#STWG Hozier Project | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

penny00dreadful · 10 months ago

Text

AO3

Death had visited Hawkins many times in the last few years, far too many times for their liking if they were being honest.

The twisted and unnatural things that had gone on within that small town were against Nature and Death was a part of Nature.

The cycle of the world was just one great big event of Life and Death but there had been so much here.

They remembered coming for Barbara Holland and though it might have seemed unfair, it was her time. Death didn’t take anyone before their time but at the very least they tried to bring her some peace, letting her see the stars one last time from underneath the water of the pool and letting the stars see her right back, twinkling above her as the water held her close.

Bob’s passage was less gentle. Stuck inside where nature couldn’t reach, torn and shredded and in agony, but still, Death tried to make his passing less terrifying, softly caressing his face and enveloping him in their dark wings quickly, not wanting him to be in pain any longer than he needed to be.

The others after that were more difficult.

A great big mess of people in a damp basement who did not deserve to go the way they did, disintegrating into a sludge of bodies, only to be puppeteered by a vile excuse for a human, then killed again. Nature had been forced to twist away from that one.

Death couldn’t do anything for them, no matter how they tried, there were just too many and too quickly, but still they hugged them all close and brought them to their passing.

It was times like those when Death wondered if their quiet, curious fascination with human life was something that was even worth continuing.

Humanity had such a talent for killing each other en masse and Death would be forced to observe, along with the grass and the trees and the clouds and the wind.

But humanity kept pulling their focus back. There was such a capacity for them to love each other too, even though sometimes they were hated for it.

For the simple act of love.

Death watched as the two boys, children themselves really, though forced to become so much older, parted with a kiss at the Quarry, forced into a clandestine meeting after they had saved the world because of other people’s hate.

The wind tried to push them away, urging them to run, to move faster, to push themselves out of the series of events barrelling towards them but the boys just laughed, brushing hair from each other’s face before leaning in again.

The Quarry echoed up towards them, hoping to spook them into jumping into their own cars and peeling out of there at high speed, but the boys didn’t notice, too wrapped up in each other.

The evening sky watched on in silence, unable to do anything about the incoming storm and the small group gathering on the other side of town, ignorant and fearful and wanting to hurt in return.

Death had visited Eddie Munson before, just once. Not to take him, but to help him hold on. It wasn’t his time to die, no matter what others in the town thought.

The boy was loud and brash and passionate, bursting at the seams with life and energy and light and Death didn’t want to see that pass unnecessarily. They refused to take him before they were due to.

They had leaned down, brushing a light kiss against his lips and had stepped back as his friends and one boy in particular threw themselves down next to him.

Steve Harrington had received multiple visits from Death over the years.

Their first meeting had come on the tail end of a vicious beating and a plate over the head. The ground below him had shuddered with the impact and while the children around him screamed and he lay unconscious on the floor, Death had flapped their wings and flared that dying spark of life back up into a flame.

Barely a year later they had gone underground and brushed their fingers through his hair, while a girl spat in another man’s face. They could feel the earth around them try to reach out to support, but being held back by metal walls and a sickening aura from another world.

Then again only a day later while the sky and the sunlight and the pollen could only watch through the windows, Death took his hand, pulling life back into him from his slumped position on the couch he’d been sleeping on, still in his uniform.

The next time was more difficult. Trapped in another world that Death couldn’t reach, if Steve died there, then he’d be there forever. But the boy had just managed to make it back to the other side, cradling Eddie’s body close.

It wasn’t until he stepped back outside the hospital, all of his responsibilities temporarily being watched over by nurses and doctors and he had screamed, harsh and loud and bloody into the night. He collapsed, the dirt below trying to cushion him from hurting himself more than he already had been.

Death had stayed with him until someone found him, keeping him warm in their arms, but never closing their wings, not all the way.

It wasn’t his time.

They watched as both boys came together, feeling young again, even though they had to hide. But they found happiness in each other, even if others could only look on in confusion or anger, threatened by what they refused to understand.

The group across town began to move, intent on driving him out of town for good this time, believing him to be a stain on their pristine lawns.

It was ridiculous and Death could do nothing to stop it.

They watched as Steve buzzed around his empty home, getting dinner prepared for himself, full of light and love.

When the group arrived, they didn’t announce their presence with a polite knock on the door but with a rock through the window, followed quickly by glass and gasoline and fire.

With the window broken, wind could now enter but it stayed away, not wanting to fan the flames as Steve gripped his bat, slowly and carefully walking back towards his patio door.

There were only six of them, but six against one were still terrible odds, no matter the creatures Steve had fought in the past.

His walkie was out of reach, sitting innocently in the kitchen along with the landline and his dinner burning on the stove, too far out of reach.

There was a scramble of movement as they broke through the windows, through the front door.

Jason’s parents, Andy Johnson, that dog walker, Steve’s own neighbours and Chrissy Cunningham's younger brother were amongst the crowd and wasn't that the most devastating thing?

Whipped up into a frenzy of hate and fear at barely twelve years old, by those supposed to look out for him, believing they were teaching him to take care of his town, handing the future to him.

Because of course they chose Steve to hunt.

He was one of them. He should be one of them. He was the one their daughters should be bringing home, the one they should be shaking hands with in church or sharing beers with.

Eddie was already an outsider. He wasn't a reflection of them. He didn't hold a mirror up, showing how much they could change, how far they could fall, how empty all of them were inside.

But these were the people Steve used to associate with. They saw him as more of a blight on the town than any of the other outsiders because he used to be them and if he could fall, then they must be able to too, right?

So they had to tear and scratch and burn to convince themselves that no, he was, is in fact wrong. He had always been that way. He was never right, not like them. No, they could never fall the way he did.

He was a disease and so they had to cut the disease out, had to eradicate any trace in case the infection spread.

As much as everyone pretended the religious fervour had died down, the town had only just gotten a taste.

It had whet their appetite for mob mentality and they were thirsty for more, feeling they were morally full to the brim but were in fact starved of compassion, blind to anything outside of their own comfort.

They claimed to be loving, to be healing, to be all welcoming with plastic smiles and greedy eyes but they would run anyone over who stepped a foot out of line.

And unfortunately, Steve stepped out of line. He broke the mould and they believed they had to punish him for it.

The patio door crashed open and Steve was running out towards the woods before they could find him, his old home billowing thick black smoke at his back.

Death knew his parents wouldn't care. The insurance pay out from the fire would be more than enough to soften the blow, cosy in their new home in New York City.

They would never publicly acknowledge what happened here but privately they would thank their neighbours for their crusade.

The grass could feel the thud, thud, thud of fearful running footsteps. Broken twigs and slippery leaves caught him unawares and were apologetic but powerless to do anything about it as shouts full of hate and the frenetic energy of bloodlust followed him into the woods.

The trees that surround them, that had shielded Steve and the chasing group alike whenever they needed it, could feel when he was disarmed and the bat was thrown to the side, the bloodsoaked nails digging into the earth as it fell.

None of them were brave enough to use such a deadly weapon against him, fearing too much the consequences of being the one to pick it up and undoubtedly have the responsibility of killing him, and Steve was not enough of a coward to use the bat against the group.

Strikes landed against the trees, from fists that missed him and from impacts travelling through Steve’s body and into the wood, cracking their bark and flaking it off. The earth soaked up the blood that was spilled heavy and hot but too metallic for nutrition.

Adrenaline came fast and hard but left just as quickly and when the group looked at what they had done, the haze of anger and righteous indignation no longer thick enough to colour their perception of their actions, they took a step back, each of them sickened somewhere deep inside by what they had done but none of them were bold enough to admit it to the other.

Steve was still full of the need to keep living so he took an opportunity where he saw it, forcing his broken body to run again in a slightly delirious way, making it back to his car.

The group didn’t follow immediately but it wouldn’t take long for them to realise that Steve knew each and every one of them and that maybe allowing him to get away alive might no longer have been an option.

Death could see Steve peel out of his driveway, his car always at the front of the house and ready to go after years of dealing with the end of the world.

Across town, Eddie was practising a new piece on his guitar, full of joyful energy and barely able to contain his excitement when he got it right, almost jumping for joy and eager to tell Steve the next time he saw him.

Robin was in her room, pouring over books on cryptography, a fascination for her that began in the back room of an ice-cream parlour and hasn’t left her since. She had come to terms with the fact that this might be what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, but she would have to travel far to be able to study it, unsure of how to bring it up to her soulmate because she wanted him to come with her and to bring along his new love as well.

But still it would be a big change.

A big conversation.

The kids sat in the basement of the Wheeler home, giving Will back his DM seat, just between them. It was an apology for all that they had discounted his passions before, just like Steve had advised them to do and the bond between all of them glowed ever brighter.

The blinking stars watched as the car veered, swaying dangerously at speed from one side of the road to the other.

The crunch of metal and the impact splintered some of the thinner trees, leaves and branches falling onto the scene below, one sputtering headlight pointing out into the forest, a lighthouse in the night.

Somewhere in town a walkie crackled to life.

The skies opened up and the rain did what it could to help, washing the blood away and Death descended.

Steve blinked his eyes open.

“Hello.”

Death was unable to respond for a moment, but eventually replied, “Hello.”

“I’ve seen you before.”

“Too many times.”

Death crouched low, one wing extended over them, to keep the rain off his face.

“Am I coming with you? There’s so much left I need to do.”

Death heard it all before. People begged for more time, offering a card game for their soul, but Death doesn’t trade in souls. That was not their business.

They would always promise Death other lives, other deaths in place of their own, money, power, glory, kingdoms, countries if they would just let them live a little while longer.

It never worked and Death never bargains.

Their time was their time and nothing on earth would ever be able to change that.

Death was nothing if not fair.

But even so, Steve didn’t beg. He didn’t try to bargain or trick. He was just asking. He wanted to know what to expect.

“No.” They answered. “Not yet.”

Death got down to their knees, hovering over him, close enough to throw him into shadow.

“But eventually?”

They nodded. “Everyone comes with me eventually.”

They lowered themselves down, pressing their lips softly against Steve’s as his eyes slipped closed again.

“But not you. Not today.”

On the road just behind them, a deer jumped out, bounding across the black expanse, spooked by a branch a nearby tree dropped, sacrificed just in time.

Tires screeched to a halt.

The wind had been at their back the entire time.

Birds are sent flapping frantically into the sky as the screams of Steve’s friends and love rip through the air.

Death watched from above as they did everything in their power to get him out, get him to safety.

When he was eventually taken to a larger hospital in the city Steve was watched over at every available second by a slowly revolving door of people who would not leave him, even if Death themselves asked them to.

Steve never stepped foot back in Hawkins again after he crashed just beyond the ‘Now Leaving Hawkins’ sign, but he was not without his people.

The family that Steve had built up around him were merciless in their judgement of the town. Those who were able to, leave immediately. Eddie and Wayne only enter Hawkins again to gather up their most prized of prized possessions, happy to never ever look back on it, no matter what might crawl out of the ground.

Robin and her parents, who had come to see Steve as a second son, followed not long after.

Some of the kids' parents were more ready to leave than others, but eventually they all did, all of them disturbed and terrified and angry.

Every single one of Steve’s family was happy to leave the town to rot without them, there was nothing left for them there anymore.

They all follow him.

Every single one.

And he is once again surrounded.

Everyone he had ever helped, ever loved, ever stood in front of them and Death for.

They all surround him and they are all there, many, many years later when Death comes for him for the last time. His family was waiting on either side of the veil for him, old and grey and wrinkled.

But they were all there for him.

AO3

Based off of Take Me To Church

All my love to @hbyrde36, my friend and beta for screaming with me over this.

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Hozier Project

Gonna tag @griefabyss69 and @starryeyedjanai who sent in asks about this fic for a previous WIP Weekend post. 🖤

#stwg #STWG Hozier Project #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #hozier songfic #take me to church #hozier #take me to church songfic

202 notes · View notes

hbyrde36 · 10 months ago

Text

Honey, You're Familiar

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Hozier Project

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

WC limit: 3000 | Song prompt: From Eden by Hozier

Rating: G | WC: 2998 | also on ao3

Steve and Eddie had been best friends since The Beginning.

From the moment angels were blinked into existence, in a flurry of wide powerful wings and otherworldly beauty, they were inseparable, happy, right up until God made something new.

Humans.

Curious creatures with souls and hearts capable of a full spectrum of emotions, given the one thing angels had been denied.

Free will.

Eddie hated them. Part of their job as angels was to watch over these new creations, but the more they watched, the more withdrawn Eddie became.

He claimed God favored them, these beings who hardly knew of divine existence and whose lifespans were so short they barely mattered in the grand scheme of things. Steve disagreed, arguing that God didn’t play favorites, and surely, even if They did, the angels who’d been gifted with power and immortality were the preferred children.

They debated about it– a lot, until friendly arguments turned into shouting matches.

Was this anger?

This unpleasant thing that served no purpose except to make Eddie fly away from him in a huff. Was it sorrow that made his friend’s eyes shimmer, his lips turn down in that awful way?

Eddie was changing, and Steve didn’t know what to do. He much preferred the days when they could laugh and smile together. It always left him feeling warm inside.

“You envy them.” Steve accused one day when Eddie was especially prickly. “Why? Is it not enough to be as you are and live here in Heaven with God? With me?”

“No! It’s not enough!”

Eddie’s hands wound into his own hair and pulled, as if he’d tear it out from the root. “Why do they get the freedom to form such relationships? Why do they get to have it, and I don’t?!”

Steve tilted his head, perplexed. “To have what?”

“Love!”

“But, you do.” Steve said, still not understanding. “God loves us, and we love Them.”

Eddie sighed mournfully, all the fight draining out of him at once. “It’s not their love I ache for, Steve.”

It was no surprise when Eddie sided with Lucifer in the war and consequently fell from Heaven. Steve was there when it happened, forced to bear witness to the first and greatest loss he’d ever known.

He was… sad, when Eddie was gone.

Steve tried to pretend otherwise, but whenever he was alone and he thought of how he would never see his friend again, his eyes leaked and he would feel a terrible pain in his chest.

Was he broken?

He hadn’t thought angels were capable of such sentiments, but that couldn’t be true. Eddie’d had these things, feelings. They were what led him on his doomed path.

It was possible, it just wasn’t allowed.

He did his best to go on as before. It was difficult, nearly impossible sometimes, but it all became easier when a new flock of angels was made to replace their numbers, and Robin came barreling into his life.

Part of him wanted to resist, to keep the space next to him forever empty, preserving the memory of who’d been there before, but he’d been alone for so long.

Robin grew on him, and they quickly became close. While she could never replace Eddie, their friendship went a long way in filling the hole losing him had left behind.

They complimented each other well. Where Steve was quiet and contemplative these days, Robin talked almost constantly. Not one to sit in silence, she always preferred to fill it.

Just like Eddie.

They were quite alike actually, Eddie and Robin. Steve couldn't help thinking that if they’d ever met they would’ve become fast friends, or killed one another.

Things were ok for a while, Steve managed, until he was sent to Earth for the first time. He begged Robin to come along, nervous to walk amongst the humans when he’d only ever watched from afar, but she wasn’t allowed.

Guardian angel for a day. An easy job, mostly watching and waiting, ensuring his charge remained safe. In all likelihood, he wouldn’t even be needed.

The human in question was a kind older man, who ran a small coffee counter in a park, in a city Steve couldn't remember the name of. He ordered a drink and took a seat, doing his best to go unnoticed.

He observed much over the course of the day. Joyous reunions and somber goodbyes. First kisses and last kisses, and not one but two chance meetings where sparks flew. It was a magical thing to see someone find their soulmate.

Steve returned to Heaven with a heavy heart.

It'd been a very long time since their last conversation, but he could still hear Eddie’s voice… how resigned it had sounded, how devastated, when he’d looked at him and said “It’s not their love I ache for.”

Finally, he got it. Eddie had loved him.

Steve loved Eddie too, though he hadn’t realized it back then, so caught up in what they were supposed to be. He’d witnessed it up close now, love. Recognized it and the power it held, even as it made the wielder feel powerless.

It was agony.

Unable to hold it in anymore, he told Robin.

It was probably the most words he’d ever said to her at once. He didn’t mention Eddie’s name, or admit whether the object of his desire was angel or otherwise. He didn’t want to rebel, but he couldn’t continue on as if nothing had changed. Couldn’t live the lie anymore. He was supposed to love only God, and it simply wasn’t true.

Robin said he should talk to God, convinced that They had grown softer since the fall. Steve wasn’t so sure about that but he trusted her, and had little choice.

Thankfully, she’d been right. God was understanding, in Their way, and not wishing to see Steve so unhappy decided to gift him– a chance.

He didn’t know what it meant, and that was as ominous as it was thrilling. It had felt a little too easy, in the end. All he knew was he was bound for earth, and as he prepared for the journey he could only wonder what the catch would be.

Steve woke up feeling like he’d been having the strangest dream. He couldn't recall the details apart from a beautiful boy’s face framed in soft dark curls, but wasn’t that always the way?

He hopped out of bed with a spring in his step. It was a big day, the grand opening of his and Robin’s new coffee shop and he couldn't wait to greet their first customers.

Eddie cut ties with Lucifer shortly after the fall, uninterested in trading one leader demanding blind faith and allegiance for another.

He was still a demon, technically, as were all who fell, but although he hated humans, he had no desire to harm them.

He wasn’t evil, he was angry.

At them, at God, even Steve, but mostly at himself.

He’d let his feelings overtake his sense, and in his effort to fight for more he’d somehow wound up with less, only managing to get himself banished– sent as far away from the one he loved as it was possible to be.

Eddie didn’t spend much time on Earth, still too bitter. He wasn’t exactly welcome in Hell either, but over the years had found his fair share of quiet corners to inhabit.

He kept in touch with some others who’d also refused to follow Lucifer as he made the transition from fallen angel to Devil. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. They became friends, of a sort. Kept an eye on eachother, gave warnings of trouble on the horizon, and a heads up about other interesting goings-on.

Which was how Eddie found out about the first time Steve set foot on earth.

He’d gotten rip-roaring drunk once, on a rare night where all the boys were together in one place, and spilled his guts about Steve.They teased him a little, but only in good fun. They’d had their own motivations for taking up the cause and agreed love was as good a reason as any.

When Gareth came by to say an angel had been spotted in Central Park who bared a striking resemblance to his Steve, Eddie panicked. He’d been existing as if he’d never see the angel again, because he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t, and spent many long years pushing it all down, pretending he didn’t care anymore because it was the only way he could function.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to the surface, his heart becoming a gaping wound, open to the world all over again.

He wanted to go to him, of course he did, but it’d been eons since they last spoke. Would Steve want to see him? Would he care? Even if he did, what would it matter?

It would change nothing.

Deciding it would be more painful to see him now and lose him all over again than to never see him at all, Eddie buried his head in the sand. By the time it hit him that regardless of the pain he’d regret not going forever, it was too late. Steve was gone, nothing but an empty cup of coffee on a table to prove he’d been there at all.

When fate conspired only days later to give Eddie a second chance, he knew he couldn’t waste it.

He’d gotten an address from Jeff and had to huff a laugh when he spotted the place. A cute little indie coffee shop. Was Steve the fucking coffee fairy now or something?

The front of the cafe was a wall of windows, and Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as he spotted Steve through the glass. He froze with his hand on the door, unsure if he was ready to face whatever was about to happen.

Steve stood behind the counter next to a girl with a mischievous smile, laughing raucously at something she’d said. His eyes shone bright, and he was as beautiful as Eddie remembered– though he did miss the way his wings had framed his body. A pity angels weren't allowed to use them down here.

Just when Eddie was building his resolve to finally go inside, Steve turned and their eyes met. The angel’s smile fell, mouth twisting into a curious expression, a wrinkle forming between his brows.

He’d been prepared for a number of reactions, for Steve to be happy to see him, or angry and hating him, but he was wholly unprepared for Steve to look at him like that– as if he didn’t know him at all.

Eddie fled.

He didn’t run far, taking refuge in an alleyway across from the shop, well-versed in hiding in the shadows by now.

He watched for days, unable to leave while Steve was near, but just as unable to approach him again.

In the evenings he would follow Steve home, never knowing where the girl went. Robin, as her name tag said. One second she'd be there and the next, poof, but Steve always walked to a small apartment where he’d spend the night hours alone before leaving again early the next morning.

What was he doing?

Who was his charge?

Eddie had assumed it was Robin but the more he observed the more convinced he became that she was an angel too.

None of it made sense.

It all came to a head one night when he was lurking in his spot waiting for Steve to walk by, and found himself getting bodily thrown into a brick wall. A figure stepped into him, her small hand strong and firm around his throat, skin glowing ever-so-slightly with heavenly power.

Eddie raised his hands in the universal gesture for, I come in peace, and finally Robin let him go.

“What do you want, Demon?”

“I prefer Eddie, actually.”

She smirked, raising a single eyebrow. “Eddie the demon? What, you didn't want to come up with some fancy new name like all your buddies?”

They weren’t his buddies, not the demons she was referring too anyway, but she wasn't likely to believe that.

“Never been one for conformity, I guess.” Eddie grinned, stifling a laugh.

Understatement.

“Seriously, why are you watching him? What are you planning?”

“Nothing, just… looking in on an old friend. I swear.”

“Sure, you and Steve used to be friends. I’m supposed to believe you're not here to ruin his chance, attacking an old ally turned enemy now that he’s vulnerable?”

“What do you mean?”

She narrowed her eyes, considering him carefully.

“You actually don’t know, do you?” She backed away, looking him up and down. “You came to the door that first day, but never came inside. Why?”

“The way he looked, I… don’t think he remembered me.”

She snorted a laugh.

Which Eddie did not appreciate. “Jeez, way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

“Sorry.” She said, not sorry at all. “Look, it’s nothing personal. He doesn’t remember anything. He’s human now.”

“What?! Why?”

Robin shrugged. “He wanted more. He loved another before God and They took mercy on him, sent him here for a chance at a different life.”

“Who?” Eddie gasped, reeling.

“Who, what?”

“Who did he love enough to leave Heaven for?”

“What do you care?!” She sneered, throwing her hands up. “Y’know what? Don’t answer that, It doesn’t matter. Not even I know who it is, and I'm his best friend.”

Best friend.

Eddie deflated. Had Steve replaced him so easily?

Robin plowed ahead, either unknowing or uncaring of the pain she was inflicting. “I know your kind. You’re bad news. If you really were friends before, if you ever cared about him, you’ll leave him alone.”

Eddie tried to go back to his life, such as it was. He wandered the underworld aimlessly, plagued by thoughts of Steve.

Was it Eddie… that he loved?

Was he okay? Was he happy? Was he safe? He was so vulnerable now– to sickness, and injury. Shit, humans dropped dead from heart attacks all the time!

Eddie could deal with it before, knowing he was out there somewhere, even if they couldn’t be together. But now… now Steve would grow old and die one day, and he couldn’t take that.

The idea of living forever in a world where Steve no longer existed was intolerable.

He went to Lucifer.

It was a long shot, he knew. He’d abandoned his de facto leader long ago, but back in the war Lucifer had been fond of him and Eddie hoped against hope that their history would help his case now.

The former angel all but laughed in his face. He held no such power, not that he would ever grant Eddie’s wish if he did.

“What a waste that would be,” the Devil had said, still holding out hope that someday Eddie would break and join him.

Desperate, he returned to the coffee shop, taking up his old post, and waited for Robin to confront him.

As she stalked angrily into the alley, he hurried to explain.

“I know what you’re going to say, but hear me out. I love him, Robin, always have. That’s why I fell. I was outraged at being denied this thing that humans were given freely to take for granted.”

She pursed her lips.

“You don’t believe me.”

Robin sighed heavily. “I can’t believe I'm saying this, but I do, actually.”

“Really?”

She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

Eddie unfolded it with shaking hands, a perfect sketch of his face.

“I found this, along with several others. Apparently he’s been drawing them for weeks. Somehow, deep down, he remembers you.”

Tears poured down his face as he continued to stare at the proof of Steve’s feelings for him.

“Why did you come back here?” She asked.

“To beg you to take a request to God, plead my case… please.”

“What for?”

“To make me human too.”

“Are you sure? If They agree to it you’ll be just like him, vulnerable, with no memory of who you were.”

“I know. I’ll just have to trust that we’ll find each other again.”

Eddie woke up feeling like he’d been having the strangest dream. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, rent was due soon and he still hadn’t found a job.

He set out for the corner store to pick up a newspaper and found himself drawn to an adorable little coffee shop along the way with a help wanted sign out front. He knew the prices at a place like that were well out of his budget, but one look at the beautiful man behind the counter was enough to have him thinking– screw the budget.

Besides, it couldn’t hurt to put in an application, even if he had no experience as a barista.

The man looked up as Eddie entered the empty shop, and their eyes met. There was something familiar about him. The man paled, eyes going wide. It was a curious reaction, but Steve, as his nametag read, shook it off quickly and forced a smile.

“Good Morning, what can I get you?”

Gorgeous and the voice of an angel? Eddie was half in love already.

He ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, a drip coffee, which Steve poured with shaking hands, cursing as a little of the hot liquid sloshed over the cup’s side, burning him.

“You okay?”

Steve turned, offering his first real smile, laughing at himself as he shook his head.

Without a word he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small sketchbook, sliding it across the counter. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think I've been dreaming about you.”

Steve showed him then, page after page filled with drawings of Eddie's face.

Eddie’s stomach flipped, suddenly realizing why Steve had looked so familiar. “I think I've been dreaming about you, too.”

As always, all my love and thanks to @penny00dreadful beloved friend and beta.

Also to @hitlikehammers and @theheadlessphilosopher for listening to me talk about this and reading it through as I attempted to parse this down from 3400 words to it's current form.

Some tags of those I recall expressing interest or i think might like this? (sorry if i miss anyone or if you didn't want to be tagged!): @griefabyss69 @pearynice @eriquin @cranberrymoons @momotonescreaming @kikidoesfanfic @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @mentallyundone @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @vegasol

#STWG Hozier Project #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #robin buckley #hozier songfic #stwg

154 notes · View notes

miraculousmultifan · 10 months ago

Text

Foreigner's God

This fic was written for the @strangerthingswritersguild's Hozier Project where we each chose a song from Hozier's self-titled album and wrote a one-shot inspired by it. I chose Foreigner's God.

I also crossposted this fic on AO3 which you can read here.

Here are the tags (the fic will be under the cut):

Ship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Other Characters Mentioned Additional Tags: Presumed Dead Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Kas!Eddie, Post-Season 4, The Five Stages of Grief, Angst with a Happy Ending, Struggles With Religion, Mentions of Atheism, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Warning: I want to clarify, since I was having some struggles finding the right tag, that there is a lot of discussion about Christianity (namely Steve's relationship with Christianity and faith as well as his own grievances with other Christians and things like "how God chooses who gets a miracle"). My family is Christian, so there's a little bit of my own self-projection with Steve's internal monologue, but this is in no way meant as "Christianity Bashing"

If any of that is something you wouldn't like to read, I suggest you don't continue. This has been your warning! :)

Denial.

Kneeling over the man’s prone form, Steve refuses to believe he is truly dead. They get back to the trailer quickly, so surely there’s still a chance that he could make it. Right?

The Upside Down rattles with earthquakes, but Dustin’s tears are still louder in comparison. The man’s not dead because that would mean he left Dustin to grieve. He wouldn’t do that, so he’s not dead.

Steve dips his head down until his cheek is suspended a thread above his lips, waiting to feel a soft brush of air to prove that he’s still breathing. He wraps his fingers around his wrist like a pathetic excuse for a hand-hold as he tries to find a pulse. He stays like that for much longer than he needs to in the hopes of feeling a puff of breath, a thump of a heartbeat under his skin.

It will come. It has to. Because he isn’t dead.

Nancy and Robin pull Steve and Dustin away from his body, even as their own bodies shake with sobs. The ground trembles as another earthquake runs rampant through the Upside Down, splitting the ground and spreading cracks through the dirt.

One by one, everyone leaves the Upside Down through the gate in the ceiling of his trailer. Without–

They leave him lying there. They leave him to rot.

Not that he can rot. Because he isn’t dead.

Anger.

Steve used to be a Christian. Back before the Upside Down. Back before he was pushed headfirst into actual hell.

He wasn’t exactly devout. He definitely didn’t follow the “no sex before marriage” rule or anything. But the faith aspect? The belief of a God that created them? An all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God? He believed that. He wanted to believe there was someone with the ability to protect them. To look after them.

Then he had to fight a six-foot, slimy, petal-headed monster to protect Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler. The same monster that made Will Byers go missing. The same monster that killed Barb in his pool. Where was God then?

God doesn’t exist. There is no possible way the God that is supposed to love them unconditionally and protect them would create something hell-bent on tearing apart every living being it came across.

Some people might assume the demogorgon, the Upside Down, all of it has to be the work of Satan. Steve knows better. Satan is only supposed to tempt you to sin. His goal is damnation, not death. That’s what he wants. Not vicious, violent creatures that kill innocent people for fun.

So, after Carver comes back from everything alive, surviving the earthquakes and rifts in the ground, and tries to spew bullshit about the kind of people God loves and the kind that he sends to hell, Steve knows he’s wrong. What ever happened to “love thy neighbor?”

While he isn’t a Christian anymore, he knows that Carver is simply twisting the words of the Bible to support his own malicious agenda, venting his grief over Chrissy by directing his rage onto a scapegoat. An easy target that didn’t deserve any of it.

It’s easy for Carver to blame him and call him a Satanist when the jock had a front-row seat to Max floating in the air, her limbs snapping like twigs. For a Christian with no experience with the Upside Down, blaming it on Satan seems like an easy out that requires minimal critical thinking.

But then Carver went from vague comments about sinners to using the Bible to turn Hawkins against him. Calling him a freak, a murderer, a Satanist. They deface his missing posters with devil horns and pentagrams, unable to let his name rest. After everything, they still won’t let him rest.

And Steve is angry. His heart is heavy with the weight, the hate, of Carver’s fucked up beliefs. Why does this jackass get to live when he is dead? Why does Carver get to run his name through the mud when he’s not even around to defend himself?

Carver is so scared of imaginary monsters that he can’t see the real ones that are haunting Hawkins.

He sacrificed himself for a town that hates him. A town that, even now, couldn’t appreciate what he’d done for them. Hawkins never deserved him. Not even the federal government could be bothered to clear his name. It’s much easier for them to hide the truth and paint him as the real villain rather than reveal him as the hero he really was. They’re the cowards. Not him.

Steve hates Hawkins. Steve hates the people who ruined the life of a boy whose biggest “crime” was dressing in edgy clothes, listening to loud music, and playing a nerdy board game. Steve hates the people that made him feel like a coward for trying to protect himself. Steve hates the people who taught him that he would only be redeemable when he was dead.

He hates God for letting it happen.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to kick and bite. Thrash and punch. He wants to shout from the rooftops about how the very man they scorn is the one who saved them all.

He wants to scream the name of a god he no longer believes in. He wants to curse a god that doesn’t exist. The purest expression of his grief, echoing through town.

Bargaining.

Steve would trade the ungrateful citizens of Hawkins if it meant he could have him back.

To the people of Hawkins, he’s just missing. With the lines of open gates, destruction on every corner, overcast sky, and endless ash floating in the air, some of them believe that whatever his agenda was, he had succeeded. They don’t know shit.

They pray to their god for a miracle. For someone to stop the murders. Stop “the devil” from wreaking havoc. As if their god actually had that power. Steve and his friends hadn’t laid down their lives for everyone to shout “miracle!” If they managed to defeat Vecna, Steve didn’t want God getting all the credit for it.

Miracles are bullshit anyway. Why should a god give miracles so sparsely? Why do some people get miracles and others don’t? God shouldn’t play favorites. How does he decide who deserves a miracle?

Why hadn’t a true hero fit that criteria?

What “lesson” does God teach when he lets innocent children die without stepping in? What “lesson” does he teach his believers when he lets them invoke his name like a waiver as they hurt an innocent boy?

Sometimes Steve thinks that it should have been him instead. It was his fourth year dealing with the Upside Down; his winning streak had run its course. It was about time anyway. It should have been him.

Steve can’t fathom trading anyone else for him. It would either be the shitheads of Hawkins or Steve. Maybe the assholes in Hawkins Lab who released the Upside Down on all of them in the first place. Maybe the fucking feds that used him as a scapegoat instead of owning up to their mistake.

Depression.

Alone in his house, Steve sits on his bed in his room and stares down at the piece of clothing in his lap. He isn’t crying, but it’s a near thing.

Dustin hasn’t called in days, torn up by grief. Mike refuses to look at him, using him as an easy target to place his blame. Lucas is too busy sitting at Max’s bedside to be betrayed by Steve’s failure. Sometimes Erica comes over to sit on the couch with him and show him her dice or talk about My Little Pony, but they never talk about him.

Robin knows something is wrong, of course. They know each other so intrinsically that they don't have to speak to share their thoughts and feelings.

The thing is… Steve doesn’t want to talk about it. If he tried to open up, he’d have to find a way to pry the man’s name from his throat. Robin supports him like always, but he can tell that she’s starting to worry even more than usual.

He wants to cry. He wants to sit there and let himself cry, but he can’t. His eyes are deceptively dry, giving off the impression that he isn’t grieving even when he feels it every day.

Does he even have the right to grieve? Steve barely knew the guy! They’d only spent a week together and he had the audacity to grieve at the same level as someone like Dustin? Steve was being irrational.

Robin and Nancy could have handled Vecna, no problem. Steve never should have assumed being the distraction would be easy. That the distraction team would just hop back through the gate as soon as they played their part. Not when he knew how vicious and determined those bats could be.

The denim vest feels like it’s burning a hole through Steve’s legs. It’s selfish for him to keep it. Surely Wayne needs it more.

But the two of them had sort of become friends, hadn’t they? They had joked together. They bonded over Dustin’s overconfident attitude. They…

Well, let’s just say Steve had to go through a bit of a bi-crisis in the midst of his mourning.

If Steve could only talk to Robin about this mass of grief, guilt, and what-ifs in his chest—if he could finally say his name—maybe he could finally break down into pieces. Maybe his numb exterior could finally reflect his shattered heart.

Acceptance.

He’s dead. He’s dead, and he’s never coming back.

He was an ever-present pressure in Steve’s life for one short week before he vanished forever. And Steve can accept that.

They won’t have another opportunity to tease Dustin together. They won’t sit pressed on a couch together, their thighs brushing. He won’t lean too close into Steve’s space and bump their shoulders together. They won’t get the chance to say the things they left unsaid.

And now Steve will never know.

But he can accept that. He can because he has to. Because they held his funeral.

You don’t hold funerals for people who aren’t dead. So Steve just has to accept it. The sooner he can, the sooner he can move on.

…

Revival?

Something is in his house.

That’s the first thing Steve registers when he steps up to the front door. The wood by the handle is scratched up with claw marks, and the metal lock is on the ground, pulled out of the door and rendering Steve’s house key obsolete.

Instead of entering the threshold unprotected, Steve scrambles back to his car to grab the nail bat from his trunk. He considers getting his walkie out to ask for help but decides to scope out the situation first. Cautiously, he makes his way through the entryway leaving the door open behind him in case he needs to make a hasty escape.

He expects the house to be destroyed; valuables taken, glass shattered, and dirt smeared all over the linoleum tiles. There’s definitely mud tracked into the house, but the shape of the footprints is like nothing Steve has ever seen. From a distance, they might look like regular feet, but upon closer inspection, Steve notices that the toes seem elongated, the length of the feet bigger than any normal human’s.

Tentatively, Steve follows the footsteps with his bat tightly gripped in his fist. They lead up the stairs to Steve’s bedroom where the door is hanging slightly ajar.

Something is in Steve’s room.

It has long, leathery wings; ragged and tangled hair; sharp, pointed claws; and a thrashing, demonic tail. It moves around the room with shameless wonder, trilling to itself as it sniffs at the comforter on Steve’s bed, the clothes in his closet, and the denim vest on his desk.

The creature stops at the desk, pausing to smell the vest thoroughly, unconsciously giving Steve a view of its side profile. Strange… The monster bears a striking resemblance to–

“Eddie?” Steve breathed, his grip on his bat loosening as his eyes finally blurred with unshed tears. “Is that you?”

The monster whips around to face Steve, its lips pulled up into a snarl as its dark, human-like eyes stare sharp and steady, directly into the emptiest parts of his heart. Without a warning, the creature crowds into Steve’s space and starts sniffing him within an inch of his life. It runs its strangely human-like nose along the crook of Steve’s bared neck while its clawed hands hold Steve’s arms by his sides firmly.

Steve drops the bat, frozen in place. Now that it’s so close, Steve can see the similarities to Eddie in the monster’s face. Those same expressive Bambi eyes. The strong line of his nose. Those same plush-looking lips pulled back to reveal monstrous fangs. Even with the changes, there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that the creature before him is Eddie.

Then, when Eddie has apparently finished sniffing, he snuffles in Steve’s face, satisfied, and picks him up like he’s made of feathers. With seemingly minimal effort, he places Steve in the center of his bed and fluffs the blankets up around him, swiping his frighteningly long, black tongue up Steve’s cheek in a sopping wet lick.

Steve blushes, unsure how he should be reacting. “Eddie?” he murmurs softly once more, hoping to draw Eddie’s attention to the words leaving his lips.

Eddie chirps, climbing into the bed to join Steve and curling up at his knees. His wings flap, sending a burst of air across Steve’s face before they settle, and he faces Steve with his eyes relaxed and expression open.

With a nervous smile, still not sure what to do with his hands, Steve says, “Do you… recognize me?”

Another chirp and Eddie presses his forehead into Steve’s outstretched palms.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, letting out a brief sigh of relief. “Can you speak?”

Eddie whimpers, hanging his head low. The sound is broken, raspy as though his vocal cords are struggling to produce the deep sound. Steve feels like he’s losing him all over again.

Mustering all the tender charm he can manage, Steve slowly reaches out to loosely hold one of Eddie’s hands. Eddie picks up his head to watch him, making no move to stop the motion, the only indication of his interest being the little flick of the end of his tail back and forth.

As gently as he can, Steve rubs his thumb against the inside of Eddie’s wrist and softly presses a kiss to his palm. “I’m glad you found me,” he murmurs, hoping that Eddie will understand the sentiment. “I’m glad you’re back.”

There’s no mutual language between the two of them for Steve to express it, and he knows he would only break if he tried to verbally convey it, but his entire being feels like it’s lit up with the broken love he holds in his cracked and shattered heart. Even if he said the words out loud, Eddie wouldn’t be able to respond in kind.

Just like everyone else, leaving Steve wanting for something no one can give him.

Steve lays back in his bed to stare up at the ceiling. All his grief is no longer warranted now that Eddie’s back, but despite that, he still feels as though he’s lost something truly important.

His cheeks are still damp from the brief tears he shed at Eddie’s return, but when he goes to wipe them away, Eddie beats him to it. He raises himself up until he’s propped up on top of Steve and leans down to lick the tears away. It’s a little gross, but Steve appreciates it anyway.

With that task complete, Eddie flops down until his entire body weight is pressing down on Steve, laying on top of him like it’s a normal thing for friends to do. He nuzzles at the crook of Steve's neck and chuffs.

Steve chuckles nervously, a deep flush rising to his cheeks. “You alright there, Eds?” he manages to squeak out.

Instead of moving his head to look up at Steve, Eddie presses his face harder into Steve’s neck as a rumbling sound vibrates from the base of his throat. It sounds strangely like a purr.

Then, to Steve's immense surprise, Eddie raises his head and looks Steve straight in the eye. His eyebrows furrow in intense concentration as he opens his mouth. At first, only a low growl comes out before it slowly morphs as Eddie’s lips form around the word “…S-Steevie.”

Steve blushes a pretty pink. “Yeah. That’s me.”

Eddie snorts, though it reminds Steve more of a dragon huffing smoke from its nose than a laugh. He presses their foreheads together gently and Steve goes still beneath him. “Missed you,” Eddie grits out as though those two words took all of his effort. Then his face splits into a wide grin and he leans down to lick at the tip of Steve’s nose, reminiscent of an excitable puppy.

Heat blooms in Steve’s chest, and he struggles to hold back the warmth that wants to pour out of him from his fingertips. So, instead, he reaches his hand up to brush Eddie’s hair back from his forehead and smiles. “I missed you too,” he murmurs in response, trying to put all of his love into those four words.

Eventually, they’ll work on re-introducing Eddie to everyone else and giving him some speech therapy to help with his vocal cords, but for now, Steve is content to just lay there. He has no reason to grieve anymore. Not when he has Eddie back.

#mira writes #STWG #STWG Hozier Project #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #st fanfiction #st fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #st season 4 #stranger things season 4 #oneshot #kas!eddie

29 notes · View notes

thoroughlycollected · 10 months ago

Text

Honey, Don't Feed Me

this fic was written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Hozier Project based on Hozier’s 2014 self-titled debut album.

My song: “It Will Come Back” by Hozier. beta'ed by <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/vthx">VTHX</a>, all mistakes my own

pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | word count limit: 200 – 3000additional tags: POV Eddie Munson, Non-Human Eddie Munson, Eldritch, Creature Fic, Blue and Orange Morality, Body Horror, sorta. Eddie looks… its not explicit its fine, Predator/Prey, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Eddie has different priorities, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Rating: T | WC: 3000 | excerpt below, rest can be read on <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/53409415">ao3</a>

The Bright Below was just like the Dark Above he knew to be home, but far too loud, too busy and yet – dead. The weft was absent there. The ties that connected all things and drew them together, the force that pulled them all in, the dragging they strained against and flowed with at turns, tugged distantly at him from his faraway home. None of the strange creatures in the Bright Below seemed to feel or respond to it. The creatures moved about, chittering at each other endlessly, posturing. They were slow on their own, couldn’t match half his speed even when they seemed to be exerting maximum effort, and needed large, shining contraptions. Loud things that they could climb in and compel to move swiftly.

The whole area had been chaotic and overstimulating. He’d almost written the place off as too weird and made his way back home. He knew the Dark Above, knew the purpose of life there. There was The Center, a reaching, sprawling thing whose presence vibrated and thrummed across the weft, simultaneously obscuring all and telegraphing every living creatures’ every move to every other. He wanted, like everything else, to join The Center. To merge with it and become one with it, and to do so thunderously, overwhelmingly, obliteratingly, in hopes of taking control of it. To subsume and become master of The Center without becoming consumed himself. And then he’d seen <i>them</i>.

His prey. His target.

#STWG Hozier Project #stwg #Eddie is a monster in this like literally not at all a human lad #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #fic that i wrote myself

9 notes · View notes

shares-a-vest · 11 months ago

Text

💖 Fic Writing Review 2023 💖

I was tagged by @penny00dreadful @rocknrollsalad @cranberrymoons and @unclewaynemunson Thanks everyone! You all smashed it in 2023. Here's to more words wording and fun fandom times with our faves.

Tbh, it took me a good month minute to work out how to do this, seeing as I don't post much to ao3 (something I intend on mending in 2024). I'm very much going with the 'feel free to show whatever stats you like' aspect of the rules.

But before all that, I'd like to use this post as an opportunity to acknowledge everyone who enjoys my writing. I kinda just fell into writing in this fandom and discovered that I love it!

I'm also sending love and appreciation to my beloved moots and everyone in the stwg discord server. Here's to another year of creating, sharing and interacting 💖

This fandom really is my happy place a lot of the time, a much-needed creative outlet and a space where I can talk to people who let me be my silly little old self.

I have so much I want to write in 2024 (including some in-the-works stuff listed below). One goal I know I have in 2024 is to write what I'll temporarily title, 'The Origin of Joanie Munson'. I would really like to knuckle down and write a looonnnggg fic this year that would tell that story.

Anyway, enough of me talking, I'll stop before I get too sappy...