#icarus thinks out loud
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I've gotten into writing fanfiction to cope with my BID by giving it to my favorite characters
Pros: content about BID by someone with BID, more content about my favorite characters, channels my creativity into something productive
Cons: eueueueuueue writing hard and like no one wants to read it :((
#biid#body integrity dysphoria#bid#body integrity identity disorder#writing#icarus thinks out loud#fanfiction writer
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END GAME
PART ONE
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: this is a long one.
Part two |
[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.
She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”
“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.
Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.
She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.
Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.
Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?
He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.
He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).
His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.
“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.
He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.
Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.
Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”
#Spotify#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer#PLEASEE THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A SMUT BUT I DECIDED TO DO A BACKGROUND WRITING ON THEM FIRST FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO BLOOM#“END GAME” — LUCIFER X READER
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Best of 2024 Good Omens Fanfiction
Welcome to my list of the best Good Omens fanfiction I’ve read in 2024! These are my favorites of all the novels, short stories, and series I’ve read this year, and they’re the ones I have or am most likely to read more than once. There’s so much amazing talent in the Good Omens fandom, and I will never be able to read every great story, but I’m happy to have found these fantastic works. (FYI, I added up the word counts of all the stories on this list, and it’s over three million!)
First of all, if you haven’t read the stories on my 2023 Best Of list, be sure to check out the amazing works there. There are a lot of older classics, like Or Be Nice, Slow Show, and Pray For Us, Icarus and some stories written after season two released, like Factory Setting and Married At First Sight.
Secondly, here is the entire list of every recommendation I’ve made in 2024. There are far more great stories than can fit in a single year-end list. I’ll be unpinning that list and pinning up a new one next year.
Last year, I was able to split my list up more evenly into canon adjacent/compliant and human AU. This year, I read a wider variety of stories, many of them quite long, and more series. I’m splitting the list into three categories: canon, human AU, and non-human AU. There's no order or ranking to the list; they were mostly just added as I read them.
There are also no WIPs here; all of the stories are complete. The series are also complete at the time of this list or are a series of standalone shorts that don't need to be read in order. My preferences lean toward funnier, lighter stories and are often heavy on plot. If you’re looking for dark stories with a lot of angst, you won’t find as many here as other blogs might recommend. It’s not that some of these don’t have dark, sad moments or moments of angst, but Aziraphale and Crowley must have a happy ending, and I prefer stories that don’t make me cry or cause a lot of stress.
If you like these stories, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for the authors!
If you hit that "Keep reading" button, strap in! This is a very, very long post.
Canon
They’re still angel and demon. I’m counting Reverse Omens in this category.
The Seventh Prince of Hell (56K; Rated M) by @evilasiangenius
Reverse Omens. This is actually part of a series, but I’ve only read the first book, so I’m not listing it as a series. Aziraphale is the Seventh Prince of Hell. His animal aspect is the octopus. Crowley is an ordinary angel. Both are assigned to Earth. They have adventures!
Genesis 3:(-7)-5.5 -7 And they assembled all the Lords, the Princes of Hell into a congregation together sometime after the seventh day, but not on a day of rest because even the Dark Council has a day off. -6 When it came to pass that all grew weary of the powerful pointing presentations, Lord Beelzebub spake with a loud voice, saying unto them, One of uzz brotherzz muzzt go to Earth as Hell’s Represzentative and thwart the doings of Heaven; there izz no choice now that the Almighty has created humanzz. Who amongzt uzz shall take up the project? It comezz with a great deal of extra paperwork, much travel, and no overtime pay. And we shall not reimbursze anything and there shall be no per diem. [...] -3 And of the seven Princes of Hell, three stepped forward, and only three; not two nor five, which are the other prime numbers near three and definitely not one, which is not a prime at all but the unit. The first was the Second Prince, who is called Asmodeus and is a demon of lust. The second was the Seventh Prince, who is called Aziraphale and is a demon of collecting stuff. And the third was the Fourth Prince, who is not worth talking about because they only appear in this one scene and for no other reason than to have three characters. I think that Prince is the demon of executive dysfunction or erectile dysfunction or something like that. Maybe both.
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Nice And Ominous: a reluctant eschatology of the Second Attempt (series) (117K; Rated T/E) by @e-rated-beardo
A three-part, post-s2 series with gorgeous art by the author. Part I is Crowley’s POV as he deals with the loss of his angel. Part II is from Aziraphale’s POV as he tries to stop the Second Coming and deal with the loss of his demon. Part III is the thrilling finale (and the happy ending). Expect a lot of angst but great characters and plot.
It was a shit day. All the days had been shit, and there had been rather a shitload of them so far. Tucked away in a disused corner of a car park in a retail park in Croydon, a lanky man cracked his eyes open and scowled out the side window of his car. There were raindrops hitting the glass and clouds massing towards the eastern horizon suggested a storm was on its way. He had slept uncomfortably across the front seats for a good amount of time (it didn’t much matter what exact amount), and despite the car being a vintage and exceptionally attractive specimen, nobody had paid it much mind—and the few people who had had the idea to come over and have a look at the ostensibly abandoned vehicle had all suddenly realised how much they actually needed to go buy a sofa or something at that Ikea over there, right about now, in fact. Untangling his various limbs, the man in the car—who wasn’t exactly a man, as such, but close enough for government work—reluctantly sat up, his boot brushing against one of the empty bottles on the floor. He had neglected to sober up before going to sleep.
***
Too Hot for Heavenly Handling (2.4K; Rated E) by @hollybennett123
Crowley says yes to returning to Heaven. The two enjoy three fornication-fueled weeks before they’re hauled before the Metatron and the other archangels for a disciplinary hearing. Rating-aside, there’s not any actual sex in this story. It’s implicit; not explicit.
I’ve read this story more times than I can count (ok, it’s seven). I nearly choked the first time I read it, because I was laughing so hard. Every sentence is a gem. The timing of the jokes is impeccable. There’s not a single bad line in this entire piece.
“No angel shall pretend to be of a lower status than their actual ranking,” Aziraphale reads aloud. “What does that have to do with — ohhh,” he says, wide-eyed, remembering their ongoing little roleplay. Crowley, an angel of the lowest ranking in their little game, seeking favour from an Archangel; offering to service him in secret so he might earn a series of Heavenly promotions. It had been jolly good fun, actually. “Misuse of Heavenly furniture,” the Metatron continues. “One count. Again, the actual number is unknown. Quite frankly, no one here is willing to research it further to gather any more evidence than the minimum required to bring you before this Council.” Looking back, Aziraphale’s desk has seen quite a bit of action in recent weeks. And the chair. The walls, too, if they count.
***
Aziraphale’s Diaries (series) (11K; Rated T) by @fellshish
A series of standalone fics written as Aziraphale’s diary entries. They don’t need to be read in any order. All of them are fantastic, but I probably laughed the hardest at “Adventures of a mystery shopper in the bookshop.” Aziraphale decides Crowley must be bored after the Nomageddon and in need of work and decides to “let” him take care of his bookshop while he’s away, but then he worries the demon might sell some of his books.
29 August 2018 I’ve informed Crowley I’ll be going away for about three weeks, to perform an exciting and complicated blessing abroad. In reality, I’ve booked the Ritz for myself, where I’ll be forced to act human and eat breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Anything to keep a close eye on Crowley! 30th August 2018 It’s my first day away. I decided to go by the bookshop in an “old and confused man disguise” so I could look through the window. I was just in time (a three hour window between lunch and afternoon tea at the Ritz) to see him read the letter I’d posted a few days ago so it would arrive just as I’d left. It was cleverly addressed “To the owner or the current guardian of this bookshop”. I used all my knowledge of humans, gathered via the cleverest of ways (a lot of reading), to write it.
***
A Special Place In Hell (50K; Rated T) by @hotcrosspigeon and @mirach
When Adam shifted reality and caused Satan to disappear, the nearest supernatural entity became the new King of Hell. As it so happened, a certain angel was standing just a little closer than his demon.
Aziraphale, while not Falling, becomes the new ruler of Hell and must navigate Hellish politics, find a role for the love of his life, and maybe bring some proper tea time to the infernal realm. I stumbled upon this story purely by accident one night, and it was a pure joy to read. It’s one of those stories I wish was a series, because I could read so much more in this world.
"Hello, Crowley, my dear fellow. I would like to discuss a certain issue with you. You see, I somehow got into a very peculiar predicament..." Aziraphale sighed in frustration, pacing in his bookshop. "No no no, that sounds like I got my hand stuck in the sweets vending machine again." He cleared his throat. "Hey Crowley, what's up? Better sit down because I have some news to tell you... And by some news I mean... errr..." The angel groaned. "Oh Heavens, there's just no proper way to say this. Ugh, come on, Aziraphale, buck up! You just need to get to the point, that's all. Say the things as they are. No going in circles around the matter. Nice and accurate, right. Just tell him..." He turned at the sound of the bookshop doorbell. "Hello Crowley! Nice weather, isn't it?" "Wha..?" Crowley raised an incredulous eyebrow over the top of his sunglasses, a drop of water running along the edge of his nose. His red hair was plastered to his forehead. He turned to look out the window, jerking a thumb at the onslaught of vicious hail and rain that pelted the glass and plinked against the pane. "Oh, ha ha , very funny. It's bloody bucketing down, angel! I legged it in here before I got clonked on the head with a hailstone the size of my fist." He stopped and frowned at the angel in concern. "Er... you all right? You're looking a bit peaky."
***
Flowers From Hell (42K; Rated T) by @entanglednow
Crowley creates a hybrid demon flower that turns out to be a little more than he intended. This was such a sweet, beautiful story of found family and love, and you’ll absolutely fall in love with Ivy and want to do everything to protect him.
There's a low, quiet rustle from the atrium, where Crowley keeps his finest plants. The beautiful and often terrified rows of them are always so tall and glossy, and fantastically well maintained. Aziraphale regrets that he hadn't taken more of an interest in Crowley's hobbies. It wouldn't have been too difficult, he imagines, to seek out rare specimens to offer the demon. When he's been given so many long sought after volumes, and unpublished manuscripts in turn. Perhaps he could encourage Crowley to open up more, with a few well thought out questions pertaining to his plants, and their various needs. He knows Crowley has been absorbed in a special project recently, he'll make a point to ask about it today. Aziraphale heads into the stretch of greenery, following the tap of feet on tiles, and the quiet swish of foliage. He catches a flash of red hair at the end of the room, behind a messy spray of deep green leaves, then another flash, of what might be the long, pale curve of a shoulder. "Crowley?" The whole room smells damp, thick with fresh soil and crushed plant matter, and it grows stronger the deeper in Aziraphale ventures. He's sure the room wasn't quite so large before, it's clearly been expanded since he visited last, a deep bed of soil is now packed at the back of the room. "Crowley." Aziraphale eases a large spray of damp leaves aside. "I hope I'm not too early, I was -" Crowley is standing by the far wall, carefully touching the valley in the middle of a large leaf with curious, repetitive motions. He's also quite naked. It's - it's unexpected to say the least.
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Time Marches Forward (129K; Rated M) by @bellisima-writes
While Aziraphale is in Heaven trying to thwart the Second Coming, Crowley is trying to help a frightened 15-year-old Adam learn to deal with his powers. I consider this the definitive S3 (even having written a post-S2 myself), regardless of what the upcoming finale gives us. Every character is wonderfully fleshed out. The plot is intriguing. I read it as fast as humanly possible, barely stopping to do anything else.
Crowley felt the air in the Bentley shift slightly. “What are you doing here?” Crowley jumped in shock, hitting his head on the roof of the Bentley so hard his sunglasses fell off. Adam was suddenly in the passenger seat, studying him cautiously. “Hey! You can’t just come into my car, uninvited,” Crowley hissed, grabbing his glasses and placing them back on his face. He realized he was still slouching, making Adam appear much bigger than he was. He sat up straight and crossed his arms in an attempt to look more intimidating and less drunk. He wondered if it was wise to try and glower at the Antichrist. “He can, actually,” Pepper said from the back seat. Crowley turned and snarled as he noted the three other teenagers in his car. Wensleydale and Brian sat beside her. “He can do anything.” “Yeah well, that may be so but that doesn’t make it right. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should,” he looked Adam directly in the eyes as he said this, assuming no one else around him would ever be so blunt. “What are you doing lurking around my house?” Adam asked again plainly. Crowley’s glowering was not working. “Ngk. I didn’t come to see you, if that’s what you're asking. I’m as shocked as you are to find myself here. I was asleep for a few days. The bloody car did it; blame it for the lurking”
***
The Last Angel (162K; Rated E) by @bellisima-writes
Crowley's been Hell's Grand Inquisitor for millennia now. Ever since the Apocalypse, he's managed to carve out a relatively cushy life for himself. Hell won the War, Angels were essentially eradicated and all human souls were Satan's. Everything was fine. Until one day he hears a rumor that the Last Angel in the universe was finally captured. Until Beelzebub is suddenly ordering him to get information from said Angel, information that's critical for Hell's survival. Until the moment he first locks eyes with the last Angel, and everything he's ever known starts to crumble around him.
I can’t come up with a better description than the summary. Much like the author’s previous work, Time Marches Forward, this is plot-heavy, exciting, action-packed, and gorgeous. The characters are detailed and realistic. The plot sings. And you won’t see the surprise until it’s already there.
“What kinds of rumors?” he asked, shifting in his seat to properly face Eric. Words were one thing, but body language was another. As Grand Inquisitor, Crowley learned early on to weigh both when evaluating information shared by a source whose reliability was questionable. Eric was a nice kid, sure. But their reliability would definitely be categorized as questionable . Eric’s mood shifted as they glanced around the corridor. Crowley hadn’t realized how quiet the cells had gotten. The bloody humans were eavesdropping again. He dug deep and pulled up a hiss so loud and laced with demonic power that it rattled every cell door in the entire block. Eric motioned with their hand for Crowley to follow them into a corner and out of earshot of everyone else. As Crowley pulled himself up and started walking he sent searing looks down each row of cells around him. They were all going to have a talk about this later. “What?” he asked when he got close enough to Eric. Still eyeing the cells behind them, Eric leaned in closer and whispered, “Hastur finally found him."
Crowley shook his head. Eric’s shiftiness was starting to annoy him. “Found who?” “The one who killed Ligur. Crowley, Hastur’s finally captured the last Angel.”
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Kidnapping A Supreme Archangel For Fun And Profit (series) (31K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken
Mostly outsider POV. Four short stories told mostly from the points of view of Agiel, the Supreme Archangel’s assistant, and Kric (Eric with a K), the Grand Duke’s assistant as they try to figure out why the Supreme Archangel is so unworried about all the times he’s getting himself kidnapped by the Grand Duke. In the meantime, the two assistants find that maybe they have more in common than they would have expected, being hereditary enemies and all.
Being Lord Beelzebub's demonic assistant had been easier than overseeing the third circle of Hell. Just stay out of the way, don't make eye contact, not that Kric could, having been blessed with a distinct lack of eyes, and do not talk to the Prince of Hell, unless it was a 'Yes, Your Highness' or... No, that was pretty much it. You did not go around saying "No" to Lord Beelzebub. And of course, just as they had finally grown comfortable in their position, had even found the perfect time to ask for an assistant of their own... There had been a change in leadership. And Kric had found themself serving Crowley. The Original Tempter, the Snake of Eden, the Earth Walker. Kric was not impressed. Flash bastard. And suddenly, they were expected to be in the throne room at all times. To answer when addressed. Proper, actual answer. None of that automatic 'Yes, your Highness' they were so used to. The first time His Rottenness had held up two sashes, before the monthly meeting between Heaven and Hell and had asked which one made his scales look more iridescent and Kric had answered in the only way they knew how... Well, let's just say that hadn't gone well. They had been sent to something called Fashion Week. To better their understanding of clothes and colour theory, something they could sense had been invented by a fellow demon. Lord Crowley, most probably, judging by the way His Wickedness had grinned when he had told them that.
*****
Human AU
Fully human characters. No supernatural/magical elements.
Waking Up Slow (88K; Rated E) by @themoonmothwrites
After both being exposed to covid, strangers Crowley and Aziraphale wait out their isolation together (there’s only one bed!) at a cottage by the sea. This is complete cosycore fluff with just a touch of angst (and a happy ending) near the end. This gorgeous story has stuck with me for so long. If you want something that’s just plain pleasurable to read, this is it.
“Lovely view.” The voice was low, with the slightest hint of gravel, and right next to Aziraphale’s ear. He made an undignified noise and spun round in fright. “Where the devil did you-?” he started, high-voiced, before his foot caught on a stone and he lost his balance. The stranger was standing so close that Aziraphale toppled right into him, and the pair of them went down together in a tangle of knees and a solid thunk to the forehead. “Ow,” the man said, squinting up at Aziraphale, gaze unfocused, before his eyes fell closed. “Oh no!” Aziraphale breathed. “Oh dear. What do I-?” He’d left his blasted phone at the cottage, now of all times when he actually needed it! With an unconscious man lying before him! And it was all Aziraphale’s doing! “I can-- I can-- I know what to do!” he told himself, attempting belatedly not to panic. The best thing to do was not to think too hard. Tipping up the stranger’s chin, Aziraphale pinched his nose and lowered his face until his mouth closed over the other man’s.
***
The Prince’s Consort (142K; Rated E) by @ineffable-toreshi
Aziraphale is the crown prince of a fictional nation. Crowley is a Lily, trained in one of Lucien’s brothels and kept a virgin for the eventual sale to a wealthy master. Against the brothel owner’s wishes, Crowley is purchased by the prince’s adviser, Gabriel, as a companion for Prince Aziraphale. Aziraphale didn’t want a purchased mate, however, and decides to court his new consort the old-fashioned way.
The description makes this sound like a darker story than it is; it’s actually a really sweet story with only one bad guy (and it’s not Gabriel).
I wrote a much longer review here if you’d like more details.
“I...I was just wondering, my Lord,” Anthony said, nervously nibbling on his lip and twisting his fingers in his lap. “Why did you choose me ?” Gabriel cocked his head to the side. He leaned back, reclining with his arms thrown up over the edges of the bench, and seemed to think about the question. By the time he finally opened his mouth to answer, Anthony was practically vibrating with curiosity. “There were a few factors,” he explained thoughtfully. “I’ll admit that your appearance was the first and foremost. I prefer women, myself, but I know beauty in a man when I see it. And I’ve seen the types who’ve caught the prince’s eye over the years. I’m quite confident that he will find you more than pleasing, from an aesthetic standpoint.”
***
Keep Digging (7K; Rated T) by Appleseeds
After panicking and losing his nerve trying to ask out Aziraphale, the co-worker Crowley has an enormous crush on, he tells a little white lie that ends up completely spiralling out of control since he can't seem to stop digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. Now he's obtained plans to help him break into a school, inadvertently funded the purchase of explosives, and, knowing his luck, the fake blood will end up permanently staining the tiles. Who knows though, maybe in the end, it'll all turn out to be worth it.
Another one of those stories that are so funny tears stream down my face every time. Even going back through it to find an excerpt had me choking down laughter.
“I actually used to be a music tutor. That was one of the little jokes I liked to tell.” Aziraphale giggled again. Nhhhhh. “Wish you could tutor me…” Crowley muttered under his breath. “Oh! Are you wanting to learn to play a musical instrument?” Aziraphale asked brightly. Crowley’s eyes widened. He wasn’t supposed to hear that. Of course, he wouldn’t have heard it if Crowley had just kept his big mouth shut. “Um. Yeah.” “Wonderful! Which one?” FUCK. How the hell was Crowley supposed to answer that? Whatever he said, he might end up having to get one of said instrument, and he didn’t know much, but he knew musical instruments could be incredibly expensive. There must be something that would be cheap enough to procure if needs be, right? And with that thought, Crowley responded. “The triangle.” Oh Jesus Christ.
***
Temple of the Muses (241K; Rated E) by @ajconstantine
It’s the start of the Season in 1841 Victorian England. Mr Anthony Crowley has left a life of working at a luxurious high end bordello in Paris behind him and is now a courtesan intent on climbing the social ladder in London to increase his status and social connections. After unexpectedly inheriting the title of the Earl of Eastgate, Aziraphale finds himself trying to navigate the complicated world of the aristocracy. Duke Gabriel purchases a month-long contract with Mr Crowley for Lord Fell as a surprise gift to Aziraphale’s astonishment and dismay. He declines to take full advantage of Crowley’s charms but agrees to an arrangement of pretending to be Crowley’s paramour in exchange for lessons on the etiquette and expectations of Society. It’s a practical arrangement, nothing more. Certainly no feelings will be involved...
One of the best, most well-researched stories I’ve read. The historical elements are fascinating, and the world-building is top notch. Set in an alternate 1841 where there’s no stigma on same sex relationships, but same sex marriage is still not allowed. The story alternates between the present time, with Aziraphale and Crowley navigating their growing relationship, and Crowley’s time being trained at one of the most elite bordellos of Paris.
Crowley has a lot of autonomy in this story. He actively chose to become a sex worker. Once he leaves the bordello and becomes a courtesan, he can refuse to sign with a client. And while there are consequences for breaking a contract, a courtesan can walk away from a troublesome client.
“Exactly what position do you think I was hired for?” Crowley interrupted, pulling the shoulder of his robe back up. The Earl looked at him as if he’d asked a ridiculous question. “Valet, of course.” Crowley barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Duke Haven didn’t tell you about me?” The Earl pursed his lips, tilting his head in puzzlement. “Not you precisely. I was at his house last week, and he chastised me when I mentioned that I didn’t have a valet, insisting I needed one even though…” His eyes widened. “Oh no. What… what did you think you were being hired for?” Struck by the absurdity of it all, Crowley fought the strong urge to laugh outright. Instead, he gave the Earl a roguish grin and bowed with a flourish. “Mr Anthony Crowley, at your service, sir. Duke Haven procured a contract for me to be your... courtesan.” Lord Fell's mouth dropped open as he gaped at him in apparent shock. “You— I—” He floundered, at a loss for words as he looked away from Crowley. His eyes landed on the bed. To Crowley’s growing amusement, the Early actually blushed, red staining his cheeks as he swiftly averted his gaze.
***
#RAINBOWROAD (series) (407K; Rated T/E) by @nieded
If you haven’t heard of this one yet, you’re one of today’s lucky 10,000. This is one of the best, most well-written human AUs that anyone has produced for Good Omens (or really, of any romance). It’s a three-book, three-short series set in the world of Formula 1 racing. You heard that right. You don’t need to know anything about F1 racing. You don’t even need to like F1 racing. You just need to want to read one of the best romances ever written to enjoy this series.
Ezira Phale is a rookie F1 driver. AJ Crowley is an F1 veteran and an idol of the 25-year-old racer. Everything changes when Ezira meets and falls in love with Crowley, and the older driver (by about 10 years; there’s not a massive age difference here) seems to return his feelings. I wrote a very long review of the series here, so I won’t go into a ton of detail again except to say, if you love human AU, this should be on your list. The author adds notes at the end of the chapters explaining some of the more technical aspects of the sport, or talking about some of the real racers, and it’s fascinating.
Ezira makes his escape from the after-party after stealing a handful of fig tartlets from the hors d’oeuvres table. He ducks out the service exit before looping back to the front of the hotel. God, he wants to sleep off his tipsiness. It’s significantly cooler at night, and he wraps his arms around his shoulders before slipping inside, making a dash for the elevator. Punching his floor number, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, waiting to be taken to his floor. Then the elevator jerks as someone jabs their hand between the sliding doors, forcing it back open. Ezira lifts his head and glares at the newcomer before his eyes widen, flushing when he recognizes the red hair and black Renault polo. AJ Crowley throws himself into the opposite corner of the elevator and pulls the brim of his hat down. He turns to look at Ezira from under his cap. "Tough luck out there today, huh?" he asks. Ezira frowns and blinks. And because he’s a little drunk and high on adrenaline, he says, "Didn’t you place seventh? I thought that was fucking brilliant." This earns him a snort, and then a bit of stifled laughter. "You can’t say fuck." "You say fuck in almost every interview you do." Not that Ezira has watched every single post-debrief involving AJ Crowley. This makes Crowley laugh harder, and he wipes at his eyes. "You just look like you should be in a painting or something. You’re like a Hummel." Flabbergasted, Ezira stares. His cheeks grow hot when he realizes AJ Crowley is taking the piss. "I don’t even know what that means." Crowley wipes his eye with the back of his hand and then presses his lips together in a feeble attempt to hold back another fit of laughter. "I’m sorry. I’m just very, very drunk, and was not expecting you to say ‘fuck.’ You look like those cherubs from Italy."
***
Lunacy (57K; Rated E) by @snae-b
@snae-b writes some of the best sci-fi GO stories you’ll ever read. This is hardly the only great story of theirs I’ve recommended; it just happens to be my personal favorite. Crowley is the crew chief of a mining operation on one of Pluto’s tiny moons. Aziraphale is a geologist there to study the structural integrity of the moon. But something seems to be alive, something that shouldn’t be there. This is pure psychological horror, the kind of story where you’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s a hallucination. You’ll find definitely NSFW artwork throughout, so take note not to read it around people you wouldn’t want seeing porn on your screen.
Crowley zones out as they continue their conversation. Things had been weird in the mine today. For the past month really. Tech malfunctioning. Batteries draining when they should have been able to hold a charge for days. Half the lights were on the fritz. As if it weren't dark enough in there already. He'd had to trek nearly a mile into Sheol with only the lights on his helmet to repair them. And his crew had their hands full with extraction, so he’d had to do it alone. The darkness really starts to play tricks on you in there. He spent as much time looking over his shoulder as he did working on the lights. Kept thinking that he was seeing something. Something hiding in the shadows. Something that lived in his peripheral vision. As he tugs a beanie on over his head there’s a light rapping on the wall and everyone glances up to the figure in the doorway. “Excuse me, Mr. Crowley. If you have time in your schedule, I really need to discuss the most recent surface scans with you. Could you come by my quarters before dinner?” Crowley sighs as he snaps on his mag boots. “Yeah. Sure thing doc. I’ll be by in thirty.” The scientist only nods before he disappears down the hall. Dr. Aziraphale Fell. He doesn’t wear the standard issue jumpsuits. He wears thick sweaters and wool trousers that look ridiculous with his mag boots. And when he isn’t wearing them, he can hardly get around. Bumps into everything and everyone. He’s never been off planet before and it shows.
***
Miracles on Ice (131K; Rated E) by @henriettarhippo
It’s the “Blades of Glory” AU you never knew you wanted. Crowley and Aziraphale are men’s figure skaters who get banned from the sport after a fight on the podium. Years later, Aziraphale’s coach, Gabriel, suggests the two of them team up to compete in the Olympic’s pairs event. Only problem is, the two skaters hate each other.
This is very much an enemies-to-lovers story, and Gabriel as their coach and sponsor is the perfect combination of asshole and good guy. He genuinely does care for his two skaters, and he’s generous with his money, but he also has that rich guy attitude of being used to getting what he wants, and he’s not afraid to tell them to stop being dumbasses either.
“Hey angel, was that your routine? Because it looked to me like a lot of swanning about on the ice with a few pirouettes thrown in.” The mocking drawl came from the figure making his way towards Aziraphale on a pair of sharp blades. Clad in skintight black velvet trousers and a black turtleneck adorned with glittering red crystals—to match the striking red curls that stopped at his shoulders—Aziraphale’s skating rival Crowley beamed down at him with a malicious grin. “Also, you’re a bit late. They handed out the women’s medals earlier today.” He pulled down the dark shades he always wore to give Aziraphale a wink. Aziraphale bristled and sat up straighter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That was textbook precision, and I think you’ll find it was the same scores I beat you with last year in Oslo.” “The hotel had a free bar I don’t even remember Oslo,” Crowley said dismissively as he approached the entrance to the rink. He turned back and gave Aziraphale a grin. “But I do remember Boston, and that victory was almost as sweet as the look on your face when you botched that triple loop.” Crowley let out a laugh at the scandalised look Aziraphale gave him. The loudspeakers started up with the first booming notes of a rock song and Crowley hopped up onto the ice and skated away from him before Aziraphale had the chance to reply.
***
Friends Don't (33K; Rated E) by @missunderstoodlyrics
Human AU. Another fantastic enemies-to-lovers by MissUnderstoodLyrics. This is the newest story on this list.
Aziraphale and Crowley are rival advice columnists whose companies are merged. The CEO, Gabriel, tells them they now have to do a joint video podcast together. The snark and bickerflirting are top notch, and this story kept a smile on my face. They have to keep their romance a secret, because the whole schtick of their podcast is their very public rivalry, but it gets harder and harder the closer they become.
Aziraphale attempted to drown his mirth in his wine glass, which was precisely when Crowley decided to position his mouth millimetres from the angel’s ear. “Blair. Have you met him? Worst. Comb-over. Since. Thatcher,” he whispered and then found himself helpfully patting Aziraphale's back as the man choked and spluttered, his cherubic face turning a delightful shade of pink. “Absolute fiend,” Aziraphale managed once he’d caught his breath, but the corners of his mouth were twitching traitorously. Crowley clocked Michaela out of the corner of his eye; she was leaning forward to shush them. Aziraphale escaped her wrath by standing and marching to the stage, his back straight and shoulders squared. He planted himself solidly in front of the microphone and proceeded to destroy what was left of Crowley’s sanity. “I once met a man-shaped snake,” he stated, his gaze firmly locked on Crowley. “Whose snark was taxing to take With swagger and pose He turned up his nose But his wisdom was rather half-baked.”
*****
Non-Human AU
One or both of them are non-human, or have some sort of supernatural abilities (like magic) but aren’t angel or demon. I’m including omegaverse in this category.
Mark of the Serpent (150K; Rated E) by @naromoreau and @summerofspock
Prince Aziraphale is about to be crowned King of Angelhaven when he's taken captive by pirates. When he's sold as a pleasure slave to King Crowley, ruler of the nation readying for war with his, he is forced to keep his identity a secret as he tries to find a way home and keep peace. But not everything at King Crowley's court is as it seems and Aziraphale will have to face machinations of a Royal Court that are far more complex than he had thought. A Captive Prince AU with an omegaverse twist.
The first omegaverse story I genuinely liked, even though Crowley is pretty awful toward Aziraphale at first. Since then I’ve come to enjoy more of them, but this is the one that got me into the genre. This is another one I’ve written a much longer review about here including an explanation for the “extremely dubious consent” tag.
"What about this one?" the omega king asked, eyes fixed on his face, a strange curl to his mouth. "He's an Angel," Hastur sneered. "Pretty, isn't he? We were trying to pick a variety for your majesty to choose from since you didn’t deign to accompany us, but we didn’t find out his origin until after we brought him. He probably doesn't even speak the language." The words manifested in Aziraphale’s mind, and he immediately saw the genius in them. If he didn't speak the language, he could hardly be appealing as a consort to the king. He would be dismissed, sent back to Tracy's, and given time to heal before making his escape. "An Angel?" the king repeated, something passing over his face that Aziraphale didn't like. "What's your name?" "I’m sorry," Aziraphale stammered in Angelic, sticking to his hastily made plan. "I don’t...I don’t know what you're saying." King Crowley smiled and said, in perfect Angelic, "I asked what your name was." "Oh, um, I- you can call me whatever you wish," Aziraphale said, not wanting to risk even a part of his name. The king laughed. "I'm choosing the Angel. Send him to my quarters." "But your majesty-" The omega king turned on Ligur. "You wanted me to choose a pleasure beta and I did. It's done. Were there any other highly important council matters or can I get back to my day?"
***
Saltwater on Skin (186K; Rated E) by @candyqueenblog
Another one with a longer review here. Ezra Fell is an award-winning novelist celebrating the millionth sale of his newest books with his friends and baby brother, Gabriel, on a rented yacht. He falls overboard and washes ashore on an uncharted island, and while awaiting rescue, he gets the strange feeling he’s not alone.
This is a low angst love story between the human and the naga who rescues him, and you’ll fall in love with the island and Crowley’s four sisters. Gabriel is a peach here, much younger than Ezra and very much the caring baby brother.
And if you’d prefer an Ineffable Wives version of the story, you can find that here. I haven’t read it, but I assume it’s equally good.
Ezra couldn’t stifle the flood of tears as he threw his arms over his head with a scream. Then a pair of rough, but blessedly human hands, covered his wrists. “You… scared?” The stranger’s voice was gravelly, most likely from disuse, but to Ezra it sounded more beautiful than all the angelic choirs. He sobbed in relief. “Oh thank heavens! I thought for sure I was going to-” His words sputtered and died when he opened his eyes to look at his rescuer. It was a man… ...from the waist up. The man’s bare torso was thin, but well defined with long arms lean with muscle. His face was all angles framed by a shock of red hair that curled down his back. His eyes were captivating. They were human enough, save for the iris being the color of spun gold and sliced right down the middle by a slit-shaped pupil. That was about where the human similarities ended. From the waist down the man’s skin melded into a massive snake tail that was wider than Ezra’s entire body and covered in black scales with a red underbelly that matched his hair.
***
FAETED (series) (251K; Rated G/T) by @ineffably-good
The only story in this category that’s not rated E. A three-book, one-short series where Ezra, an English teacher at a public school accidentally ends up in the Fae realms and in the hands of the Unseelie king, Crowley. The world-building is fantastic, and the books use some of the side characters so well, especially Hastur and Ligur, two of Crowley’s most trusted advisers. Crowley is good to Ezra, but he’s spent a thousand years ruling over the chaotic and dangerous unseelie fae, and he doesn’t always know how to handle being in love with a human. And Ezra doesn’t understand the difficult and often prickly politics of the fae, so the two have a lot of misunderstandings to work through. It leads to several fights, but they are usually resolved within the chapter.
The stories are heavy on plot, mostly around the world of the fae, which is one of the things I love most about this series. I could easily read dozens of books set in this world.
Lord Crowley watched as Ezra emerged from the coach, curious to see how this strange mortal would react to his first sight of the Dark Court. Would he blanch in terror? Would he be curious? He didn’t know or understand the creature across from him, but he knew one thing— his reactions, to date, were not what the Prince expected. This was oddly refreshing. It had been so, so long since anyone had managed to surprise him. He watched as Ezra emerged, his fluffy golden hair sticking out in all directions above the dark gray travel cloak he’d donned. He smiled faintly and with studious politeness at the horrifying gremlin who helped him down the steps, brushed the nonexistent dust off himself, and took in his surroundings. Crowley was gratified to see his eyes widen as he looked around. They were standing in the center of an immense cavern, almost as if a mountain had been hollowed out inside by an immense blast. The rock walls climbed up above them and came together at an unmeasurable distance overhead and were dotted everywhere one looked with cavernous openings, some of which flickered with the light from a fire further inside. Creatures here and there, too murky to make out fully, hovered near the openings of some of them, peering down at the return of their Prince with eyes he could not read. Further ahead, the floor cracked into a massive chasm which ranged across the rest of the cavern and was crossed here and there by rickety-looking bridges. It was lit from below by the light of flames and the scent of sulfur. Stalagmites rose from the floor at irregular intervals, some of them paired with stalactites dropping from the ceiling like large, rocky icicles. Their surfaces glittered here and there with what looked like mica or gems. Crowley watched as Ezra took all of this in at a glance. “Thoughts?” said Lord Crowley, sidling up to him. Ezra turned astonished eyes the color of blue sky to him. “It’s beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like this.” Crowley searched his face for mockery or insincerity but found only earnestness. The Prince felt a tingle of pleasure at this, at least for a moment, until he ruthlessly slammed that feeling down inside himself and returned to his usual sardonic detachment. He hadn’t brought the human here to be his friend.
***
If He’s Your Cleric, Why Is He Putting Me In His Bag of Holding? (300K; Rated E) by @noodlefrog-omens
I read this twice in a row. Literally. I stopped it and almost immediately started it again. I played D&D 3.5 for many years, and I absolutely loved seeing a D&D adventure played out in the GO universe. Aziraphale is the cleric of an adventuring party that stupidly decides to abandon him in the dungeon (you don’t abandon your healer!). Crowley is a very hungry mimic who ends up nearly dying in Aziraphale’s bag of holding before the cleric rescues him. (Look, if you’re going to look like a fancy book, don’t be surprised when the man tries to steal you).
Aziraphale still needs to find his adventuring party again, and the mimic decides to travel along with him. Along the way they find kobolds, a doppelganger, traps, and the obligate dungeon maze, all the while getting to know each other. Aziraphale recognizes his feelings toward the mimic fairly early on, but it takes Crowley longer to even understand what his feelings even mean.
The porn doesn’t start until chapter 33 (of 40), and only covers maybe three of the remaining eight chapters. You can read the entire adventure and stop once they leave the dungeon if you don’t want any monsterfuckery, or you could skim past the smut to the ending. I don’t know if the author has any plans for sequels, but if he does, I’ll be right there ready.
In that moment, Crowley knew that he had found the right bait to lure this human right to his doom. He waited as patiently as he could while nearly vibrating himself into a puddle, watching as Aziraphale puttered around the room cooing over all the books and scrolls in the room as though they were living creatures. “Just you wait,” Crowley thought to himself, inordinately pleased to have figured out what made this stubborn human tick. “One of them will be.” “There must be centuries’ worth of knowledge collected in just this one chamber,” Aziraphale said in a reverent whisper. Finally, finally he started touching things in this dungeon. He even took his heavy leather gloves off, tucking them into his belt before running a fingertip along the spines of the books chained to the shelves. Crowley watched him take one right off the shelf and thumb through a few of the pages. “We must have walked right by this room. I don’t know why Sandalphon told me there wasn’t anything behind this door. He must not have looked closely enough.” Aziraphale turned his back to the shelves to glance back at the door, and Crowley took his chance to crawl up the side of the bookshelf and arrange himself in front of the chained tomes in pride of place. It wasn’t difficult to change himself into the shape of a book, but this was always about the details. It was an art form. Which books, exactly, had Aziraphale been drawn to? Old ones with leather covers, mostly. Ones with bits of fiddly decoration on the spine. Ones with a bit of mystery. Aziraphale was a cleric, so he was probably interested in talking to the Gods and shite like that, or at least understanding them. That was an angle Crowley could work with. He gave his skin a supple leather texture, inky black and vaguely shimmery in a way he knew would catch the flickering light being thrown out by that sword. Gold edging and lettering crept across his cover and spine, promising divine secrets and cosmic mysteries to anyone who would just reach out and touch. He couldn’t see himself, but Crowley knew that he was a very sexy book right now. Aziraphale would have to be mad not to notice him.
***
Crowley And The Chocolate Factory (55K; Rated E) by @entanglednow
Crowley has to step up for his nephew Adam when he wins a ticket to tour the famous chocolate factories, run by the reclusive and deeply strange Zira Zonka. It doesn't take Crowley long to decide that he wants nothing to do with the man, who's clearly hiding dark and mysterious secrets.
Do you like your Crowley grumpy and cynical? Do you like your Aziraphale weird? Did you think the one thing missing from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory was sex between Wonka and one of the parents in a vintage Bentley? Then this is the story for you!
Crowley doesn’t know what to make of the definitely strange Zira Zonka, but he finds himself drawn to the man nonetheless. The story is set in modern times, but if you know the original (at least the movie version; I can’t speak for the books), you have a general idea of what’s going to happen to the children.
Zonka releases the arms of his partners for long enough to jerk his cane towards the sky, which erupts in a shower of flower petals and candy - a large proportion of which fall on the immediately excited crowd. Crowley's fairly certain he gets hit on the head by a soft fudge. God, this is humiliating. Zonka dances right and then left while the audience cheers in appreciation. He does another circle, separates from the row to do some unimpressive spins while trying - and failing - to find a good rhyme for liquorice. "My candy emporium has so much in store. Just step right up and walk through the door!" Zonka's gold and white cane snaps up into the air again, this time leaving a burst of light and his name written across the sky in sparkling gold calligraphy. It seems to be a dramatic ending, Crowley certainly hopes it's a dramatic ending. "Half of those lines were a stretch," he complains, but quietly and mostly to himself, because the audience seems to have found the whole thing captivating, Adam included. "And there's only five kids, not six, he can't even count." The Erik's all unlink arms, to thunderous applause from the crowd behind him, and Zonka gives the widest grin Crowley has ever seen. His hands flung on his hips, like the world's most enthusiastic children's entertainer. Crowley half expects him to ask who wants to see a magic trick. "How has this man possibly managed to stay out of the limelight for twenty years?" he wonders. "Or twenty minutes."
***
Villainous (217K; Rated E) by @ineffablepenguin
Once Upon A Time… There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely. The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends. Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…
This is one of those stories a lot of people recommend for good reason. It’s a fantastic fairy tale full of love and romance between two people who seem destined for one another. The writing is gorgeous, the world-building is fantastic, and there’s really great artwork scattered throughout. Some of the artwork is fairly suggestive, and all of it is stunning.
Crow slowed to a stop, and his gaze flickered bemusedly over him. The man was…not tall. Or remotely intimidating. He stood a couple inches shorter than him, even with the thick boots. Wide eyes shone resolutely grey-blue, the precise shade of his doublet, under a tumble of feathery white-blond curls cut a bit too short to be fashionable. And... his stubbornly-set jaw was rather less chiseled than Crow was used to seeing. No conveniently placed scars, no gritty dents or smudges on that immaculate armour. Heroes usually had cheekbones that could cut glass, but this one’s were rounded, and slightly rosy to boot. Cherubic was the word that came immediately to mind, and Crow nearly snorted out loud. He looked to be roughly Crow's own age, and was staring determinedly, if anxiously at him from behind that enormous broadsword. There was a long, tense silence as Crow and the armoured man sized each other up. The Hero spoke first. “Now see here, villain, I don’t want to have to kill you, so just turn about and head right back where you came from.” His voice was precise and educated, nearly fussy, and while self-assured was lacking in the usual bravado. Crow blinked, taken aback, and the flames in his hand faltered. “You don’t want to kill me?” “Well…no, not particularly.” The confidence wavered for an instant, then solidified. “Which is not to say that I won’t! Rest assured I will if you cause trouble!”
***
The Crawly Chronicles (series) (179K; Rated T/M/E) by @theladydrgn and @sylwritesstuff
When Aziraphale Fell, reporter for The Daily Messenger, is tasked with a simple story on smuggling, he isn't expecting to find out that Lightbringer, Inc. has been experimenting on something that could be an animal, an oil slick, or something else entirely. He especially isn't expecting that being to come home with him and change his entire life.
I’m a fan of the Tom Hardy Venom movies, which made this two-book, two-short series perfect for me. The books follow the plot of the first two movies, though book 2 also starts with the sexual relationship between the two characters.
My favorite parts of the story are of the two learning to live together while sharing a body, and Aziraphale trying to figure out how to handle having feelings for a creature he’s permanently attached to who is so completely alien (literally) that he’s not even sure that romantic and sexual love are even an option.
The food the human was making already smelled good enough to eat to them, and they did not want to wait twenty minutes. This time their control of the human's hand was less subtle as they dipped fingers into the leftover batter and brought a generous scoop of the chocolate mix to their mouth. “Nasty human's is what they were.” Aziraphale froze or at least tried to. His mouth seemed to have other ideas, cleaning the mixture from his fingers. “What- Who said that?” he demanded messily, looking around. “I did.” Aziraphale took several steps back, grasping for the cane he'd left leaning against the counter. The voice sounded as if it were everywhere around him or- or in his own mind somehow. “That's hardly reassuring. Who are you? How did you get into my home?” “Got in the same way you did, human.” They grabbed the bowl of chocolate mixture before the human stumbled too far from it, fingers scraping the last dregs of it to not waste a single bit. The cane fell to the floor. Aziraphale tried stopping himself, but he couldn't seem to make his hands do what he wanted them to do. “Stop! How-” What in the world was happening and how did he stop it? “No. I'm hungry.” “That doesn't make any sense! Stop!” he demanded, struggling to keep his chocolate covered fingers away from his own mouth. “Fine.” They still felt so weak that fighting this human for control was a struggle and a challenge that they did not want to have. It was just so much easier to slip out between their cells and wrap a long tongue around their fingers instead.
***
And finally, if you made it all the way to the end, thank you!
I have three Good Omens novels of my own I hope you’ll check out, a post-S2 with an upcoming sequel; a “they never met”/fake marriage adventure; and a reverse omens (a WIP as of 27 Dec, 2024; chapters are released on Fridays, and it should be completely posted around mid-February 2025).
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Can you write something where the Lin Kuei brothers grab their girlfriend's face and say "eyes on me"? 🫠😍
Focus Here - Lin Kuei siblings x fem!reader (scenario fic)
in which each brother in the Lin Kuei experience jealousy for you
a/n: yummy idea, delectable even- a dollop of whip cream to make it better
ship[s]: bi han, tomas, kuai liang x fem!reader
warning(s): brief milanya (taleena?) mention, brief johnshi mention, anti-betrayal
(bi han really sliding no less than six feet to that wall- my extra king)
=====================
Bi Han
Bi Han sat beside you outside of the indoor pool in Johnny's mansion. Bi Han was invited by Johnny, along with his brothers and all of the other friends he had made on his cross-dimension journey, to his newly bought mansion to celebrate the smashing success of his movie, Mortal Kombat 1.
Figures present were OIA members Kenshi and Jaxx Briggs, the imperial family plus Tanya, Khameleon, and Li Mei, the Lin Kuei, Ashrah and Syzoth, Liu Kang and Geras, and the Fengjian-born monks. After all, the true-to-life heroes were the inspo for such a great movie.
Bi Han would have thrown the invitation away, if it weren't for your curiosity. During a slow day in Arctika, you sat in his lap and watched him go through numerous papers of diplomacy and information, but your eye caught on a small piece of paper that was buried underneath. You took it and read it out loud, to which you begged Bi Han to answer and say you could go.
He couldn't say no to you. He may have cryo in his fingertips, but it melted under your warmth. You, his lovely partner, had him in the palm of your hand. Plus, your puppy eyes were practically irresistible, so he just had to say yes (even though he huffed it out). He remembers watching you run out and call upon his brothers, to which all three of you came back and cheered happily at the chance of seeing your friends again.
Bi Han hated to admit it, but he did miss everyone, especially the doddering Earthrealmers. He didn't say it out loud, though, knowing you'd use it against him.
So now, here he was, with you by his side as he watched his companions eat, drink, swim, and carry a jovial air during this meeting. More specifically, he was watching you watch Tomas, Kuai Liang, Johnny, Kitana, and Kung Lao swim in the indoor pool. Splashing like grade-schoolers, you laughed at how Johnny was getting everyone wet with his large splashes. He looked like a little kid, proud of how big his waves were.
To prove how strong he was, he decided to flex his muscles at everyone watching, His signature, flashy smile was plastered on his face as he proudly showed off his external features, his muscles accentuated by the dripping chlorine water. You turn past Bi Han and see Geras and Liu Kang together, and the former shake his head. He's got a friendly smile on his face, which betrays the words he mouthed to you.
"If only I had made him more humble," you read his lips. You chuckle, rolling your eyes to the demi-god.
Johnny catches this and rushes over to you, muscles in front of your eyes as he grunts like a powerlifter. You laugh at his playful antics, knowing he meant no harm in them. After all, despite his flirty personality, you knew he respected your relationship with Bi Han. Hell, even with his fame, he stayed loyal to his wife- a rare gem that shone brightly against the muck of Hollywood.
"Rate the charm, (y/n)," he huffs, keeping his chest puffed as he hits the Icarus pose.
You laugh some more, noticing his over exaggerated facial expressions as he kept flexing. Your face is red due to the laughter, but Bi Han thinks otherwise. He moves quickly, heart controlling his actions instead of his mind.
His hand is firmly on your chin, and you gasp as he turns your face to meet his. He has no color on his face, but you know he's feeling something due to the edge of his ears flushed pinkish-red. He stares deeply into your eyes as he speaks low.
"Do not be swayed by useless flattery, (y/n)," he said, "Eyes. On. Me."
The room is quiet, all eyes on you three. Johnny is staring between you two as he slowly backs into the pool. In fact, he gently brings Kitana and Kung Lao together in the front, hiding behind Tomas and Kuai Liang. The four shoot him a glare as they try to watch their very own soap opera.
Bi Han is not one for PDA- ever. He showed it privately, making a sure that even his brothers do not see. You think hard, trying to figure out why he was acting like this- then it clicked.
The oh-so mighty, notoriously cold, Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was jealous.
You stifle your laugh, hand on his cheek as you announce his feelings without his consent.
"Jealous much, darling Bi Han?" you tease.
Kuai Liang's got a shit-eating grin on his face and Tomas leans on Johnny's shoulder to laugh. Kung Lao and Kitana also look amongst one another and begin to chuckle, and the room is animated once more, this time with chatter about the leader of the Lin Kuei.
He takes a deep inhale, glaring at his family as he reels himself back from his vulnerability. It's too late, though, as you latch onto his arm and coo at him teasingly, tracing the muscles on his biceps with your fingernails.
"My little blueberry, jealous over an actor?" You tease some more, "Your ears are pink too, honey!"
Bi Han just groans out loud, a hand rubbing over his face as he can hear his brothers completely lose it. Kuai Liang was leaning on Tomas as he was leaning on Johnny, their howling laughter drawing Bi Han closer and closer to them. He strips his traditional garb off and is only in his pants. He towers over the three rascals that dare put him in this situation, arms crossed and his scowl deeper than possible.
"You two have no idea with whom you're dealing with," Bi Han yells as he sends himself into the pool, his impact creating little waves that rock everyone in the pool. You watch him in pure shock, and he rises from the water with a terrifying smile on his face.
You get up to try and stop him from rough housing too hard with his family and Johnny, but you feel a hand on your shoulder. Turning, it's Ashrah with a silly smirk on her face and Syzoth right behind her.
"Best to leave them alone, (y/n)," she tells you gently, "Besides, it seems they are all enjoying themselves."
You want to protest, but looking back in the pool, you see the loving smiles on the Tomas's and Kuai Liang's faces as they splash their eldest brother. Sighing, you give up and sit with the Outworld couple, phasing in and out of conversation since you're too busy watching the water cascade Bi Han's features as a rare, soft smile is on his face.
=====================
Tomas
Tomas taps a tambourine rhythmically as you're next to him shaking a shaker egg, acting as accompaniments to Kung Lao and Raiden's sister's duet. They're both singing an old Chinese song, Raiden saying it was the stuff their parents listened to.
It's been a couple of years since the timeline debacle regarding Shang Tsung, Titan Shang Tsung, Quan Chi, and General Shao, and everyone involved in saving the realms was invited by Johnny and Kung Lao to Madam Bo's place for food, friends, and musical fun. Initially, Kung Lao invited Raiden, his sister, and you- Wu Shi friend group. However, Johnny had overheard and decided to insert himself in the group, offering to plan the entire ordeal.
Hesitant, Kung Lao allowed him to, but tonight was clear he went above and beyond to accommodate for everyone, especially the Outworlders that would be seeing Earth for the first time in many millennia. Karaoke was a good move on Johnny's end, since music could unite anyone and anybody, and tonight was more than enough proof.
As you shook the egg, you saw how Tanya and Mileena danced together, the former spinning the latter woman around. You also saw Harumi and Kuai Liang dance, though it looked more like Harumi leading a headless chicken. It filled you with joy, peace finally befalling the universe.
The song ends with Raiden's sister's voice gently falling quieter until the background music ended. At that, you and Tomas stood up alongside the duet, bowing as your friends cheered and whooped for the talent. You and Tomas put the instruments back in the bucket that held the other ones, sitting back down as you waited for the next singer (or singers) come grab the mics. You sigh and lean into Tomas's shoulder, to which he silently puts his hand around your shoulder to bring you close. He plants a kiss on on the top of your head, and you preen in pride and love at his affection.
You both are drawn out of your comfortable silence by Mileena and Kitana grabbing the microphones, tapping it with confused faces as they try to understand the "magic" in front of them. The twins whisper among themselves, the mics a little too close to one another, and the repercussions of their negligence are paid off with a shriek from the speakers. Everyone covers their ears, Johnny coming to the empress and princess's side to fix it.
"Okay, your lovelinesses," he said with a nervous chuckle, "This 'magic' is sensitive. So, keep a distance while singing."
He leaves them and they clear their throats, Kitana announcing themselves, "Tonight, our song will be one from tradition."
You look at Mileena, who seems to be looking at her sister with silent understanding, "A toast! To longstanding peace among the realms!"
You snd Tomas lift your glasses, him planting a kiss in your cheek, and you two cheer with everyone as they say "peace" all together. Mileena also offers their song to someone special.
"For our mother, our beloved Empress Sindel," she says confidently, "May she watch over us from the Living Forest!"
It's a little more hushed, the dedication personal to the women, but everyone pushes through and offers more cheers in Sindel's name. Once that's done, the twin sisters begin singing their song.
Their voices carry love, endearment, and power, singing in their native language. It was like a siren's song, addicting and enchanting, and you can't help but close your eyes and sway gently to their voices.
Your eyes open to check your surroundings and see the following: Li Mei and Khameleon twirling around one another as they sway their hips, Raiden dancing with his little sister (also spinning her around), and Tanya bumping the side of her hip with the tambourine, matching the sound and rhythm of her lover and dearest sister-in-law. You clap your hands along and wiggle your hips too, Tomas chuckling at your attempt to dance.
Tanya seems to hear the commotion where you are, and she dances her way to your seat. She takes your hand and offers a loving smile, taking you in her arms and teaching you how to dance with them. Unknown to you, though, Tomas simply watches in silence as his lover is taken away from his side. He tries to hide his feelings, after all you were just dancing with a friend, but he couldn't help it.
He grits his teeth and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly showing his odd discomfort of seeing you dance with Tanya. The smoke, that usually surrounds him without shape, rises in thin lines. It seems Johnny and Kung Lao notice the Czech man's dilemma, naming his affliction for him.
"Oooh~," Johnny draws out as he wraps his arm around his shoulder, "Smokey bear here's got it bad!"
Tomas tries to fix himself, "I am- I am not! I'm simply watching her dance with friends- no more and certainly no less."
Kung Lao eggs him further, "I believe he is trying to mask his discomfort, but you're such a bad liar, Tomas!"
Your focus is drawn away from your impromptu dance lesson to Tomas and friends, the poor man subject to childish torments and jokes. You decide to meet him, dancing just as Tanya did when she got to you.
Tomas sees you and immediately gets away from his friends, sweeping you in his arms as he leads you two back to the floor. You're shocked for sure, but smile as you dance, him twirling you around to shake, shake, and shake.
He notices you looking at Tanya's moves, mimicking her in your own, aloof way, bur enough's enough. Tomas grabs your cheeks gently (but firmly), making sure your beautiful eyes stay on his own.
"Not her, love," he says rather darkly, going against his personable manner of speaking, "Me. Only me. Eyes. On. Me."
You can hear Johnny and Kung Lao whoop and holler, but you can't look away from your boyfriend's eyes as he lays his command. Realizing the situation, you smile softly and gently tap his hands to let you go.
"Childish, aren't they?" you comfort him as he continues to act as your dance partner.
He sighs and frowns, "They can truly be so immature."
Even after Kitana and Mileena's song, you two kept dancing to whoever sang next, never taking your eyes off him.
Well, only once did your eyes wander from his, and it was to watch Kung Lao and Johnny get scolded by Liu Kang and Raiden.
=====================
Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang sat next to you on a picnic blanket, gently grazing his fingers on your back as the gentle spring breeze billowed through the cherry blossom trees at the Fire Temple. You breathe in and exhale calmly, a peaceful air among you two and the many friends present. Looking around, you see Mileena and Tanya on their blanket together, Mileena's head on the Matron Superior's shoulder. You also note Kitana and Raiden on their own blanket, Raiden a nervous wreck next to the beautifully deadly woman.
Many familiar faces surrounded you, and your heart warmed greatly at the fact you could see your friends once more.
Johnny wanted to host a garden party for Kenshi's birthday (lovely boyfriend he is, huh?), but he wanted it to be grand. He somehow managed to convince Liu Kang to bequeath the Fire Temple to his leadership. He technically did, allowing Johnny to plan the party, but only when Liu Kang or Geras was present. Still, it turned out to be a massive success.
Kenshi, busy with work in the OIA, Earthrealm's defense, and his own clan, had very little time for himself. He missed home, and not just the scenery of Japan. He missed the food, culture, and the ability to simply take a break and enjoy the wonderful country of Japan. Since he had a target on his back at home, Johnny wanted to bring him a taste of home with their new friends and allies.
Johnny sent invitations out to everyone, you, Kuai Liang, and his family as well. Kuai Liang, as much as he cherished his friends, was busy. Working as second in command for Bi Han was rough, and as much as he loves his brother, he could not figure a way to convince him to take one day to themselves. He made the mistake of leaving the invitation out in the open on his desk. When he left his room, you had found the invite and immediately went to find the leaders of the Lin Kuei.
Bi Han surprisingly said yes, and you all showed up here now. Sat on a blanket next to Kuai Liang and his brothers by your guys' feet, you all cherished this rare break surrounded by friends. Suddenly, Johnny tapped his glass to command attention.
"Thank you everyone for coming to Kenshi's birthday," Johnny said warmly, "Before I kick you all to the curb, I propose a game!"
You looked at everyone on your blanket as Johnny continued, "I've got some papers made and different stuff hidden around the temple. First pair to come back with the entire paper filled, wins a prize!"
You were excited, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, "Come on, Kuai Liang! I wish to win, so let's get up to it!"
He chuckles, "Alright then, love, but slow down. My brothers have yet to come up with us."
You watch as Bi Han gets up with a grunt. He offers a hand to Tomas and lifts him up effortlessly, a smile on his face as he tells him his thanks.
As you're all clamoring about the possible prize, Bi Han simply saying it was a useless ruse. Before you guys could get the papers, Johnny came back with another announcement.
"Agh, sorry guys!" he apologized, carrying a cup of popsicle sticks, "To get rid of bias, and unfair advantages," he looks at his Outworlder friends, "Everyone has to draw a popsicle stick with a number. Find the person with your matching number, come get a paper, and yerrrr outta here!" Johnny says with a baseball announcer voice.
Everyone's hands lunge towards the cup, in hopes that fate would still allow everyone to be paired with who they wished. Unfortunately, no deity heard your prayers, and you've drawn a stick with a "10" on it.
"Daring, did you draw the same number?" you show your stick to him. Unfortunately, he shook his head.
"Unfortunate, I drew a 6," he said with a sad smile. His misery is short-lived, though, as Ashrah taps his shoulder with the same numbered popsicle stick. He gives a polite smile at the demoness and turns to you, only to find a certain Zetarran by your side. Kuai Liang was about to call your name, but you were swept away by Syzoth's eager amusement.
Ashrah chuckles lightly, "Not very pleased, are you, Scorpion?" she amuses Kuai Liang. He simply grunts, but puts a polite face for her.
"Let's just... follow them," Kuai Liang says as he leads the way. Ashrah, despite her own consort with another woman, did not feel affected. Perhaps she was getting used to more "human" emotions, or maybe she was so confident in Syzoth's loyalty. Regardless, she followed him as he followed you and Syzoth.
As he and Ashrah found things on the list, he couldn't keep his gaze away from your enjoyment with the reptilian shape-shifter. You were in awe of how he could shift half of his body to jump high into trees, or the fact that he still had his reptilian tongue despite his humanoid form. You were most interested in his eyes, though. Do not get it twisted, though, you were very much loyal to Kuai Liang and his love, but it wasn't every day you saw someone so vastly different.
As Syzoth explained how his body worked, Kuai Liang had enough and stormed over to you and him. His anger was affected every step he took, the grass behind him leaving trails of burns in the shape of his feet. Your head turned to him as you saw him close in on you, eyes fired up and heart burning for your attention. One of his hands easily takes both of yours, unable to get away from him as his other hand gripped your chin. His thumb caressed your bottom lip as he spoke.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he announces, not caring is Syzoth and Ashrah are behind him listening, "When you look at others, especially other men..."
You try to look at Syzoth, but Kuai Liang's grip is decently firm. You can feel his breath, slightly warm due to his magic.
"Not him, at me. Keep your eyes. On. Me," he commanded.
All you can do is nod as he wraps himself around you for a hug. You sigh in the warmth, inhaling his summer scent and in your own world before realizing what he was feeling.
Your eyes widen, gasping as you separate yourself from him, "Kuai Liang, are you... jealous?"
You can feel him freeze before looking down at you. His eyes don't meet yours, darting everywhere around you as his face flushes pink. You coo at him, patting his head as you look over to your companions.
"Do not worry over this one, Syzoth," you assure him, "His sting is not as deadly as he says it is."
Syzoth puts a sheepish hand to the back of his head, nervously laugh as Ashrah links hands with his free one. Kuai Liang, out of his emotional stupor, begins to profusely apologize to the Outworlders. In fact, he apologized on the way back to Kenshi and Johnny's table, turning their papers as Kuai Liang rambled on and on and on.
You didn't win the prize (which was a huge Johnny Cage stuffed bear with glasses and its own "Johnny" tattoo), but the fact you were considered so precious to your beloved was the best reward you could ever have.
=====================
this was so cute. i think johnny would throw the best parties
i've gotten a couple more requests in the past couple of days, so i'm gonna do my best to finish them before my vacation.
i'm actually wanted to write fics on the known ships/couples already established in MK1, what do you guys think?
thank y'all for reading! and i'll see you guys in the next fic
#mortal kombat#mk1#mk1 2023#kuai liang#tomas vrbada#bi han#scorpion#smoke#sub zero#x reader#tomas x reader#bi han x reader#kuai liang x reader
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Icarus Part 23
Holy shit guys, just two more chapters after this one. Like where has the year gone?
I have started a sequel that will come between this and the face reveal I have been sitting on for ever. This is about the vacation Steve was planning with Eddie in chapter 19. Hopefully it won't take too long and I can put it out this month for spooky season.
In this we have Jeff and Steve having a heart to heart, the heat gets the better of one of the band, and Eddie takes credit for a Jeffy idea. Lovingly, of course.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22
~
When Steve got back to the hotel he was wiped out. He hated those type of press conferences where someone had the brilliant idea to include everyone for ‘equality’ and not wanting to be exclusionary.
It really pissed him off.
He was about to get ready for bed when there was a knock on the door. He frowned at it for a moment. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
He opened the door and was surprised to see Jeff standing there.
“Hi,” he said dumbly.
Jeff huffed out a small laugh. “Hey. Can I come in for a moment?”
Steve nodded and opened the door wider to let the guitarist in. Jeff slipped though and looked around. It wasn’t a hole in the wall type room, it was spacious and clean, but nothing close to the luxury of the type of rooms Jeff and the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys were used to.
Jeff sat down in the arm chair and leaned forward on his elbows.
“So I’ve been meaning to have this talk with you for awhile,” he said with a grimace. “And there’s no way to really beat around the bush with this...”
Steve flopped on the bed and faced him. “Hit me with it.”
“So after Eddie saw the concert in Indy with Dustin,” Jeff started, “he was having a bit of a freak out, unsure what was going on.”
Steve squeezed his eyes closed tightly and pursed his lips. “Ah.” He opened his eyes slowly.
“He saw the moles and was putting two and two together,” Jeff continued.
“He told you,” Steve said dryly.
“He was really upset, thinking that maybe you didn’t trust him.”
Steve clasped his hands together and looked down at them. “Oh.” Yeah, he could see how any of his friends might think that, but Eddie especially.
“And look, I talked him out of that kind of thinking,” Jeff said. “Because a secret that big? You wouldn’t have told anyone.”
Steve nodded.
“So the reason I brought it up,” Jeff continued, “is because you got the changing the metal culture question tonight.”
“You’ve already seen it?” Steve asked his head whipping up in shock.
Jeff sat back with a huff of laughter. “We watch your band’s interviews as a band. It’s like movie night for us. Popcorn, candy, soda, the works, man.”
A small smile appeared on Steve’s lips and he pursed them to suppress it. “Can I guess whose idea that was?”
Jeff cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. “Go for it.”
“Gareth’s.”
Jeff laughed out loud, his whole body shaking with mirth. “Got it in one, man. Our drummer is obsessed with you guys.”
Steve gave up pretending to hide his smile and grinned at the other man. “And then your frontman started dating their frontman and you were never going to escape it.”
Jeff grinned back. “I’m glad you’re taking this well. I was worried you might not. Because I’m pretty sure Eddie promised to not tell a soul.”
Steve blinked for a moment. “Yeah. But it’s like Eddie knows that when I say I’m not going to tell a soul, I mean everyone but Robin.”
“Fair enough,” Jeff agreed, nodding. “Eddie told me about you when he was watching the interview you guys gave early in your career about the masks and how you guys were shunned at local metal bands for being who you were...”
Steve’s eyes went wide as the implication hit him. “Holy shit.”
Jeff ran his tongue over his teeth with a grin. “Yeah. Because we both know that Corroded Coffin would have been absolutely at the top of bands screaming about a bunch of preps trying to break into the metal scene and to go back to pop where you came from. Which isn’t fair.”
He ducked his head with a bashful smile. “You guys didn’t have go that far, though.”
“The hell we didn’t,” Jeff huffed. “How many good bands had been torn down because they didn’t fit the mould of whatever they were trying to break into? Too many and that’s not right. Not in pop, not in country, and sure as hell not in metal.”
“Thanks, Jeff.”
Jeff nodded once. “You bet your ass. I just want you to know that I have your back. No matter what. And that includes against Gareth if I have to.”
“How is he doing by the way?” Steve said somberly.
“He’s doing better,” Jeff replied. “He’s hit a couple of rough patches, but he’s improving, especially now that he has a place to put that reckless energy. I hate to say it, but think Bri was right waiting for him.”
Steve smiled. “That’s good.”
“How are you doing?” Jeff prodded. “Don’t think I didn’t know about the meltdown after the duet.”
Steve blushed deep and dark, ducking his head. “I’m doing okay. I’m learning to reach out and ask for help. I never really had anyone growing up. My parents didn’t care, my friends were only with me because what I could give them. Hell, my first girlfriend did the same fucking thing. Then the kids see me as an older brother, and so do my bandmates. Like who was there for me to rely on?”
“Well, Robin for a start,” Jeff said leveling a glare at him. “Eddie for another. Now Vickie. And clearly Shane. You better add me to your list of people to depend on, too. Because I am there for you.”
Steve let out a shuddering breath and then nodded. “Thanks, Jeff. You’re right, my support system is bigger than I thought, especially if I let people in to help me.”
Jeff stood up and held out his hand to Steve. “Come on, you could use a beer or three and I’m buying.”
Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“That’s the spirit!”
Steve grabbed his wallet and keys and followed the guitarist out of his room. Like Gareth, maybe he could get better too.
~
“What do you mean I’m out?” Shane hissed at no one in particular as he rummaged through makeup kit. He looked up at Robin as Celeste. “Someone send someone else to get me more body paint and then I’ll pick up some on our way to the next town.”
She nodded and pulled out her cellphone, grabbing one of the empty bottles from him.
He waited impatiently with the mask on for the PA to arrive with it and when it finally arrived he just started smearing it everywhere.
“Are you sure that’s the right stuff?” he whined as it caked on thicker than normal.
“It should be,” PA huffed. “It looks just like the bottle you gave me.”
Shane huffed but continued to apply it all over, with the PA helping with his back and places he couldn’t quite reach.
“I can’t believe there is fucking draft right where my kit is,” Spence growled. “You guys are going to be as hot as hell while I freeze my ass off back there!”
Shane rolled his eyes. At least Spence could layer, they still had to wear their fucking hoods in this fucking hot weather. No more outdoor venues in the middle of summer.
They couldn’t even do their drop from the rafters in this place, cursing whoever it was who picked it.
“Stop your bitching,” Robin huffed. “It was a last minute change because they had a leak at the other venue and they feared black mold!”
Steve ground his teeth. “I swear to God, if one more thing goes wrong today, we are never coming back to this fucking town!”
They all agreed.
They got into position and waited for the spotlights to come on. One by one the spotlights came up in their color, Azrael even getting a cool black light.
Half way through their set, Astraeus started to sway a little. Abbadon checked in on him, but the bassist waved him off. He was fine.
Then suddenly he wasn’t fine. In the middle of one of his solos, Astraeus crumpled, going straight down.
Abbadon rushed to his side. He looked up at Azrael who nodded.
Jeff and Eddie who were watching from the sidelines like they did every night gasped in shock.
“Shit,” Jeff said pawing at Eddie’s chest. “Go! Swap clothes with Azrael, they need a medic and Azrael needs to be seen with the rest of the band.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Why me?”
Jeff grabbed his shirt and pulled him in close. “Curly hair, right build. Go!”
Eddie ran to the back of the dais and both Azrael and Hopper glared at him.
“You need to be seen next to Astraeus as much as he fucking needs a medic!” Eddie repeated.
Hopper and Azrael nodded and Hopper began handing Eddie the drummer’s clothes. He pulled off his own clothes and quickly yanked on Spence’s.
“Thank fuck you wore sleeves today,” he hissed as the shirt went over his head. “Otherwise the gig would be well and truly up.”
Spence frowned for a moment and then realized. “Your tattoos!”
Eddie nodded, tugging on the pants and boots as fast as he could. Soon Azrael was EMT Spence and Eddie was Azrael.
They both dashed onto the stage, making it look like Azrael had gone to get help.
Asmodeus and Abbadon were grateful for the masks to hide their shock.
“I’m Eddie,” he whispered so only they could hear. “Don’t worry about that now. Just focus on Astraeus.”
Abbadon and Spence worked together to get Astraeus off the stage. Spence was yelling at roadies to grab as much ice as they could and to bring it to trailer.
They stripped Astraeus down, removing his clothes and mask and shoved him under the stream of the shower.
“Shit!” Spence growled. “The paint isn’t coming off!”
Eddie as Azrael grabbed one of the bottles that Shane had used. “This is acrylic! Not body paint!”
“Fuck!” Abbadon cursed. “Start scraping it off with your fingers, it should come off like a second skin!”
Eddie and Spence started doing what Abbadon suggested and just started tearing off the layers of paint.
There was a knock on the door and quickly Spence covered Astraeus’s face. Azrael/Eddie hurried to open the door and there were five roadies with huge bags of ice. They started packing the bassist’s body with the ice as they ran cool water in the shower.
It would have been better if they had a bathtub, but there was no way there was anything that big–
“One of the beer booths had a huge ass cooler,” one of the roadies said. “You think he’d fit in that?” He held up his arms to show the dimensions.
Spence and Abbadon looked at each other and then said as one, “Yes!”
The roadie grabbed a couple of other guys and went to go grab it. Hopper went with them.
They came back with the cooler and lowered Astraeus into it. Then they packed the ice around him adding water to fill in the gaps.
Steve gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze when the roadies left. He took off his mask and Eddie did the same.
“That was quick thinking on your part,” Steve said.
Eddie chewed his lip. He knew it was wrong to take credit for something Jeff said, but no one else knew that Jeff knew who the men behind the masks were. And Eddie really didn’t want to freak anyone else with that knowledge. So he nodded.
“I know people can’t see your hair,” he told Spence, “but your hood falls a certain way because of the long curly hair, add having a similar build and I was literally the only choice.”
Spence nodded. “I get it man, plus having the drummer suddenly vanish like that only has two outcomes, and both are fucking shit.”
Steve tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Either Spence’s secret is out, which is horrible,” Eddie explained, “but what might even be worse is having the fans turn on him because he bailed when his bandmate collapsed.”
Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked back down at Shane. “Fucking hell. I didn’t even think about that.”
Then Shane was starting to come around. He opened his eyes and then squinted at Eddie for a moment.
“Fuck, I think I hit my head on the way down.” He struggled to sit up, but Spence held him down.
“Let me take your temperature first, dumbass,” he huffed, pulling out the thermometer. “Make sure you’re not going to die on us.”
Shane settled back into the cooler and rested his head on the rim. “Someone want to tell me what the fuck happened or do I have to play twenty questions?”
So Steve and Eddie explained while Spence took his temperature and blood pressure. After he was satisfied with both he helped Shane out of his makeshift bath.
Shane looked around at the three of them, batting his eyelashes. “Does this mean we never have to come back to this god forsaken town again?”
Spence and Steve laughed while Eddie looked confused. Yeah, Shane was going to be just fine. Right after Steve promised to tell Eddie the joke later.
~
Part 24 Part 25
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence
3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006
4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten
5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95
7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars
8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec
9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology
10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#rockstar steve harrington#rockstar eddie munson#rockstar au
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Wing Man Part 8
Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)
Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.
5.7k Words
a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!
Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.
Anyway, we continue.
Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers.
It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus.
But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you.
“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”
Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question.
“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway.
“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly.
“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you.
“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”
“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.”
“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”
“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate.
“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?”
“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.”
Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with.
What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid-
”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”
There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before.
”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up.
Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?
“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?
“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared.
“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something.
When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.”
That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness.
“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.”
“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”
“And Chris Morrison.”
“And Chris Morrison.”
“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen?
“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”
“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”
When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different.
He really needed a cigarette right about now.
“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him.
“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...
Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched.
You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing.
“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat.
Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen.
When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay.
“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town.
“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag.
“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”
You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy.
Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much.
This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-
Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right?
Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.
The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in.
“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.
“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.”
“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked.
“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”
“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed.
“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!”
“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room.
“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.”
You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm.
“And what plans would that be?” he asked.
“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.
He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet.
“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.”
“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food.
“Friend’s house.”
“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin.
“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before.
“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.”
Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character.
Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do.
What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out.
But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.
Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?
Shit, you were still waiting for a response.
“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star.
“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”
“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”
He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him.
“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”
Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you.
“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”
With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.
“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog.
“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled.
“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?”
“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”
“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.”
“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”
Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally.
“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked.
“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”
Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before.
“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”
“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”
“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher.
“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”
“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”
“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”
If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige.
“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”
You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape.
Then you started laughing. A lot.
“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”
Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question.
“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down.
“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”
“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”
“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table.
“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”
“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”
Five times, but who’s counting?
“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked.
“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”
“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.”
Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!”
“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”
“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!”
Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it.
“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”
“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.
“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now.
The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot.
“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway.
“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”
Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?”
“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered.
Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern.
Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.
So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?
“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.”
“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?”
“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected.
“And green.”
“And green.”
“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”
Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months.
“What’s real to you?”
“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”
Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that.
The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it.
“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”
“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.”
“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?”
“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”
“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”
“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.”
“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again.
“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded.
Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?
“What topic was it?”
“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”
“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”
“You think I’m cute?”
“Extremely.”
You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”
It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent.
“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.”
Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this.
“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”
“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.”
And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day.
“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”
Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first.
“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back.
Next Chapter
Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
Tag List: @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirl320 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistonk @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @bakugouswhOr3 @siriuslysmoking @pookiesnatcher @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @takemetoneverlandbabe @killjoynotes @maelibo
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dark!capa who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman the entire time he’s been on icarus II😵💫😵💫
oh I've been thinking about this since I saw the movie no joke
warnings: DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY, soft!dark/yandere vibes, touch-starved reader (and capa lol), forced creampie
"Please, please, don't fight me," he begged in a soft voice, still pinning you to the cold glass wall with his weight.
But what else were you supposed to do? After working side by side with him for years, even growing to consider him a friend, he'd found you in your room, gone on a bizarre rant about how long the mission was (as if that was some kind of surprise?) and then grabbed you. By the time you realized what was happening, it was far too late to try to talk him out of it, or at least try to make a run for the door.
"I just need--" he choked out, speaking softly by your ear as his hands ran over your body, "I just need to... feel something. Something real."
"Capa, please," you sighed, struggling to keep your composure as he started to attempt to undress you, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. "I know as much as anyone how hard it's been, okay?"
"Then you need this too," he breathed as he pulled your tank top out of the way and ran his fingers softly over your bare shoulder. "I can make it good for you-- I mean, I can try. Kinda rusty, you know..."
"Just please," you whimpered, "stop now-- I won't tell anyone. We can just forget it, go back to... to how things were!"
He shook his head, making you whine as he pressed himself harder against you, kissing the curve of your neck as his long hair tickled your skin. "I can't take it anymore," he explained, "being so close to you, seeing you every day and never getting a chance to touch you... I'm sorry, we can't go back to how it was. It was killing me."
Just as you opened your mouth to protest, or at least ask how long he'd been harboring this secret obsession, his lips ghosted over your pulse and you shuddered. Feeling him smile, you cursed yourself internally for how easily your body responded. He wasn't wrong that it was difficult to spend years without any human contact-- but you strongly disagreed with his solution.
He reached down into your shorts suddenly, making you gasp in shock. "You're wet," he noticed with a purr.
Okay, maybe you didn't disagree that strongly... or at least, your body didn't. But your mind was racing with confusion and fear, realizing how much worse this was going to get: tonight was only one problem. You still had years left on this ship, trapped with him, working in the lab right by him every day... he was completely inescapable.
You whimpered and tried to push him away again, but he shushed you and started to push his own pants down, pushing you roughly back against the wall when you resisted. "Shh, hey," he hissed, sliding your shorts down and guiding his erection to your opening, "it won't be so bad. I just need this-- I'm sorry, I know you... I know you trusted me. But I need this. I need to be inside you."
Pushing in with a loud moan, his hips forced yours against the wall-- until a hand settled on your hips and pulled them back; he looked down at where he entered you, groaning and sighing as he already started to move.
"S'been so long," he mumbled, "s-so warm..."
"Stop," you choked out, "please--"
"I can't stop," he whimpered, burying his face in your neck again and kissing you more hungrily there. "I'm sorry, I can't stop-- you feel too good. Fuck. Like you were made for me."
Moving faster, he kissed away your tears, still offering apologies sometimes between his deep and desperate moans. For a while, you let it happen-- because you didn't have much of a choice in it all-- until his sounds got louder and his movements more erratic. Erratic enough that you could hear skin hitting skin, and his dogtags dangling.
"I'm close," he panted in your ear, "fuck, I need to fill you."
"N-no, Capa," you choked out, "not inside..."
He didn't say anything, but just the way he groaned and dropped his forehead on your shoulder somehow made it obvious to you that he wasn't going to heed your demand.
"Pull out!" you insisted. "Do you have any fucking idea what would happen if I got--?!"
"I know, I know," he grunted, "but fuck, I-- I can't stop now."
You managed to get your arms out from against the wall and push back on his hips, trying to force him out, but he grabbed your wrists and groaned as he pinned them to the wall, fucking you harder than ever as you sobbed.
"Sorry," he offered one more time, "I need it. I need to fucking fill you up--"
"Please, please," you whimpered.
"--give you every fucking drop of my come," he growled, "so fucking deep inside--"
You shook your head, because you knew it was already a lost cause.
"You're gonna take it so well, I know you will," he praised darkly, "gonna be fucking perfect for me. Just stay still-- please, baby, it's almost over..."
But this was far, far from over.
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Don't Stop
A/n: Since people seem to love James, feed you gremlins <3
Warnings: Smut, oral sex(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), semi-public sex?? If you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy :3
You were laying in bed bored out of your mind. You had the radio going but it was on some older station for conservative grandparents trying to take away rock and metal because of its association with the devil. You wanted to change it but the stereo was on the other side of the room so you just let it play. The music wasn’t that bad. At least that’s what you told yourself.
You were trying to think of something to do, literally anything at that point. Eventually you decided to just get out of bed and get ready, even if just for a walk you needed something to do.
It was while you were getting ready you heard it. It wasn’t faint, a very loud ringing sound, almost. You looked out your window and from there you could see a blond dude was playing guitar in his garage with the door wide open. You stared at him for a while, opening your window and leaning out to really hear you.
He looked around a bit when he felt eyes on him and eventually saw you hanging out your window. He smiled and waved at you before looking back to the guitar in his hands and started playing Flight of Icarus by Iron Maiden. You watched for a bit before finishing getting ready, this time with a new purpose.
You left the window open so you could keep listening to the blond as he played some of your favourite songs.
Once ready you quickly rushed to meet him, telling your parents you were going on a walk before heading out and going across the street.
He watched as you came closer, trying to focus on his playing but quickly losing track of the song when you came over to him. “Don’t stop.” You urged as you came in and sat beside him. He was on an old couch that looked to have been around for a while.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I just- I got distracted, is all.” He said with a goofy grin, looking down at his lap as he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “You wanna try?” He asked, nervously pushing the guitar towards you. You hesitated but took it anyway and strummed out a chord. All it was was a wall of noise, definitely not good noise.
You held your hand over the strings to get it to stop and heard him laughing beside you. His laugh was so pure and giddy that it made you smile too.
You handed the guitar back, but not before adding “Guess we know who’s been practising.”
He took it back but didn’t play anything. “I’m James.” He said, finally looking up at you. You told him your name and he just kept staring at you. “You’re- nevermind.” He mumbled and went back to playing.
“No, wait, I wanna hear it.” You said, leaning forward so you could look up at him. He had that same smile as he played, now making this a game. You followed the wire leading out of his guitar to find where it connected and unplugged it from the amp.
“Hey, I was using that!” He exclaimed as he reached over you to plug it back in. You held the cable over your head and farther away from him.
“Nuh-uh, tell me what you were gonna say about me!” James set his guitar to the side and got up to get the cord but you kept pulling it away from him, switching hands to make it harder as you giggled at his frustration. The grin never left so you assumed he was having just as much fun with you as you were him.
James eventually got your wrists in his hands and held them above your head so he could get the wire back. “Wow, didn’t know you were into this stuff, Jamie.” You giggled as he plugged it back in. You watched his face flush and he dropped your hands, shyly going back to sit beside you to keep playing. “You only know metal songs?” You asked, not particularly mad if he did, but he shook his head and started playing something else.
“I know other songs,” he said, gaze fixated on the strings, “I just really like metal.” You hummed in understanding, watching for a moment longer before leaning your head on his shoulder. His fingers paused for a moment and he looked at you.
“Don’t stop, I like watching you play.” You mumbled. “You have nice hands.” You said even softer, though you know he heard you.
He let his hand go to your leg for a moment, running up and down your thigh and giving your knee a squeeze before he went back to playing.
James only got through a few riffs before he stopped again. This time he got up, set his guitar down and went to the door leading into his house. You thought he was leaving but he just clicked a button to get the garage door to close, locking you in there.
You looked around as the room darkened almost completely before James turned the light on, though it didn’t help a whole lot and cast a yellow tint to everything.
“I’m sorry, I just think you’re the hottest person I have ever seen.” He still had that nervous smile that seeped into his voice but his tone carried a sense of desire now.
Once he got close enough to you he got on his knees, planting his hands on your thighs. You had to admit, the switch in behaviour was hot, especially the way he looked up at you with such need.
He undid your jeans and pulled them down, leaving your panties to give you some sense of comfort. He saw the wet spot that had formed on them and bit his lip. “Fuck, you’re so...” He trailed off.
“So, what?” You asked. “If you’re gonna say something, say it.” You said. He looked up at you and kissed a trail up your inner thigh, leaving a few bites before kissing your clothed clit.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He smiled and tugged your panties down. He licked a strip between your folds, gathering the slick that was already there before he pushed his tongue into you. Your jaw dropped in a soft ‘oh’ as he lapped at you.
His tongue circled your clit and dipped into you. Soon he brought his fingers up and pushed on into you as well, causing you to throw your head back.
Your hands found places in his hair, tugging on the blond locks and pulling his head closer to you. “Hah~ Fuck, Jamie! Jamie, ‘m gonna cum.” Your words came out breathy between moans. He stuck another finger into you, now fucking your hole with two of his long, calloused digits while his tongue worked wonders on your sensitive nub.
You bucked your hips to meet his pace as you started to cum undone. “Cumming, fuck- ‘m fucking cumming!” You practically screamed. James slapped a hand over your mouth but didn’t stop, instead choosing to let you ride out your high on him.
When he saw you were starting to twitch at the overstimulation he pulled away and sat back next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and holding you close. “My brother’s home.” He said and kissed your forehead. “Gotta stay a little quiet.”
You huffed and nuzzled closer to him. “A warning would’ve been great.” He chuckled softly at you and wiped his mouth and chin which were coated in your juices. You looked up at him with a smile and stars in your eyes. “Your turn?”
James paused and looked back down at you.
#metallica x reader#metallica smut#metallica imagines#metallica fanfiction#metallica#james hetfield fluff#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield fanfiction#james hetfield
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Something I didn’t mention before when talking about the Rael stream (I THINK) was just. Icarus talking to themself. I dunno if it was just cause there was another person there but they just. Say their thoughts out loud. I’d assume they always do that, one way to fill the odd silence-not-silence of the worldport. A way to organize their thoughts so their not just in their head the whole time, something we’ve seen just before in season 3.
Do u think they “talk” to the Sherbs? Not actually talking to them of course, but talking similar in a way we the chat watch/consume media? Just a person typing on a screen or saying something out loud in response to what they’re watching. Icarus wouldn’t be typing- just- What if they just pretend to give input/feedback into what they’re doing? I think sherb said before on here that they like to imagine Icarus yelling at the doors like people do watching sports- but also that with like talking to your TV. If something happens you’ll go like “why would you do that!” Or “[insert item here] was right there you idiot” “now you’re dead. Well who’s fault is that [character]!” Atleast I do that. I think It’s just the same thing they do in the worldport.
I just think it’s silly.
#you’re getting the unfiltered 1:00 am thoughts#idk what I’m doing#ignore spelling errors I’m eepy#fable smp#fsmp#fsmpblr#fablesmp#icarus morningstar
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Hermes! I come with more questions to help you out with... Ace In A Cage AU! This is... part three!
• How do the Brotherhood of X find out Remy is Gambit, or at least a younger, alternate version of him?
• How does Renegade treat Remy? How does Sabretooth? How does Wolverine? How does Rogue?
• How do they take care of Remy as he's sick, since he had a cold in Icarus?
• How does Remy find out what the World Z mutants did?
• How does Remy figure out their Gambit died? How does he find out how he did die? How does he react?
I hope these help, Hermes!!! Drink your water and take breaks, okay?
the blood tests and other dna tests. it rules out the clone and shape shifter thoughts. (Though his scents too accurate for a shape shifter)
After they figure it out: renegade treats him kinda like he is tiny. Like Remy is five or something. Sabretooth babies him worse and snuggles him a lot. Remy hates the snuggling at first but slowly figures that Sabretooth isn't trying to hurt him. Wolverine treats him a little more like a teen but also demands snuggles.
Remy is a mopey sick person. So he mostly wants to sleep and maybe watch stuff. They get him meds, soup, and read out loud to him.
Maybe he sees a newspaper??? Idk what u think?
He stumbles into Gambit's room. It's been unchanged since the death. Theres a funeral program with a date and photo of Gambit grinning on it. He sits real quiet in Gambit's room. There are strong echoes of emotions.
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Going on vacation to one of the countries that are often cited for surgery facilitated by gatekeepers,,,,, and not getting one,,,,, the agonies
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RYUGA AND GINGA ROLESWAP
Ryuga
Bey is now Storm L-Drago
All except the facebolt is swapped with Storm Pegasus so his new special move is called Draco Meteor I guess lmao
I swear someone on twitter mentioned that but I can’t find the reply
He’s like the metal fury version with a bit of metal fusion mixed in
He’s always bickering with Kyoya lol
“Pay your fucking repair tabs.”
“Later.”
OK SOO LORE STUFF
Umm so basically Dark Nebula is now the Nebula Organization
Their mission is to protect the forbidden bey, Lightning Pegasus, and prevent it from getting in the wrong hands
Unfortunately Hagane Ryusei, who now has Doji’s role, has other plans <3
He and Ginga steals the bey
Doji, who allegedly dies in this event, tells Ryuga he needs defeat Ginga and get it back
Ryuga is more pissed that the guy he lost to shit talked him than the fact that his GUARDIAN is DYING
So he’s like “You don’t even need to tell me!!”
And Doji is like ugh of course. And he launches Storm L-Drago to him before dying
And so his adventure begins!!
Before metal fusion, he didn’t really understand the point of having close allies(he means friends but he refuses to use that word) and didn’t bother to make any
And so over the course of the fusion and masters he learns to open up more and let people into his life
I like to think that after the defeat of Ginga, everyones celebrating and hes like damn.. This is nice. And he has a sincere little smile
And then Kyoya and Madoka are like “OH MY GOD???? HE’S FUCKING SMILING???? GUYS ARE WE SURE THE DARK POWER IS GONE….. ARE WE SURE IT DIDN’T SOMEHOW TRANSFER TO HIM??!@$@#$&@^#*&@!#@^??”
Hagane Ginga
I still feel a little iffy about his outfit colors but this’ll do for now…
Yes, I like Kid Icarus
And Fire Emblem
Anyways
So yeah his bey is Lightning Pegasus, this universe’s forbidden left-spinning bey
Ginga now is like metal fusion Ryuga, just louder and energetic
Post metal fusion he’s still a loud asshole but hey no more dark power
Like I said earlier, he stands on his toes at all times so his feet look like horse legs
Bro his calves are RIPPED
I didn’t think about that part until after I drew him tho so you can’t really tell lol
I don’t feel like adding that detail rn…
He is also very particular about his wing scarf
If you get them dirty he WILL kill you
I think that when he was a kid he was lonely and didn’t have friends
So similar to the song kirai kirai jigahidai (https://youtu.be/0c9958OoTL8?si=OlwGSQeuU6NBRjhB), he uses being strong at beyblading to try to get friends
But oh no he’s strong and being an ass about it so he doesn’t make friends
He makes up for it by being loud on top of that so everyone’s attention is on him
He wants to keep getting super stronger! So Ryusei (Sorry Ryusei) manipulates him to use him as a tool to harness the dark power
Post metal fusion, he regrets what he’s done
Still an asshole
But anyways, like the song again, he forgets his own self outside of beyblading
So he’s like fuck. People hate me for being an ass, how am I gonna make connections when I don’t have any other personality trait?
So then he’s going places just chilling and fucking around in hopes to find himself again
And then ta dahh he dies in metal fury and says to Ryuga like “Do you think we’d have been friends in a different universe?”
Corny but whatever you get the idea
Initially I wasn’t planning on having him die, but also omfg figuring out his outfit colors took away 10 years of my life so this is what he gets…
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Hi. I finished your new video essay yesterday, after two sittings. Had to split it, because it came out in the late evening in my timezone, and my roommate was already sleeping - I was super afraid of waking her up with my loud, uncontrollable bursts of laughter (your sense of humor never fails me). I was so, so excited about this video for many months (I almost dropped my phone when I saw your runtime post), and, as always, you managed to completely amaze me in every possible way.
As always, of course, the backgrounds and decorations, the whole setup - were stunning. I LOVED the stained glass - is this a pattern now? I want this to be a pattern, you have a gift - and the wax wings, and the nonchalant way you glued them together throughout the video. Your shirt-vest combo was also what made it so good as a whole and also made me want to rob your wardrobe. Beware.
Ford's faults (and "faults") you mentioned and your arguments against them were something I've been deeply convinced of myself for years now and expected to hear them from you as well. It was deeply, deeply satisfying to hear them ALL, even the smallest, most ridiculous ones, out loud, for the first time ever. It was truly a freeing experience, and I can't thank you enough. You took all of those allegations - from the lack of a better word - that people have been coming up with since 2015 and pointed their lack of logic, thought, and attention to detail, or sometimes just plain stupidity and ignorance, out. And did so with style.
I could ramble here for a really long time about my thoughts on the character of Stanford Pines and how, for years, I observed people interpreting him in a way that's been completely different from mine. About how it baffled me, angered me, made me sad. But it's no use for me to do so because you've said everything I've ever wanted to. You saw all the same things and pointed them out in a way no one else in this fandom could. And it healed something in me. It made something click back in place. Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart.
The thing that I DO need to point out specifically is the ending. Something that I think always angered me the most in Ford's canon story. How after everything that happened, after everything he's bern through, he doesn't see himself as a victim of Bill, a victim of abuse and manipulation that ruined his life. He sees an Icarus metaphor. And it is the way the narrative wants us to see him - it wants us to see Ford as a man that fell because of his "pure ego", overachieving behaviour, because of his refusal to listen to the voices of reason, because of him isolating himself. His happy ending in the series is bound to being remorseful, apologising to everyone he's ever hurt and changing, and then getting the forgiveness and happiness coming from it. He's made a lot of mistakes, of course. Some of them he made completely on his own, because of his flaws, personality, and ways of perceiving the world. But others (and I would say the biggest ones, the ones getting pointed out the most) are a mix of both his personality, and, majorly, abuse and trust being broken over and over again. And in the end, it doesn't get acknowledged, not really. He doesn't say, "I am a victim of abuse." He says,"I was wrong. I was cruel. Please, forgive me." And shows ends it on that note, making it the final conclusion. And it's a thing that always has been the root to Ford's tragedy in the series to me. And I've never seen anyone mention it, talk about it, even amongst Ford's defenders. And you pointed it out perfectly with the Icarus metaphor in the end.
I don't know how many too-long-for-my-own-good-and-probably-yours-too asks I will have to write again, but I know that as long as you continue to make your "little" masterpieces, I'm going to watch them on the same day, and then think about them for weeks after. And in many of those cases I feel the need to inform you of my constantly growing amazement. I hope you don't mind. I hope you know your work is admired by many, many people, and I just happen to be one of them. I hope you get some well-deserved rest. And for the last time here - thank you so, so much.
I've had this sitting in my inbox for a while and I've struggled to find the words to respond, but I'm very glad the video resonated with you so much. And I'm honored that you enjoyed it like this.
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To Gareth, From Ronnie
A/N: This is based off the prompt for Day 3 of @corrodedcoffinfest- Day 3: Best Friends
Summary: Ronnie writes a letter to Gareth detailing the truth about being Eddie Munson's best friend. (Ronnie is a character from Flight of Icarus by Caitlin Schneiderhan, but you don't need to have read the novel to understand this piece!)
Word Count: 442
No content warnings other than strong language!
Divider credit to @steddiecameraroll-graphics
Gareth,
If you’re reading this, it means I’ve already left Hawkins. I told Jeff to put this in your mailbox for me since my flight leaves early in the morning; I wanted to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into here.
It is not easy being Eddie Munson’s best friend.
Sometimes it feels like it is, I know- he can make you smile in an instant, he has a joke for literally every occasion. He never knows when to quit trying to make everything seem okay. He can talk his way out of anything, and no matter how long you’ve known him, his talent for getting himself into trouble then back out of it within moments never ceases to amaze.
But here’s why I’m writing you this letter- the real secret about Eddie.
He is loyal to a fault. When you have his allegiance, it’s for life, and by that I mean he would probably give his life for his friends if he thought it was the right thing to do. You’ve seen it firsthand; how many times have you found yourself in deep shit, only for Eddie to save your ass? Who’s the one getting himself beat up time and time again just so you can have an opening to run away? It’s noble, yes, but it isn’t sustainable, kid.
He can only get beat up for you so many times. I know it isn’t what you want to hear, but you need to stop being so fucking reckless. You don’t have to pick every fight you see an opportunity for, because from now on it isn’t just your ass on the line. Eddie’s going to put his there too, every damn time. Because that’s how he shows people he cares about them.
It’s how I know he cares about you, because I’ve seen him get more black eyes with your name on them than anyone else’s.
Eddie makes mistakes- big ones- but he always wants to do the right thing. Sometimes he’s going to think that the wrong thing is actually the right thing, so he needs…direction. Frequently. Hope you’ve got a strong moral compass. And a larger capacity for forgiveness than me.
Between Hellfire Club, taking my place as drummer (good luck with that, by the way), and Eddie repeating senior year, you’re going to be around him a lot. He won’t say it out loud, but he’s going to need you. He’ll have the rest of the younger guys, I know that, but he needs a right-hand-man. I think you’re up to the challenge… but hey, maybe I’m wrong and you’re a total loser.
Please prove me right, Gareth. For Eddie’s sake.
Ronnie
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Icarus laughed as he fell
Credits to fiona for the original poem!
Here is what they don’t tell you:
Icarus knew he was in too deep. They’d said it out loud, leaning against the cave entrance.
“I’m in too deep now.”
The words left their lips in a shaky whisper that they knew no one would ever hear. They felt so helplessly, utterly alone as they sobbed against the cold rock. The word their friend had once called them circled through their mind.
Failure.
They knew he was right. They’d failed at being a good brother, a good friend, and they’d even failed at being themself.
They knew their back pressed against the same stone wall that had been splattered with the blood of their best friend by the blade of their father. Within the walls of this cavern, the fighting between Centross and their Dad replayed in their head. The purple scythe of the violet reaper turning their father mortal, and sealing their best friend's death wish. The golden sword through his chest. His smile as he faded into the stars, leaving nothing behind but the scythe, the now mortal god, and the son the god had almost killed.
Icarus laughed as he fell.
They felt their body wrack with cries mixed with confused, hysteric laughter. They felt disconnected from the winged person who stood from the altar staggering towards the fallen god.
They heard themself screaming,
“You killed him! You killed David!” Their father simply nodded. Almost as if to suggest it had to be done. As if their best friend had to be killed. Their mind flashed to the memories they’d tried so hard to bury.
Threw his head back and
yelled into the winds,
They were in the obsidian bunker, reaching through the gap of the trap that had opened barely enough for them to see.
“David?!” They smiled madly, their matted hair crusted with crimson. A drop of blood traced it’s way down their cheek bone.
“David let me out!” They demanded, their voice was rough and scratchy from hours of yelling. The man looked down at them with cold purple eyes, smiling at the trapped one like a hunter smiles at an animal caught in their snare.
“Y’know, Sherb,” The cloaked man smirked, “I don’t think I will.”
They felt their heart plop into their stomach as they tasted their lunch on their tongue as it forced its way up their throat. “David! Let me out!”
“Sherbert. Here’s what you don’t realize. Once a failure, always a failure.”
“Wha-” Icarus was cut off by the darkening of the world around them. They felt the pain of landing before they felt the explosion of pain in their head.
arms spread wide,
teeth bared to the world.
And then they were back in the endstone reset, on the destroyed roof of Will’s estate. Their hands shook, rain pelting their face, running down the deep purple inset lines of corruption before dripping off their chin. They flung open their arms and screamed at the heavens,
“Isn’t this enough? I killed her! I did what you wanted!” They were hyperventilating now, their chest pressing uncomfortably against the bow slung around their shoulder. The bow they’d just used to kill their best friend for a goddess that hadn’t spoken to them, or shown that she knew he existed.
(There is a bitter triumph
in crashing when you should be
soaring.)
They were standing on a trail of “wack.” As they began to take off, the base of their feathers turned into shards of gold that jabbed into their back and shoulder blades, piercing their skin as the feathers and muscles of their wings crystallized into a mess of amethyst and gold. In a moment of silence that most likely only lasted a few seconds, Icarus realized they were on the ground. Mere milliseconds after this thought, the metal that was now their wings shattered into sharp shards, slicing into their skin, logging into their back, digging into the ground.
One word through the pain.
Quixis.
The wax scorched his skin,
ran blazing trails down his back,
his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
They were standing before the lectern at Haley's funeral, watching the explosion of the tree speed towards them. They heard the loud boom and the rattling of their bones. The fire clawed towards them, dragging itself on the ground like a monster lunging towards its prey. The fire nipped at their two-toned jacket, ashes burning their eyes. It caught them up in flames before the world went blank and they heard a page being torn.
Feathers floated like prayers
past his fingers,
close enough to snatch back.
Snippets of other worlds flew past them, and they caught only a few glimpses. Them trapped in a concrete box trying to save a girl named Charlotte. Them running from a horse sized chicken. Them in front of a screen, talking to words on a box.
Death breathed burning kisses
against his shoulders,
where the wings joined the harness.
Then they were inside the cave. Watching the fighting once more from their place at the altar. Their chest aching as the skin stretched and rearranged in a glitching mess, each unstable breath more painful than the last. Centross and Fable pushing each other around the cave, each one landing punch after punch. Them, not knowing who to defend. Seeing their friend fade into the void. Doing nothing to help him.
Yelling.
Sobbing.
Laughter.
Betrayal.
Then, Fable walking towards them, framed by the sunset.
“I can bring him back.”
The sun painted everything
in shades of gold.
They were back outside the cave. Where they knew they actually were. Curled up into themself. He could get him back. He just needed more power. He was going to kill the primordials and rid the earth of death, or burn the world to shambles if doing so failed. And Icarus, his caged little bird, was going to stand muted at his side in the ashes of a fire they could have put out.
After all,
(There is a certain beauty
in setting the world on fire
and watching from the centre
of the flames.)
#fable smp#fablesmp#fsmp#fsmpblr#icarus morningstar#fable smp sherbert#centross#screaming crying throwing up#fablesmpblr#writing#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#writeblr#fanfiction#fanfic#fable fanart
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Icarus Part 21
Hey guys!! The story is starting ramp up to the finish line! I hope you guys are still enjoying it as much I enjoyed writing it.
In this we have Steve taking back his agency, Eddie and Jeff having a little chat and Abbadon leaning on his friends.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
~
As soon as Abbadon grabbed the mic, the audience knew they were going to be in for a ride.
“Las Vegas!” he roared to the crowd, who roared back. “There seems to be some confusion about how naughty I got with Eddie Munson in Denver.”
The crowd went wild, screaming and jumping up and down.
“I never do anything without prior consent,” he grinned. “I’m a gentleman, until you tell me you want it otherwise.” He winked and the crowd screamed back. “I’m not saying I’m coming for Asmodeus’s job,” Abbadon said, draping himself over his guitarist’s shoulders, “but I’m no innocent. I don’t need protection.” He walked across the stage to Astraeus. “I’ve always been affectionate. But I think it’s time to be put the rumors to bed.”
“Oooooohhhhhh!” Asmodeus and Astraeus shouted and got the crowd to say it with them. Once they were loud enough, Azrael started rapidly tapping his drums to further build up tension.
Just when Abbadon was sure the tension couldn’t stretch much further he said, “I’m not a slut. I’m the slut!” The throng of people roared back. “And I’m not going to hide who I am to make myself palpable to people I’ve never met or no longer have any connection to me. I am Abbadon! I AM THE FALLEN!”
Waiting in the wings was Jeff and Eddie. They had gathered to watch Steve do this in person instead of watching it live in the green room.
Jeff cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. “Whatever else you think of Abbadon and the rest of the band, you have to admit the man has charisma.”
Eddie pressed his lips together and nodded. He was proud of Steve. Of course he was, but it did sting a little that it took Shane to get him to talk about it. Not him, Not Robin. Hell, not even Simon, whom Eddie thought was unhealthily close to Steve. Shane. Of all the band members, Shane had the least in common with Steve. Spence had the EMT thing, Simon, the upper class upbringing. Other than them liking metal, they couldn’t be further apart then if God planned it that way.
Shane came from a middle class liberal family with an older sister he was close with. Hell, he even still talked to his parents while Steve definitely did not. He was a giant nerd who loved history and myths. Steve struggled in school and only made it out alive because he was on three sports teams and captains of two of them. Shane even slept around to Steve’s search for ‘the one.’ Which Eddie really, really hoped was him.
But maybe that was it. Maybe the reason Shane could get through to Steve was because they didn’t have much in common. Maybe their connection were their differences. That they were friends in spite of the gap between them.
Eddie almost wanted to get Steve into therapy like Gareth was. Because even though it always seemed to him that Gareth was one drink away from destruction these days, the therapy did appear to be working.
Steve could really use something like that.
They watched the set a little bit longer.
“Are you sure you’re okay with Abbadon flirting with Gareth?” Jeff asked.
Eddie blinked for a moment wondering where the comment was coming from. Because, sure, Gareth had talked non-stop about Abbadon being his favorite member, even going as far as to tattoo Abbadon’s mask on his left bicep. But Gareth didn’t seem interested in Abbadon as a person.
And it wasn’t like Steve was really interested in him that way before or after becoming a rockstar.
“Gareth and Abbadon both say it’s fine,” he murmured after a moment or two. “And I trust Abbadon.”
Jeff hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah okay. So this time it’s not going to be the duet?”
“No, I don’t want a repeat of last time. Abbadon is going to be taking the lead vocals on ‘Might as Well Fly’, I think he’ll lend a haunting quality to it.”
Jeff pursed his lips. Steve definitely had the pipes for it, but it wasn’t the song out of their discography that he would have chosen for Abbadon to shred.
Eddie huffed beside him and crossed his arms in front of him. “Let me guess, you have other ideas?”
“Can Abbadon play guitar?” Jeff asked rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I guess. He’s like able to play piano, violin, and guitar. Can he play the song you’re thinking of is the real question.”
Jeff turned to him with a grin. “Oh, if I know our friend as well as I think I do, he knows it.”
Eddie frowned at him and cocked his head to the side. “Which one?”
Jeff told him and Eddie rubbed his lips, skeptical. It was a good song. Harder than ‘Might as Well Fly’ and faster too. It had an extra guitar to it because it originally featured a famous guitarist. But it was also the lead guitar on that song.
“Do you really think he can do it?” he asked, licking his upper lip slowly.
Jeff scoffed, “Why? Do you think he can’t?” Eddie just shrugged. “Because holy hell, dude, I was talking to Asmodeus and he was telling me they formed their band over their love of our music. I’m betting if you asked Abbadon he could list his favorite albums alphabetically, chronologically, or which one is best musically. Even before you guys got together, before their band, before we even got a record deal, he’s been your number one fan. And he’s got the chops for it. You know he does.”
Eddie looked around to make sure no one had heard Jeff’s impassioned speech. He ducked his head. “Have Abbadon meet us before we go on to discuss the change while they setup our equipment.”
Jeff grinned and licked his lips. “You won’t regret this. And neither will they.” He jutted his chin out at the roaring crowd.
And yeah, Eddie knew he was being ridiculous about the song. He was trying to play this safe, but Steve didn’t need safe right now. He needed to take back his agency and Eddie knew that this song? It was fucking perfect for Steve. They would be able to feed off the roar of the crowd and give Steve a chance to really show them how good he is.
~
Steve loved the idea of the change in song. Don’t get him wrong, he loved ‘Might as Well Fly’. It just wasn’t the vibe he was trying to send today. Steve already was flying. Now he was raging at the people who were trying to clip his wings. And fuck them.
It meant that he couldn’t start on Gareth’s lap, but that was okay. This was going to be better. A hell of a lot better.
He pulled on his Corroded Coffin logo lined coat and swapped his mask for the lighter everyday one. He was going to need the extra movement for these vocals. He started in the middle again, this time in front of Corroded Coffin instead of between them.
“Hey, Las Vegas!” Eddie cried. “You bitches ready to rock?”
The crowd screamed back and Eddie laughed. “We’ve got a treat for you tonight!” The crowd screamed even louder. “We don’t usually play ‘Nightmare Killer’ because we don’t have that third guitarist.”
The audience went wild, screaming and whistling and stomping their feet in excitement.
“We asked Asmodeus,” Eddie continued. “But he’s too cool for us!” The crowd made teasing booing noises and oohhed. “But that’s okay, we found someone else willing to play.”
The room fell to a hush as Abbadon’s spotlight came on. There was some uneasy wrestling from the audience as he stood with his ear mic and white guitar. Something that eagle-eyed fans would know about Eddie and Jeff was that they didn’t own a white guitar. And all The Fallen fans knew that all of Asmodeus’s guitars were red and vaguely devil themed. This wasn’t his either. This was clearly Abbadon’s.
Abbadon began the opening riff and the crowd took a massive intake of breath as he sailed perfectly through the chunky bits of the original artist’s style. Then he began to sing, the haunting quality of his voice filling in the gaps of the silence that seemed to stretch on from the audience.
Eddie didn’t even bother trying to hold back the look of admiration on his face as he joined Abbadon for the chorus. Their vocals mixing beautifully to the backdrop of a hell beast looking for more from life than the violence it was weaned on.
Throughout the song the only sounds from the crowd were clapping in time to the beat. Eddie had never seen anything like at their concerts before. It was like there was this reverence for what was happening on stage.
Abbadon ate it up and played it up as he enticed the members of Corroded Coffin to him. Each of the members resisted. Then Abbadon handed his guitar off to a roadie and climbed the stairs to the platform that Gareth was on. He straddled Gareth’s lap and drumming cut out as his bandmates played on. From behind it looked like they were kissing, but with Abbadon’s mic off they were making fun of each other. Then suddenly he whirled on Gareth’s lap and hit the drums right on the last note with a crash.
Then in an instant the crowd thundered to life, cheering and stomping and clapping.
Abbadon blew Gareth a kiss and leapt off the platform to take his bows. The flutter of the coat revealing the Corroded Coffin logo again and the crowd screamed even louder. He blew kisses to the crowd and continued to bow. Eddie whistled loudly and Abbadon laughed.
Eddie grabbed the microphone. “Abbadon everyone! One very talented son of bitch! Another round of applause everyone!”
The crowd continued to go wild. Abbadon let out a whoop and jumped up and down, laughing. It was exhilarating, everyone just feeding the energy back to Abbadon and just feeling high off that. Eddie and Jeff shared a glance and Jeff winked. Eddie shook his head. Because yeah, Jeff won that bet.
Abbadon waved goodbye and walked off the stage. Once he was out of view of the audience Hopper swooped in and immediately threw a cool, damp towel over his head and Steve nearly sank to his knees in relief. Because try as they might, the hoods were still fucking hot. Hopper lead him to the dressing room where the rests of The Fallen were waiting.
As soon as the door closed tightly behind Abbadon, Steve pushed back the hood and ripped off the mask. His hair was wet and sweat clung to his face and neck. He let himself sink slowly into the soft cushions of the sofa and laid his head back.
A bottled water was being pushed into his hand and an ice pack was placed on his brow. He let out a small shuddering breath. He opened the water and dumped half of it on his face and the rest into his mouth.
“Thanks, guys,” Steve muttered, his eyes fluttering shut. “How did I look out there?”
Simon huffed a little a laugh. “Like fucking rock god.”
“I’m with Simon,” Spence said. “It won’t silence the naysayers but it’ll drown them out which is even better.”
Steve laughed. “Fuck that was so much fun. Gareth called me a queen. So I called him a bitch. I honestly don’t know if he likes Abbadon more now, or less!”
“Considering how little time you had to prepare,” Shane said, sprawled over an armchair instead of on the floor for a change, “I say you kicked ass. You’re going to get people saying you weren’t really playing but, they can suck your dick!”
Steve lifted his head, the ice pack sliding into his hand. “I hate doing this without you guys, though,” he admitted. “But as Shane pointed out, I’m already super affectionate with you already and short of French kissing Simon, they aren’t going to believe shit.”
“Nothing against you, Steve,” Simon said with a wince, “but I really don’t want your tongue down my throat.”
Shane raised his hand. “I volunteer! I volunteer!”
They all laughed. Then Robin as Celeste slipped in and sat next to Steve. She grabbed the ice pack and pressed it to the back of her neck. They all waited as she let her defenses slowly come down. She pulled off the wig and tossed it Spence who caught it deftly.
“Vickie has been working tirelessly tonight to keep an eye on social media,” Robin began, “she even has two of her assistants watching all the accounts, constantly refreshing.”
Steve turned on the couch to face her. “And what are they saying?”
Simon and Spence immediately moved over to her to sit on either side of her and Steve. Shane sprawled over the back like some Renaissance painting. He rustled her hair and she huffed out a laugh.
“You’re getting the trolls from both fans shit talking about how Abbadon is better than Corroded Coffin and should have turned them down like Asmodeus,” she continued, pausing only for Simon’s huff of laughter. “The Corroded Coffin fans were whining about how Abbadon’s vocals ruined the song and that he probably faking the guitar playing for the views.”
“I’d like to see them fake that bridge,” Steve scoffed. “It’s insane.”
Simon nodded. “I don’t think I could do it.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll post a Tiktok of me trying to play it.”
“Wait!” Spence said. “Have Steve do it first, showing a close up of the hands dancing on the frets. Then you stitch it with your version. That should kick them in the ass.”
Steve and Simon fist bumped each other. “Hell yeah!”
“But the rest of the tweets and shit coming in is overwhelmingly positive,” Robin finished. “So that Tiktok should silence the Corroded Coffin fans.”
When Simon did his stitch of Steve’s video he made sure to admonish their fans about thinking who’s better than who. He was friends with the boys in CC and the being ‘too cool’ was a fucking joke.
Then Eddie did a stitch of both of their videos and showed them again how complicated the riff was for Abbadon to play by playing it himself. Abbadon and Asmodeus’s videos racked up a lot of views and shares, but Eddie’s really did the numbers. It blew up and completely overshadowed all the haters.
Steve made sure to thank Eddie for that later in the privacy of Eddie’s hotel room.
~
Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25
Tag List: CLOSED
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#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#rockstar eddie munson#rockstar steve harrington#rockstar au
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