#the chapters that are done are in ao3 already

[wheneverfeasible]

Bloody Hands, Broken Hearts: a Mafia AU

chapter wc: 4.6k || rating: M (for now) || cw: blood, violence, reference to death of a minor original character, sex trafficking, past rape/non-con, homophobic language, derogatory language towards sex workers, sexualized use of “Daddy”, mean dom!Eddie, feminized!Steve || ao3

summary: No UD. Years after being sold through a sex trafficking ring to a member of the mafia, Steve’s former master is deposed by one of the most feared men in organized crime, Don Kas the Bloody-Handed. Except, much to Steve’s surprise and horror, he knows him by another name: Eddie Munson.

~

Chapter 1

An annoyed tsk left pale lips as the man picked at the drying blood on his thick, silver rings with his thumb from where he was leaning back against the sturdy mahogany desk. His legs were crossed before him in his repose, one bloody hand pressed against the disordered papers on the desk, uncaring that they were being marked by the deep red splattered across his palm and knuckles, already drying a dark hue not unlike the color of the desk itself.

After a tense, silent moment of the man examining his rings and nail beds, dark eyes flashed up to take in his captive audience. Quite literally. Though they were unbound where they were made to kneel on the floor, the men holding guns on either side of them and on the other side of the door let them know that escape was futile.

Steve was fucked.

The thing was, everyone knew of Kas. Kas the Bloody-Handed. That’s what people called him, at least, and looking at the glint of his silver rings smeared with the umber of dried blood, Steve could acknowledge that it was a fitting name. However, that was not his real name, and it was with mounting horror that Steve realized that that was not the name Steve knew him by.

No, to Steve, the man before him was none other than the boy Steve’s former best friend had taken the most sick delight in tormenting: Eddie Munson.

Munson looked different now, but there was no denying that it was him. He had more tattoos nowadays, including one curling up his neck to brush against his jaw and both his forearms covered in them as seen with his fancy dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up, exposing the dark ink. He also had close-cut facial hair now that was a slightly lighter color than the still long and curly dark brown hair he now had tied back into a low and loose ponytail with a piece of cord. There was a coldness to his dark eyes now too, his once more wiry frame now a little more filled out with compact muscle.

In another lifetime, Steve might have been able to acknowledge that the man was attractive, might have had another reason than fear making his mouth go dry and needing to thickly swallow. However, as it was, Steve could only flinch and duck his head further when those flint hardened eyes passed over him.

He was luckily not at the front of the group kneeling on the rug before their former master’s desk, in front of their former master’s fireplace in their former master’s bookshelf lined study. There were a little more than a half-dozen of them, all trembling with fear at the knowledge that whatever horror they had been living through before, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Munson, or Kas, was notorious, infamous even. He had been a nobody once, until suddenly he was a Somebody with a capital S. He swiftly moved up the ranks of his clan, earning respect borne of fear for his ruthlessness, until suddenly he was sitting on the metaphorical throne. He was not happy there, however, and all too soon he was making a name for himself amongst the other families too.

All too soon the other families began falling before him like dominos, one right after the other, bending the knee or—if they refused or otherwise displeased him—being eliminated entirely.

Which was what had occurred here to Steve’s former…employer. Not that Steve or the others got paid for what they did. Or had done to them. Steve couldn’t even say that behaving well and pleasing whoever they were sent to had them being treated better, since more often than not pain was part of their client’s pleasure.

As for their master—or Daddy, as they were instructed to call him—he was the worst of the worst. The way he showed his favor was through far more than just simple pain. Pain was something Steve could handle. It was the attention that was the terrifying part. Yet, Steve bore that attention willingly, for it kept it off of all the others.

“Tell me,” the voice of their new master softly intoned, his voice like thunder in the tense silence of the room, despite being little more than a murmur. Munson’s voice was a little raspier than Steve remembered it being, but then it had been years since Steve had last seen much less heard the other man. The man had dropped out of school during his own senior year, Steve’s junior, and no one knew what had become of him. Now Steve knew, at least.

Every ear was straining to hear what their new master would say next, though every eye was trained on the ground before their master’s feet. Steve was suddenly thankful his hair was a little longer than he personally liked, grown to be easier to grab and manipulate the head to which it was attached. It also allowed him now to obscure his face ever so slightly as he swiftly lowered his head and his gaze when Munson’s eyes scanned over them.

“Tell me,” Munson said again, and even with his eyes on the man’s blood splattered shoes, Steve could tell that Munson had a sardonic smile on his lips. “Which one of you was Porzio’s favorite?”

Steve barely withheld a flinch. Of course Munson would want to know that. Unlike his former owner, Munson wasn’t an idiot. He couldn’t be to get to where he was now. An idiot would only get themselves killed. Case in point: Carmine “the Uber Dead Asshole” Porzio, gone and soon to be forgotten in the year of our father…Christ, whatever year it was nowadays.

It was hard to keep track of time when you spent the majority of it on your knees or with your face shoved into a mattress.

But Munson wanted to know Porzio’s favorite. The one who he kept with him the majority of the time, the one used for his own personal pleasure, the pleasure of his most loyal lieutenants. The one who was treated like nothing more than decoration, as though their ears suddenly stopped working just because their mouth was filled.

It was a smart move, really. An excellent way to obtain secret gossip or information that might not be in the books. The favorite was a fount of information, but also a great liability. Sometimes it was better to cut the head off a snake before it could bite. Munson obviously knew what he was doing, which should be evident by now. The only problem?

Steve had been Porzio’s favorite.

He knew what he looked like nowadays. He hardly looked like the King Steve he had once been before everything, hardly looked like the rich and privileged jock Munson would have known him as. His own muscle mass was no longer what it had once been, the loss of weight only natural after everything he’d been through, and bruises littered his body where he’d either been punished or been used for pleasure. Sometimes those were interchangeable.

Not only that, but his clothing was far from what Munson would have last seen him in. No polos, no jeans, no letterman jacket. Instead, Steve wore what the others wore, his body hair waxed away in an attempt to add to his feminization. Aided, of course, by the short black skirt that exposed the majority of his thighs through the fishnets, and the red lace bustier top that only just covered nipples but left his midriff exposed. Matching red strappy heels laced up his calves, with a thick black collar completing the ensemble around his neck, a dainty little silver ‘V’ dangling from it like a license.

It was entirely possible that Munson wouldn’t recognize him. After all, they both might have made a name for themselves in school, but Munson hadn’t been there for the disaster of Steve’s senior year, and it wasn’t like they had ever directly interacted before. Tommy always did the majority of his bullying when Steve wasn’t around, knowing Steve didn’t approve of it, so it wasn’t like Munson and him had spent any great amount of time together.

It helped that the makeup he wore was smudged too, which would hopefully act as a camouflage. Perhaps, if he answered things in a way that pleased Munson, if Munson could look past the fact that he was a guy in this role he’d been forced into, perhaps he’d live to see another day.

His lip was already split and his cheek already bruised by Porzio’s earlier slap, so he wasn’t looking forward to having the rest of his face caved in by Kas the Bloody-Handed.

Swallowing back his nausea, Steve drew in a breath and began to lift his head to call attention to himself and away from the others, when another voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I am, sir,” Janice called out, standing from her kneeling position at the front of the huddle. Steve’s head jerked to look at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her fingers twitched at her side, swiping horizontal to the floor ever so slightly, though she didn’t look at him. Stay quiet, that action said. Stay safe.

Steve’s stomach clenched painfully, and all the affection he felt for his girls surged through his bloodstream. He had tried, hard as he could, to protect them from the worst of things. He couldn’t do much, but he had made certain Porzio was focused entirely on him and none of the others. They worked as well, but Porzio was the most sadistic, the most vile; he would happily take it all on to save his girls from that.

To think that now, in the face of one of the most feared men in organized crime, they would try to protect him…it was beyond anything he’d ever known. No one had ever sought to protect him before.

Munson’s brow ticked up, his gaze sliding like oil over Janice’s trembling body, but she held firm with her head up. His sardonic smile only grew. “Are you now?”

He appreciated her help, he did, but he couldn’t let Janice risk everything for him. Before he could stand, before he could come clean with the truth, a firm hand was pressing down on his shoulder as Mona stood up from behind him, forcing him to stay kneeling.

“I was also a favorite, sir,” Mona says, making Steve wonder what in the I-am-Spartacus hell was going on. Still, warmth and fondness for his girls spread through him quickly as he looked around and noticed every last one of them had bunched muscles indicating preparation for movement. For him.

Munson looked a whole lot less amused, however, his brow dropping into a deep furrow as his gaze settled on the new apparent favorite. Kas was well-known for not taking fondly to liars and cheats. If he suspected that they were trying to pull a fast one on him…

Just as Munson was opening his mouth to say something, looking far less than pleased, Steve hurriedly shot to his feet. “It’s me,” he said quickly, almost breathlessly, wanting to say it before someone else decided to shout out Spartacus in a misguided attempt to help him. He moved to take a step forward and away from the others when he froze in place by the sound of a gun being cocked and levelled behind him.

Another tense hush fell as Munson stared at him, his eyes dragging over Steve’s form with both brows raised this time, an almost startled air to his mean smile. He waited a few moments more before flicking his wrist, the sound of the gun and man holding it returning to standby mode. Two fingers were then crooked at Steve to indicate for him to finish stepping forward.

Steve glanced at Janice and Mona, giving their beseeching looks a small shake of his head, and then they were slowly and reluctantly returning to their kneeled positions. Taking a deep breath, Steve crossed the distance and moved to take his place in front of Munson, kneeling at his feet without hesitation. “It was me, sir,” he murmured, keeping his gaze down. “I was Master Porzio’s favorite.”

It took all of his willpower (and training) not to flinch when Munson’s chunky rings came into view, his calloused fingers touching Steve’s chin to lift his face to meet his gaze. Steve couldn’t suppress the tremble at finally meeting Munson’s eyes for the first time, terrified of seeing recognition there.

Instead, Munson’s eyes stayed hard and flat, though with a touch of curiosity. A small smirk curled his lips. “Well now. Who would have guessed Porzio was a fudge packer,” he lightly sneered. His gaze moved over to the kneeling women before back to Steve. “And this is why they lied to me, to protect the fairy amongst them?” He snorted. “Who knew there was honor amongst whores.”

Munson’s thumb slid lightly against the edge of Steve’s bottom lip, and well familiar with the gesture, Steve parted his lips obediently. Something dark but pleased flashed behind Munson’s eyes, and praying he was doing the right thing, Steve let the tip of his tongue flick ever so softly against the pad of Munson’s thumb.

Almost immediately after, Munson pressed the rest of his thumb into Steve’s mouth, pressing down on Steve’s tongue enough to make him briefly gag. “Suck,” he ordered harshly, and Steve obeyed.

The familiar taste of sweat and blood filled his mouth as Steve’s lips wrapped around Munson, but he paid it no mind as he worked at fellating the man’s thumb. He kept eye contact the entire time, his hands curled in his lap, as he worked his mouth over the digit. He swirled his tongue over the thumb like it was a cock head, bobbing his head ever so slightly. Munson’s dark eyes watched him the entire time.

Just as Steve was beginning to wonder if he should start faking some moans, Munson pulled his thumb from Steve’s mouth with a slick wet sound, leaving a small trail of spit over Steve’s lips. Munson lightly snorted, lifting his gaze to look at his men. With silent communication, the men nodded and motioned for the kneeling women to stand, ushering them out of the room.

Steve could feel the eyes on him, knew his girls were looking at him, but he knew better than to return the look. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly on Munson who now leaned back against the deck with his arms crossed watching Steve.

Once the thick doors clicked closed behind the others, leaving Steve and Munson alone, a wry grin curled over Munson’s lips. “I can see why you were the favorite, if you suck cock half as good as you suck thumb.” Munson shrugged, pushing off the desk with a small snort to walk around it, settling in the leather chair behind the massive thing. He reached forward and tapped the desk beside him.

Once more obeying wordlessly, Steve swiftly stood and moved around the desk, settling his ass just to the side of where Munson sat as had been indicated. A derisive laugh left Munson then, but he didn’t look like he was about to punish Steve for being what he was. Or who he was. Instead, he looked mildly contemplative as he rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair, propping his chin up with his fist.

“Tell me, sweetheart, you got a name?”

Relief coursed through Steve so quickly he lost his breath for a moment, as though lightning had struck him down. Munson didn’t know his name, meaning he didn’t recognize Steve. Even better, Steve hadn’t gone by Steve in a while. He needn’t worry about someone slipping up and revealing that information when none of them knew it either.

“I’m Vee,” he answered, fingers moving up to lightly graze against the charm hanging from his collar. “But you can call me anything you want…” Steve swallowed quickly, glancing down before peeking up demurely through his lashes, “Daddy,” he finished on a soft breath.

A grin spread across Munson’s lips, and though it wasn’t quite as manic as the ones he used to smile back in high school, a spark of something like genuine amusement flashed behind his eyes. He leaned forward then, sliding his hand over Steve’s fishnet covered thigh until his fingers brushed ever so slightly under the bottom hem of his tight skirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind, precious,” he smirked. “And maybe you can keep your status as favorite, if you’re a good little boy.” His eyes traveled once more over Steve’s body, his smirk growing. “Though I bet there’s nothing small about you, Vee.”

Steve swallowed, feeling oddly flushed at being on the receiving end of Munson’s gaze. Of Kas’s gaze. He had to remind himself that this was more than just his former schoolmate; this man was perhaps one of the most dangerous men alive. His vast network spread far and wide, spies hiding everywhere.

“I’ll be good for you, Daddy. Promise,” he said softly.

“Oh, I’m sure you will, precious. I don’t tolerate failure.”

What was expected of him now? Should he slide into Munson’s lap? Move underneath the desk? Bend over the top? Wouldn’t be the first time he was in any of those positions in this very room. Munson simply continued watching him, however, indicating nothing.

Just when Steve was ready to beg for an order, Munson sighed and removed his hand from Steve’s thigh, settling back further into the expensive rolling leather chair, pressing his fingertips together into a steeple before him.

“We will be remaining here for several days as we go over Porzio’s records,” Munson stated, startling Steve slightly. He was unused to being addressed about any affairs other than what happened in the bedroom. Or anywhere else his master wanted him. Having Munson tell him what was going to happen now was thus unprecedented.

“You and the other whores will have your room guarded at all times and you will require, let’s say, a chaperone of sorts to move around the manor, at least until I can trust you,” Munson said with another small smirk. “Once I am satisfied with my acquisition of the estate, we will be moving to my main residence. Should you and the others please me during this transition, we can negotiate a reward for behaving so well. Do you understand?”

Though Steve’s insides always pinched at being called a whore, seeing as how neither he nor the others ever chose that particular career path, he had enough practice now to ignore such things. It wasn’t like someone of Kas’s reputation would care overly much about their sob stories. No, Steve gave such things only a passing thought, his mind caught on the end of his new master’s sentence.

“A reward?” he couldn’t help but ask, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Luckily for him, Munson did not seem to be particularly annoyed at his wagging tongue.

“The exact circumstance of which will depend entirely on you,” Munson agreed. “Consider it a quid pro quo situation. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I can guarantee that this is a far better deal than you had with Porzio. However,” he cautioned, holding up a single finger. “Any failure to comply or please me will make whatever Porzio did to you seem like a shy lover’s kiss.”

Steve swallowed down a grimace. That he understood perfectly well.

“I will also have a doctor visit to ascertain your health,” Munson added with a small shrug, clasping his hands before himself. “I have no use for spoiled goods.”

“Master Por—”

A loud smack of hand meeting wood startled Steve greatly enough that a small noise left him as he jumped, leaning away with wide eyes. Munson stared hard at him, leaning in with a small growl of warning.

“Porzio is not your master now, Miss Vee,” the man sneered mockingly. “You will no longer refer to him as such. You may call him either ‘Porzio’ or ‘that pig’ and nothing else, do I make myself clear?”

Steve swallowed, hastily nodding his head. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry, Daddy,” he rushed to say, dropping his gaze and trying not to tremble too greatly. His—Porzio was never consistent. Whether he liked you timid or not could change at the drop of a hat, moving from one extreme to the other at a moment’s notice. He didn’t know if Munson would appreciate a fearful display, or become annoyed with it. Only time would tell.

“I-I merely wished to assure you that we receive regular checkups to ensure our optimum health,” he murmured quietly. “But we will gladly submit to any examination or procedure you wish of us.”

Munson sat back in the chair as he studied Steve with an unreadable expression now. He glanced down at his still bloodied hand and the rings there. He gave a small snort, moving to slowly and carefully pull the stained items off his fingers and settling them in a small pile on the messy desk.

“Clean those,” he ordered. “And then bring them to my room tonight.” He smirked then, his eyes sliding over Steve’s figure once more. “We have much to…discuss,” he murmured, his brows raising slightly. “And Vee,” he added when Steve nodded and moved to stand up, causing Steve to pause.

Munson’s smirk seemed colder then, causing Steve to shiver as though physically chilled. “While I appreciate your immediate acceptance in the change of leadership around here, know that how quickly you switched your loyalties has not been unnoticed. Should you ever attempt to switch them again…you will not find the outcome favorable. Do I make myself clear?”

Dread settled low in Steve’s belly as he stared at Munson with wide eyes. He was standing on the edge of a precipice he hadn’t known existed until too late. He should have realized things would not be as easy as he had hoped they would be, should not have grown complacent when Munson didn’t recognize him.

Licking his lips, Steve swallowed back the threatening rise of bile. He dropped his head, chewing lightly on his bottom lip before glancing at Munson through his lashes once more. “I had no genuine loyalty to…to that pig, Daddy,” he murmured. “He was not a respectable man. Unlike you, sir.”

Had it been Porzio, he would have attempted a coy smile. He had a feeling Munson would be able to see right through it, however, so he instead tried to look as earnest as possible without actively begging. He slowly slid off the desk, catching Munson’s eyes.

“We know who you are, Daddy. None of us would ever dare to oppose you. I know the loyalty of a whore means nothing, Don Kas, but I was the favorite. The other girls will follow my example, and I pledge my loyalty wholly unto you.”

Munson snorted, looking for all the world like Steve amused him. Like Steve was some insignificant insect with delusions of grandeur. The man rubbed at his facial hair with a wry smile that did not meet his eyes. “And what of your body, darling? What if I told you that your dear Mr. Porzio and I shared…similar predilections.”

Steve squared his shoulders, a more genuine smile on his own lips because he had already been expecting this, had known his career on his knees was far from over. One hand on the desk as he leaned over to grasp the waiting rings and the other on his hip, he offered a small shrug of a shoulder.

“My body already belonged to you the second Porzio thought to move against you,” he replied easily. “He was not my dear anything. Not when I was already yours, Master.”

Munson studied him for a moment, but something almost pleased curled at the corners of his lips. “I think I much prefer you calling me ‘Daddy,’” he replied, reaching out to grasp Steve’s chin again for the briefest moment. He withdrew almost immediately. “Go now. And wash your face of that makeup while you’re at it. Make yourself presentable for me tonight.”

It was as he expected. He could not be bitter or regretful when he’d known this was coming all along. It was, after all, much better than his own blood staining the rings he now held in his palm.

“Yes, Daddy. Should I prepare myself for you?” he asked easily as he straightened. He would play his own part well. He was used to this role he’d been thrust into ever since he put his trust in the wrong person. He had seen it enough with his own parents, making him wish that little high school Steve Harrington had known what he knew now:

Love is just a fairytale.

Standing from the chair, Munson let out a soft huff of laughter, amused by Steve’s words. “You really do have your lines down, don’t you?” he scoffed as though reading Steve’s mind. “No matter. We’ll see how well you play your part tonight,” he said in a tone that was almost teasing, his hand moving to settle over Steve’s lower back to guide him around the desk and towards the carved double doors.

He paused then with a hand on the doorknob, eyes almost black as he grinned a shark’s grin, and let his voice drop to an almost conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me when I say that nothing you could do would prepare you for what I have planned tonight, sweetheart.”

Munson opened the door then, ushering Steve out with a slap to his ass, though the soldiers guarding the door didn’t react at all. However, Steve could not spare them even a passing thought as his blood turned to ice in his veins when Munson’s grin grew, uttering the words that sealed Steve’s doom.

“See you tonight, Harrington.”

As the door clicked closed, as his prison guard stepped forward to take him by the bicep to drag him away back to his gilded cage with the others, Steve felt that blade of ice pierce his chest with extreme certainty.

There was no escape for him. His fate had been sealed the day he had defied his parents, had fled town with the boy he had thought loved him, and he had only brought it all upon himself. Munson was going to kill him. Maybe not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but one day. Perhaps even one day soon.

Thrust into the room he shared with the others, he felt the door close and lock behind him, heard the worried voices and careful touches of his girls as they frantically tried to make certain he was all right, but it was like hearing them underwater, like he was wading upstream through a deadly current. He was shaking, he realized, fat tears sliding down his cheeks.

Only belatedly did he realize his hand was hurting where he had curled his fist around the chunky rings. With an almost detached curiosity he glanced down as he released his clenched fist and stared at the rings he may very well be cleaning in preparation for his own blood and skull and brains to stain their surface.

Absently, he reached out with his free hand to pluck a strand of hair caught in the snarled teeth of a silver monster. There was a clump of bloody scalp still attached to the end of the follicle.

Steve laughed.

~

TBC…

~

This scene comes from an idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it down. I don’t know if I’ll ever continue it as it is quite different from my usual stuff, but I do have some ideas for possible continuation and further backstory for our two leading men

Yeah nvm I’m gonna continue this, it won’t leave my thoughts

~

Fun fact: I almost named the second OFC Monica but then I realized that with the first one being named Janice that I was unintentionally writing it as a Friends crossover and I had to change her name before I named the next one Phoebe or something 😂 oops my bad

Also, Porzio means “hog”, while Carmine means “vivid red” lol

~

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[nemaliwrites]

9/24 chapters edited...pray for me 💔

[lavenoon]

Did I plan on adding to the reveal comics I made? No. Have a prequel to this one anyway. Fully from our little Hunter's perspective this time, so no heartbeats in this one (just me going wild with lines from the fic). Protective idiot hellbent on the belief that all cryptids are evil is confronted with the fact that 1) their buddies are what they consider to be an "evil thing" and 2) have proven again and again that they care deeply about them and protect them right back. That won't cause cognitive dissonance for sure! (:

@naffeclipse Hi yes hello I am still SCREAMING about the newest chapter literally every time I think about it too much I have to get up and move (made drawing this a unique challenge LMAO) I need to physically shake someone about it. Finally time to drop the lie I am so not normal about this fic

Lines in the first panel: "Speak no more." "It looks just fine to me." You've never detected an entity this strong before. He stays back as you flick holy water throughout the rooms. [...] a pitch black flat face, circled by deep blue and blood red jutting angles [...] "I don't know what you got in you that keeps setting off my equipment, but it is strong." Its remaining three eyes aren't upon you but on something above you. "They don't think, they don't feel. They exist to terrorize and torment." "I think you scared it." "We are scarier than it." Somehow, he closed the gap between the two of you in a moment. [...] nothing short of another threat could make it give pause [...]

Second panel: You're grateful Moon is here with you. "Breathe," he says, warm as sunshine, calm as the new day. Moon lifts you off the ground, clutching you close around the waist. Moon's optics frantically flick to you, wide in alarm. You are first aware of cool fingertips stroking the top of your hair. "We will stay with you," he murmurs in a tender tone that makes your heart swell. [...] your electronically recorded gasp causes Sun to bristle. [...] expose your shoulder to Sun, who makes a rather deep, unpleasant noise when you both find angry red marks [...] You have each other. You're not losing that. "I assure you, little hunter, I'm not leaving your side." [...] kept anchored by the safety of Sun's hand. [...] you squint to make out Moon at your backside, holding you close. "You take care of the scary things." "You won't be near us." By the glow of his eyes, he almost seems to admire you. Sun presses you to his chassis. "We, and our soot, are at your mercy, little hunter." It certainly wouldn't have lent a hand in taking down another cryptid. [...] he flings it away from you. Well, the slightest bit of intrigue, or is it confusion? "You're hurt." Because of him, you raise your voice. He taps once. "You have a dauntless heart." "We must come with you." "That's what we adore about you." "You kept me safe," Moon says softly.

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

…I finally did something again

Summary:

After completing the Candy Carrier Chaos adventure, Ragatha was certain that Pomni was finally coming around to her new life at the Circus. She had even made a new friend! It felt like things were finally going to be ok between them!

Then Gummigoo was deleted...and suddenly all of her hopes came crashing down.

Losing people is starting to take its toll.

[minecraftian1213]

[baeshijima]

it is now officially the 25th which means...

merry christmas everyone !!! regardless of whether u celebrate or not, i hope u all have a lovely day with whoever u spend it with or with urself <33

[trensu]

an excerpt of the newest chapter of the halfway house fic based on this past post. Enjoy :)

“Steve, come get your furry little menace! He’s chewing up my laces again,” Robin grumbled.

“Maybe if your laces are ruined, you’ll finally buy a new pair of shoes,” Steve snarked. Steve walked to the living room to find Robin attempting to tie her old Converse only to snatch back her hands every time the kitten took a swipe at the laces in question. “He’s just a baby. He wants to play.”

“He can get his own laces to play with, then. And there’s nothing wrong with my shoes. I’m not going to go buy new shoes when these are perfectly functional. And my favorite color.”

Steve scooped the kitten up even as he kept reaching for the laces and cuddled him to his chest. Steve rubbed gently behind the kitten’s ears until the kitten relaxed into tiny purrs.

“What do you think, Dustin? Should Robin get new shoes? Raise your paw if you agree with me,” Steve said. He lifted the kitten’s right paw and waved it a bit, making the kitten squirm. “See, he agrees with me.”

Robin snorted and rolled her eyes at his teasing smile. “I still can’t believe you named him Dustin.”

The kitten chose that moment to start climbing up Steve’s shirt to reach his shoulder. His tiny claws pricked at Steve’s skin through the thin fabric but they were so small, they barely hurt at all. Steve laughed as the kitten settled on his shoulder and began to mew at the top of his lungs.

“It’s not my fault he looks like a Dustin,” Steve insisted. When he brought the kitten home two days ago, Robin tried to name him something else but Steve put his foot down about it. He found the kitten, and he thought the kitten was a Dustin, so no other name was allowed. 

Dustin let out another mew so loud he nearly toppled over. Steve pulled him off his shoulder with an amused huff. Dustin wriggled incessantly in his hands. Steve lost his grip on him but thankfully he had gotten him close enough to the ground by then that the fall was negligible to a cat.

“Okay, okay, we’ll play for a little while, you needy baby.”

He and Robin were waiting for payday to run to the pet store for more supplies. They were lucky that their neighbor across the hall had an old litter box that her cat had outgrown, and a couple of spare food bowls. She had even given them a few cans of wet food, cooing over the kitten all the while. Dustin, apparently, was a charming little guy. He obviously took after Steve. Robin had punched him on the arm when he said as much.

In the meantime, they were using old bits of string and a little orange ball Robin had stolen back when they worked at a mini-golf place. The kitten seemed to enjoy them well enough but Steve planned on getting him fancier playthings and some catnip. He rolled the ball across the floor and the kitten chased after it. He pounced on it, wobbly, which sent the ball rolling again for another chase. Steve laughed. Robin giggled along with him.

“He’s lucky he’s adorable. Otherwise we’d be having problems, him and I,” Robin said with a grin. Her mischievous demeanor softened slightly. “I’m glad you found him, you big old softie. Now you can stop moping so much.”

Steve ducked away when she reached to ruffle his hair. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, lightheartedly. “Maybe if I do a good job with him, someone will finally let me have a kid.” 

The kitten had apparently gotten bored of the ball and was attempting to climb up the back of the couch. Steve quickly grabbed him so he would damage the upholstery. He booped the kitten’s nose.

“What do you think, baby? Will I be a good dad? Be honest.”

Dustin grabbed his finger and gnawed at it while making the most precious sounds. A purring mew.  Steve’s heart melted; though from what he had read, he really shouldn’t let Dustin get accustomed to using his hands as playthings.

Steve resigned himself to losing half his paycheck to cat toys.

Continue on Ao3

ps: i do not do reader tag lists or whatever those things are called. i tag all my writing with 'trensu tells stories' so please just follow that tag if you wanna keep up with my stuff, thank you

[daddysclownboy]

debating whether or not to ignore my posting schedule and post the next chapter today...

[imwritesometimes]

me: this is too much exposition. you should not directly tell all the time. let dialogue and tone/body language descriptions do some of the work

also me: this isn't exposition it's literally the second paragraph of chapter one you're setting up the plot you gotta drop a little exposition

also also me:

[starsfic]

Summaries:

Azure Lion ventures into the territory of the Monkey King to rescue some soldiers captured by the wily king. He has another plan in mind, however. (Inspired by "Done For" from Epic.)

AU where, after Kai Mulang is defeated, Wukong doesn't re-join the pilgrims. Instead, he meets back up with DBK and relaxes, unaware of Macaque confessing the truth to the Camel Ridge Trio...who track down the pilgrims.

[synchodai]

just dropping by to say how much i love your jacegan fic 🥺 i want to start writing my own fic but i've tried and every time i lose interest and finish it. i love how you give us such quick updates with barely any typos and a clean structure. what's your secret? do you use any tools like ai to write so fast? thank you!

Oh wow, first of all, thank you for the compliment! Second of all, do not, and I mean DO NOT, for any purpose use chatgpt, character.ai, or any large langauge models for your writing — just don't. It won't help your writing, it won't help you as a writer, and it won't help anyone alse.

To answer the question, I guess I'm a relatively quick writer because I've been writing for years and years now outside of fanfiction, so I have a process and the habit down pat, honed from creative writing workshops and the more rigid process of academic writing. With the process I have, half the entire project is basically done even before I post the first chapter.

My approach to writing is very similar to how most people draw and make visual art. You start with a rough and vague outline and then add the details in later steps. Outlining is a learned skill. For fanfiction, most free-write their work, but if I actually intend to finish anything more than 10k+ words, I need to have a plan and know where I'm heading. I really do recommend at least learning to outline, even if you are an intuitive writer who will end up mostly ignoring it.

Here's a rundown of my "steps" with examples taken from my current fic and a project that's still in the planning stages that I may or may not write:

#1: Outline the whole project

Plot the fic chapter by chapter, centering each chapter around one major event or info reveal. You can be as vague and messy as you want for this step since you're the only one who'll get to see your outline anyway.

#2: Outline the scenes you want per chapter

You don't need to list everything that'll happen at this stage. These are the key scenes that you daydream about while listening to music or taking a walk. You can picture these scenes on vivid 4k.

#3: Write summaries of each scene

I put each chapter into a seperate document with their key scenes already there. Here's the phase where you just start telling yourself the story. Again, this isn't meant to be read and seen by anyone but you. The goal is just to know how the events are connected and will play out. This is also the part where I do most of my research.

For example, under Chapter 4 - Jace Recovers, I wrote:

Jace wakes up in Driftmark/High Tide. Body aching, barely can move. [Research here how long it takes to heal from broken arm and medieval casts.] Sees himself in the mirror for the first time and doesn't recognize himself. Has as existential crisis but because he's Jace, he channels the dread into wanting to keep fighting.

This is very short since it's a scene with no dialogue, just one character, and just one major plot point. Some of my summaries are 10x longer, especially for things like trials, small council scenes, battles, and other big events.

#4: Actually start writing the prose

Because you've done step #3, you won't be staring at a blank document and actually know how everything will play out. Without having to worry about plot consistency or inaccuracies since you've ironed that out in the previous step, you can focus on just making these things sound evocative or beautiful or punchy or comforting or angsty or whatever mood you want to communicate with your prose. The summary that was 55 words ended up being 750+ words after this step, and I breezed through it in one sitting.

#5: Plug the prose into a text-to-speech program

I don't have a beta-reader so this is basically my beta-reading step. There are plenty of free TTS apps out there and any of them will do. The goal here is to catch typos, see which lines sound clunky, repetitive, or disjointed, and make corrections accordingly. I listen to my own writing while doing chores, walking, or any other mundane task, and I find it the most enjoyble part of this process because it fills me with such a sense of accomplishment having that sort of tangibility in hearing my work.

Just to clarify, this is the process that I've tailored for my own personal needs and preferences. Every writer is different — some need to have a mood board or reference images or find summarizing their chapters removes the joy of "discovering" as they write. All those methods are perfectly valid as long as they get you to actually put words other people can read on a page. But you can't discover your own personalized method unless you actually start writing. It will be slow earnings at first, but eventually you will craft it bit by bit through trial and error.

OTHER MISCELLANEOUS REASONS WHY I WRITE SO QUICKLY

My job is not emotionally or physically draining, so I have plenty of energy for creative pursuits. If you go home exhausted, don't force yourself to churn out words. If this starts feeling like a chore and not fun, that's your signal to rest and take a break.

I write primarily on my mobile device. Because of this, I can write during downtimes and my commutes. There are some writers who have to be in front of a desk, but I recommend at least trying it on your phone just to see if it works for you.

If I don't want to write about it, then I don't. Don't ever feel like you have to write about anything if you don't want to. If there's a big battle that happens but you get bored writing action? Just tell the readers it happened in one or two sentences — no need to devote a whole scene or chapter to it if it doesn't excite you. Same with time passing and travel. You don't have to fill the page with paragraphs explaining what the characters did if you just want to get them from point A to B. If it isn't fun to write about, then your readers most likely won't have fun reading it either.

I don't care if it's not the best that I can do. Often, I do think I could have written certain things better and added more. But eh, it's fanfiction. It's a hobby. The fact that it exists and I created something is already an accomplishment and the desire to endlessly finetune gets in the way of that.

I have a community of fellow fanfic writers I can bounce ideas off of. Honestly, I got lucky with this one and just got invited to random server one day. But you can usually find discord servers with fellow fanfic writers linked in your fandom's subreddit.

I don't have twitter, instagram, tiktok, or other social media time sinks that might distract me from my hobby. This one speaks for itself. Tumblr is really the only place you can find me.

Anyway, I think that's pretty much it. I suggest starting small with a one-shot or short story, and then expanding from there. Happy writing, and remember, the goal really is to just have fun and be proud you made something with your own two hands (so absolutely NO AI).

[rawliverandcigarettes]

welp I just exploded my laptop's screen because I am incredibly fucking stupid, so happy teop day and there might be some delayyyy

[verminvamp]

Come to ao3...come to ao3..(I am reeling you in like a fish)

UgH finE…

buT itS youR faulT iF I geT thE ao3 authoR cursE ~,..,~

[aeithalian]

WIP excerpt #1

hey so remember that post i made with the theory about estelle? And the fic I said I was writing? totally unrelated to this (wink wink)

He sniffed, wondering if it would be excused for something other than honest tears in the biting mix of cold wind and smoke. The funeral pyres crackled lowly, and he vaguely wondered how long he'd been standing there, alone, watching the bodies of children crumble to ash.

The unforgiving shape of the charms on the necklace felt dull against his numb fingers. Beads, one for each of her summers. And another charm, one his fingers didn't recognize. Looking down, he saw a glimmer of metal underneath the black coat of soot. Wiping the grime and clinging ash away with his thumb, he saw it for what it was: a tiny sun, intricately crafted from gold, strung along in between her beads, his own name swirling around the center in Greek.

He looked back up, to where he knew her body burned again. He wished it didn't have to be fire.

His eyes burned with smoke, then with fatigue as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and the only light came from a sliver of the moon and the glowing coals.

He heard someone approach, and it was only in the light of the moon he could see who it was, with that precious mortal child clinging to her hip. Her free hand clasped his, the one that wasn't holding the necklace.

"I pray you never feel this," he said, his voice croaky after hours of disuse.

She didn't say anything; probably, she was praying the same. He wondered who she prayed to.

He tore his eyes away from the embers, and, clearing his throat, turned around and followed her up the hill.

"It's sad," he said, "but I think us gods have much more practice burying our children than raising them."

[madmag-running]

Chapter 14: King of Mycenae

Beginning of Part II

It's been a rough week, being kidnapped and held at gunpoint will do that to you. Good thing everyone's back together again.

[lexlightning2002]

I am back you guyyyyssss :0

I FINALLY had success and got my license, I am now happily drivin' around :D

ALSO I posted chapter 10 of Can we get back to yesterday?

AND I TELL YOU this chapter is gayer than I am for shure, many feels, much crying and very relatable. I hope you like it and if you do leave some kudos!

I hope ur alright guys and See ya around, I might have something which I'll post soon👀