#im so behind in writer's month that I'm just going to post them when they're done and not wait for an appropriate time to do it

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

If you wanna walk through the Upside Down... | Steddie

Prompt: Underworld

Words: 2355

Fandom: Stranger things

A/N: Another Hadestown inspired fic. I just love Wait for Me (Reprise) so much. It’s another late Writer’s Month entry and if I don’t get the badge, then at least I tried. I wasn’t able to do last year’s one and I’m surprised I was able to get this far this year now that I’m back in college. It was fun regardless and I was able to vent out and cope with certain shows and movies through these prompts.

Hints of child abuse and physical assault. Nothing too descriptive. Hurt/comfort stuff.

Summary: Eddie had sacrificed himself to save everyone, but Steve wants him back. If not for his sake, for the kids’ sake. The trip to the Upside Down is difficult and one he must do alone, but he can’t just leave him down there.

-

A trial, he claimed. A trial to see if they were able to withstand the demons in their mind, if their bond was strong enough to push on through. Vecna/Henry/One was a sick bastard for that. El warned Steve of the risk of venturing back to the Upside Down, especially going alone. He would do it though. For Eddie. 

In order to get Eddie back from the Upside Down, they must travel through the twisted version of Hawkins with Steve walking at the front and Eddie at the back. Steve had to trust that Vecna released his hold on Eddie. He had to trust that Eddie would follow him, that he wanted to leave. It seemed simple enough, but it wouldn’t be a trial if it didn’t come with a price. If Steve turned around to see if Eddie was following, Vecna would wrap his slimey vines around him and drag him back to where he held him. Then, Steve would have to return alone and the gates would be closed.

“He’s gonna mess with us,” Eddie said, doubt already creeping in. He rubbed his eyes in frustration, holding back tears. If they screw this up, he’ll never be able to leave. “That’s what he does. He gets into our minds and –”

“We can do this, Eds,” Steve said, holding on either side of his head, making the older boy look at him. There was sheer determination in his eyes and Eddie was inclined to believe him.

Eddie nodded, gripping on Steve’s shoulders, as if making sure that Steve being there wasn’t a trick all along. Steve sniffed, wanting to scream, to cry out, demanding why they should prove that they deserve to live, to leave this hellhole. Someone like Eddie did not deserve to be here, to be used as a puppet to hurt others. He just wanted to graduate, to grow his band and earn enough money to spoil his uncle, to play DnD with his friends and create heroic tales together.

“Wait for me on the other side?” His voice was so small, it made Steve mad at Vecna for shrinking this young man that always held such a large presence in any room he walked in.

“Why can’t there be another way?” El demanded at One.

He twisted his head towards the girl that he once hoped would help him rule the world. Someone that held such promise, siding with these weaklings that clung onto the illusion of freedom while chaining themselves to the restraining rules of society. El glared at him, the fire in her eyes had grown brighter from the last time he saw her.

“Papa is gone,” she continued, “The world is changing. It’s always changing. Humans… they can be narrow minded, mean, and liars, but they’re not all like that. They can be accepting, kind, and honest, and loving, and… people change. If we give them the chance to change –”

“Then, let’s test your faith in humanity. Let’s see if it is deserved,” he said, turning back to the pair in front of them. “If they can overcome what I throw at them, all the ugliness and pain that ever set foot in their minds, then they can leave. You can leave… but you still need to face me if you want this to end once and for all and I’ll be waiting for when the time comes.”

Steve pressed his forehead against Eddie’s. “I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes. I’ll wait for you. I trust you. We’re gonna prove him wrong and get the hell out of here,” he muttered, repeating those words over and over like a prayer.

“Stevie,” Eddie said shakily, “In case that this is actually a trap, I just wanted to tell you, what I’ve been wanting to tell you, is that I… I lo –”

“No, no, no. You tell me when we get out of here,” Steve insisted, “We’re getting out of here.”

“Steve…”

“It’s time to go,” One rumbled.

El walked over to them, squeezing their arms. “It’ll be okay. I need to go first, but I’ll be waiting on the other side of the gate for you. I cannot interfere.”

They nodded in understanding, pulling her into a hug before she pulled away towards the gate. Once she disappeared through, the demobats and the crawling vines seemed to be more agitated. The demobats swarmed closer, perching themselves along the telephone wires and buildings that lined the broken road, which seemed to stretch out forever, that led all the way to the open gate. The vines crawled up along the walls and slithered along the cracks, waiting to grab Eddie’s ankles the moment Steve turned around.

Steve took in a deep breath and spun around. Eddie wanted to reach out and touch his hand, already missing him, but he knew that they weren’t allowed to touch. The moment Steve takes a step forward would be when the trial officially started. 

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment and thinking about his happiest memories. After hearing from Max what he had put her through, he had taken the time to think about what those memories were and he was glad that he did. It helped him realize what he had waiting on the other side for him, what he could forward to in the future. He just hoped that Eddie had enough of those memories as well.

He took one step forward, then two, a chill running down his spine at how still everything felt. Then, it hit him. Memories of his childhood, of his father’s anger and his mother’s sorrow, of the fakeness and bravado that he used to have, of bullying victims’ misery, of heartbreak after heartbreak, of all the near death experiences, including the kids’ that he was unable to prevent. Every sting on his cheek, every cut and bruise on his body over the years slamming onto him all at once, guilt and helplessness weighing him down like chains, like the souls of the underworld dragging him into the asphalt below.

He closed his eyes once more, struggling to push forward. Then, he saw Eddie, shoved in his locker, dunked in a toilet bowl, beaten in the alley of the arcade, hunted down by the town mob, beaten again and again, rushed to the hospital and handcuffed to the bed rail. Why should he come back? What did he owe the town that turned on him? Why should he save them?

No. Eddie wouldn’t do that to his uncle. To Dustin. To all the boys in Hellfire. To Robin and Nancy. To Steve. He was right behind him, walking with one foot after another.

Steve began to think of the kids. Of Dustin smiling at him with such joy and admiration. Of the boys rambling about some DnD or sciencey thing that Steve had yet to wrap his head around. Of Will’s quiet presence, concentrating on his drawing as his friends spoke around him and interjected with his deep insight or quick wit. Of Max and her snarkiness, her stubbornness, her reluctance to admit that deep down, she loved hanging out with those kids she called dorks. After she recovered from her second encounter with Vecna, she even admitted that she saw Steve as an older brother.

Then he thought of Robin, his best friend. His platonic soulmate. Someone who did not expect anything from King Steve, but accepted the real Steve. Someone who opened his eyes to what he had suppressed from his childhood and helped him realize that it was okay to like men and women. That he was stupid to have not grabbed Eddie by the collar and kiss him like he wanted to. He thought of their time at Scoops, at Family Video, of their drives around town, and their sleepovers when the nightmares became too much. He thought of how they could live together after she graduated and figure out life while they had each other's back.

He was moving down the road with impressive speed, powered by his love for those kids and his best friend. One wasn’t having it, hitting him with the memory of him and Nancy in the bathroom, her eyes glaring up at him as she spat that everything was bullshit. Their relationship was bullshit. He stumbled on his feet, feeling the air rush out his lungs as if being punched in the gut. 

Then, the memory of a younger Steve being left alone as his parents went on another business trip, how the trips were getting longer and their stay at the house getting shorter. He once thought that they did that to avoid coming home to him, that they decided that he was not the son that they wanted and gradually pretended that he did not exist.

Steve pushed through it, thinking about his realization and acceptance that he and Nancy were just not meant to be, that there was no point in forcing it. He was happy to be her friend. They’ve been through a lot together, so there was no getting rid of each other from their lives that easily. And he was fine with that. 

The group that he had found himself surrounded by, the ones that he fought monsters and evil Russians and abusive brothers with, were his family. Even the persistent and gentle badass that was Joyce Byers and the gruffy but kindhearted Chief Hopper were his family. Not the parents that don’t even bother to call even on holidays. 

He wondered how Eddie was doing. Was he powering on with the memories of his uncle buying him his first guitar? Of discovering freshmen that were equally if not more passionate about DnD than he was? Of the crowd of five to six drunks cheering for his band at the Hideout? Of his and Robin’s inside jokes about Dorothy and Rocky Horror? Of his flirting with Steve and the latter’s flustered expression before flirting back?

The glow of the gate was shining into his eyes, the faint breeze of fresh air teasing him. They were almost there. The gate was just up ahead.

Did Eddie even want him back? What if all that flirting was just Eddie being Eddie? Just because he found out that he liked guys, too, doesn’t mean he liked Steve. He was horrible to him in high school and still called him a freak even after he graduated. He refused Dustin’s requests to play DnD with him if it meant avoiding hanging around with ‘the freak’. Did Steve deserve to make it out? Would it have been better if he traded places with Eddie to stay in the Upside Down?

Steve squeezed his eyes shut again, thinking back to the open field where they had parked the RV. He was making molotov cocktails with Robin, Nancy was showing Max how to use a shotgun, and the Sinclairs were making spears together. Then there was Eddie and Dustin, playing with the nailed trash can cover shields they made. 

After tackling the younger boy, Eddie held him at arm's length and spoke with a proud smile on his face. They laughed at something and pulled away, readying their shields again. For a minute, Eddie looked up, feeling Steve’s eyes on him. He sent a quick wink and a dimpled smile before turning back to Dustin. All those small moments like that had to mean something. Because what Steve felt when he’s with him was real, and scary, and exciting, and warm, and right.

“You think I’d ever love you?” he heard Eddie’s voice spat. “A selfish, worthless asshole that took joy in other people’s pain? That was possessive and insecure and scared of what he was?”

“Eddie, no,” Steve breathed, “You don’t mean that. The Eddie that I know gave people second chances. He… he knows I changed.”

“Why would I ever want to follow you out of here only to be mocked and hunted down?”

“They won’t do that. Hopper will sort everything out. We know you’re innocent. We could hide you –”

“And be your dirty little secret,” Eddie’s voice growled, “Hidden with shame while you protect your reputation. But, you can’t have both, Steve.”

“I don’t care about my reputation!” Steve shouted, fighting the urge to turn around to face him. It wasn’t the real Eddie speaking, One was provoking him. “I’ll kiss you in front of the whole town if I have to. I’ll fight anyone that ever tries to hurt you. Even if it kills me.”

“Interesting,” One purred, his voice bouncing around Steve’s brain. “You are more physically capable in fighting than this one is. If I were to release Eddie Munson from my hold, would you accept being my right-hand man? I can do this in an instant. Neither of you have to suffer anymore. Your Eddie would be safe from me… Join me.”

“I… No, I can’t. I –” He felt his mind slipping away, like he was being lifted in the air.

“You lied!” El’s voice boomed through the void, jolting Steve back to his physical body.

He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the dimness of the Upside Down, seeing the gate two feet away. He was so close. The gate ripped open even further as El stepped through with fury on her face.

“You are not to interfere!” One shouted, waving a hand towards her, the demobats leaping into action.

“You broke the rules first,” she said, holding a hand out. She turned to Steve and Eddie and shouted, “Go! I’ll hold them off.”

Steve nodded, running towards the gate. He was still afraid that Eddie could still disappear, that he would be ripped away from him for good. He didn’t turn around.

The fresh air felt good in his lungs as he stumbled to the ground, catching his breath. The sky was a calming light blue and the clouds were rolling lazily across, blocking the sun for just a moment. He closed his eyes, holding onto Eddie in his heart and counted to ten. He’ll be here.

“Steve.”

He opened his eyes.

[dufrau]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @lesbianlotties 🍻thanks bud!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 27

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 199,090. If only I could have padded that last thing out another 1000 words i would have hit my year end goal of 200k 😭 now i just absolutely have to post at least one thing this month thats all 🤷

3. What fandoms do you write for? just ronance

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Red & White & Blue & Gold - 715

Exile - 670

Entirely On Purpose and According To Plan - 580

Nothing But The Whole Wide World - 578

I Wish I Was The Moon - 469

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! If I have ever not responded to your comment I promise it was an accident I try to respond to all of them always because I love them so much.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I'm gonna go with One Too Many Mornings (and A Thousand Miles Behind) even though theres one thats definitely SADDER but I feel like this one is specifically ANGSTIER.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Honestly contrary to what many would have you believe, most of what i write has a happy ending! I guess Entirely On Purpose, maybe? That one just feels good at the end.

8. Do you get hate on fic? Not to my face!

9. Do you write smut? Yeah. I love it and I hate it. It's the hardest thing to write for me but also for some reason the thing I tend to fall back on when Im having trouble writing other things.

10. Do you write crossovers? Not so far. Ive written an AU but its not actually a crossover, really?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of 🤞

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I know of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No. I think conceptually this could be fun if we had a good premise, each writing one POV. But I would only try it with like a very small handful of people who first of all I vibe with but second of all who I would trust to actually write their part.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? I mean. Ronance.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t? I think I'll finish all of my WIPs. I don't have a lot and they're mostly gonna wind up being short so it's just a matter of doing it 🤷

16. What are your writing strengths? Hoo boy. Dialogue, I think? And like atmosphere, setting the scene, establishing a sense of place kind of stuff?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. And run-on sentences.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it makes sense it's fine. But I think a lot of people think it makes sense when it doesn't actually make sense? Basically if a character doesn't switch between languages often in canon it feels weird to have them do it in fic, in my opinion. It's like making up nicknames that dont exist in canon, it just pulls me out of the story.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Glee 🙃 But all evidence of that has been erased.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? My Piece of Land no doubt about it. i am so proud of it i will be bragging about it on my deathbed.

you're tagged if you want to be tagged, i will not gatekeep bragging about your fics! if you want to please do it!

[sailoryooons]

Yo im so tired of people on here coming into writers inboxes and complaining about shit. THIS IS FUCKING FREE!!!! Were fucking lucky that they are responding to ANY messages about their work let alone fucking unconstructive and rude complaints. Because they literally don’t have to do any of this at all. NOTHING! They can post one chapter of a series and hype it up and then never post anything else about it again. They can write for one fandom for years, then switch on a dime and never write anything else for it again. They can say again and again that a fic is almost done then never release it. They don’t owe us shit. It’s a privilege to be able to read the drabbles, scenarios, and fucking novel and series-length stories with the themes, characters, and world-building that we love so much. And then to be complaining about some editing???? I’ve begun stories that I’ve been excited about the premise, and the grammar has been to the point that it’s completely pulled me out and I couldn’t finish it even though I loved where the story was going. I’ve only been reading works on this blog for like a month now, so I don’t know about old stuff. The last one i read I read (the jin gamer/roommate fic i think?) there were like maybe 2 or 3 times where i had to go back and reread and piece together what the intention was or where there seemed to be a missing word, but that’s so rare and like, didn’t pull me out of the story that much. And it’s fucking free! If i paid for a book, then i might be disappointed, but if i paid for a book, there probably would have had a whole publishing team that would have edited that out in the first place!!! Go read things you know are edited if you dont like it and don’t bother people who are providing free things that don’t hurt anyone because of dumb ass reasons.

I 100% get if you don’t post this if you don’t want all this yelling and negativity, but I hope you know that you are appreciated for what you give so freely. This is just one of many comments ive seen lately come to writers on here and while some of them have seemed to come from well-intentioned people, there’s like a sense if entitlement that’s completely unearned behind it that makes me fume! I try to stay out of other people’s business but this made me so mad!!!

Hi wow okay first of all - thank you for overall just getting it. Writing is a really hard thing to do and there are a lot of content creators on this website who are churning out content and trying to do their best to make it good enough for those who engage with them.

I agree with a lot of points on this - when we start to consider reader/writer relationships, a lot of people don't realize that there really isn't an obligation on the writer to do things the way that they're expected, whether it's updating at a certain frequency or editing a certain way or just... anything. While most of the CCs I know (including myself) rely really heavy on audience feedback for the way that we do things, there are certain perceptions, comments or expectations that are just super tiring.

While I totally understand how my minimal editing can seem lazy or like I don't care - that's certainly not it. It's just really the lesser of two evils for me - either I can use editing programs if I don't have someone to beta immediately, or I can delay posting for a few days while I get my bearings and edit.

Most of my writer friends will tell you that editing your own stuff is hard for some people. For some writers it's super easy to pump out a huge fic and turn around and edit. For others, it's not. It's really about what works best for each person, and this is currently what works best for me (I get really nervous delaying fics over and over again because I don't give myself enough grace and time to finish).

But overall - yes, agreed with a ton of things you said in this and I'm responding publically because I think there are a lot of really great points about the writer/reader relationship and expectations.

Editing more is something I definitely want to work on and I'll be better at asking for betas (I always feel very intimidated to do this) but yeah. Thank you!!

[sukunasun]

omg i can't believe you lost all your works? that's devastating! i'm so so sorry that happened. how many months or years' worth of work was it, or do you have a ballpark figure of what's missing? i mourn the drafts we won't get to see because you're an insanely talented writer, but im utterly grateful you still choose to continue. you're such an inspiration.

i basically reenacted the burning of the library of alexandria. there were about 190+ pieces of writing (inclusive of hcs, fics, and asks,etc...) all gone so quickly i barely had time to process it.

before i went finding links and copies from reblogs, i was contemplating whether it'd be worth it since there was a lot to find and it'll take up so much time just searching for them but thankfully most of it is on my masterlist now! there were a few that i just couldn't find reblogs of / cached copies so i suppose they're orphaned work now :( hopefully i'll stumble upon them some day and will be able to link them again.

but i've come to accept it so there are no hard feelings, the grief isn't going to linger and i think the situation helped to bring some focus back to my writing and how it has changed overtime. i get to see the ways which ive improved or lacked. plus, it brought me back to the purpose behind wanting to share my writing in the first place? pre-deletion i got really nervous and felt pressured when it came to posting stuff because i didn't know what reactions i would get, there was this 'underrated writer' stigma looming around me and i was concerned about 'getting my stuff out there'—which isn't how i want to feel when it comes to doing this, i like the interaction and i like when i see my work inspiring people and garnering such positivity but at the same time posting these works was always just about wanting to share thoughts and to write the kind of stuff i want to read about.

and i think im less hard on myself, it sucks being a tortured artist...there are works i keep to myself that i'm not ready to share because im so infuriated with my own inabilities and lacklustre ways, i read them and i think to myself what the hell am i doing? do i really think to call myself a writer? thus the works posted here will render some 'detachment' from me because i know they aren't mine anymore. they become someone else's piece of favourite writing or they're most hated, once i know its out there...it'll be seen and known, it'll exist as something tangible. which is why i feel less upset about 'losing' them after they got deleted, in a way, i was already prepared to let them go. this isn't to say that i don't cherish them but that i've learned that i'll write more stuff anyway and i'll write til i can do it no longer.

when i think about my favourite writers, i'm glad i've gotten to see some of their unfinished works and drafts, their letters and their poems too, all the stuff they probably never wanted the world to see but without them i wouldn't have seen a person who struggles the same way i do.

thank you for mourning them, they were pieces that have brought me a lot of joy and i hope my future work continues to mean something to you 💛