#i stand by the original ending + i won’t write an alternate ending so i don’t mind when people do!!

[otrtbs]

now is the time when i come out and say that i hate the term “fix it fic” so very much

[morgana-larkin]

Mwahahaha hi I’m back to test your limits. I LOVED Want You Back sooo much. Can I request an alternate ending tho?? Where Mel apologizes and we’re like “oh cool thank u but I can’t believe u were willing to throw away a long term relationship without even talking ab it or letting me explain idk if I can trust u again what if something else triggers u and u just run away without making room for a conversation” and she’s like o shit ur right idk I promise never to do it again and we’re like idk bro u kinda broke my trust. And then BOOM. Sad ending. Maybe we fuck first and then decide in the end that we don’t wanna get back together w her. MWAHAHAHA

🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️. So I’ll be honest, I started writing this thinking there’ll be a whole lot of angst, turns out it only starts with angst then just becomes sad. I don’t know where it came from but apparently my brain deemed heartbreak, so I was like “ok brain” and just went with it. It starts off a bit before the smut part in the original. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I got more prompts I’m getting through, you can keep sending them and I’m adding Marilyn Thornhill to the list of characters I write for.

Ti amo - I love you

Want You Back - Alternate Ending

Warnings: Alright where to start *checks notes*… angst and no comfort, no fluff, sad Mel, brief car accident mention, just angst and fluff, no happy ending, smut, good luck

Words: 4.1k

“Then what are you apologising for?”

“For 6 years ago, making a big mistake.”

“Wha-”

“I read your note.” She says, cutting you off. “I should have listened to you but I was just so angry that I couldn’t think.” She tells you and looks at you with guilt. “The real reason I said no to Gary is because I didn’t want to be with him because I still have feelings for you. And I felt so guilty about how I reacted and I unblocked your number when I got home after reading your note and read all the texts and I wanted to find you or contact you but I had no way of doing that.” And a few tears slip down her cheeks.

“I haven’t moved on, you know. I’ve forgiven you for that night but I haven’t gotten over you.” You say and Melissa is looking at you with wide puffy eyes. “I tried, I ended up living with a girlfriend for a year. But then she broke up with me when she wanted more and I didn’t. Said I was emotionally unavailable. Which I guess is true, you can’t develop big feelings for someone if your heart belongs to someone else.” You said and the look on Melissa’s face said it all.

“Who does your heart belong too?”

“You.” Melissa sucked in a breath. “When I saw you standing there in the break room after 6 years, I couldn’t believe it, and you still look beautiful and stunning.” She let out an airy laugh.

“You as well, you still look so damn beautiful. My heart belongs to you too.” Melissa then gets up and walks over to you and crouches next to you and holds your hand and you look down at her. “I want to be with you again, if you’ll have me.” She asks and you look at her.

A few tears slip down your face and you look away. “I do want to be with you again Mel but I can’t.” You tell her and she looks at you with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” She asks, still full of hope that you’ll take her back.

“I mean I can’t.” You tell her and look at her. “You sacrificed a happy relationship and didn’t even think about anything or let me explain. You read my note and that’s when you finally knew you fucked up. If you let me explain that night then we might still be happily together now.” You tell her and she looks down at the floor with guilt. The hope she had fading away the more you talk. She brings your hand to her mouth and kisses it. She puts her other hand on yours and has yours in between both of hers.

“Please, let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.” She says with tears running down her face and choking on her words.

“I really want to Mel, truly. But could you promise me that what happened won’t happen again? Can you promise that you won’t ever blow up at me and break up with me without letting me explain. I do love how passionate you are and how jealous you can be. It’s very sexy.” You tell her and you put your other hand on her cheek and wipe away her tears, she leans into your touch. “But you chose to let your jealousy take over instead of your love for me that night.” You tell her and she nods with a bunch of tears on her face.

“I’m so sorry y/n.” She tells you and she’s full on crying now. You get up and lean down to hug her. She grips onto you and puts her head on your shoulder and continues crying on you.

“I know Mel, I know.” You tell her and you rub her back soothingly. After a few minutes she calms down and leans her head on your chest near your heart.

“I really fucked up. If I were you, I wouldn’t forgive me either.” She tells you.

“I told you I forgive you Mel, but I didn’t forget. I need to protect my heart.” You tell her and she nods. Then an idea pops into your head. “When we get out of here, maybe we both need closure.” You tell her and she blinks a few times before she understands what you mean and lifts her head up.

“Are you saying we should have sex one last time?” She asks and you nod.

“It’s ok if you say no, it’s just a thought.” You tell her and she wipes away her tears.

“I like that idea.” She tells you and you nod.

“Ok, your place after school or mine?” You ask.

“Mine.” She tells you and you nod. Melissa moves to lean against a wall, legs up and arms around them, hugging herself. You on the other hand went to lean against the door. Legs up but head back on the door. “You shouldn’t have your weight on it in 2 hours or you’ll fall when they open it.” She tells you and you look at her.

“I know.” You tell her. “I’ll move before they do.” You say, except you fall asleep and you do indeed fall back when they open it. Fall back with a “ah.” Splayed on the floor with everyone looking at you. Melissa slowly moves her head to look at you.

“I told you not to lean all your weight on it.” She tells you.

“Ya ya.” You tell her and you get up and then tell them all a good night and walk to your car.

Barb looks to you leaving then to Melissa who’s still curled up on the floor. She walks over to her and bends down, Melissa shakes her head, fresh tears coming down her face. Barb wraps an arm around her shoulders and rubs the shoulder furthest from her. “She said she forgave me for that night but said she can’t get back together with me. She said she has to protect her heart.” She says through sobs.

“I’m so sorry Melissa.” Barb says and everyone looks at her with sorry expressions.

“I understand, I made a huge mistake that night that I shouldn’t have. I mean I should have let her explain why that guy was kissing her but I didn’t. I mean he forced it on her and she was trapped and what did I do? I didn’t protect her, instead I yelled at her and broke up with her.” Melissa says, so much guilt that she carries.

“Melissa, you had no idea it was forced on her.” Barb says. “I mean you were at the table when she went to get the drinks. You didn’t see anything except the kiss.”

“I know but I loved her, I still do. I should have let her explain. I mean she tried but I kept pushing her off, I’m such an idiot.” She says and cries again, this time on Barb. The others decide to leave to let them have privacy. And honestly they’re shocked, they were hoping Melissa would have a happy ending and they’ve never seen her cry before.

After a few minutes Melissa calms down then gets off Barb and wipes her cheeks to get the tear stains off. Barb lets her go and they both get up, Melissa wipes her pants to get the dust off and sniffles a bit.

“Do you want me to come over tonight? Keep you company.” Barb offers but Melissa immediately declines.

“No, I just want to be alone tonight.” She ain’t gonna tell Barb the real reason she’s declining, she might not understand it.

“Ok, but call or text me if you need anything, ok?” Barb says and Melissa nods her head. Barb helps guide Melissa to her car and watches as she drives out of the parking lot before she gets in her car to go home.

Once Melissa gets to her place, she sees your car in her driveway and you still in your car. She pulls up next to you and you see her. You both get out and you walk inside to the house. You look around while Melissa gets wine. She comes out with your favourite red wine and 2 glasses while you’re still looking around. After all, you did live here when you were together, and it changed a lot. First of all there was plastic on the couch again and you roll your eyes at that. There was more family pictures up, she must have done it when you took your pictures off the wall. And there was more on the table, behind the couch, you walk over and pick up one and look at it.

“You kept it.” You told her and she walks up and sees the one you meant, even though she already knew. It was you and her on your first anniversary, you took her to a Philly game and she asked you to move in and it happened on the same day. You were dressed up in your Philly gear and you were hugging her with a bunch of boxes behind you. You both had huge smiles on your faces. You looked at it and remembered the day, like it was yesterday, and a tear slips down your face. You put it down and you turn to her. You see her with the 2 glasses and your favourite wine, you can’t believe she remembers.

“Of course I kept it. It was one of the happiest days of my life.” She says and walks to sit on the couch.

“I see you also put the plastic back on the couch.” You tell her with an eye roll.

“Obviously, you’re the reason I took it off. So since you weren’t here to complain, I put it back on.” She says and you smile and walk over to sit down beside her.

“Are you sure you want this Mel?” You ask her and she does a big breath in and out.

“Ya, I think we both need this.” She tells you and you nod and you take the offered glass of wine. You think that maybe you’ll be able to trust her again and might get back together but for now, you both need closure.

You both down the drinks quickly and then you stop. You don’t want to be tipsy or drunk so you’d remember this. Melissa then gets up and holds her hands out for you to take with a soft smile. You take her hands and she pulls you up. She then guides you to her bedroom and closes the door behind you. She brings you to the bed and pushes you on it then crawls on top of you, knowing you like the view. She then leans down and kisses you and you grab her head to push her down more to kiss her harder.

You run your fingers through her beautiful locks of orange hair, admiring how it feels as you kiss her. You then gently start scratching and rubbing her scalp and she begins moaning. You smirk, remembering what drives her to make the noises you love to hear. Melissa feels the smirk and pulls back to look at you. “Being cheeky are we?” She asks and you nod proudly. Melissa smiles at you then goes down to kiss your neck. She really wants to suck and do small bites on your neck but she doesn’t know how you’d feel about it and you’re not hers anymore.

“You can leave 2 hickeys.” You tell her, somehow knowing exactly what she was thinking. “As long as they’re on the side enough for my hair to cover them.” You tell her and she moves your hair out of the way and goes to your neck and starts sucking. You gasp and buck your hips under her and Melissa smiles as she keeps sucking, wanting to make sure they stay there for at least 3-4 days.

You take her shirt off and you stare at her chest and stomach. You then feel her all over with your hands, on her chest, on her stomach, all over her back. When trying to feel her back, the bra gets in the way and you unclip it quickly. You take her bra off and push her back as she was kissing your neck. You look at her breasts again and you always remembered how amazingly full they are. You put your hands on them and squeeze them, you run your hands all over them and then you look at her. Melissa can tell what you want and she scoots up a bit then leans down so you can put her nipple in your mouth.

You’re still able to have a hand on her boob while your mouth is on the nipple and you’re loving it. After having a few one night stands and a couple relationships, all with smaller breasts, you love having a big chest to touch and look at. Melissa knows how much you loved her breasts when you were together, she let you have however long you wanted with her chest when you were together and she’s going to do that again right now. “Take your time and touch them all you want baby, I don’t mind.” She tells you and you hum and nod. You take your time swirling your tongue around the nipples and sucking on the skin, leaving hickeys on her boobs.

She then pulls you shirt off when you pull back and she runs her hands all over you. She unclips your bra and takes it off and runs her hands all over your chest and cups your boobs. She always loved your smaller chest, she’s able to fit the whole boob in her hand, a perfect handful. She then leans down and sucks and licks the nipple, knowing it gets you very wet. Your neck and your breasts she knows are the most sensitive on you and it gets you wet very quickly.

She then trails down your stomach with kisses and stops where the top of your skirt is. She always loved when you wore skirts, easy and quick access, especially since you loved flowy skirts instead of skin tight pencil skirts. She looks at you and you nod, then she pulls your underwear down and off of you. She takes a look at you in nothing but a skirt on, a cute skirt as well.

She then spreads your legs and sticks her head under your skirt. She places kisses on your thighs, trailing up and down until you're whining and begging. Then she places a kiss on your clit and licks a strip up your entrance. You moan as you feel her hot tongue on your entrance and going up to lick your entire pussy. She licks your pussy a few times before she goes to your entrance and sticks her tongue in. You gasp and moan as she does that, remembering how good it always felt when she did. Melissa knew your body very well when you were together, she always pays attention to what you like and don’t like. Right now she’s doing everything you like and taking her time, wanting to draw this out as much as possible.

While she’s sliding her tongue in and out of your entrance, she slides her hands up your body and land on your breasts and she cups them. You begin bucking your hips and she uses her elbows to pin you down. “Oohh Melissa, that feels so good. Oh you’ve always known how to pleasure a woman with just your tongue.” You tell her and she smiles. She then travels her tongue up to your clit and she sucks and licks it. You keep trying to buck your hips to get more pleasure but she has you pinned down and she doesn’t plan on telling you to stop moving, just wants you to enjoy tonight. Before you come however, a minute later, she pulls back and you let out a frustrated groan at her.

“What do you want me to do to you baby? How would you like me to fuck you?” She asks and you think.

“Can you lick my clip and finger me until I come then fuck me with a strap?” You ask her and she smiles warmly at her.

“Of course.” She tells you then goes to get the strap and comes back. She goes to take off her pants but you stop her.

“Wait, I want to undress you.” You tell her and she stops immediately and stands there beside the bed where you are and you get off the bed then kneel down on your knees in front of her. You undo her pants then pull the zipper down. You then slowly slide her jeans down, over her amazing hips and then down her legs, then she lifts one foot off the floor at a time to take them off. You then grip the top of her underwear and slowly pull them down off her pussy. You noticed a wet spot on her underwear and you smile when you see she’s practically dripping. You can’t resist lifting up a bit and licking her pussy.

She starts bucking her hips while you lick her and then start sucking on her clit. Her legs get shaky and she puts her hands in your hair to keep you where you are. Without pulling away from her, you gently push her and she falls on the bed in a seated position and she spreads her legs to give you more room. She still has her hands in your hair and she’s rubbing your scalp while murmuring praises to you and moaning. “Oh that feels so good baby. Oh keep going. That’s my good girl. Your tongue feels so fucking good on my pussy baby. You move your tongue so it’s now sliding in and out of her entrance and you put a finger on her clit and start rubbing circles on it. She moans and gasps and starts bucking her hips and you’re able to pin her down enough to keep going. She has one hand on the bed to keep her up and she has one on your head, buried in your hair, and keeping you exactly where you are on her pussy. “Oh baby, is this turning you on?” She asks and you nod. “Why don’t you touch yourself baby? Pleasure yourself while you pleasure me, but don’t let yourself cum.” She instructs you and you move your hand in between your legs and you start rubbing your clit and you moan. And since your mouth is wrapped around her pussy, your moan vibrates on her and sends a shot of pleasure right through her and she gasps. “Oh baby, I’m so close, make me cum my good girl.” She says and you rub her clit faster and move your tongue in and out of her faster as well. She jerks her hips and her legs are shaking, then she cums with a high pitch gasp.

You then pull your tongue out of her once you lick up all her cum then you stand up. You let her calm down as she’s breathing fast and then she hugs your waist and lays her head on your stomach. You know physical touch helps her calm down so you massage her scalp and then her breathing slows down. She then pulls you on the bed, on top of her and you fall on her. You think this might have been her plan as your pussy is right near her mouth and she aligns it with her tongue and then dives in. You lift yourself up just as she licks your entrance and you almost fall down due to the surprise and pleasure. You position yourself so that you’re leaning back a bit to cup her boobs and enjoy her tongue on your clit. “Lean forward and go on your hands baby.” She tells you and you obey right away. “My good girl.” She says and some more wetness goes right to your core, as if you weren’t already dripping.

She then is able to now slip a finger inside of your entrance like you wanted and you gasp, she feels how wet you are and slips another finger in, and then a third. You moan as she slams her fingers in and out of you and curls them to touch your special spot. You don’t last much longer and you cum with a moan. She then pulls out of you and while still licking you, she pulls the strap on while you come down from your high. She knows your favourite position with the strap is doggy style and then move to both on just your knees with your back pressed against her front. So she slips out from under you then gets on her knees behind you and slides the strap inside. She then starts sliding it in and out of you slowly, wanting to hear all your gasps and moans as much as possible. After about 5 minutes of that, and some begging from you, she pulls you up so that your back is pressed against her boobs as you like to feel them. You move a hand behind you, in her hair and she cups your boobs and thrusts faster in and out of you.

She then moves your hair away from your neck and she sucks and kisses your neck. While still having one hand cupping your boob, she moves her other one to circle your clit. The sensation becomes overwhelming and you would have fallen forward if she wasn’t holding you up. You end up coming 10 seconds later and Melissa doesn’t stop as she’s close as well.

She starts praising you and calling you sweet nicknames in Italian, thinking you forgot what they meant, which you didn’t. You don’t say anything, you just let her do that, and if you’re being honest, you find it sexy when she speaks Italian.

With the overstimulation and the hot redhead pressing you into her boobs and saying sweet things in Italian to you, you end up cumming 2 more times before she cums. She slows down in you before pulling out, and even when she’s coming down from her high, she knows not to let you go so you don’t fall forward. She ends up wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder.

After you both calm down enough, she lets you go and takes the strap off before running into the bathroom. She comes out with a cloth and cleans you both before throwing it on the floor with the strap, then climbs into bed next to you and you end up cuddling on her. You put your head on her boob and wrap an arm around her stomach, and a leg to rest along her waist.

Melissa has an arm wrapped around your back and pulls you closer to her, she then kisses your forehead and whispers “ti amo” when she thinks you’re asleep, you weren’t and heard her perfectly.

You both end up falling asleep.

Melissa awakes about 3 hours later to an empty bed. You ended up waking up before her and slipped out before she woke up.

On Monday, you continue to treat her as you were, as if you never had sex with her and it broke her. She ends up not coming in the rest of the week, Ava mentioning that she didn’t hear from her on Friday, causing Barb to go check on her.

While visiting her house, she gets a call from the hospital, informing her that Melissa was in a car accident and in CCU. She then calls you and the both of you visit her in her hospital room. Barb goes to see if she can get some food for both of you, leaving you alone with an unconscious Melissa. You were holding her hand and at some point she squeezed it, letting you know that she knows you’re there and that she’s ok.

When Melissa wakes up a few days later, Barb tells her that you switched schools and states and might not return to Philly ever again. Barb also let her know that you want to tell her “I’m sorry.”

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[augustslippedavvay]

i was made for lovin’ you, baby (eddie munson)

summary: you're working your way through college at a dingy bar in indianapolis. one of your coworkers asks you to switch shifts, and you'd never in a million years have been able to guess who plays guitar in the tuesday/thursday band.

author's note: in this eddie graduates on time in '84 like he was supposed to; reader graduates in '86, so this takes place in like. '87? so much canon divergence i am so sorry but i really just wanted to write a sweet, self-indulgent college au eddie munson fanfic bc he deserves the entire world and that includes a smokin hot bartender who gives him free drinks and listens to all of his favorite bands

side note i have no one to beta read for me so pls excuse any grammatical/spelling errors okay love you byeeeee

pairing: eddie munson x reader word count: 3.8k warnings: alternate universe: canon divergence, college au, no spoilers, fluff, some serious flirting, quite a bit of making out

also!!!!! this was originally posted to AO3 under the user starspngledman. this is my work. please do not repost without permission!!!

The sound of a stool scraping across the floor down the bar pulls you from your thoughts. Your mouth opens slightly in disbelief when you see who’s occupying that stool. You stop polishing the glass you have in your hand and set it down, afraid you’ll drop it. 

It’s Eddie. Fucking. Munson.

You thought you’d successfully left Hawkins behind when you moved away, but it would appear not. You swallow around the nervous lump that’s appeared in your throat and ready yourself to serve him.

He probably won’t even remember who I am, you think, closing your eyes for a beat before walking to the end of the bar, stopping to stand in front of where he’s sitting with his head bowed. 

“What can I get you?”

Eddie brings his gaze up from his hand to your eyes and immediately stops fidgeting with the ring on his pinkie finger. He squints.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

You blanch, then plaster on a tentative smile. “Did you go to Hawkins High School?”

You can see the gears that have been shifting in Eddie’s head finally lock into place and he makes some sort of gesture with his hands that you don’t quite understand.

“Yes! You were in band, right?” 

You mime playing the trumpet and Eddie cackles, “Oh, yeah, I remember you,” pointing at you and nodding before holding out his hand for you to shake. “Munson. Eddie. In case you forgot.”

“I can promise you I did not,” you say, taking his hand. “Pretty hard to forget the dungeon master with the mullet who made a habit of standing on lunch tables and personifying his electric guitar. I was a grade or two below you, I think.”

Eddie smiles as if lost in nostalgic thought and shakes his head. He drops your hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” you say, gesturing towards yourself, behind the bar. 

Eddie snorts. “No, no, I mean in Indianapolis. Didn’t you have, like, big city dreams?”

“Indianapolis is the capital of Indiana?” You offer, raising an eyebrow.

“Like, New York- or LA-sized dreams. Everyone thought you’d be on the cover of magazines, soon enough.”

You open your mouth to answer him, but a customer down the bar smacks his hand on the countertop to get your attention, gesturing to the empty bottle in front of him, and you glare at him for a moment before looking back at Eddie. “Hold that thought, Munson.”

Eddie smirks and watches you walk away. “What a small world,” he calls to you while you grab a bottle of Bud Light out of the icebox under the bar. You open the bottle and slide it down the bar to the old man, who snatches it up and slaps a five dollar bill down on the counter, grumbling obscenities in your direction before walking off to loiter near the dart board. You snatch one more bottle of the same out of the icebox and pop it open, too, tossing the cap into the trash.

“Sure is,” you say, sauntering back over to him and setting the bottle directly in front of Eddie. He gives you a cheeky look and takes a long pull, giving an exaggerated ahhh once he’s done. 

“God, they sure do treat you well here, huh?”

“More or less. So, what are you doing in Indianapolis, then?”

“Nah, we were still talking about you,” Eddie says, wagging his finger in your direction. He pushes one hand through his long, curly hair, swiping it out of his eyes, and takes another sip of his beer.

You scrunch your nose at him and fold your arms. You shrug. “Sure, yeah, I was gonna head out to LA and try to make it big, but my parents threatened to cut me off if I didn’t go to college right out of high school. My mom went to the university here and she still knows people, so she pulled some strings and got me admitted, early decision. I’m majoring in English. It’s not bad, but it’s not showbiz, so.”

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, before he whistles and shakes his head. “That’s fucked up.”

You shrug once more, trying to come across as apathetic as possible, but then you break composure and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Showbiz?” He circles back, cocking his head in your direction. “Are you an actor?”

“Kind of,” you say, squinting. “I want to be.”

Eddie nods, glancing up and down, from the top of your head to your waist, sizing you up. “I can see it.”

His gaze makes you feel all warm in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You change the subject. “What are you doing in Indy, Munson?”

“My band and I moved out here to try to make it big, coincidentally.” He uses his thumb to gesture over his shoulder toward the makeshift stage at the back of the bar, then takes one more long sip from his beer and sets it down in front of himself, the empty bottle clanging against the counter. He rubs his other thumb up and down the neck of the bottle, absentmindedly, his ring singing against the glass, and your gaze can’t help but follow it. “A friend of a friend got us this gig here just a few months ago. Every Tuesday and Thursday, and every other Friday.” 

“No wonder I’ve never seen you here before,” you say, tapping the bartop with your pointer finger. “I typically work Wednesdays and Sundays. The slow nights. Janine asked me to pick this up for her last minute.”

“Sounds like fate to me,” Eddie says, whistling. 

“You thought you were going to make it big in Indianapolis, Indiana?”

“It was supposed to just be one stop before we eventually moved out to California, but now we’re too broke, so we’re pretty much stuck here. Not so bad now that I know you’re here, too, though.”

You roll your eyes. “You flirting with me, Munson?”

His whole face lights up. “Dunno. You want me to be flirting with you?”

Shaking your head, you pick his empty bottle up and stash it in the trash bag under the bar. “You said y’all play here every Tuesday and Thursday?”

“And every other Friday,” Eddie says, nodding. 

“I’ll have to see if one of the other bartenders will trade shifts with me. You have to be better than the band they have in here during my shifts.”

“You haven’t even heard us play yet. You might end up eating your words.” He grins from ear to ear and stands, pressing his palms flat against the counter. “What do I owe you for the beer, sunshine?”

You blush again at the term of endearment, then shake your head. “On the house.”

“‘On the house’? Do you treat every miscreant you went to high school with who comes through your bar this nice?”

You ignore him. “But you gotta promise to play me a song.”

“Play you a song? What if I play all the songs for you, instead?”

“Nah - you gotta play me a song.”

Eddie bites his tongue, the tip sticking out between his lips just slightly, and he nods. “Alright. We’ll play you a song. What do you like?”

“The Clash,” you say, matching his stance, placing your palms on the counter, the tips of your fingers almost touching his. “KISS, Def Leppard, Motley Crue. Any of their stuff will do.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Eddie says, slapping the bartop lightly and backing off before turning on his heel. You shake your head, and as if he can sense it, he calls back, “And I’ll see if I can sweet talk Janine into giving you her Tuesday shift permanently.”

“Make it Friday, too. I want the tips.”

Eddie snorts and nods, looking back over his shoulder. “You got it, sunshine.”

That night, his band plays an encore of “Pour Some Sugar On Me” by Def Leppard to all nine patrons in the bar, and Eddie’s eyes never leave yours the entire song.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

“When are you gonna let me take you out?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, looking at Eddie over the tap your fist is currently curled around. “What? Why? Have you asked? Did I miss that?”

“No, no,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “This is me asking. So, what do you say? You wanna go out with me?”

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Eddie,” you tut, sucking your teeth. You hand the full glass off to the customer to Eddie’s left. “You think you can just flirt with me once and then ask me out, and that I’ll say yes right off the bat?”

Eddie purses his lips, then cocks his head, looking up past you, feigning deep thought, before he nods fervently. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

“Sorry, pal,” you say, but it’s with a smile. He puts both hands over his heart. “Don’t make me regret letting Janine pawn tonight’s shift off to me, too.”

“You wound me.”

“What can I say? I have standards. I gotta hand it to you, though, Munson; you have so much more game than you ever did in high school.”

His jaw drops and he barks out a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You smirk and cross your arms. “Eddie. You enthusiastically played Dungeons & Dragons - you recruited for Dungeons & Dragons - at a school whose idea of fun was piling into the gym every weekend to watch a game where they toss balls into laundry baskets. I know the girls weren’t exactly fawning over you. But hey,” you say, holding a hand out to him when his mouth opens even further, “it’s not like the guys were fawning over me, either!”

“Uh, I don’t know where you were back then, but yeah, they were. They, like, really were.”

“Stop trying to deflect,” you chastise. “All I’m saying is that you’re much more suave than you were when I knew you before. You’ve always been charming, but now it’s like…”

You trail off and, after seeing the look on Eddie’s face, decide you don’t want to finish that thought. 

“It’s like what, huh?” His self-satisfied expression makes you groan. “And you think I’m charming?”

“Begrudgingly, yes.”

“So why not go out with me?”

You scoff. You check the clock above the front door. “Your set starts soon, Munson.”

Eddie smiles softly at you. “Who’s deflecting now?”

Rolling your eyes, you reach over the bar and gently shove him, urging him off his stool. “Go on.”

“I’m gonna get you to go out with me,” Eddie says, standing and backing off the stool. He points at you. “Mark my words.”

“Mark my words? What are you, a D&D villain?”

“Sometimes!” He turns his back to you and strides over to the makeshift stage, shedding his leather jacket. You toss your head back and pinch the bridge of your nose, then look up again. Eddie’s eyes find yours as he loops his guitar strap around his shoulder and starts to tune it.

“Are you wearing a crop top, Munson?”

“Yeah,” Eddie calls. “You like it?”

Your face turns a few shades darker and Eddie grins.

“Knew you would. Wore it for you, doll.”

“I hate you,” you say.

“No you don’t,” he teases. “You like me.”

You almost wish you could say he wasn’t right. Then again, you don’t.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

It’s just after 5 o’clock on a Tuesday and you’re starting to serve the regulars that tend to roll in at open on the dot when you hear Eddie all but shout your name from the other side of the room. You glance up and watch him pushing through the front door, guitar case and amp in his hands, and you can’t help but admire the way he looks in his tee shirt. It’s loose on him, and he has his sleeves rolled up above his shoulders. You smile at him and wave.

It’s been a few weeks since Eddie successfully charmed Janine into switching her shifts with yours (all of them, actually - the Tuesday, the Thursday, and the every other Friday). You have no clue how he managed that, honestly. Janine isn’t exactly your biggest fan, but you won’t question it.

You’ve been thoroughly enjoying Eddie’s company for the few hours you get to spend in the same room as him on those days. He feels warm, and just being around him brings your mood up. You’d never tell him that, though.

Or maybe you would, just to see the look on his face. 

You seriously can’t believe you never noticed him in high school. Or that you did, but never like this.

“We rehearsed a new cover this morning, just for you, sweetheart,” Eddie calls to you with a wink, grinning at the way it makes you blush so red he can see it from over there. “Think you’re really gonna like it.”

“You know what I like,” you yell back, matching his grin with your own, and turn your back to unpack some boxes before he can say anything else to you.

Eddie shakes his head, muttering, “That woman. Death of me. Swear to God,” under his breath, unloading his gear and heading out to the van to help his bandmates grab everything else.

You wade through work, slow as molasses, for the next hour or so, watching Eddie and his band set up their gear and tune their instruments. You can’t help wondering what he has planned for you.

“Will you give me a hint?”

It's quiet in the bar, for the time being, and Eddie looks up from where he’s on his knees untangling cables and smiles. “A hint?”

“Yeah. For what you’re gonna play for me tonight.”

Eddie blows air through his lips and swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I guess, uh…”

A bigger grin lights up his face and he puts both hands on his thighs. “It’s something I want to do to you.”

“Eddie, I swear to God,” you start, but he’s already turned back to his setup, the shit-eating expression on his face evidence that he’s pleased with himself.

You leave it at that. The band starts playing their set without much ceremony, like they always do, and much to your performed chagrin, they actually sound pretty incredible tonight. You catch Eddie’s eye a few times and he shoots you wolfish smile after wolfish smile, each of which makes your stomach flip.

“This last song is dedicated to you, sweetheart,” Eddie says into his microphone, raising a hand to point straight at you with his plectrum and wink. The older men sitting at the bar turn and stare at you, murmuring to one another. “You’ll see what I meant earlier.”

When that familiar guitar riff starts, you blush. You watch Eddie’s fingers as he rips through the first few chords of “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by KISS. Your eyes move up his body and heat blossoms from the center of your stomach outward when you take in the look in his eyes as he stares at you. 

It’s…hungry. You shiver. 

It’s something I want to do to you. You assume he means kiss. He could also mean any number of other things, but you don’t want to think about those right now. It takes every ounce of strength you have to tear your eyes away from his, but you do, looking back down at his hands. You bite your lip and take a sip of your own beer, then press the cold glass against your cheek to bring your body temperature down. You glance up again and watch as Eddie’s expression darkens as you start to sing along. You might just have to take him up on that.

I was made for lovin’ you, baby, you were made for lovin’ me. And I can’t get enough of you, baby, can you get enough of me?

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

“Eddie,” you call, watching him pull his guitar from its hard case and set it against an amp. A few days have passed since he pulled that stunt with the KISS song, and you fully intend to get him back for it.

He looks up at you, a bright, open expression painted across his face. 

“Can you help with something in the back?” 

You smile softly and angle your head in the direction of the back room. He starts to say something, stammering, then stands abruptly, wiping his hands on his jeans. You snort, incredulous.

“Did I just render Eddie Munson speechless?”

“Shut up,” he laughs, walking toward you. “I’ve just never seen you ask anyone for help. That’s all.”

He lets you lead the way into the store room. You hold the door open for him, and push him against it when it fully closes behind him.

“What-”

“That song,” you murmur, your hands pressing into his shoulders. “KISS? ‘I Was Made For Lovin’ You’? Eddie.”

Eddie smiles, and his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth, closer to him than you’ve ever been. “I knew you’d get the hint.”

You shake your head and lean in even closer, opening your mouth just as you’re about to press it to his. “You might as well have written I want to make out with you across your chest.”

“And ruin my favorite Metallica shirt?” Eddie cocks his head and pulls back, the soft, enamored look on his face twisting your heart. “Baby, I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I am going to kiss you now, Munson, but only to shut you up.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You lay one hand to his chest and bring the other up to cup his cheek, then press your mouth to Eddie’s, who, without hesitation, brings one of his hands up to cradle the back of your neck and the other to your hip, pulling you flush against him. You take this as a sign to deepen the kiss and part your lips, touching your tongue to his. Eddie moans into you in response.

You laugh lightly, and bring the hand on his chest down to his arm, holding tight. Eddie slots one knee between your legs and you gasp, jumping back.

“Too much?”

You shake your head. “No, no, not at all.”

He grins and pulls you back in, pushing his knee up a bit and reveling in the way you whine at his touch. The two of you stand there, in the dim storeroom, pressed against one another and kissing like your lives depend on it. The light flickers once, twice, and then, from somewhere out near the bar, comes a loud thump.

As quickly as you’d started, you pull away from him, looking anywhere but his face. You check your watch.

“I should, uh…Get back to the bar.”

Eddie is breathing hard as he steps away from the door, trying as discreetly as possible to readjust his jeans. You glance down, then back to his face, your own warmer than you feel like it has ever been before.

“Sorry. About that.”

“Do not be,” he says, then huffs one last sigh, regaining his composure slowly but surely. “You go. I’ll be out in a minute.”

You nod and pull the door open. 

“Hey,” Eddie calls softly when you’ve started to step through it. You pause and glance back at him.

“Are we…?”

You start to nod, then look down at your feet. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he says. “It’s okay. Go.”

The door cuffs the back of your ankles as it closes and you wince. Groaning, you make your way back to the front of the bar. 

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

You might have been avoiding Eddie since you cornered him in the store room, but he also hasn’t gone out of his way to speak to you since then, either, so really, who’s to blame?

You have, however, been thinking about him - and his mouth, and his hands, among other things - pretty much every minute of every day since. You’re thinking about it now, as a matter of fact, as you count the drawer of cash you were supposed to have in the register a half hour ago.

Almost as if he can read your mind, Eddie waltzes over to the bar with another man, blond, about his height. They both take the stools directly in front of you. Barely able to meet your eye, Eddie holds two fingers up. “Two Bud Lights?”

You wipe your hands and grab two bottles. You uncap them, setting them in front of the guys, who thank you, then turn away and start tidying absentmindedly, trying to ignore the feel of Eddie’s gaze on you. You sneak a peek over your shoulder and Eddie blushes when your eyes meet his, clearly feeling a little caught out. Turning and leaning on the bar, you clear your throat.

“Okay,” you say.

Eddie is chatting with the friend, who came to catch their set, but he abruptly shuts up and turns to give you his full attention, his eyebrows pinched together. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll go out with you.”

He turns to look at his friend, who smirks and claps Eddie on the shoulder. “I’m just gonna…”

Eddie nods, watching him get up and walk away, before turning back to you. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Has Hell frozen over? What made you change your mind?”

“Who says I ever did?”

Eddie smiles and stands, leaning over the bar before you even realize what’s happening. He places both hands on either side of your face and pulls you to him, kissing you firmly on the mouth. You freeze for one quick moment, but then you’re kissing him back with fervor, your fingers curled around the collar of his denim vest, your mouth opening, tongue tracing his lips until they part, too.

“Oh, thank God,” he says, voice breathy, chest heaving, when you pull apart. “I was starting to think you’d never see reason.”

You smack him playfully on the chest, but you let him pull you back in for a sweeter, softer kiss. He pecks you on the nose, then the forehead, then presses his lips to yours one more time. You throw your arms across his shoulders, bring one hand up to wind in his hair. He hums and closes his eyes.

“Will you play ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ for me tonight?”

“Darling, I will play every song you ever ask me to play. Just give me 45 minutes to an hour to learn the chords.”

[masterqwertster]

38. Multiverse/meeting alternate version of self with Ashton. Maybe they meet the Ashton that didn’t see the Hishari blown up and had decent childhood? Or whatever alternate reality you prefer, really! I love all of your writings, they are so scrumptious!!!

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 74 It's funny, I had the thought that a Hishari Ashton where Efterin was the Titan blooded would be a fun Alternate to meet. Also, I thought Efterin would be blood of Rau'shan as a reason why it wasn't Ashton who's Titan of blood: it was a different Titan fragment, a slightly different ritual, so Efterin got the power and Hishari didn't blow up. However, I sort of put off actually writing anything out of curiosity if the newest episode would drop any further/more detailed Hishari lore. And damn howdy did episode 74 deliver. There actually is a Rau'shan fragment up for grabs. Efterin is, in fact, Ashton's dad. And the idea that all that Efterin did with Hishari, including its destruction and what that did to Ashton, was all Fated… whoof. But the Destiny bit of it definitely played really nicely to my thoughts on how the Alternate was going to meet Canon. So here we go!

It's an honor to be sent on this quest by his father. 

After all, there are many in Hishari who leap at the chance to fulfill the will of Efterin, Burning Heir of the Flame Emperor. And plenty of them are more powerful, more experienced, more skilled than Ashton. So for all of them to be bypassed to entrust this mission to Ashton is proof of his father’s trust, his love.

The task is simple, yet horrendously difficult: find a means to change Fate, defy Destiny.

Ashton doesn’t know why his father needs such a power. The man is primordial fire, Titan of blood, what Fate would he need to defy? The gods who originally felled the Titans are gone, locked behind the Divine Gate. Mortals are nowhere near as powerful as they were during the end days of the Age of Arcanum. What could make his Destiny anything he does not want it to be?

There's a part of Ashton that wants to ask, to know all that he can do to help his father. But he also knows that questions filled with doubt about the solidity of Efterin's power are frowned upon. Especially from someone like Ashton who should certainly know better: Efterin does not fail. His destiny is grand, set to lead the world into a new epoch.

So here Ashton is, deep below Exandria's surface, treading the depths of the Underdark, in search of a ghost of a rumor of an artifact that can bend Fate to its wielder's will.

It’s been… Ashton’s not sure how long it’s been. Time is strange without the sun and moons to mark its passing. Just the rhythm of Wild Shape, wander, Wild Shape, rest for any kind of measure of time. After all, it is safer to wander these tunnels in an unobtrusive animal form than his humanoid one.

And though he hates to admit it, Ashton is tiring, burning out, on this mission. It hurts to be failing his father, his leader, his people, but Ashton is reaching a point of near-certainty that an artifact to control Fate does not exist. Not when he has traveled this long, this far, and faced such horrors with nothing to show for it. This won’t stop Ashton from trying. But he has to admit that defeat is coming, that he needs to stop, let another continue the quest while he recuperates from the strain and toll of his journey.

As he turns his wanderings up towards the surface once again, Ashton hopes that Father will not be too disappointed in his failure. Efterin expects great things from his own heir, everyone in Hishari does, and Ashton fears he doesn’t live up to it as well as he should. Not the strongest, not the fastest, not the hardiest, not the smartest, not the wisest, not the charmingest, not anything that makes him stand out amongst his peers besides being Efterin’s son.

As Ashton contemplates his upcoming failure, he trips and falls down a hole. And finds exactly what he’s looking for.

It’s an artifact of metal and glass in the shape of a dodecahedron, silvery light gently pulsing from within it. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotizing. And he can’t stop himself from staring into its depths.

Ashton is sucked in before he knows it.

___

There is a sea of stars, a purple and silver galaxy.

Ashton isn’t standing on anything, and yet it feels like there’s solid ground beneath his feet. It’s strange and unsettling… and eerily familiar, as if he’s been here before. But Ashton knows he hasn’t. There’s no way he could forget something like this.

“Huh. Well this is new.”

Ashton whirls to see an earthkin of jade and amethyst and golden cracks and a glass-filled hole in their head. They have the kind of thick muscle and easy stance that speaks to being a martial combatant rather than a caster.

“Where are we? Who are you?” Ashton asks, missing the reassuring weight of his staff in his hands.

“Fuck if I know, though I could guess, I suppose. And that’s… complicated. Probably,” the genasi answers, stuffing their hands into their pockets.

It’s really not much of an answer. Quite honestly it’s barely an answer at all, and Ashton is going to tell them that when he notices their shirt. Notices that the blue ombre lines across the stranger’s shirt are forming the symbol of Hishari.

“Who are you?” he hisses, backing up. “I know everyone in Hishari, and we have no earthkin.”

They huff at him, seemingly unphased by his reaction.

“I told you, it’s complicated,” they say.

“Then simplify it,” Ashton demands, eyes darting around looking for anything that isn’t this– this imposter, or more stars, but no dice.

They let out a put upon groan. 

“Fine. But it’s fucking weird and probably still won’t make a lot of sense, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“This hole in my head is filled with really fucking weird magic that makes me dream about other iterations of my life. Until now, I’ve always been in the role of the other Ashton when I dream. This is the first time I’ve actually spoken with one of my alternates.”

Ashton doesn’t– That can’t be right. Ashton’s not– The genasi can’t be him. Especially one of earth. Father brought back from the Shattered Teeth fire, the gift of Rau’shan, not the gift of earth from Ka’Mort. There’s just no way–

…But Ashton can see the shape of his face in the earthkin, hear the timbre of his voice in theirs. They even have the same heterochromatic eyes of right green and left blue (though the pupil of the other's left eye is milky). 

However, the earthkin is taller, broader than Ashton’s own mixed blood of elf and aasimar make him. Broader he can understand. Ashton is a druid, a caster, his strength is in his magic, and by all appearances, the genasi is a physical fighter, relying on the strength of their body. But taller? If they truly are another version of Ashton, that doesn’t make much sense. Not when there’s no reason for Ashton’s height to be stunted. His mother isn’t particularly tall, and even his father wasn’t very tall before–

–before taking in Rau’shan’s Spark.

The adults recount it that Efterin had been of a modest size before, five and a half feet tall or something, and now he towered over most, closer to seven feet tall than six (Ashton can’t remember a time when his father wasn’t significantly taller than him). And it was all thanks to the Titan’s power in his veins. And no one in Hishari would dare deny their Titan of blood the food and nutrients needed to grow and sustain himself.

So that couldn’t be it, could it? No fragment of Ka’Mort’s power has been found, and many from Hishari have traveled to the Shattered Teeth, searching for one.

Yet Ashton has to ask. If there’s a way to follow in his father’s footsteps, to not be a disappointment of an heir to him, then he has to know.

“Are you– You’re a Titan of blood?” Ashton asks with trepidation.

“...Yeah. Whatever the fuck that actually means,” they say with a shrug.

“What?” Ashton gapes. How could they not know what it means to be a Titan of blood? Not have pride in the achievement of Hishari that they are?

Another shrug. “Hishari blew up when they made me a Titan of blood. And I was just a little kid when it happened, can barely remember anything about it, really. Got shunted out near Bassuras, which is in Marquet, afterwards. Didn’t even know about the Titan shit until maybe a week ago. So I know fuck all about Hishari and what they thought they were doing.”

Ashton gapes some more, words escaping him. For the effort to be made, to have the success, only to leave their Titan of blood alone and unknowing of what they are… It's wrong.

"...I’m sorry they failed you," Ashton finally says. It will change nothing for this Heir to Ka'Mort, but he still wants to express his sorrow for what they should have had.

A pensive look comes over their face.

"I– Thanks, I guess. Although according to that fucking tree, shit worked out 'as it was Fated to be.'"

Ashton can hear the heavy derision with which the Titan blooded speaks of Fate and this tree. And it tweaks the memory of the story of how Efterin found the Spark of Rau’shan: he traveled far and wide across Exandria, before he found the Great Tree of Atrophy, Evontra'vir. And upon gaining Evontra'vir's favor, he was guided to the Spark and his Destiny.

"You-you know where to find Evontra'vir?" Ashton asks, breathlessly hopeful. 

Despite his father’s desire for a fragment of Ka’Mort to be found, to bring more Primordial power into the world, he never did return to Evontra'vir to seek guidance again. And all who were granted the knowledge of where to find the Great Tree of Atrophy to seek its guidance failed to return with a fragment. If they returned at all. But if this other Ashton could be Titan blooded, surely Ashton himself would succeed where all the others had failed. All he needed was to know where to go.

They give him a searching look before answering, "Kalutha. Down in the big pit between three mountains. Fucker's going to tell you that it's your Fate to be there. I'd ignore that shit if I were you. Make your own path."

Ashton fists his hands in the fabric of his pants, just to maintain his cool instead of bouncing around with the excitement of what he now has the means to achieve.

"That’s what I intend to do," he replies with a vicious grin.

"Good," Ashton, Heir of Ka’Mort purrs.

___

Suddenly Ashton is back in the tunnels of the Underdark, the artifact in his hands, still gently pulsing with silver light… much like the glass in Ka’Mort’s Heir's head.

They tuck the artifact into their bag and smile to themself.

They have all they need for their own great Destiny. One to rival even their father's.

[lampmanliveblogs]

Pictured: Me, writing this liveblog late at night when I have work the next day.

If you look down at the lower right corner, you’ll find the time and it’s nine past eleven? In the forenoon? Talk about a sleep-in!

Staying in the lower right corner, we also find what might be Luz’ handle on this universe’s equivalent of twitter or X or whatever it’s called. She’s called FriendofOwlsandTitans.

Moving over to the left part of the screen, we find a The Good Witch Azura fanfic. Pfft, only one? I’ve got like twenty unfinished fanfics lying around my computer, get on my level.

Luz is also a gamer, as she’s got the alternate universe version of Hollow Knight, something called Hades, which I’m sure is a reference to something, and Totally Original Farming Game Moonfarm Valley.

Say. who do you think is Luz’ favorite bachelor/bachelorette in Stardew Valley? Oh wait, silly question, it’s Abigail. Who’s her second favorite then? I’m thinking… maybe Sebastian?

”Dear Diary. All I ever wanted was to be good at something. To be around people who also liked that something. And when I found the Demon Realm, I thought ’wow, I found it!’I can learn magic, I can be a witch! I won’t be the dummy in the principal’s office anymore.’ But I messed up too much a-and put everyone in danger.”

I-I’m sorry, I need a minute-

…

When I sat down, I was expecting to watch a sad cartoon child, not a reflection of myself. Did someone swap my computer screen for a mirror?

Shit… this hits a little too close to home for comfort, jeez Luise. ”All I ever wanted was to be good at something, to be around people who also liked that something.”  No, that’s not me, nu-uh. It ain’t me, it ain’t me.

And after I just got done plugging my fanfics too… bloody hell’s bells…

Insert that one ”I’m in this picture and I don’t like it” meme.

”So… I know what I have to do now.”

Wait, what are you talking about now Luz? Do what? Luz, what are you planning here? Tell me right this instance, young lady!

And so does arrive the Spirit’s Eve. Check out the maze and see if you can find the Golden Pumpkin at the end!

Let’s see… I spy with my little eye… what looks like Jacob Hopkins (ugh) over by the round stage. Also by the round stage, but a wise distance away from the insane creep is what I think are the two guys Luz met in school. Next to them, sitting on the stairs of the big building are, um… decorations…? Either that or some of the shadow people from RWBY volume 1.

Next to one of the stands on the lower left side we find the principal from episode one, season one. It doesn't look like the snakebite had any lasting effects, that’s nice to see. Near the middle of the screen we find what looks like young Willy Wonka going trick-or-treating. By the hale bales next to the tractor we find someone who gives me Mickelina Räv vibes. Just throw on a yellow dress to complete the look.

Up on the tractor wagon itself we have what looks like Masha. And that could be the mom and daughter who got spooked by Philip earlier in the episode as well.

Finally, in the upper right corner of the street, we find Frybo talking to the steak from Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared 5. Now THERE is a cursed crossover idea.

What kind monster truck car is Camila driving that the top of the wheels reach Luz’ waist?

…

And wait a minute! Go back a few seconds! Were all of the kids squeezed into the backseat? All five of them?

Amity exits first, followed by Willow, meaning Amity must’ve been sitting in Willow’s lap. Then comes Hunter, followed by Gus, meaning Hunter was sitting in Gus’ lap, which really should’ve been the other way around considering Hunter’s bigger than Gus. Either that, or Hunter got the middle seat to himself and Gus sat in Luz’ lap, since she exits last.

Why couldn’t one of the kids be sat in the front passenger seat? Couldn’t Hunter have used his Oldest Brother privilege to get the front seat?  That’s like on of the few nice privileges we have!

Also, I guess Vee didn’t come along. On one hand, staying at home instead of going to any form of activity involving a mass of people is super valid and cool. On the other, should the rotten mayonnaise of a man that is Philip rear his ugly head (or what constitutes a head in his current state), it might’ve been useful to have someone with the ability to drain magic.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Pillars of Salt and pillars of sand: Chapter 2: Alternatives

WARNINGS FOR READING: This fanfiction is dark. It will contain themes as: Non-con, dub-con, dom/sub themes, murder, torture, blood, graphic descriptions of sex, graphic descriptions of murder and graphic description of torture. As well as animal abuse, war crimes, genocide, massmurder, sadism, power-abuse and incestious relationships. Warnings will be updated as the fic goes on.

This is chapter two. For chapter one, please either refer to my masterlist or click here.

Time ticks by, yet is frozen. You stand in the big hall at Storm’s end. Your brother, Lucerys, is on the stone floor. Aemond mutilated his face beyond repair, having taken both his eyes. He showed you the two eyeballs before putting them back into a small sapphire entrusted box.

You need to keep him occupied as long as possible. Who knows, mayhaps that your mother or Daemon will come looking for you and Luc. You hope so, at least. ‘’How long were you planning this, Uncle?’’ You ask, your voice has a sharp edge that cuts right through his smugness.

He does not humor you by telling you when he started planning all of this. ‘’You read too many books, my dear niece. Do you think I will reveal my masterplan to you, now that I’ve thought I’ve won?’’ You pretend to look defeated, but you feel victorious. He has already forgotten about his threat to what he will do if you won’t bend the knee to his older brother.

You must keep him going. You must. The realm’s delight will find you or the rogue prince. And Aemond can not fight two dragons alone. ‘’You are a villain. Just look at how you hurt my brother!’’ You spat. Lucerys is very quiet when Aemond glares at him, daring him to speak. Luc opens his mouth, and before he can utter a word, Aemond has buried his right fist into his stomach, causing Lucerys to double over in pain, clutching himself. You will make him pay for that.

Aemond grins as Lucerys weakly moans. ‘’Not a single word, little bastard. Or I’ll take your tongue as well. Your sister will make choices for you for now on. You are both my prisoners. You will both listen and obey me. When I wish it, you two will both meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries yet to come.’�� You scowl, unbecoming perhaps but justified. You think about stealing Aemond’s dagger from him, but what does that achieve? He has the Storm’s end guard. He has a sword, even if you somehow made it out alive, to your dragon, he would chase you and Vhagar would kill you both.

The prince has a pleased shimmer in his one good eye when he smugly smiles at you and your brother as his captives.

‘’Do not scowl. It is unbecoming of a lady of your high status…Although, your ancestry is a complicated one, isn’t it, Lady Strong?’’ He refers to Harwin again. Is that all his little almond-shaped brain can think of? Your natural origins?

You fake a smile, a handy skill you mastered well over the years. Insults like these once made you mad. Now they do you nothing. ‘’You think you hurt me with that? You think you insult me with that, Aemond? You know nothing of love. My parents loved each other, yours? Yours hated each other.’’ You notice his effort into composing his face, but his breath quickens as he turns.

It is your turn to chuckle. Aemond glares. ‘’You asked before how long ago I planned this. I have been here for a few days. Cassandra informed me that you were a friend to Lady Floris. So, I traded Cassandra in for Floris, forced her to write that letter, and simply waited for whenever you were stupid enough to come alone.’’ He says.

When he mentions her name, Floris softly lifts her head, but you notice the tears falling down her cheeks. Tears full of regret and sorrow. You do not even notice you are crying again as well until you wipe your own tears away. Lucerys needs you to be strong. The realm needs you to be strong.

You do feel stupid. You should have listened more to Daemon’s lessons, as well as your mothers. ‘’Everyone is your friend…Until their friend can be someone better.’’ You will never forget that lesson.

You force yourself to be brave no matter the cost. No matter how hard Aemond will take revenge. No matter how much abuse you will suffer. You won't break. You are the Princess Maella of house Targaryen. ‘’I am not alone, Aemond. Justyce is with me, and she has an appetite for one-eyed bastards.’’ You tell him.

He grins. ‘’Justyce, that little lizard is no match for Vhagar. Especially not since my dearest dragon is in an awfully murderous mood. Just ask your brother.’’ Lucerys is not looking at anything anymore, not that he can. But he lowers his head when he hears Aemond speak those words. Aemond smirks, condescending. ‘’It is all right, my pet. You are allowed to speak now. Tell your sweet sister what my dragon did today.’’ You become seething when he refers to Luc as his ‘’pet’’.

Lucerys's hands start shaking. You are unable to help yourself and reach out to your brother. The moment your fingers lay on his hands, he calms. You make your voice a soft sush, hushing him the way your mother would before rocking you both to sleep. ‘’You can tell me. You will always be my brother. No matter what happened, He can steal your eyes, take our lives, strip us of our titles, but that won't change a damn thing. You hear me?’’ You force his chin up where blood is drying. Lucerys searches for you before letting himself fall into your arms, sobbing on your shoulders with fast, heartbreaking sobs that make you more determined to hurt Aemond every time.

Luc nods. You smile at him, kissing his forehead lovingly. You mutter that he will be safe. He will be. Aemond has lost his rare patience and advances. He groans at Luc. ‘’Tell her, or I will cut her hair as well.’’

Your hair is a disgrace, according to many. Yet you would not want to live without it. Lucerys starts telling the story, and you listen when he takes sharp breaths, and you see that he relives it. ‘’I ran. He asked me to give him my eyes. I ran. He caught up with me. With Vhagar.’’ Lucerys briefly stops to reach out for your fingers, but he can't find you anymore on his own. He tears up. You clutch his hands.

He continues telling. ‘’Arrax felt threatened and breathed fire at her. I thought it was going to melt her for a moment. It accomplished nothing.’’

Aemond smirks. ‘’Continue.’’

Luc starts to breathe faster and faster, and you worriedly look around the room for help. No one helps you. Aemond sinks next to luc before slapping him across his face. You grab Aemond's coat in an angry moment, but he simply pushes you back on the ground. Luc stares into the distance with his stitched eyes. He cries. ‘’Vhagar and Aemond cornered me. Aemond swore on his mother's life that he would roast me the way a hungry peasant roasts a rat in King's Landing. He gave me his word. I was forced to get off from Ar-Arrex back…’’ His voice breaks as you Hush him by rubbing his back. ‘’Aemond reminded me I used to bully him for not having a dragon. He told me I would finally feel the way he did all those years. I watched as Vhagar advanced on Arrax. I had to chain Arrax down.’’ He rattles nervously as to what you will think of this.

You glare at Aemond. He grins, smirking. ‘’Arrax was ripped to pieces by Vhagar. After that, Aemond made me collect the scales. For every piece that missed, I would get a beating.’’ Your poor brother suffered so much.

You hug him, shielding him from the world with your body. You will not let Aemond hurt him again. Which means complying and coming back with him to King's Landing and to bend the knee to Aegon. Luc whispers. ‘’He took my eyes after, cutting into me with a laugh. He was laughing the entire time.’’ You shield your brother closer, and tighter after that keeping your eyes on Aemond.

Aemond hears it perfectly however. ‘’The sound of my enemies crying makes me just overwhelms me with joy.’’’ He muses. ‘’Trust me, Luc. You, too, were happy when you took my eye. Remember? I remember you smirking, little bastard.’’ He prepares himself to give Luc another kick but this time you take the blow for your brother, shielding him. Aemond chuckles amused. ‘’I always knew you liked it dirty and rough.’’ He groans in your earshell. You spit at his face.

He shrugs. ‘’What will it be, little Lady Strong? Shall I ask the Baratheons for a good seasonal mix before handing you both to my dragon, or will you comply and bend the knee to my brother, the rightful king of the Seven kingdoms?’’ You have no choice.

You never had any. You cradle lucs hair as he spells something with his lips. You read it. Let me die.

You will not let him. You will not fail him again. You begin to cry, covering your mouth with your hands. ‘’We will come to King's Landing.’’ You say between sobs, your voice a mess.

Aemond smiles, victorious and pleased. ‘’Good girl. You will fly on Justyce. I take Vhagar. If you try anything funny, I will drop your bastard brother miles from the ground and just watch as he bursts open as a ripe juicy melon from Dorne and his blood and remains scattered everywhere.’’ He promises and you know that if need be and you mess up, the tiniest slip up, he will throw your brother from his dragon.

You help Lucerys stand. Aemond takes him from you, dragging him with him to the courtyard. You follow close behind as well as Floris. You are shocked. Happy even. But she is not here for you.

She is here for her husband to be. ‘’A-Aemond. You have what you wanted. Will you annul our engagement? We've given you the princess.’’ She says as if you were hers to give away.

You mount Justyce with a ugly scowl. ‘’That's a lady; and I will not make that decision on a whim.’’ Aemond tells her when coming closer to her. ‘’You are lucky to be considered for my hand. You know how many girls would kill to be in your position?’’ He asks her.

You sigh. ‘’Not one, if they knew what I know.’’ You hate yourself for liking that insult. You hate that she is sharp and witty and beautiful. She was your best friend. And she drove a dagger in your back.

Aemond puts luc on Vhagar as he turns on Floris and you can see he is close to teaching her a lesson. ‘’You can't hit me yet. I am not your wife.’’ She snugly replies.

He leans in. ‘’Yet.’’

He leaves her, stunned and nailed to the ground before climbing on his dragon with your blinded brother. He waits for you to go first. So you do; you take off to King's landing, the reins stinging in your hands.

They do not sting as heavy... As the tears in your eyes And the knives in your heart.

[cloudsandcrescents]

What’s your publishing schedule looking like?

That’s a great question. I have no clue (kidding but also not?)

Kidding…not kidding lol…send help pls. But seriously.

Rough Schedule (As it Stands)

I’m currently working on a follow up to Relinquish that sort of fell by the wayside. That is nearly done (75-80%) and it will be up before the end of week (ideally today or tomorrow). This will just be added as a second chapter to the original.

Leather Black I’m actually planning to post more frequently on because that’s meant to be a short series similar to how I did Empty Rooms. I’m planning to resume updates for that this week/weekend with weekly updates but will ideally be more like every 2-3 days depending on my schedule. I really like this one so I’m eager to update for it but I think I just started tackling it at a time where there was a lot going on in my personal life that messed up my schedule quite a bit.

After Hours is reaching its end with maybe another 2-3 chapters (the last likely being an epilogue) so I’m trying to wrap it up by getting back to (at minimum) a biweekly update schedule. Max I’m giving myself to finish is through end of January since that’s around when I first started it. Should have an update to this by the end of next week.

Similar to After Hours, I intend to wrap up Promise Me very soon as well with, likely, another 2-3 chapters. The alternating updates really worked well for me as I would just toggle between which one was the previously updated fic. (Unrelated) Promise Me I’ve actually been debating on because I already set the layout for a sequel in my head. I was thinking about whether I wanted to just keep it going or create a separate fic for it and right now I feel like the latter so we’re surprisingly wrapping that up soon. Should have an update on this in about two weeks if not sooner.

I want to lighten the load before I tackle anything further so I think this is the point where I kind of stop the addition of any new fics until I get a better handle on my current WIP. That said, I most likely won’t be updating Hour of Need or When We Serve until I finish After Hours and Promise Me. Encore is there as well though I’m feeling a little iffy on whether or not I want to come back to that but we’ll see. HoN and WWS will likely follow the pattern of alternating biweekly or even weekly updates between the two once After Hours and Promise Me are done. We’re going to give these a hopeful return in early February but may come sooner.

I’ve gotten several Tumblr requests in my asks that I do see and will definitely get too. I have a tendency to overload myself and I’m very susceptible to burnout so those are just a little behind but I’m hoping to add a few into my update schedule resuming in Mid-Jan/Early-Feb if not sooner once I wrap up Leather Black and my other two bigger fics.

As always, thank you everyone for being so patient with me. I hope that I’m fortunate enough where I can eventually just write for a living and just play with words all day. Until then, I most resume my normal day to day life which isn’t nearly as exciting but keeps me equally busy. I write most of my fics on my phone but also try to sit at my computer to write which tends to motivate me more. Unfortunately, my computer has been inoperable for a few months now as I’ll likely need to replace the CPU I’m pretty sure I broke lol. It’s had to take a backseat to a few other things but I’m planning to get a replacement in mid January and hopefully that’ll help with a lot with my productivity.

I hope this provides anyone looking for their particular favorite of my works, a bit of relief knowing that updates are coming soon. Thank you all for being the best part of getting to do this, truly. 🩵

[specialagentartemis]

A Catalogue of Longfics I Want (Plan?) To Write

Only ideas I think would be multiple chapters and 10k+ words; doesn’t even include oneshots like Sisko Negotiates Space NAGPRA or Picard Goes To An Archaeology Conference or Teen Ratthi Angsts About Going To College or The Crew Of The Hermes Gets Murdered And Their Brains Scooped Out.

Ranked from 1 🌱 = this is just daydreams and vibes, to 5 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 = I have a 10-page outline with every plot beat and thematic parallel written out.

A * means that I’ve actually posted several chapters to AO3 already

Wolf 359

The Last Days of the Lovelace Administration 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 Lovelace tells Minkowski what happened on her mission. Fully canon compliantly tragic. Everyone dies. Frame narrative. Lovelace-centric.

*To Stand Together Against Fate (Lambert Week fic) 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 An AU that spun off Zach Valenti’s “Lambert Week” streams. Lovelace and Lambert fight fate and REFUSE to let anyone die. The timeline gets slippy and things start getting weird. Lovelace won’t let a little thing like temporal causality hurt her crew though.

*Change the Rules 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 Minkowski, Eiffel, and Hilbert do Box 953.

The Tiamat Horror 🌱🌱🌱 Zhang’s mission.

—

The Murderbot Diaries

Anthropology fic 🌱🌱🌱 Murderbot and Thiago go to a Corporation Rim mine where the miners are trying to unionize and strike, to do linguistic anthropology. They get more than they bargained for. Featuring SecUnit OCs, original filk, worker solidarity, and speculative linguistics.

*Home Again 🌱🌱🌱 The PresAux crew are home after their whole survey ordeal… but changed by the experience. Not the same people they were, and they don’t fit quite the same way. Augh I want to finish this but I’m kinda stuck on some of the chapters

Volescu backstory fic 🌱🌱🌱🌱 What if he was a political refugee and went through Some Shit. Would that be fucked up or what.

Pin-Lee backstory fic 🌱🌱🌱 Her CCC-esque service year before college.

Overse backstory fic 🌱🌱🌱🌱 Moved from a CR station to Preservation as a child. This causes some feelings.

Pin-Lee Exit Strategy POV 🌱🌱🌱🌱 As de facto leader here she was having a fucking Time.

Consuela Makeba’s story 🌱🌱🌱 THE EPIC OF HOW PRESERVATION WAS FOUNDED 300 YEARS AGO!!

The murder mystery one I started in an AUpril snip and went actually this is a banger concept 🌱 No idea where to go from here but it was a cool idea

—

Greek Epics And Mythology

Polites perspective on the Odyssey 🌱🌱 He gets to survive actually because honestly. Give one of Odysseus’s men a break. Something about how the men who weren’t kings and demigods and great remembered heroes still went Thru This Shit too. Epic poem in dactylic hexameter because I hate myself apparently

Odysseus adopts Cassandra 🌱🌱🌱 based on a tumblr post hell if I can find again. Clever use of Odysseus calling himself “Nobody”. Means he found a way to hear her prophecies and believe them, so she cuts a deal—she gets him home in 3 months rather than 10 years on the promise that if she does so he’ll adopt her as a legitimate daughter and princess of Ithaca. Very meta. In the format of a classic Sophoclean or Euripidean play.

Brithawon goes with Nestor to the Trojan War, has a bad time 🌱 I just think it would be fun

—

Star Trek

Kira is upset about Cardassian archaeologists on Bajor 🌱🌱 Sooooo much potential here

Sarina Douglas becomes an advocate for genetically engineered people’s rights 🌱 Here too!!!

—

Other

‘Emergence’ (Noel/Leon in 10th century Chaco Canyon) 🌱🌱🌱 An alternate ending to the Time Trap! series. No I never read the real ending that’s irrelevant. Noel and Leon fuck in this one. Also there is political intrigue regarding a Chaco elite marriage

The Tiamat Horror… 2! Primordial Deep version! (Sirena Halcyon and the 10 years she spent trapped in an underwater ocean research station) 🌱🌱🌱🌱 God!!! What was she DOING for ten years stuck in the place where her one surviving colleague killed all the rest of them! Featuring cuddling, horrifying transformations, and cannibalism.

[brzatto]

Hello! I'm the person who wrote the dissertation-length comment on chapter 2 of BCM. My essay of a comment probably speaks for itself but I really love your writing. I'm still thinking about your fic over a week later and reread your reply to my comment over and over. It took me a full evening to read chapter 2 because I would read a part, sit and think about it, then move to the next part. Even though the chapter was so long I was scared with each paragraph that it was going to end, I didn't want to stop reading. The ending was really satisfying, if the fic ended there it would be a lovely ending, but like I said in my original comment I'm so happy there's more to come. The ominous reply from you saying you might scrap what you've written and rewrite the ending nudged me to message you. I really hope you don't scrap what you've written so far! Even if it's not the direction you want the fic to go now, I think everyone would love to see the alternate ending if you're happy to share it in the event you don't use it for the fic. Kind of a "BCM 0.5" if you will. Everyone is begging for the porny carmrich writing so thought I'd throw my hat in the ring and beg for the alt. ending of BCM. xD

Also thank you for leaving such a long reply to my comment! I really liked hearing your thoughts about Carmy and Richie and would love to hear more about your writing process. Your fic was the first The Bear fic I ever read and it hasn't left my mind since I first read it back in December last year.

Sorry for another really long message I can't seem to stop typing once I start. xD

(p.s. you should post the carmrich pwp huhuhuhuhu)

of course i remember you! i always remember repeat commenters and i distinctly remember being at work when i got the email for the first comment you left me on bcm, it was a really lovely comment and it made my entire night.

i say this often to a lot of commenters but it really does mean so much to me that you enjoy my writing and it has that sort of effect on you!!! like more than you’ll ever know. i can count the number of times i’ve actually published works on ao3 on two hands and i’ve always gravitated towards rarepairs with nicher audiences in almost every fandom i’ve been in so the type of enthusiasm i’ve received so far with bcm is really genuinely touching. i always try my best to reciprocate the energy given to me in the comments i get but longer ones make me especially happy because i loooove discussing character analysis and dynamics with people and i’m always eager to know how other people interpret my characters and my writing! thanks for how much thought you put into all of your comments, i always look forward to reading what you have to say <3

as for the ending of bcm i don’t actually think i’ll fully be scrapping it, it’ll still end the same general way that i had in mind but i’ll probably end up rewriting/reworking it because a big chunk of the fic leading up to it is still unwritten and by the time i actually get close to the ending it probably won’t make much sense as it is currently word for word. i don’t normally write in chronological order, i write scenes out as they come to me (i usually envision climactic scenes very visually in my head and then write them out first lol) and then fill in the gaps/flesh out the storyline as i go. but since i got the idea for this fic and planned it out back before s2 came out and now s2 is out and canon’s been vastly expanded i’ll probably end up also borrowing some elements from s2 for my own storyline purposes just because if i’m being fully honest… i actually can’t tell you what ch3 of bcm and onwards is going to be like. i have vague notions of major plot points and the direction i want the story to take and fragments of later scenes in my docs but even as it stands now uncompleted bcm is the longest thing i’ve ever written (it’s 49k on ao3 and 60k in my docs) like… ever. i’m not used to finishing fics at all much less writing long fics (if bcm would count as one) so this is all very much new territory for me but everyone’s support and encouraging really helps keep me engaged and on track! including yours 🤍 in the event that the ending does drastically depart from what i’ve originally envisioned for it i probably will upload the alt ending separately. i’ve also sort of toyed with the idea of writing some scenes out from richie’s pov but if anything that’ll be something that comes much much later.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Raven why your alternative scenarios make me go damn I wish this actually happened 😭

[Referencing this post!]

You get a ghost slap, and you get a ghost slap, and YOU get a ghost slap! Ghost slaps for everyone— 😌

I wanted to make the scenarios flow well in the natural course of Ghost Marriage’s story! I think the most interesting part for me to write was the ending, because not only does it finish on a strong note that leads into Ace’s big speech, but it gives Malleus a moment to stand out without relying so much on his “loneliness” or being generally overpowered. Instead, his scene expands upon the canon reason why he cannot propose to begin with: he has a duty to his own country and its people. I incorporated elements of Maleficent’s entrance from Sleeping Beauty, as well as the concept of “blessing” a child; I thought these would be good callbacks!

I think that Malleus would be able to relate to Eliza, but in a very… ominous way. Eliza appears to have died young, so she doesn’t yet have a grasp of her responsibilities as royalty. She still holds very naive expectations about love and about the world. Meanwhile, Malleus has lived long enough to see past all of that, and he has the grace to put others before his personal feelings, even if that brings him a sense of loneliness from being “at the top”. But at least his people are alive and well because of his sacrifices. Looking at Eliza, Malleus sees another path he could have taken. If he were to be selfish, would his people suffer the same fate as hers have? It’s a quiet, unspoken fear that tempers his rage and makes it icy cold when he takes the slap--because Malleus knows he’s right. Eliza also knows he’s right, but she won’t admit it, because the truth makes her uncomfortable... and her happy ending is SO close. That was my thought process behind the lecture he gives her.

It would have been easy to let Malleus save the day, but I avoided that and allowed him to baton pass his opportunity to Ace. After all, Ace is the event SSR, not Malleus--and I think it works on a character level too. Since when has Malleus (or most of the NRC boys, really) cared enough about his classmates to save them out of the goodness of his heart? He’s mainly there seeking to be amused. It also fits Malleus’s “final boss” vibes, letting others do his dirty work for him while he sits back and watches.

I don’t think Malleus would have been able to talk some sense into Eliza as well as Ace can, either. Malleus can lecture Eliza all day about how irresponsible she is, but in the end, it’s the common man, Ace, who shatters her beliefs about the “perfect prince” and “true love”. 

Not gonna lie, I, too, wish this had happened 🤣 Not that there was anything wrong with the original Ghost Bride due to the omission of Malleus and the other characters, but I feel like Malleus really needs more moments that show him actually acting like a leader instead of being TOLD that he is.

[insecateur]

here's a first little trivia post about slawcs. this one will cover origins, inspiration, and background from the pre-rewrite era. (consequently it will be entirely about og slawcs and won't speak of the spin-offs either)

this is mostly for myself and probably like 3 people but i think it'll be therapeutic to write and i like reading about other people's writing and ideas so maybe you do, too! if so, enjoy!

origins

a young man sits at his computer. it just so happens that today, the 30th of october, 2013, is the day he set out to write some angst apparently:

i am so very sad that i don't have any archives of the conversations i was absolutely having back then on skype (ough) about writing this. i did find some old info on my old pokémon blog, so here's what i can recall to the best of my abilities:

i wanted to write angst, apparently because the angst i wanted wasn't being written by others. which is hilarious considering i'm told that as it stands A LOT of prfr fics involve either party dying, but you do have to consider that this was very early on. also it seems people kill lysandre usually? truly the special flavor here is that lysandre doesn't die.

back then, i hadn't published any fic in 3-4 years, hadn't written in 2 years, and had never published anything written in english ever. i had one incomplete english fic wip that only one person other than me had ever seen and that was it. og slawcs was my first foray in publishing in english (fic-wise and, really, story-wise, unless you count my webcomic i suppose.) i had an ao3 account since early 2013; i have No clue why, but it worked out, i guess!

og slawcs was originally a one-shot. i was unsure about this for a while but i found the original post from my old blog that confirms it:

(please forgive my cringiness i was almost a decade younger, extremely socially anxious, and also it was my first time publishing in english)

i have been told that the first chapter reads like it can stand on its own, well there's why!

the original title was Perfect World. i have always disliked it. the long and short of it is that i got to the new work ao3 page, realized i needed a title, and improvised. i have NO idea why "improvising" meant "using a title inspired by a shipname i already didn't like at the time" but it did. i actually never used the actual title to refer to the fic back then; i always called it "sad fic" or "the sad fic." a silly little codename was better than the actual name i gave my fic apparently. nobody calls it that anymore, me included, and the only trace i have left of it is that my slawcs playlist is still called "sad fic" to this day...

the fic was relatively popular in prfr circles at the time. i was actually surprised looking through my old tag for it to find so many people sending me asks about it... this was so long ago and ended so sourly for me (the pokémon blog, not the fic specifically) that i sometimes tend to think i exaggerate how much feedback i got back then but i didn't apparently. (noah even found someone on twitter like one or two weeks ago who mentioned the fic indirectly so it's also memorable i guess ?_?) which does make me feel kinda bad for disappearing for so long also orz

i almost forgot to discuss this since this isn't an aspect that really exists in the fic anymore, but very early on the fic was supposed to have two endings. (slawcs spoilers follow if you care) the actual ending i ended up writing, where lysandre accepts dialga's offer and goes back in time to sabotage his own plans, and a "status quo" ending where lysandre stays and tries to make the world he's destroyed better as best as he can pull off.

the reason why i ended up scraping the alternate ending is actually pretty straightforward: the entire point behind having two endings was that i was embarrassed by the time travel/multiverse idea. this seems so stupid to me now but back then i genuinely was like "oh no i can't have my POKÉMON FANFICTION end with the power of love and time travel fixing everything it's too cringe (cringe wasn't as much of a thing back then but it was the spirit of it) so i need to come up with a Serious, Realistic ending to compensate"

then the multiverse was made canon and THEN years later rainbow rocket happened and i was like "who cares actually. if canon can do this why can't i."

i might elaborate on the other ending in another part, we'll see.

inspiration

i have touched on this very briefly in the fic's notes (i think at the end of eclipse?) but i think it would be fun to talk about this some more, so i will!

the premise of the fic (not really a spoiler because it happens mid-chapter 1, but still,) that lysandre is "hallucinating" a dead augustine sycamore, was inspired by an old nbc heroes fic i read when i was a teen. the fic (Imaginary Friend by Fantastic Pants on FFnet) was about, you guessed it, a character hallucinating another dead character.

well, actually, it was a bit more complicated than that. for context, character A (noah bennet aka HRG, for those in the know™) thought he'd killed character B (claude rains) who was a mutant capable of becoming invisible. in the fic, fake B was very much self-aware about being imaginary, and also very much supposed to be a representation of guilt, anxiety and depression. the "twist" of the fic, of course, is that B turns out to have been alive the whole time, and fake B disappears for good when A learns this.

i haven't reread the fic in years, but it is one of the two heroes fic that have stayed with me since then even though i stopped caring about heroes midway through season 2. as you can see, the core of it is similar, though the end result and the context is very different.

in slawcs, i kept the line between haunting, hallucination, and manifestation ambiguous, because i thought it worked better that way, but for me the most important aspect was the expression of negative feelings. i'm very humbled when people tell me it resonated with them: i wrote it based on my own experience with anxiety so I've Been Through The Symptoms and i'm always glad to know it works and feels meaningful!

tl;dr if i hadn't read this angsty heroes fanfiction i might not even have gotten back into writing ever

falling out

as i said in the first section, the fic was very well-received. it was one of the first fic for the ship on ao3 (i want to say it was among the first ten? it was definitely there before the tag was even canonized) so that probably helped, to be fair. people were eager for more! the second chapter was well-received as well, posted the next month. in mid-december, i posted another fic that i've since deleted because i just didn't like it that much (it was the ball dancing one, for those who might remember.) the last post in my old tag for og slawcs was from january 2014, assuring someone i was still working on the fic.

i was! but i was also Going Through It, both in my personal life but also when it came to the fandom. i don't blame anyone for it, really; i had gotten too emotionally involved imo, and also i was starting to grow tired of tumblr and the vibes there in general. so i ended up detaching myself from everything more and more, progressively. i stopped looking at my main dashboard and stopped looking at anything related to the fandom on tumblr. i moved largely to twitter but kept posting fanart for a while. then i just left.

in 2015, i began working on a new fic unrelated to og slawcs. this fic is still on my ao3; it's the one where lysandre gets guillotined. it was partially inspired by an old fanart of mine and my then all-consuming passion for french musicals. when i decided i was going to post it, i first thought i'd also make sure i could update og slawcs as well, because i felt so bad about abandoning it even though i was still very much in the fandom. and so, in december 2015, i both posted a brand new one-shot and the 3rd chapter of og slawcs.

and then i never updated it again for 6 years.

but i did work on it! at the time i posted the original third chapter, i had actually already written the original fourth. i think i might even have had half of the fifth back then. i was sure the fifth would be the last one; then it got too long, so i cut it in half, thinking the sixth would be the last one for sure. then i kind of... gave up.

i don't remember the timeline very well because it was a few years ago and also late 2016 to mid 2017 kind of all blurs together in my mind because it was when i was first getting knee surgery and i was basically at one of the lowest points in my life, but i did keep working on the fic (on top of writing other fic) back then. i fully stopped when i reached the point where i'd have to do the game rewrite, so midway through chapter 6 (sun.) i'm not entirely sure why (apart from bad mental health obviously) i think i was just... worried i couldn't pull it off. i'd watch reference material and then be like, no this sucks actually, this is bad, i can't do this well, and it’s been so long, and nobody will care anymore, and...

then in late 2017 i entered my Yakuza Phase and took a break from pokémon xy. it was still there at the back of my mind (where it always will be at this point i think) but i was taking a vacation from it, i guess.

...until february 2021 happened, of course.

SEE YOU NEXT TIME (yes i'm ending my post on a cliffhanger)

[ikatako38]

TPWCH Fun Facts Day 12

Ever wonder how TPWCH got its title? It’s a bit of a long story!

Like I said on Day 9, the original title was The Aftermath. That is, the aftermath of Octo Expansion. But the story began to become so much more than just “What consequences arose following Octo Expansion?” It still uses that as its foundation, but it’s also a completely new story, flashing back to the time before Octo Expansion and stretching on long after it.

Still, The Aftermath remained the working title until some time before February 1, 2022 when I traumatized a well-meaning redditor with this comment:

But where did I get that exact wording? For that, we’ll have to turn to these two amazing renditions of “Ebb and Flow”:

(Tumblr doesn’t let me use timestamp links, but the timestamp you’re looking for is 5:06!)

Be sure to see the lyrics of the second video in the description!

You’ll notice that the section of Ebb and Flow played in the first version overlaps with these lyrics from the second version:

Life’s all ready

You don’t have to stay here

This place will leave you alone, alone

No one’s gonna hate you

(It’s true, I promise you)

Hangin’ by the wall or dancin’ with me

Let’s focus on the line I bolded! You can probably see where I’m going with this! I’m pretty sure that Cement City meant the song to be about general motivational stuff than the canon of the game itself, but it got me thinking. “This place will leave you alone” sounds a lot like Eight’s fears about his future after Ascending, with “this place” referring to the Surface.

But in TPWCH, Eight wasn’t left alone. Instead, this happened:

“There’s no way I’m sending you off to your new apartment alone. You’re moving in with me. I don’t want to let you out of my sight.” (TPWCH, Ch. 1)

Believe it or not, this is the single most important line in the entire fic. If this interaction hadn’t happened, Eight would have gone off to live on his own. Being one of the least savvy Octolings due to his memory loss, Eight would have been one of the first Octolings captured by the IU. Meanwhile, There’s mental state would only continue to deteriorate, especially after he gets the news of Eight’s disappearance. Both our heroes are neutralized. The IU wins.

(Maybe I should write something for this AU at some point lol)

Instead, Three and Eight end up together and have a fighting chance! And whether they succeed is for us to find out through the rest of the story!

Especially with the “Ebb and Flow” theme of the song, I started thinking about the dual nature of Eight’s experience Ascending to the Surface. It was all new and terrifying for him, but he could still hold onto the hope of finding something better than his life before. The promise of the Promised Land became Three’s promise.

At some point, an alternate, more optimistic lyric popped into my head:

This place will leave you alone, alone

This place you’ll love and call home, call home

And that’s Three’s promise. That’s his goal throughout the entire story: to provide a home for Eight, whatever that entails. And that’s why he adopts Tsuku, too. He wants to provide a home for Eight and Tsuku because he felt like he never had one growing up. And very soon, his motivation is going to shift from creating that home to protecting it.

But then… what is this place, exactly? Where is this home that Three has built for Eight and Tsuku? Is it the Surface? Inkopolis? The apartment?

The apartment might work as an answer for now, and it does stand as a strong motif of home in the series. But it’s not going to hold up forever. Without spoiling anything, the most I can tell you is that we will be leaving the apartment at the end of Part 2. And we won’t be returning until the very end of the story.

So if not the apartment, where is this elusive place we’re calling home?

What if home isn’t a place at all?

Mi hogar eres tú

Oh, yes. You didn’t really think I was going to leave out the title of the Spanish version, did you? It’s been right under your noses this whole time, and only the most observant of you bilingual readers out there might have picked up on it! The Spanish title isn’t a translation at all, but rather a complement. It completes the title.

Este lugar que llamamos hogar - Mi hogar eres tú

This Place We Called Home - My Home is You

And if Eight’s “this place” is Three, and Three’s “this place” is Eight, it gives a whole new meaning to the line:

This place you’ll love and call home.

I’ll leave you all off on these two lines from Chapter 1. The first one’s Eight, and the second one is Three:

“I love here, you know.”

“Maybe someday you can call it home”

[Part 2 of this post out tomorrow!]

[morallygay]

stop saying simp if youre not black

Short answer I’m writing now after writing everything below: no. Look i have unyielding principles and my principles don’t agree that there’s something wrong with me using ‘simp’ in this way.

Hmm. I know this isn’t a simple subject, which is why I don’t think it’s that simple. Does this makes sense. Firstly yes I’m not black. Now onto what I think. I know it starts badly I didn’t write this linearly but promise to read this and the last paragraph before saying anything. The middle ones aren’t necessary tbh. The term “simp” is evolving like any other word and this meaning is here to stay. Like objectively. Whether you or I like it or not. I would gladly use it to mean ‘a man who is particularly nice and a yes-man to a woman with an ulterior motive of gaining sexual favors’, but that’s just not what it means anymore, or not use it at all anyway it if it were a misappropriation of a black term, but from my understanding it’s a term like “babygirl” or “slay” or many more. “babygirl” also originally came from aave and wasn’t used the same way. What makes it different? Why are some terms okay to say regardless of where they originated from, but others are appropriating, seemingly arbitrarily? And it’s a quality of the word itself and not depending on how it’s used? I promise I won’t bite, if you’re on anon it’s also hard to know if you’re saying this while black yourself or just heard simp came from aave and executed a command about it. And at the same time 2 different black ppl will have different opinions, so yknow..

I considered going and changing it but. To what. And why. “[laios] fans” doesn’t mean the same thing. I mean ppl who are attracted to him. Let’s say that distinction is particularly important to me bc I’m aspec. There’s no equivalent term. And of course that alone isn’t any reason to appropriate a term lol, but my point is that that’s not the case. I’m sure you can understand why it’s frustrating to be asked to not say a word and you don’t understand why and people won’t tell you or will tell you but now you’re even less convinced and you don’t have any synonym. Also here comes an extra complex layer: there was toxic masculinity to be found in the usage of the term since the beginning. And if there’s one thing I won’t stand for it’s defending bigotry by calling it inherently part of a culture. It’s both really disrespectful to the culture (especially when you confuse culture and ethnicity) and excusing bigotry. Have you heard of “no simp september”? I’m looking at it right now since I’m reading on the origin and evolution of the term “simp”, and it’s pretty disgusting. Personally I don’t mind this evolution of the term in the way I’m using it, because the alternative is an inherently misogynistic (+toxic masculinity) term. (to clarify, a third meaning, to make fun of a man for being nice to or/and liking a woman, not the one I talked about in the first paragraph bc like I said that meaning is basically extinct)

Like to go all logic like an ancient greek philosopher: Either meaning 1 is used (how I’m using it) or meaning 2 (the one at the end of last paragraph). If meaning 1 then imo it’s a term like “babygirl” & co. and not appropriation. —Actually scratch the greek philosophy logic the more i think about this the less i believe it makes any sense to say “don’t say simp if you’re not black”. There’s nothing historically racially/culturally significant to this term. There’s no reason for it not being naturally shared and entering the general lexicon like any other term in the history of humanity. All words have to originate somewhere you know. It’s obviously good to know that it came from aave, and that should be acknowledged, duh, but to say that non-black ppl can’t use it purely because it came from aave is just stupid. I’m not a proponent of “we should all be as separate as possible and do our best to never interact and share anything. this is supposed to be good btw” actually.

Also I’m gonna be real with you I’m very liberal with what things people deem “cultural appropriation” (not that cultural appropriation doesn’t exist, i mean with what ppl deem it), and especially when it comes to linguistics i feel pretty confident that my understanding is better than the average person’s. So if it helps lol dw it has nothing to do with anti-blackness i just don’t respect the “purity of culture” in general (with nuance and not as an absolute of course). I do genuinely think there’s nothing inherently wrong or anti-black with a non-black person using “simp”, so it would be disrespectful and dishonest to you and myself and everyone to fakely apologize and change it. If you want to reply (feel free to message me) I’ll definitely read what you have to say but I don’t feel like arguing sorry. Unfollow me if you want, that’s definitely one of my top 3 cancellable opinions in this current atmosphere. Also I’m tired now so. Press post

[dollfaceksj]

Hey Clover

First of all I would like to say welcome back, we have missed you a lot and I hope you are doing well ♥️

Regarding your proposal I wanted to ask: If the vote stays as it stands right now and the majority wants a happy ending...would you maybe (or maybe not, it's up to you) give us an alternate ending, like the original sad ending would have been for Cal, so that I can die in peace (after crying my eyes out ofc)...because I'll tell you honestly, I'm not ready to let Cal go that fast.

Thank you and have a good night (or day depending on your time zone).

(Also, check this out: 🎀ྀིྀི - a bow on a bow (I think it's very cute.))

Much Love - L

hi, thanks for ur message!

i probably won’t write it out like a chapter but i’ll definitely tell yall what i was originally planning to end it with in a separate post. thanks for enjoying cal!

thats very cute actually :o

[sapphicvampyy]

Hey guys! Here’s a message regarding the finale of Killing Eve. After viewing a Twitter Space where Phoebe Waller Bridge friend hinted at possibly crowdsourcing a different ending, I realized that we shouldn’t give up on our protests of the series finale. We can make our criticisms hit the trades, the Hollywood Reporter, Variety etc…and maybe we can even get them to honor the original book’s ending (a death fake-out or an ending where V and E live on beautifully and without any harm). It was obviously a poor ending considering the blatant Bury Your Gays trope. Queer folks deserve happy endings! Phoebe’s friend basically insinuated that if we make a big enough fuss, real change could happen. So, while the Laura Neal memes are funny, our insults and criticisms of her writing won’t get any of these potential changes made. There’s a petition to have Phoebe potentially fix the ending. If we can sign it and blow it up, we could possibly get them to reconsider changing the series finale. Thank you for your continued support for the server and your dedication to the series and its characters! Here are some links you can visit to share your frustrations! https://www.change.org/p/petition-for-phoebe-waller-bridge-to-make-an-alternative-ending-for-the-killing-eve-finale?recruiter=847698223&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=petition_dashboard&recruited_by_id=76822c90-f3cc-11e7-b95a-e596271fdc5c

Update: so her friend might be a fraud and have terrible takes but the point still stands we can do it keep signing and spreading the petition let’s see what happens maybe it could get back to Phoebe!!

We have hope guys!!!! Let’s blow this up our voices will be heard!!!!

[wing-ed-thing]

Longing (Madara x Reader)

Synopsis: Between the Senju, the Uchiha, and the village, you knew what your choice was.

Word Count: 1,365

Tags/Warnings: Tobirama isn’t a nice man but neither is Madara, Gender Neutral Reader, Senju!Reader, Tobirama’s Spouse!Reader, Cheating if you squint

Notes: I didn’t actually like the ending I put for the original. I was reading though it going “why are the characters doing that? That’s the most out of character I’ve ever written” so this one has an alternate ending

“You can’t talk about them like that.” You stood over his desk, palms splayed over the hardwood. And the Hokage office stood still, even more so at the late hour. Not a floorboard dared to creek as you challenged the second Hokage with fearlessness in your voice. Tobirama’s red irises glanced up at you for a split second before returning to his document. The corners of his lips turned downwards in his usual scowl. The candlelight illuminated your wide eyes and clenched teeth. You doubled down, never having been afraid of your husband. “Did you hear me, Tobirama? Talking about the Uchiha like that is unacceptable!”

“Hear what?” Of course he heard you. He heard you the first time, but Tobirama refused to glance up from his writing. You continued to glare at the top of his head, a smoldering beam of fury that even the ever-stoic Tobirama had difficulty ignoring. “Talk about them like what? We can’t afford niceties when a whole clan is plotting the downfall of the village from their basements.”

“Like that.” He finally looked up at you, but his pen kept writing if not at a slower pace. Your scowl matched his own. He grew heated, but returned back to his document. “Efforts to unify the village won’t happen if you keep talking like—”

—“the efforts to unify the village won’t happen if the Uchiha don’t stand down.” You reached over to physically stop his quill with your hand. His eyes had since shifted to yours. You gritted your teeth. Part of you remained doubting about the state of things. The village was fragile and you certainly were no politician. But neither was Tobirama so you supposed you stood on equal footing in that regard.

“What is that supposed to mean?” The words came out almost in an exasperated whisper. You were somewhere between anger, frustration, and worry. Ink bled out in a wide dot onto the parchment below. The black liquid overtook the writing under your hands. “They’ve already lost—”

—“which means that they’ll try to reclaim power whenever they perceive us as weak.” Tobirama gave you a once over, nose wrinkling. He pulled his hand away from yours and you recoiled back. “Like you’re acting right now. Like my brother is acting right now. Don’t make a matter of security into something it’s not. I thought that you of all people would want to protect this village—”

—“Of course I want to—”

— “Well you certainly don’t act like it.” Tobirama had since stood from his seat. He didn’t made any further movements. Rather, he glanced down at his hands, conscious of where they were and cognisant of not making any movements that weren’t too sudden. His voice grew lower. “Senju are not supposed to be weak. I did not choose a weakling to stand by my side, I chose a warrior. Of course I want to unite the village, but we have to make sure it’s safe first.”

You didn’t know how to respond.

You turned and headed for the exit of Tobirama’s office. He called after you, but you had already gone.

You always sat at the outskirts of the village when you needed to cool off. The terrain made your location difficult to get to and the cliffs gave you an immaculate view of your new home. Few buildings were actually completed. You could see the construction from where you sat, halted for the day as the sun set a few hours prior, but you could only imagine how beautiful everything would look by the time it was done. But the space was sometimes shared.

“Tobirama Senju’s lover,” a deep voice spoke somewhere behind you. “Sneaking off to see me yet again.” You didn’t bother to make an effort to turn. The wind blew slightly, your hair tickling you against your neck. He had been standing there for a while.

“I wouldn’t say that I’ve been sneaking off to see you, Madara.” You locked gazes as he came to sit down next to you. His gaze lingered. You looked back off into the distance. The stars were just starting to become visible. “I didn’t sign up for this. It’s getting to be too much. I’m not sure I can learn this fast.”

Madara said nothing. The two of you sat in silence as the bugs chirped in the forest behind you. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned back. The earth felt soft and dry against your palms. Your head tilted up towards the sky and Madara studied you out of his peripheral. He had a habit of observing everything around him, his sharingan typically activated to drink it all in. What first came off to you as threatening, you hardly asked about anymore.

“You won’t change his mind,” he finally spoke. You hummed and more silence followed. The night grew visibly darker. The lights of the village shone below. It was a hopeful sort of shine. When you grew up in your clan, you occasionally had torches to lighten up the night. But in the village, people felt much safer. The fire warmed your sense of hope in unity.

You sat lost in the flames and Madara sat. Like most men in both the Senju and Uchiha tribes, was a physical being. He existed near you quietly and hummed along to your complaints. You considered yourself far more trusting of Madara than he likely was of you, not to say you trusted him completely. You supposed the dynamic was for good reason. After all, you trusted Hashirama and Madara had reason not to trust the Senju. You could understand that.

The stars shone on and Madara considered you back until he finally stood. You remained with your legs swinging off the side of the cliff. He paused, looking down at you.

“Leave him. He doesn’t deserve you.” You didn’t process his words, but as you turned your head, you were met with an outstretched palm. You glanced from his hand to his face, only visible under the moonlight and the low glow of the collection of light below. “We don’t belong in this village.” Your frown from before crept back onto your lips.

“You’re leaving…” Madara didn’t answer. “Why are you leaving?”

You rose as well, eschewing his offer to help you up. His arm returned to his side. Behind him, just beyond the treeline leaned his weapon against a fallen trunk. You never considered Madara one for jokes, but you had to be sure. You turned back to look at the village glowing in the night.

“I can’t come with you.” Your voice trailed off. You hardly recognized it in it’s softness. Perhaps he was right, but you had obligations to too many people. You couldn’t leave, you wouldn’t let yourself. The palpitations in your heart pounded against your veins. You knew you wouldn’t change your mind.

“Why not?” Madara reached for you again, but you pivoted from him, lost expression on your troubled face. If he tried to stop you, you might change your mind.

“I can’t. I have a duty to the village,” you said with more force. You looked up at him, defeated but sure. “This is what I have to do.” Madara didn’t fight you. His expression firmed and his hands clenched at his sides. He looked to the side, deep breath flooding his lungs which released in a huff. Perhaps he was at a loss as well.

“Is it because of him?” he asked.

“I have a commitment to my husband and a duty to him. I also have a duty to myself and what’s right. And what’s right is staying here. I just wish it was the right thing for you too.”

You looked into his dark eyes and found that you couldn’t read him. Although, you didn’t know many times where you could. He reached up, softly readjusting your hair. Madara lingered, gaze dancing from your eyes to somewhere around your forehead as if trying to commit your face to memory. He tucked a few pieces of hair behind your ear.

“Alright,” he said.

He retreated into the forest and you let him.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.