughed. "But I have always wanted to fight, not to sit behind a desk and manage the affairs of a household. You have always been a better diplomat. I much prefer being a soldier." His brother took a seat on the settee, running a hand through his hair and waiting for Loki to sit down. "Allfather will be declaring you the heir as soon as you are wed. So, no, Loki, you are not the second son. You are the better one."

"I don't deserve you," Loki frowned, finally sitting down next to Thor. "You are a better brother than I could ever be."

"Life has not always been kind to you; that is alright; you are learning," Thor said, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, demanding his attention. "You deserve peace, and you are allowed to have it."

It is not often that Loki becomes emotional. He is used to putting aside his own wants for the needs of the crown. He is used to enduring verbal backlash from his father over every little thing. He is used to being ignored when his brother enters a room. So often, he felt like a tablepiece in his own home. But truly, he was an idiot. His brother saw him the whole time. 

Without another word, Loki embraced his brother, shocking them both. He was done being a tablepiece. He wanted to be seen. 

~

"Letter!" Ivy screamed from the bottom of the stairs, immediately being shushed by one of the housekeepers. Immediately after your rendezvous with Loki, you had told Ivy everything. All of your fears, wants, and concerns. You had actively been courted by Thor; you couldn't pursue Loki. But he put you in a compromising position that could have gotten you in trouble in society. Did you like Loki? Or did you convince yourself you did? These were the questions swirling around your brain all week. Ivy was in favor of you running off and eloping if only to annoy Grandmother. You hit her with a pillow for that statement. 

"Why would I be receiving a letter?" You ask, descending the stairs as you glared at the offending item. 

"No clue, but I think you should look at it," Ivy said coyly. You got the distinct impression she knew exactly what this letter was about. You took it out of her grasp, peeling off the wax seal and reading the inked words. 

Meet me at the ball by midnight tonight when we first conversed. 

Loki

"So?" Ivy peered over your shoulder. "What did he say?"

"Poetic things," you drawled. "He has such a way with words."

"You're lucky the man likes your sharp tongue; otherwise, you'd scare off all the suitors," Ivy sighed. You suppressed a small smile. "So? Are you going?"

"Did you write this?" You ask her, turning around and crossing your arms. 

"Of course I didn't!"

"Really?"

"I am not one to lie, sister," Ivy grabbed your hands, pulling you closer. "I am only the messenger. A messenger that is urging you to listen for once in your life." You only glared at your sister. 

"I have nothing to wear."

"I already bought you a dress."

"You've been planning this, haven't you?"

"Perhaps," Ivy shrugged. "Now, c'mon! I want enough time to transform you."

You indeed didn't have a choice. Ivy was persistent when she set her mind to something. She yanked your hair left and right to transform it into a perfectly curled and pinned high bun. The dress she chose was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you had no clue where she could've possibly afforded something like it. It was a deep green with a traditional empire waist, but the bodice was covered in a lacy emerald green fabric and decorated with a glimmery trim. The skirt faded to a lighter emerald green at the bottom, giving the appearance of a forest being lit up by the sunrise. You wore your mother's necklace to match, something that grounded the outfit into something wholesome yet romantic. 

"You look ethereal," Ivy looked at you in the vanity mirror. "You look like Mom."

You smiled, turning around to envelop your sister in a hug. "I love you, Ivy." She just squeezed you tighter. "I never want to go to another ball again; this is ridiculously tiresome." Ivy laughed at that and let you go, smoothing down the parts of your dress that got scrunched up. 

This event took place outside, a last-ditch effort to enjoy the weather before winter set in. The ball was set on the lake, with a variety of lanterns floating through the waters and hanging around the pavilion where guests danced. It looked like a twinkling city, and it was one of the few times when your breath was taken away. 

You were already getting more stares than usual from other people, perhaps because it was the first time you dressed up. Or perhaps because everyone knew that Thor didn't propose to you. You ignored their stares and found the first drink you could. It was a long way till midnight, and your nerves were already getting the better of you. You hiked up your skirts and found your way to the water's edge, where workers were helping guests set out lanterns of their own. You asked one of them if the lights were just for decoration or if there was a specific meaning. 

"To drive out the darkness of winter and hope for a longer spring, m'lady," he bowed, offering you a lantern of your own. You accepted graciously, finding a quiet place farther down the shore to push your lantern out. 

"Making a wish?" a familiar voice said. You turned to see Loki, arms crossed and looking every bit the prince he was meant to be. 

"Driving away the darkness, at least that's what they told me," you gestured towards where most of the partygoers were. 

"I believe in some traditions; it is also to honor the dead."

"What a somber occasion for a party."

"I surmise they didn't truly know the reason; they thought it would be pretty." Loki shrugged, earning a chuckle from you. You closed up again, remembering that awkward encounter all those nights ago. Turning to your lantern, you looked at the water before returning to the prince. 

"We need more lanterns," you declared, marching back to the initial servant who gave you yours. Loki followed behind, not saying anything, but you could tell he wanted to ask. You got three more lanterns and passed two to Loki, returning to the spot you scoped out before. 

"Do I dare ask what you're doing?"

"Honoring the deceased," you crouched down, taking one of the lanterns from Loki so you had three. He joined you on the ground, letting you have a moment with your three lanterns. Taking a breath, you pushed them all out on the water. He waited for a second to let his drift away as well. 

"To your sister," you said, bowing your head slightly. 

"To your family, may they find brighter shores," Loki breathed, eyes softening as he looked at you. 

You both continued sitting on the shores, not making a move to get up. If anyone caught you in this position, it would be trouble, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. 

"We can't go back, can we?" you whispered, looking out at the lanterns getting farther and farther from shore.

"No, we can't."

"Then, why haven't you asked me?" your voice cracked slightly, your eyes finding Loki's. 

"Because I'm worried I don't deserve you."

"That isn't up to you to decide, is it?" you inquired, raising a brow. Loki's mouth tilted up in a smile as if trying his best to suppress it but failing miserably. 

"I should probably ask then."

"Most likely, before the fireworks start and I am unable to hear you stumble through your speech," you jested, sliding back into your old routine so easily. Loki sat up, offering you a hand, which you took gratefully as you smoothed out, your dress. 

"Such a sharp tongue on you; will that ever change?" Loki questioned. 

"Most likely not."

"Good," Loki grinned. "I wouldn't want anything else."

"You're stalling."

"I might be a wordsmith, but being vulnerable is not something I particularly enjoy," Loki responded. "But with you, I am forced to be vulnerable, and it rather terrifies me. Except, I keep coming back despite that fear because a day without you is a day without the sun." Loki let out a breath, brows furrowed. He looked so serious, and you thought you had never seen him so handsome. "Y/N…marry me."

"Yes," you responded, grinning. "Now, I think I am owed something."

"Yes, yes you are."

Loki wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, gentle yet strong in a way that had you yearning for more. The fireworks erupted in the background, the party cheering for the colorful display of lights and excitement. You yourself felt like a firework, quickly bursting into a million specks coating the sky. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @gruftiela @saay-karani @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea @lilaclaufeyson @gardasngan @evasmlp @swampespresso

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Demon in Disguise

Here it is @kittenfangirl20, hope you enjoy part 1

Adam sighed as he waited for Lilith to make her appearance in the embassy. Adam was summoned by a letter from the Queen herself requesting an audience with the first man himself. Though Sera, the woman he looked at as a mother as she looked at him as her son, warned him against this meeting. However, Adam's will be strong, and he wishes to know what the snake wants. It didn't help that tensions were rising what with the sinners starting to rise. Adam's knee slightly bounced from underneath the table as he crossed his arms over his chest. Though he'd never admit it to anyone other than himself it always sent a shiver down his side whenever it was only just the two of them. Suddenly the doors opened and in walked Lilith all with the grace of a queen, and the slithering motions of a serpent. Her amethyst pierced Adam's soul as they locked onto him.

Lilith: Ah Adam just the man, or first man, I've been meaning to see, how are you? Doing good? Heaven sure does seem to be treating you good.

Lilith stated while her gaze turned directly on Adam's chubby belly. Adam scowled already wanting this meeting to end.

Adam: Cut the crap and just say what you want Lilith

Lilith: Very well, I've come here for a proposal. I understand that Heaven is getting quite antsy as of late due to my people beginning to rise up. I also understand that they are looking for solutions, well I have one that will solve everything.

Adam: And that is?

Lilith: I remove myself from my title as queen, Hell's military, leave Hell, and be given a spot in Heaven.

Adam was silent for a moment until he laughed out loud even banging his fist against the table.

Adam: Ok, and what makes you think that anyone in their right mind would allow you to stay? Not to mention me ever giving you free range of upstairs.

Lilith: You are still close with Sera, correct? Then she can help forward this deal. I also have something that you want more than anything

Adam: And what might that be?

Lilith: Lucifer's child

Adam: ...what?

Lilith: I'm sure that your little...birth defect is still present even as an angel, yes?

Adam glared at her wording but slowly nodded. Not long after Adam's creation his creator, God helped shift his body so that he then had both parts of a man and a woman. Though he didn't know why he did it, he didn't hate his body in any way, despite Lilith doing her hardest to make him back in the garden.

Lilith: I'll collect Lucifer's seed and have it implanted in your womb then you'll finally have the precious baby that you always wanted with your dear guardian angel.

Adam: ...Lucifer is alright with all of, this? You leaving him and me being impregnated with his sperm?

Lilith: But of course, after all, he does want what's best for our subjects, not to mention that if there is less interaction in Heaven ten the less, he'll have to see you. Plus, with you not only in Heaven but also supported by

Adam didn't know what to say, on the one hand, he'd finally get his dream of being a mother. He loved all his children when they were on Earth and loved being their father even when...the incident occurred and afterward. However, ever since Eden, he wanted to be with Lucifer, his Luci, his sweet angel, and have a family with him. On the other hand, it hurt him to his core that this was the only way. But...the pros outweighed the cons and on the plus side not only would he get his dream, but he'd also finally be putting a stop to any uprising from the denizens of Hell since the fire was only filled with Lilith there leading the charge.

It seemed Lilith could tell what his decision was and smirked.

Adam: alright Lilith, I accept your deal.

[lyrisnightblood]

Dear "lovely" "canon Jiang Cheng Stans",

I see what you're doing here. I can see y'all talk about "book meta" and "writing Jiang Cheng as canonically accurate" and you know what?

Y'all are doing a fantastic job, keep it up 😍🎉

Yeah really! I mean it!

Y'all are doing a fantastic job showcasing just how utterly pathetic y'all are, how chronically online y'all are, and most importantly, y'all are doing a marvellous job showcasing your hate boner for a fictional character you claim to hate and is an "antagonist".

Keep up the lovely work y'all, show the world how you lack an ounce of reading comprehension, you booktok obsessed peeps!

And while you're at it, let me go spittin' facts, straight from the book.

Jiang Yanli is dead. End of the story. You can fantasize to your heart's content about how "she'll react to JC raising her son" and get your pants in a twist about all the bad things she'll supposedly say, but that's just it. You can only imagine it.

You know why?

Hmm idk cos she's fucking dead and no one knows what the dead wants?

This is exactly like "Don't do this your mother wouldn't have wanted this of you" "don't talk like you know my mother she's dead and i don't know what she wanted cos she's dead"

Well

I should've expected such callous behaviour from antis 🤷

Admit it, y'all wanted Wei Wuxian to raise Jin Ling huh? C'mon, don't be shy🥰 you can say that

Except your fave never could've raised Jin Ling cos 1) as if the Jin Sect would let their Sect heir be raised by the jianghu's most wanted person (Gasp, "wEi wUxIaN sLaNdEr" love check your books even wwx acknowledges that fact lolll) and 2) how tf could a dead man, no less a man who's soul got ripped into shards, take care of a baby?

"but Jin Guangyao was a better parental figure, and an actual parent"

Yeah, a parent who killed his own child cos he was worried about his reputation (I can already smell y'all coming at me to defend him like chill, I only said the truth, and yes, man was more worried about people knowing he married his sister and losing position than the life of his own son, just because he loved Rusong didn't change the fact that he was ready to go to the extreme). Not to mention how Jin Guangyao held a string to his own nephew's neck and threatened to kill him to save his skin while it was Jiang Cheng who begged him to let Jin Ling go

Betcha Jiang Yanli's ghost is watching the scene while sipping tea and praising Jin Guangyao huh

"but one of Jin Zixuan's cousin-"

Jin Zixun is dead. And is a truly despicable person. Or did you forget how he insulted Wei Wuxian left and right?

Oh wait. Of course you forgot, "criticizing" Jiang Cheng takes precedence! My bad, i should've known!

Let me stop y'all before you say "Jin Guangshan". You must be the utterly worst person in the planet to want a known womanizer and child abuser and rapist to raise a child. IDC Jin Guangshan is related to Jin Ling. Y'all just want a known abuser and sexual predator to raise Jin Ling just say you don't give two cents about the poor boy except when you want to hate on Jiang Cheng 🙄

"what about Jin Furen"

Yeah what about her? Or did you forget how she canonically had a role to play in Jin Ling's upbringing?

Who do you think is responsible for Jin Ling spending half a year in Lotus Pier? Certainly not Jin Guangyao!

If there was one person in the Jin Sect who could have enough sway to ensure that her own grandson is spending a significant amount of time in another sect, it's Jin Furen.

Three guesses why she did that?

Lol you actually thought I'd wait for your guess? LMFAOOOOO you're so cute 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

She did that because Jin Furen cared for A-Li and - wait for it - A-Cheng!!!

Reread the books if you missed it, mmkay?

She was fond of Yu Ziyuan, and by extension her children, and post-SSC, she offered to support both of them on multiple occasions (which they declined because any political support from Jin Sect would've come with strings attached cos JGS😑)

Establishing the fact that Jin Furen cared for Jiang Cheng, she had agreed to Jin Ling spending half his time in Lotus Pier because she sensed that he was all Jiang Cheng had left, and vice versa.

Y'all also have utterly forgotten about the cruel way Jin Ling's paternal cousins have bullied him for being an orphan. Like, Koi Tower is supposed to be his home, and he was bullied to the point where Lotus Pier became his sanctuary.

"AHA! GOTCHA! QIN SU SHOULD'VE RAISED HIM!"

Laughing My Fricking Ass Off TM

My man Qin Su was RIGHT THERE! No one was stopping her from raising Jin Ling! She could've been the maternal figure Jin Ling needed! And no one would have questioned it, it was actually expected for that timeline.

Except.... Did she? Did she do anything to make Jin Ling feel loved? Has Jin Ling ever talked about his aunt the same way he talks about his uncles? Apart from the respect that he gives to her as his paternal uncle's wife, does Jin Ling refer to her fondly? Even once?

"Alright, your point?"

Why thank you for asking 💗😌

My point is that Jiang Cheng is canonically the best guardian for Jin Ling, and this conclusion comes AFTER analysing every other candidate.

And you know what?

I am absolutely right🎉💗🌸😻

Evidence?

Exhibit A: Jiang Cheng accompanying Jin Ling's nighthunt to look out for him but also keeps himself at a distance so that Jin Ling actually participates in the nighthunt

Exhibit B: Letting Fairy enter Lotus Pier despite the strict dog ban (which he had adhered to even after wwx died)

Exhibit C: Jin Ling never once flinches or looks scared when Jiang Cheng shows his temper and says "I'll break your legs", he knows his jiujiu is all bark but would never hurt him

Exhibit D: "how dare you hit me? Even my jiujiu had never hit me!" - Jin Ling to Wei Wuxian (who btw oh so casually hits Jin Ling as if it's a normal thing to hit a child💀)

Exhibit E: "A-Ling! Who made you cry?" - Jiang Cheng when he saw a crying Jin Ling. No admonishment. No Judgement. And certainly no anger directed at Jin Ling.

Exhibit F: Jin Ling being unafraid to cry in front of his jiujiu, he knows he won't be judged.

Exhibit G: Jiang Cheng saving Jin Ling on multiple occasions.

Exhibit H: Jiang Cheng begging Jin Guangyao to take him hostage and release Jin Ling, without hesitation, despite his spiritual energy being locked and being stabbed in the chest.

I could go on and on and on but unlike you lovely people who have no hobby other than slandering Jiang Cheng, I have TONS.

And also a life.

So, go fantasize about your Jiang Cheng hate boner elsewhere. I see your pathetic attempt at taking over the Canon Jiang Cheng tag and it ain't working.

Ciao 🤟

[topazy]

Blood moon

Pairing: Scott McCall x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Chapter: 7.02

You step into the kitchen and drop the glass of orange juice from your hand as you jump backwards, startled by the figure leaning against the island in the middle of the room. So much for werewolf reflexes. Since the sleepover Wyatt was at got canceled, you had awkwardly suggested everyone regrouped at another location. As much as you cared for Lydia, you didn’t want your son near anything that was going on.

“Jesus McCall, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” You huff, looking down at the sticky liquid spreading fast across the floor. You grab a handful of kitchen rolls and dab at it before the juice runs onto your cream carpet in the next room.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Scott said. He sighed, noticing you were avoiding his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

Scott puffed out his cheeks, feeling defeated already. “I don’t usually ask when it comes to you and Isaac, but what’s going on? He left kind of abruptly.”

You re-enter the living room fidgeting with the silver band on your middle finger, the pad of your thumb feeling the small rubies on it. “Guys, I hate to do this, but Wyatt’s coming home, and I don’t want him around... whatever this is.”

Scott looks up at your alarm. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“He’s fine; his friend's mom just texted and said one of the kids started vomiting, so everyone’s gotta go.”

Isaac yanks his jacket from the back of the coat hanger. “I’ll go get him. Take him to the arcade or cinema.”

“He still needs to have his dinner.”

“Then I’ll take him for pizza first,” Isaac slams the front door behind him when he leaves the house.

You cock your head to the side, looking up at Scott, still irritated by your brother. “He’s just... he's got an issue with his girlfriend. Where did everyone else go?”

“The animal clinic.”

After all this time, no matter what changed throughout the years, Deaton’s vets was the safe place you and your friends gravitate towards whenever times are tough. A small smile creeps onto your face as you think about the times as teenagers when your pack would gather in the same place.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking how, after all this time, we still go to the same place for help.” You squeeze Scott’s shoulder. “Did I ever tell you I’m proud of you for becoming a vet?”

“Uhh, you have,” he chuckles. “But it means a lot coming from you, no matter how many times I hear it.”

“Are you staying here until Wyatt gets home?”

“Yeah,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll just let Stiles know I’ll catch up with them later.”

—

“Daddy!”

“Hey, little man.”

Smiling, Scott picks Wyatt up and kisses his cheek. “Where did Uncle Isaac take you?”

While your son fills his father in on all the fun games he played at the arcade, Isaac mumbles an apology as he walks by. He places a stuffed toy on the kitchen counter; it looks just like one I had as a girl. “I’m going to be out for the rest of the night,” he says. “I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but Stiles asked if someone who’s werewolf could spend the night in case he needs help with Lydia.”

“It’s probably for the best that someone is there for her. I think Scott was going to meet them at the vets.”

“Actually,” Scott walks over with Wyatt now sitting on his shoulders. “I was going to put this little monster to bed once he has showed me his new toys.”

Scott wasn’t outright asking, but from his tone, you knew it was a question. You smile, although he was a good dad. Scott never got to spend the same amount of time with your son as you did, which made him feel guilty. “Sure, but first he’s going for a bath.”

—

You yawn into the back of your hand, not wanting to interrupt Scott and Wyatt playing before bed. You curled up on the couch to watch a film. You’re starting to doze off when Scott comes back down the stairs and sits next to you, much to your surprise.

“Is he asleep already?”

“Yeah, probably a sugar crash.”

You reposition yourself on the couch so Scott has more space; the thick fluffy grey blanket covering your lap slides down at one side, revealing. Noticing, Scott pulls on the bottom of your nightgown, “cute.”

Your nightgown was light pink, silky, with little stars and moons on it.

“Don’t tease.”

Smirking, Scott lowers his head till your lips meet. At first the kiss is soft and gentle, but it quickly becomes heated. Feeling his hand on your bare thigh, your legs part, and Scott begins rubbing at the most sensitive spot through your underwear.

“Oh,” you slap your hand over your mouth to stop making noise.

Scott kisses your neck while sliding two of his fingers inside you, muffling his own groans. Just as you go to unzip his jeans, you open your eyes and notice the blinds had opened slightly and were now open, and something was outside looking in.

Abruptly, you push Scott’s hand away and jump to your feet. He stares at you alarmed, “Shit, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “There’s someone outside.”

“Keep an eye on the doors.” Without needing any further explanation, Scott sprints upstairs and then quickly runs back down with Wyatt in his arms. “Is it still there?”

You do your best to discreetly peek out of the window; at first you don’t see anything, but then you notice there’s a white mask left laying on the grass. “Not that I can see.”

He hands you Wyatt, who was still half asleep. “We gotta run for the car. Once we are inside, call Stiles and tell him we are going to the clinic, then call the police.”

You didn’t have time to ask questions, but something had scared the hell out of Scott as well.

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse part 12

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 FYI, I’ve basically imagined that Dustin and Suzie are roughly the same age as the others in this, so in their late teens and early twenties…

Chapter 12: reality check

Five Days later

Steve picked up the phone and dialled Eddie’s number. It rang twice, before the answerphone stabbed him with the same old jack-knife in the gut:

“Hi! This is Suzie.”

“And this is Dustin.”

“We’re not around right now—

“—or we’re having our downtime, together or apart, which is super important to us—” 

Jesus Christ, kill me already.

Steve had heard this message a dozen times. Dustin and Suzie sounded so goddamn chirpy, like they were going to explode into song. And Steve had endured waaaaay too many chirpy songs the last few nights, courtesy of Robin’s mom’s cassette deck.

He endured the rest of their nail-scapingly annoying message and braced himself for the Ding!

“Hi, this is Steve. Again. Look, I really need to talk to Ed—”

“Answerphone tape full,” recited an electronic voice, the polar-opposite of chirpy.

“Fuck!” Steve slammed down the receiver. 

Why wasn’t Eddie returning his calls?

Okay, Steve had been sleeping a ton the past few days, might’ve missed something. Robin’s leave was over today, and her mom worked really long shifts…

A muffled meeeeow had him looking up sharpish. Resident cat, Fernando, glared at him through the window.

“All right, I’m sorry I stole your couch. I don’t hate you, it’s your fur that hates me. Way to go making me feel even shittier about it.”

He glared back. Trouble was, this was Fernando’s home, not his. Robin had technically moved out last year, and he’d barely got a nickel to slot into the housekeeping kitty.

He was gonna have to sell his watch. Or the guitar. Dammit, he’d wanted to check in with Eddie first, but what choice did he have?

He leafed through the telephone directory for music stores, scraped together some loose change, and caught a bus across the city. On the journey, he missed his old Sony Walkman as never before. Thanks to Robin’s mom, ‘Mamma Mia’ by Abba ear-wormed through his brain. Uuuuuuurgh! He  hugged the glittery guitar case tightly and attempted to pep himself up.

Eddie said he was crazy about Steve. Steve sure as heck felt the same. 

“Yes, I’ve been broken-hearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why did I ever let you go?”

“Shut the hell up, Agnetha,” he muttered, earning himself a scathing glance from a woman sitting close. But Steve hadn’t been broken-hearted when he left the hotel. He’d been scared shitless over that fact he was losing his memory as well as his mind. He still was. His future with Eddie had been the one thing he’d felt faintly optimistic about, and… 

“Look at me now, will I ever learn?”

No. No way. Eddie was a good person. Yeah, Robin had passed hours bad-mouthing him. No matter. Steve believed in Eddie. Well, he desperately wanted to. He was getting really worried about him—about whether he’d really been ‘cured’ of his agoraphobia, and about his overly sass-tastic and curiously absent friends. 

He missed him so much. Christ, it hurt.

In ‘Jivin’ Jams,’ Steve laid the guitar case on the counter and opened it. The store-owner’s brows shot sky high: “Where did you get this, son?”

“A friend gave it me,” said Steve. “There was a rumor it once belonged to Jimi Hendrix or something.” 

The guy stared at him, mega-intense, which Steve took to be a positive sign. Maybe he should play hardball, get competing offers from a bunch of stores.

“I’m looking for at least two-thousand bucks,” he ventured.

“I got some catalogues out back that should help me figure out what it’s worth. Gimme a tick.”

Steve shrugged. “Sure.”

The dude vanished. Steve waited, grinning when a track he knew—‘Friday I’m in love,” by The Cure—drowned out the Abba hell-loop in his head. He remembered this one. Yeah, he’d been flat on his back on that honking great bed, with his ankles looped around Eddie’s neck. While merrily fucking Steve, Eddie had sung along like an idiot:

“Monday, you can hold your head, Tuesday, Wednesday, stay in bed, Or Thursday, watch the walls instead, It's Friday, I'm in love…”

Christ, he missed Eddie’s dumbass ‘o’ face. He missed how Eddie always needed him to come too, loving it when Steve squirted across those lick-tastic tatts. Yeah, he missed… so much. If he got a decent amount for the guitar, maybe he and Eddie could rent a place together. Get back to fucking every day of the week…

He was still daydreaming, smirking vaguely, when the two policemen walked in. 

“I didn’t know it was stolen!” protested Steve. The son-of-a-bitch store-owner handed the guitar over the counter to one of the cops.

“Where d’you get it then?” asked the other.

“A friend gave it to me.” Steve’s legs started to feel wibbly.

“This friend got a name?”

Steve bit hard into his bottom lip.

“You think on it, and tell us when we get to the precinct, huh?” 

They took his knapsack and turned out his pockets. When the handcuffs came out, the bubble of panic in his windpipe ballooned.

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” he repeated, sort of on autopilot. They cuffed him anyway. Outside the store, the cool air smarted against his burning skin. “C-crap. No, please! Look… I… I didn’t know!”

He was guided into the back of their patrol vehicle and the door slammed shut. He shut his eyes, rested his head back, and battled his instinct to struggle against the cuffs.

OH MY GOD, EDDIE! YOU REALLY WERE TAKEN FOR A CHUMP!  

Unless he knew it was stolen? No. No way, no way. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Okay… breathe. Keep calm, right? Shiiiiit! 

Steve had been picked up by the police once before. It’d been soon after he’d run from that man, when he was on the streets, and… Nope, nope, NOPE.

His mind grew as clammed up as his body. Which was probably how, breathing fast and shallow, he survived the short journey to the precinct. Still kinda dazed, he was uncuffed and processed. His rescue inhaler, which had been in his pack, was handed back to him. For the first time in a while, he managed to form a coherent sentence: “I need to make a phone call.”

As he was shown to the booth, his worries swerved off in a whole new direction. Dammit, he still didn’t know Robin’s number. He could try calling the hotel, see if he could get a message to her, but…

His unsteady fingers dialled the one number that’d etched itself into his heart. He knew it was gonna go to that ‘answerphone full’ message.

Shit, you are not gonna cry, Harrington, or you’re gonna be eaten alive.

“Hello, this is Suzie.”

“Oh Jesus Christ!”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not Him. This is Suzie Henderson. To whom am I speaking?”

“It’s Steve.” He swiped his knuckles across his cheekbones. “I’m, uh… um… Eddie’s friend. Is he there?”

“No, we don’t know where he is. We’re really worried.” She sure sounded less chirpy than in her message. “I thought Dusty tried to call you back. Have you heard from Eddie?”

“N-no, no. Oh my God. Oh my God, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”

“You seem distressed, Steve. Can I help?”

What choice did he have? He poured out his story, including how Eddie gave him the guitar he was accused of fencing, right till the call randomly cut off.

…

In the interview room, a tired-looking cop dumped a worryingly thick file between them.

“It’s a simple question, kid. Tell us how you came into possession of Jimi Hendrix’s guitar, and we can cut you a deal. You sing sweet enough, you could skip all charges.”

Steve chewed his thumbnail, stared at the table: “I got it from a friend.”

“Listen to me. That guitar was stolen during an armed robbery at a house in Brentwood. You already got an arrest record. You don’t talk, you’re looking at some serious time behind bars.”

Steve gawked up at the interviewer, his thumb still half-caught in his mouth. He’d go to the prison for the guy he loved but…

This isn’t happening.

“Whoever you’re covering for, are they worth it? You scared they’re gonna come for you? We can put you in witness protection.”

Scared? Of Eddie? It was almost hilarious, and finally snapped Steve from his clammed-up funk. He giggled nervously.

“You think this is funny, kid? You can laugh your ass off in jail. You wanna recall your friend’s name for me now?”

“I… um…”

Eddie would want you to tell him, you idiot! He can probably help clear this mess up! There is also the teensy weensy possibility he’s skipped town, leaving you holding his seriously problematic baby…

“Look, I’m not exactly sure where he—“

The door flew wide and a young woman with fashionably frizzy hair and some serious shoulder-pad action stepped in. “Stop the interview. My name’s Nancy Wheeler. I’m Steve’s lawyer and I need a moment alone with my client.”

The interviewer looked mildly pissed then picked up his files and shuffled out.

Steve slumped back in his seat and blinked at his apparent saviour. Beneath the make-up and the power suit, she didn’t look much older than he was. She smiled tightly, pulled a chair around and sat down beside him.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve finally found his voice. “I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but I can’t pay you anything."

“I’m not actually a lawyer,” she hissed, kinda apologetic. “I’m a trainee journalist. Friend of Suzie’s. She’s sort of into law as a hobby, and she’s clued me in on exactly what to say, so… sit tight, keep quiet. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

…

Nancy did a lot of talking, and Steve eventually found himself leaving the precinct flanked by Nancy and Suzie. Suzie had brought her checkbook to pay Steve’s bail, though in the end, he hadn’t been charged.

He’d lost track of time during his ordeal, and it was past ten pm and dark outside. Before they reached the bottom of the precinct steps, a Volvo drew up, and its internal light switched on. A guy with curly hair and a ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest’ baseball cap wound down the window.

“Get in!” he yelled.

“Love you too, Dusty-bun.” Suzie headed around to the front passenger seat. 

Steve hesitated. “Uh, look, I appreciate the cavalry charge and all, but you’re, like, complete strangers.”

“Get in, Dingus!” Robin had rolled down the backseat window.

“What the heck are you doing here?” He climbed in, and she folded him into a clumsy hug. Nancy climbed in on his other side.

“Are you okay?” asked Robin.

“Jesus, what do you think? I got arrested, and.. I’m so confused.”

Robin launched her story, as Dustin drove off. When she’d discovered Steve AWOL, she’d freaked out. Then she’d called Dustin’s number, which she knew Steve had been trying all week. While garbling madly at each other, she’d learned from Dustin about Steve’s arrest. Dustin, meanwhile, gleaned that Robin had heard from co-workers that day about an incident at the hotel.

The same incident that Dustin, Suzie and Nancy had spent the last few days trying to get to the bottom of.

“What happened at the hotel?” asked Steve.

“We’re not entirely sure,” said Nancy. Steve wasn’t sure why they'd gotten a rookie journalist in tow. So much baffled him right now. “What we do know is that the police have charged Eddie with assault and battery. His disappearing act doesn’t exactly help his case.” 

“What? No way!” Steve couldn’t buy it. Eddie was one of the gentlest guys he’d ever known. Okay, there was that one time he busted his own knuckles, but…

"It's a pretty serious business," Robin was saying. "The only witness was Doreen. She swore that the so-called 'victim’”— Robin spluttered the word out like sour milk—“was blind drunk and walked into a pillar, but the police didn't buy it.”

“We’ve got to find Eddie before the cops do,” chipped in Dustin.

“Yeah, well, LAPD are the least of Eddie’s troubles,” snapped Robin. “I’m gonna gut him over this whole guitar business.”

Too fucking much.

After the rollercoaster of the past few hours, Steve felt basically punch-drunk. He groaned, rubbed his brow, then shaded his eyes from the dazzle of the streetlights. “Please just someone tell me you’ve got a clue where Eddie is.”

“It’s a work in progress,” said Suzie. “He never picked up his ride from the hotel. We’ve exhausted our leads locally, so we’re heading up to Oregon to see his uncle. Wayne won’t talk over the phone—”

“He won’t talk to us, period,” interjected Dustin. “But I think he knows something.”

“We’re going to Oregon?” Steve emerged from beneath his fingers. “Now? The cops told me to not leave town.”

“Dustin said he’d drop us home first,” said Robin. “I’d be delighted to wash my hands of Jon Bon Jovi’s evil stoner cousin for good.”

“He’s not evil.” Steve gave an enormous yawn, then zoned in on the one thing he knew for sure. “I need to find him. You go home, Robin. Fernando will scratch my eyes out if I spend another night on his couch.”

She bitched a bit more, including about how yuck and sweaty he was. Then she refused to leave him. He curled up against her—he couldn’t risk drooling on a complete stranger—and hunkered down for the long drive.

....

Part 13 on Ao3 (tumblr link coming soon!)

promise we’ll get back to Eddie in the next chapter. I needed to get a few more characters into play so we can finally get steddie on their path to healing and HEA… soon (ish!) 

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[quietwingsinthesky]

And fundamentally the thing is that. John & Chuck raised Sam & Lucifer to turn out like them, to turn out to be more than them. But if that ever starts to happen, it gets shut down because oh, shit, that destabilizes the family power dynamics, disown, disown, disown!!!

[p2iimon]

drawing more furry fnaf art. yknow just to keep you posted. i love posting in the tags sorry these ones got away from me

[nathandrakeisabottom]

some asshole on my uncharted uquiz put “aaw I imagined all your fanfic quotes as nate and elena”

like c’mon asshole get off my page thx for ruining my day

[iwasbored777]

Unpopular opinion: I don't think Valka from How To Train Your Dragon is a good mother and that her and Stoick's relationship is romantic

[todayisafridaynight]

definitely not related to anything but how do you think Masato would view who he became in the present? I feel like he'd obv feel vindication for having fixed his fucked up body somewhat and gotten to the level of power he'd desired but at the same time i have to wonder if theres a lil bit of seething at aokis hypocrisy and sliminess (not that he's any better but i don't think he'd have the self awareness to get that oops)

GREAT QUESTION. ASTOUNDING QUESTION EVEN......

theres no doubt that masato wouldnt have any qualms about aoki yk. Succeeding and getting as far as he has

at the same time, i think because it's not him (as in. he's still 'stuck' with the self he has now) there'd be envy. like Yeah Thats Great He Gets That Eventually But Why Not Now kind of deal- and why'd it have to take All Of That to get it anyway ? unfair, he thinks. me thinks (╯▽╰ )

[dirt-str1der]

Love all the randos in y0 making fun of majima for being skinny calling him shit like stickman and other insulting things i forgot and they make sure to really cement that majima is your wireframe protagonist and then he takes off his shirt and hes literally normal shaped. Bullshit i want to see a scarecrow i dont like his beefy body , you hyped me up only to lie to me

[pureconancommentary]

Okay, but like. I legitimately cannot understand this guy's grudge. I get that he believes his son died due to the doctor's incompetence or negligence, basically that he could have saved his son, but either made a mistake or maybe at worst didn't feel like trying when the kid was able to be saved. He refused to listen/admit that his son couldn't be saved, that it was too late, maybe internally trying to not think about that possibility because it might mean he was the one who failed to notice soon enough and got his son killed. This man has some problem with the truth.

But. Why would you decide that the correct decision is to make the doctor feel the same pain by killing his child. Waiting years to make sure that the kid is the same age as the son he lost. Even at the worst possible interpretation of the event in the past, the doctor never outright murdered this guy's son. This man is fully okay with personally killing a child to get revenge on someone he believed made a mistake. Misplaced anger is one thing, but he's had three years to cool his head and decide he can't take the life of a kid he explicitly allowed to live to be the same age as his son. Wtf dude.

[sevenines]

i finished the main story of the pokemon scarlet violet dlc and i am floored i didnt expect it to be so good.

one of my favorite parts of it is how it lowkey participates in the trend of critiquing the role of a main character, but in never fully stating it the game only reinforces such a message even more. the basis of kieran’s frustrations is that HE is not the main character, and no matter how much more sense it would make for certain events to happen to him (befriending ogerpon, getting terapagos) he will never be the protagonist. and frustratingly, the main character—being a self insert—is emotionless in comparison. you never even get the choice to step aside and let kieran get what he wants because you yourself are trapped as the bland protagonist. the character is never animated half as passionate as kieran is no matter what the player feels because the game must accommodate for every user. narratively it feels right to let him achieve his biggest dreams but it can never happen. and in the end he can’t even stay mad at you. you’re the main character.

also when he tried to take control of the narrative and took terapagos with the master ball i cheered