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thediktatortot · 2 years ago

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I just had a idea:

Billy and Eddie hit it off really well when Billy first moved into Hawkins. Neither of them were able to hide each other's affections for very long either, falling into a hard and fast type of romance that both of them were having a blast in, having the time of their lives and didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

Then Billy dies in the Starcourt mall fire and Eddie's drifting and no one knows why. It's why he fails highschool for a second time and has to push everything to the side long enough to help Wayne pay the bills and keep his weed habit paid for.

Then Eddie comes face to face with the very evil he's been told took down Billy, took Billy away and snuffed him out like he was water to a flame. It's all stacked against him though, his heart, his life, his luck.

Eddie's taken from them too and so goes the last person who knew about the secret love that Billy could have given them.

------ The Crow AU (Hold the Crow Familiar)------

Billy doesn't know how he's breathing, but he's taking in sharp bursts of breath as he crawls up from rubble that had apparently been dozed over him, fingers breaking concrete and bending bars in his struggle to make it to freedom.

He's filled with a rage he can't seem to let go of and it fuels him to break himself out and into the open air. He's in an abandoned work site. He's hurting though, a fiery pain seeming to radiate through his body simply because his mind is telling him that's what he should feel. He has to look at himself to see there's nothing wrong. It still feels like something's there, like his bones are just at the cusp of breaking beneath the weight of something heading his way.

He's confused and disoriented but the longer he walks the more small bits of things come back to him. He remembers fire and bangs of light that make his heart race and he can remember the sound of glass breaking and his sight leaving him for just a while, his legs shaking lightly as though he's close to passing out.

He also remembers crying, remembers searing hot pain all through his body as he struggled to breath through the oppressive heat of the air around him.

Billy's whole body thumps into the front door of his house when he tries to open it, staring at the handle for a moment before realizing his key didn't open the door.

There's also a car he's never seen parked in the driveway, a flowery mailbox that wasn't there before, and below his feet there's a doormat that says "Welcome to our House".

It takes Billy a few moments of looking at all these details before he turns and walks away, now heading down the street to another house that he remembers in his head. It's a trailer Billy remembers, run down and dimly lit by the warm light swarming with moths that he had sat in front of on many occasions.

The smell of weed and cheap beer on top of the smell of recently cooked burgers comes over him as he remembers looking up at that light, making some comment about turning it off and someone replying in a tangy sounding voice that sends shivers down his spine.

This is a good memory.

Billy wants more of that, but the haze of pain and fire clouds his thoughts as he makes his way down the dark road towards the trailer in his memories.

It's dark when he gets there, the police tape surrounding the neighborhood having been ripped down and there's no lights on coming from inside the trailer. There's police tape there too, blocking off entrance to the front door and surrounding the property in broken waves.

Billy makes his way inside slowly, the police tape breaking against his stride as he steps into the trailer and shuts himself inside.

Something happened here, Billy can feel that, stepping on the moist carpeted living room as he feels a sense of dread building up inside of himself. He looks up at the dark stain ripping through the ceiling of the trailer's inner walls and it's like he can watch it happen with all his senses.

He is Chrissy Cunningham, he is also Vecna watching her as he claws into her mind and into her most vulnerable memories and claws her mind away like meat from a shell.

He hears screaming, so much screaming and he can't tell if it's himself or Chrissy or Eddie-

Eddie. Eddie. Where is Eddie?

Billy stumbles away from where Chrissy was ripped out of this world and into the hallway, dragging mud and dirt along the old carpet floors as he stumbles into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

It's like being shot over and over, the memories of Eddie crashing into him one after another as both the wide smile of his goofy grin and quick energy of Eddie's personality is quickly over imposed with blood and the sound of shrill cries.

He is both the Demobats and Vecna, watching as Eddie is mowed down by droves and picked apart one flap of his wing at a time.

Billy cant scream anymore, his voice raw and broken as he falls to his knees in the middle of the trashed bedroom and cries. It hurts so bad. It hurts like nothing else Billy has ever experienced, he had something good, something happy and fun and it was all taken away from him, taken away from Eddie.

And now Billy's here and Eddie's gone and he can only imagine how it felt for Eddie to loose Billy. Did he cry? Did he feel such a gaping loss as though it was a cavern inside of his chest that would never get shallower? Was the thought of getting up and trying again just another painful drag of the claws of sudden loss as bad for Eddie as it is for Billy?

Now he's angry.

The rage Billy first felt as he struggle to open his eyes and claw his way from the rubble is back and the only thing Billy can't think about is revenge. What left is there for Billy? His life is gone, his only connections are gone, the one person who had given Billy the time of day to show his true self is gone.

What would Eddie do?

Probably put on a show, turn up the music and say 'fuck it' as the world fell down around him.

Billy's already on his feet and moving towards the bathroom, opening and closing draws until he finds what he wants and dumps out a old box of shitty gas station brand makeup he knew Eddie kept for his gig nights.

It's ridiculous but Billy feels like he has to do this, has to find some thing that connects him to Eddie as he sets out on his mission. It'll be his mask, his own performance like Eddie would have cheered him on to do.

It's not perfect and it's smudged around the edges but Billy can't help but stare at himself in the dark bathroom mirror after he's nearly smashed the pencil liner between his fingers.

He looks ridiculous.

Eddie loved ridiculous.

With a wide grin at the mirror to himself, he feels like he can feel Eddie with him, the smell of his hair next to his face and the tangy voice of his telling him to embrace chaos and he's gone, dipping out into the night to enact his chaotic plan of vengeance.

#Mungrove #Ficlet #Billy Hargrove #Eddie Munson #Crow AU #Hold the Crow Familiar #I wanted to add the crow familiar but I just couldn't get it to vibe with my writing #The Crow Billy Hargrove

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mrsjellymunson · 20 days ago

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“He looked up at his splintered reflection. The tragedy mask a haunting echo of his own face. If that is what life wanted for him, he’d give it one hell of a show.”

This is utter poetry, and one of my favourite lines that I’ve ever read anywhere ever

🖤🖤🖤

I’m such a confused goth, if indeed I actually am one. I love pink and glitter (and, apparently, bears dressed up as ST characters.; it’s for sure a niche hyperfixation but I’m leaning into it). My bones and skeleton decorations are either gold or destined to be decorated with brightly coloured flowers (or both). And I don’t know where to put my bat collection because they just don’t ‘go’ with anything… But bleeding heart? For this? Oh, for sure…

Part Three: I used to think that was true about everything

Eddie Munson x Reader Series Masterlist 2923 Words

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

Warnings: canon typical violence, references to sexual assault, swearing, drug and alcohol use, sexual references, child neglect, death/grief, references to organised crime

Night, October 29, 1995

Eddie sat at your vanity. The ceiling of the apartment leaked, rendering anything left behind rotted and ruined; it didn’t stop him looking for pieces of you. He avoided his reflection’s gaze, instead looked at the tragedy mask hooked over the mirror.

He couldn’t remember where it had come from, only that you would try to sneak up on each other, screaming BOO! with the mask on. Eventually, you’d grown so accustomed to the thing that its miserable face didn’t make either of you feel much.

Eddie clenched his jaw.

He remembered crawling across you on the couch in the mask. You’d laughed and kissed him through it.

He remembered curling up in your arms in bed. You’d say, “I love you,” and he’d make you say it again and again. You hugged him so hard his ribs hurt.

He remembered you standing in front of the stove, a pot on fire, and you failing to put it out. Eddie had come jumping through the room, throwing a towel over it. He’d looked at you and you’d just grinned. “Restaurant,” he’d said on a breath out, pulling you into him.

He remembered standing across the room from you, you noticing him and asking what was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanna look at you,” he told you with a grin.

Eddie looked away from the mask. He pulled open the top drawer of the vanity. Waterlogged journals and entirely drowned photos. He could make out the shape of you in them and it made him ache. Beneath those, a bridal catalogue.

The night he proposed. The way you said yes like you’d been waiting your whole life to answer.

Your wedding dress. White and fluffy and not as Robert Smith chic as he’d expected. So, so beautiful nonetheless.

He remembered reciting creepy nursery rhymes in creepier voices at you, “Down with the lambs, up with the lark. Run to bed children, before it gets dark.” He’d chase you around the apartment while you screamed in delight.

All the time spent silently working on your own things. Eddie would write music or plan his next D&D campaign while you worked on puzzles, complaining whenever there was a piece missing.

He remembered fights with cans of whipped cream. Shared showers to wash it out.

Belts unbuckled and beds unmade.

Eddie slammed the drawer shut, the mirror shattering with the force. He looked up at his splintered reflection. The tragedy mask a haunting echo of his own face. If that is what life wanted for him, he’d give it one hell of a show.

It wasn’t the first time Eddie had painted his face. Though grunge was taking over most of the bars he grew up in, Eddie was a metalhead through and through. The black and white was stark, unnerving, and unhinged.

He found dry clothes in the wardrobe, behind a couple rows of motheaten band shirts and your favourite outfits. Nothing smelt like you anymore. He couldn’t feel you in any of it.

Eddie walked to the window, the empty space framed by glittering glass and snapped wood. He looked out onto the city. The fires had started a day before Devil’s Night even began.

The knife thrower, Eddie thought. Andy. He’d be first. A show of strength to begin the campaign.

“Here’s to Devil’s Night… My favourite holiday,” Neil Hargrove said.

The men shot down cheap liquor and dared each other to swallow a bullet. They took turns, letting the metal sit on their tongues, then gulped it down like it was a miracle drug that would turn them into something more than men.

Other people in The Pit watched, half impressed with the commitment to show, half terrified of what they’d do next. Brenner’s men were untouchable live wires, prone to fits of rage and acts of cruelty. They were just as likely to pull their guns on each other as they were to erupt into their signature unison chanting.

Susan Mayfield shook as she walked over to the table, steadying herself not to spill a drop of their drinks. It didn’t matter that she shared a bed with Neil. They all scared her.

Eventually, when they got sick of each other’s faces, they stumbled out the bar and into the night. Their crimes would not end, but their individual brands of sickness necessitated time alone.

Andy had loaded his pockets with stolen shit throughout the day. He walked to the pawn store three blocks down from the bar.

Gideon, who had a good thing going with Brenner and therefore wasn’t afraid of his men, snorted at Andy. “What’s this? This got blood on it, Tin Tin?” He offered a couple hundred. “Take it or leave it.”

Begrudgingly, Andy took it, mouthing off and slamming doors as he left.

Outside on the street, the crow watched.

Through the bird’s eyes, Eddie followed Andy. He ran across rooftops, faster than humanly possible. The spaces between buildings collapsed for him. If all those assholes from high school gym class could see him now.

In an alleyway lighting a cigarette stood Andy.

Eddie tumbled from the rooftop, landing with a manic kind of laughter that said abandon all hope. He stalked towards Andy.

Andy watched Eddie’s figure come from the darkness. “What the fuck you painted up for?” he sneered. “Halloween ain’t till Tuesday.”

Eddie kept coming towards him, and Andy buzzed with excitement. Violence! He opened his jacket, pulling out a knife. Eddie lunged and the men fought. It was easy for Eddie. He didn’t lose his breath. When he took a punch, he recovered immediately. Andy, a mere mortal man, grew incensed.

“I’ll kill you!” he roared, slashing his blade through the air.

It was a one-sided fight that began to end when Andy dropped his knife. Eddie grabbed him, yelling, “Murderer!”

Andy snorted. “What?! I didn’t murder nobody, man. I don’t even fucking know you. What d’you want?!”

“I want you to tell me a story,” Eddie replied, voice low and gravelly. “A man and a woman in a loft, a year ago. I’m sure you’ll remember. You killed them,”

“Yeah, yeah. Some dude. Some bitch. Whatever.”

He’d remembered so quickly, so easily. Like it meant nothing. Eddie threw another punch, Andy’s head bouncing off the brick wall behind him.

“Her name was…” But Eddie couldn’t do it. Couldn’t say your name out loud. “You cut her. You raped her,”

“Yeah? Sure, yeah. You know what? She loved it!”

Eddie froze, the callousness catching him off guard. Andy took the opportunity and headbutted him. Andy stood, grabbed at whatever he could, hand finding a metal pipe in the trash piled up in the alleyway. He started to beat Eddie with it.

“Murder?! Let me tell you about murder, man. It’s easy! It’s fun! You’re gonna learn aaaaaallll about it!” He pulled two knives from somewhere within his coat. “I’d like you to meet some buddies of mine… And we… We never miss.”

The crow shuffled, waiting from its position on a fire escape.

Andy threw the first knife; Eddie was already up, easily ducking it. He came marching forward. Andy threw another. Eddie blocked, grinning at Andy.

“Try harder. Try again!” he mocked.

Andy screamed, throwing a third knife – his last. Eddie clapped his palms around the blade, catching it midair. He redirected it back, piercing Andy’s shoulder.

Eddie walked to him casually, reaching into Andy’s jacket to find more weapons. “So, Andy. Which is it? Murderer or victim?” Andy was trapped. “We’re not all murderers, you know. But, victims?” he posed. “Aren’t we all?”

The crow took flight as Andy’s eyes closed.

Neil pushed his way through the dancing teens. He didn’t understand why Brenner bothered with this place. Why he let bands like that – what is it? metal? grunge? who fucking knows – play at the club. “What is the fuckin’ world coming to,” he muttered to himself. “Get the fuck out my way!”

He jogged up the back staircase, arriving on the second floor mezzanine. Grange, Brenner’s right hand man, stood stoic and vigilant.

“Hey, did you hear? Arcade Games fell down. It went BOOM! How ‘bout that,” Neil boasted.

“Gather your soldiers. You’re on for tomorrow night,”

“Is the man in?”

“He’s taking a meeting,” Grange replied.

Hopper watched as Andy’s body was lugged into a coroner’s van. He had six knives sticking out of his chest.

“So, who’s this sack of shit?” Callahan asked.

“That’s Tin Tin. One of T-Bird’s little helpers. I think you can rule out accidental death,”

“Don’t any of your street demons have real grown up names?”

“Could be a turf hit… but it doesn’t look like your usual gang crap,” Hopper thought out loud.

“And… what do you call that?”

Hopper and Callahan looked over to the closest building, its bricks graffitied in blood, the outline of a bird clear.

Gideon was counting the cash intake; the days before Devil’s Night were always good for business. Something caught his eye and he looked up, a silhouette of a man at the door.

“Piss off! We’re closed!” Gideon called.

The crow cawed. Eddie knocked on the security gate with three even bang, bang, bangs.

“Go sleep it off somewhere else, dust head! Unless you wanna get mutilated!”

Eddie ripped back the security gate and walked to the door. Gideon froze when he saw the painted tragedy mask through the glass. Eddie politely knock, knock, knocked.

Before he could do anything, Eddie was smashing his way in, looming over Gideon as the crow swooped, landing on the pawn shop’s counter. Gideon screeched in fright.

“Suddenly I heard a tapping, as if someone gently rapping – rapping at my chamber door,” Eddie recited.

“What-what the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“You heard me rapping, right?” Eddie asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You’re trespassing! You owe me a new door!”

Eddie smiled. “I’m looking for something… An engagement ring,”

“You’re looking for a coroner, shit-for-brains,” Gideon said, pulling a gun and levelling it straight at Eddie. He unclicked the safety, aimed, and shot.

Eddie stumbled back a few steps but didn’t fall. They both watched as the blood quickly rolled back into Eddie’s chest, the wound healing in seconds. Gideon felt his stomach drop and he scrambled, swearing and terrified. Eddie grinned, picking Gideon up and throwing him well behind the counter.

Eddie jumped from the floor to the counter, counter to one of the racks on the ceiling holding pawned guitars and other stolen items. He hung upside down in front of Gideon.

“Mr. Gideon, I do not like your tone. And you’re not paying attention!”

Eddie grabbed Gideon, pulling him back to the counter. He dropped from the ceiling rack and broke the glass countertop, pulling a switchblade out and piercing Gideon’s hand, earning a breathtaking scream from the man.

“A gold engagement ring. It was pawned here a year ago by a customer of yours named Andy,”

“I don’t know a-”

“Tin Tin… He confided in me before he ran out of breath.”

Eddie began to pull boxes off the shelves, going through everything in search of your engagement ring.

Gideon tried to free himself from where he was nailed to the counter. “What are you doing?!” he cried, unable to pull the blade out.

“Am I getting warmer?!” Eddie yelled back. “I like games, Mr. Gideon. Don’t you know this one?! Am. I. Getting. Warmer?”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you! The rings! They’re in a metal box under the shelf there!”

Eddie moved, finding the box. The world faded away as he sat cross legged on the pawn shop floor, holding the box yet apprehensive to open it, as if it belonged to Pandora herself.

Gideon continued to yell from the front of the shop. “Take them! Take them all! Chew on them! Choke on them! I don’t fucking care!”

Tentatively, Eddie opened the box and flicked through the jewellery. He closed his eyes and pulled ring after ring, feeling nothing. Then, it hit. The emotion washed over him.

You had been out with Max, a shopping trip to buy more grip tape and blank cassettes. When you unlocked the door and entered the apartment, Eddie jumped up from the couch.

“Hi…?” you greeted, suspicious of his mood.

He grinned.

“What did you do?” you asked. You looked around. Gabriel was sleeping peacefully under the coffee table. Nothing looked broken. There were no magic beans bought in place of real food.

“Why do you always ask that?” Eddie laughed, letting you put your bags down before pulling you into him.

“Because you’re you. And you have that weird little smile on your face.”

Eddie laughed again. “I have a surprise for you,”

“Good surprise or bad surprise?”

“Good. Always good for you, my love.”

He was definitely acting strange, but you went with it. “Okay…”

“It’s up in the attic,”

“If this is like the time you-”

“No! I promise! No tricks. It’s good. I promise. It’s good.”

Eddie’s big brown eyes were sincere, so you let him pull the ladder down and direct you up it. Slowly, you climbed, heart beating out of your chest.

You felt the warmth before your eyes settled on all the candles. The entire small space was filled with tealight and cathedral candles. Eddie tried to gauge your reaction from below.

There was something close by, your attention directed to it by a lack of candles between you and it. A small, dark box. A ring box.

You reached out for it. Inside was a golden ring, beautiful and ethereal. Like something the elves from Eddie’s favourite book would wear. Your breath caught in your throat and you took one step down the ladder to look at him.

Eddie said your name. Your eyes welled up with tears.

“I love you. I love you so much,” he started.

Gideon watched as Eddie poured gasoline across the shop.

“You have one chance at living,” Eddie told him as he picked up a shotgun and aimed it at Gideon.

“Take anything you want! Take anything!”

“Thank you,” Eddie replied too gracefully. “Now, you’re gonna tell me where to find the rest of Tin Tin’s little party pals,”

“The Pit! They all hang out at The Pit! All of T-Bird’s little potato heads hang out there! Funboy lives in a room above it!”

Eddie nodded, almost placated. He used the butt of the gun to smash at the remaining in-tact counters. He pulled a tray of rings out from the cabinet and began throwing them at Gideon.

“Each of these? It’s a life… A life you helped destroy.” One after the other, Eddie threw the rings.

Gideon begged for his life.

“I’m not gonna kill you… Your job will be to tell the rest of them that it’s time to roll for initiative… Tell them Eddie Munson sends his regards.”

Eddie poured the remainder of the rings down the barrel of the shotgun, pulled a guitar off the wall, and began to walk out of the shop.

“You walk outta here and they’re gonna erase your sorry ass! You hear me? You’re nothing but street grease!”

“Is that gasoline I smell?” Eddie quipped, looking back over his shoulder with a wicked grin.

Gideon froze again.

The crow followed Eddie onto the street. There were maybe five seconds for Gideon to free himself and run, then the ring-loaded shot set the shop ablaze.

Eddie watched for only a moment before he heard the cop car pull up behind him. He turned and watched Hopper get out, pulling his pistol.

“Police! Don’t move!”

Eddie took a step.

“I said don’t move!”

“I thought the police always said freeze,” Eddie wondered.

“Well, I am the police, and I say don’t move, Snow White. You move, you’re dead.”

Eddie shrugged and slung the guitar over his body. “And I say, I’m dead and I move.” He held his hands up but continued to walk towards Hopper.

“Not one more step. I’m serious.” Hopper removed the safety.

“Then shoot, if you will, Detective Hopper,” Eddie said, bowing before the cop.

“What are you, nuts? Walking into a gun? You high?”

“Not right now. You don’t remember me?”

“What are you talking about?” An eerie feeling was settling over Hopper.

Eddie said your name then. “What about her? Do you remember her?”

Hopper hesitated. “She’s, uh, dead, my friend… I want you to move over to the curb there. Real nice and easy… We’re gonna wait for backup… This is… It’s all getting too friggin’ weird for me.”

Eddie nodded, slowly moved over to the sidewalk and took a seat in the gutter. He looked up at Hopper. “Do you know someone named Hargove? He had a friend who shouldn’t have played with knives…” Eddie motioned to himself, to the coat he was wearing. “Like it?”

Hopper recognised it. Realised it hadn’t been with the body. “You’re… You’re the guy that killed Tin Tin?”

“He was already dead… He died a year ago, the moment he touched her. They’re all dead. They just don’t know it yet.”

With his pistol still on Eddie, Hopper glanced over at Gideon’s shop. Looters had already appeared, taking whatever they could carry. “Get away from there!” he yelled, his sights leaving Eddie a second too long.

When Hopper looked back, Eddie was gone.

“What the… Guy shows up looking like a mime from hell and you lose him out in the open?” Hopper scolded himself.

End Note: Thank you for the support thus far. I love all you little bleeding heart goths. xo Rhi

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#YOU’RE RIPPING MY HEART OUT #crow au #crow!eddie munson #crowxST au

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