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#icarus’ burning life stories
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I’m covered in paint varnish for head to toe, sweaty as fuck, slightly dehydrated and just ate mozzarella and tomatoes drizzled with olive oil whole, straight from the fridge; but on the whole I move to replace “go out side and touch grass” with “go outside and do some form of taxing physical labour until your brain shuts the fuck up, your worried don’t seem so big anymore and what ever problems are on your mind fade away till you can finally collapse and rest”
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oglegoggle · 1 year
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Weird double emotion of lonely and longing & too mistrusting of others to really even want to attempt to date now (if ever again tbh)
#this is goggles#just tired of relationships that make me feel like I am the sun to them when really they’ve lit me on fire and are burning me up#so they can in a way pretend to be tragic Icarus who flew too close#I continue to feel like a MPDG to the people I date#like I’m eccentric and handsome and dreamy and fun yeah#But I am not always my best traits#and often I have weird and tricky needs that nobody I’ve been with has really be able or willing to accomodate#I know that I’m very very hard to love at my most raw#it hurts so much to warn someone of this and they insist that they can in fact love me when it’s hard#but then when my hard time love times roll around whoopsie doopsie guess you were right after all#and just I put a lot of work and effort into my relationships desperately wanting to milk even a tenth of the effort in return back out#and I’m tired of it#I’m tired of putting work into others who think I’m some perfect dreamboat who is going to swoop in and fix their life#I tired of putting work into people who won’t put the work into me#couldn’t even schedule fucking counseling for us immediately after his evil cat slashed my literal eyeball#pathetic slob an absolute manchild a sorry excuse for a partner or a son#I sure as fuck felt like a crazy hybrid of partner and dad to him as much as I tried to convince him to do his chores and do them right#this isn’t even the first time that this shit has happened don’t know why I keep letting it#I’m the nameless love interest in your back story that was sooooo dreamy and romantic and good in bed that you dream of him for life#the one you fantasize about when you’re inevitably having problems in your 23 year marriage decades down the line#think about what ever happened to him and wonder if you could’ve made it work#but I’ll be long long gone#you won’t know whatever happened to me or if you could’ve made it work#you’ll go back to your unhappy marriage and tell yourself it’s what you deserve for fucking it up with me#me? I’ll have probably asphyxiated on my vomit or something by then ol’ Jimi style#because let’s be real I’m probs gonna lose grasp on my little Habit eventually#it gets worse and worse with each major trauma I endure#I need the traumatic experiences to stop please I am so so tired#may solitude in the Parks give me peace#may peace give me detachment
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steddielations · 7 months
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Flight of Icarus Character List
Lore Part 1 | Part 2
- Eddie Munson: Our boy is 18 years old, lives alone in his dad's house with Wayne checking in on him. By 1984, he's the lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin and the DM for Hellfire. He's known as Freak King at school, and Munson Junior around town, he hates both. His grades are bad, but the only trouble he gets in at school is getting blamed for fights with jocks that he doesn't start or win. He works as a barback at the Hideout where his band plays sometimes. His status as town pariah due to his dad's criminal reputation and being an outcast deeply affects him. He wants nothing more than to escape that image, even if he's trading it for a different image. The story kicks off when he gets a chance to chase a record deal in California and teams up with his dad to get the money to move.
- Al Munson: Eddie’s dad, he comes in and out of Eddie's life. He's been abandoning Eddie alone/with Wayne for long stretches since Eddie was a child. Al's very charismatic and has even made Jim Hopper laugh. He uses that "Munson Magic" to manipulate everyone around him, he's a conman and career criminal. He taught Eddie guitar, but also taught Eddie to jack cars at age 10 and only sees Eddie as his little minion. He comes back to town, claiming he's fresh out of a prison stint in Colorado with a debt he needs to repay, and enlists Eddie into helping him rob a truck carrying drugs from his former boss. He leaves details out of the story that blow up in their faces. In the end, he leaves again when Eddie needs him most.
- Wayne Munson: Eddie’s uncle, factory job guy and the best caregiver as we all predicted. Wayne’s a quiet guy, very emotionally reserved too. Eddie says he’s never even heard Wayne yell, he’s non-confrontational. He doesn’t like Al, says nothing even when Al tries to instigate an argument. He deeply cares for Eddie. Eddie is very stubbornly independent, so used to being on his own because of Al, and Wayne tries to respect his boundaries while also being concerned, as Eddie gets very prickly about it. He tries his best to keep Eddie from getting roped in with Al, but overall he lets Eddie make his own decisions. He seems like he wants to just bundle Eddie in a hug at times, but they're not to that point yet in the book. In the end, Al's scheme gets their house burned down, so Wayne permanently takes Eddie in. He shapes Eddie by telling him he’s not his dad and to stop caring what people think and not to put himself in a box. Some nice tidbits: Wayne has a green thumb, reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine and goes to a bar called the Attic on Fridays.
- Ronnie Ecker: Eddie’s childhood best friend. She lives with her grandma in the trailer park. Her father passed away and her mother is implied mentally unstable. She meets Eddie when they’re 8. She’s described as tall, taller than Eddie since they were kids, always wearing a corduroy hat, and people mistake them for siblings. She’s the first drummer of cc. Ronnie and Eddie formed the band specifically because they had to do the middle school talent show. Then Gareth becomes the drummer when she graduates. She’s also in Hellfire, wants to go to law school and has a full ride scholarship to NYU. She’s sort of implied aro/ace after Eddie tries to kiss her when they’re 13, she says it’s not just Eddie, she doesn’t think she’ll ever have a crush on anyone. Ronnie is perceptive and smart and she teases Eddie a lot but they’re very protective of each other. Eddie gets blackmailed by Principal Higgins into dropping out when he threatens to jeopardize Ronnie's scholarship. Eddie never tells Ronnie this, even when they have a fight about him choosing to end Hellfire because Higgins convinced him his friends would be better off. This causes them to leave off on vague terms when she goes to NYU.
- Dougie Teague: This could possibly be unnamed freak from the show, but there’s an age discrepancy because he’s the same age as Ronnie and Eddie in the books and it says he graduates. So he would have to fail senior year twice along with Eddie to still be in high school in the show as unnamed freak. Dougie is the backup cc guitar player, whereas unnamed freak played bass in the show. Dougie is brash and blurts things out. He lives where Eddie calls the nice side of town and they rehearse in his garage. Dougie’s mom is not fond of Eddie but lets them practice there. Dougie’s dad is an HVAC truck guy.
- Jeff (no last name): Jeff is a sophomore and the bass player for CC, whereas in the show he plays guitar. Jeff comes across as reserved compared to Eddie and Ronnie. He played D&D with his older brothers before joining Hellfire. Eddie says Jeff knows more about bass than him. Jeff is ‘the nice one’ and generally nervous and anxious. He’s reasonable but he looks up to Eddie and buys into what Eddie says about the band getting a deal even if it’s unrealistic. Jeff is awkward around girls, wants to do good in school and he’s afraid of getting in trouble. The owner of the Hideout bar lets the band split a beer and Jeff is nervous the whole time. Also, when Eddie screws up, Jeff is the first to forgive him.
- Gareth (no last name): Gareth takes on the role of Eddie’s first sheep, whereas everyone else are Eddie’s friends, Gareth is like the little kid he’s fond of. Gareth is a freshman, there’s a whole scene of Eddie helping him create a D&D character. He’s hotheaded and a target for bullies. Eddie sticks up for him a couple times, and once, Gareth barrels in shrieking and throwing windmill punches to stop Eddie from getting jumped by Tommy H and crew, which results in Gareth going to the hospital with a fractured wrist.
- Rick Lipton (Reefer Rick): Rick is a very typical laid back stoner character. He's around 35, described as a giant soft guy with big smiling eyes and friendly face, wearing a Smokey the Bear shirt, and not what Eddie expected from a drug dealer. His house is also not what Eddie expected, being pretty clean compared to Eddie's teenage inhabited space. Eddie meets Rick through his dad, who has screwed Rick over in the past and this makes Rick unwilling to be the buyer of what they're going to steal off the drug truck. Eddie however puts on his best "Munson Magic" and convinces Rick. Rick is impressed and calls him Munson Junior, which Eddie hates. He goes back to Rick at the end of the book, needing money and a job. Rick gets him started dealing.
- Elizabeth Munson (maiden name Franklin): Eddie’s mom, he's a certified mama's boy. She doesn't appear in the book, Eddie says she got sick and passed away when he was around 6. She's originally from Memphis, Tennessee, where she met Al and they moved to Hawkins when she was 19, they got married March 12th, 1966. She loved Eddie's dad but Eddie says Al was always leaving her to go off on schemes. She passed her love of music onto Eddie. Her favorite was Chicago blues, Eddie didn't understand why until she passed and he started to feel it in his bones too. Eddie remembers dancing with her to Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone" and when the song comes on in the truck while he's doing business with Al, it makes him tear up. He recalls this memory several times, it seems like it’s his happiest memory. He says "When Elizabeth Munson was happy, the whole entire world was happy." His biggest connection to his mom was through her music. Then when Al's scheme goes wrong, the people he screwed over show up and burn down their house in an act of revenge. Eddie almost gets killed trying to save his mom's records, but they burn.
- Paige Warner: Paige is a junior scout at WR Music. She's not described beyond having freckles, chin-length dark hair and dark eyes. She has a younger brother on the Hawkins baseball team. At the Hideout, she sees Eddie's band playing and he chalks up the courage to talk to her. (He's squeaky and blushy, no game) Paige is in town for her grandmother's funeral, she remembers Eddie from the middle school talent show, though she is two years older. She likes his band because they're "real". She returns another night and Eddie (after some bad news that makes him desperate to chase his future) propositions her to get them a record deal. She's insulted, having told Eddie that guys use her for that reason, but they agree to work together. Paige pays for the studio time for cc to record the demo tape. In the meantime, Paige meets Al and Eddie is beside himself the entire time, not wanting her to find out the dirty work they're doing to fund his future. Then, Paige's boss only likes Eddie, and when she delivers this news, Eddie expresses that he doesn't want to ditch his band, but she says this will benefit both of them. So he agrees and it's implied they start hooking up, never making things official. She leaves for California and he's supposed to go later for his audition and stay with her. This doesn't happen, Eddie's heist with Al lands him temporarily in jail, and over a heated phone call, things end between them. It's implied that Paige pays his bail but never speaks to him again.
- Tommy Hayes: It's debatable whether this is supposed to be Tommy H from the show, whether his last name was always Hagan or if that was a fanon thing. Given his proximity to the jocks and being bitter that Steve has changed since dating Nancy, it's supposed to be Tommy H from the show. He's extremely violent in the book, which doesn't track so much with Tommy in the show, who's more of a shit-talker lackey. This Tommy bullies Eddie for being poor, a freak, and the son of a criminal. He bullies the whole Hellfire club and beats Eddie up on two occasions, punches Ronnie (accidentally?) when she tries to protect Gareth, and puts Gareth in the hospital. He faces no repercussions because the Principal is on his side, as Tommy's family is influential and rich.
- Principal Higgins: The principal of Hawkins High. Eddie is justified for wanting to flip him off in the show. Higgins has a ton of favoritism toward the kids from well off influential families, like jocks and preppy students, and always takes their side even when Eddie (and friends) are the ones bruised and beaten. He's a Bible thumper and hates Hellfire and also hates Eddie because he's a Munson, considers him a rotten apple that poisons the bunch. He wants Eddie to drop out to rid the school of the Hellfire club. After the brawl between the jocks and Hellfire, Higgins convinces Eddie that it's his fault his friends are considered freaks and get bullied. He blackmails Eddie into dropping out by threatening to jeopardize Ronnie's scholarship to NYU. Eddie eventually comes to his senses and finds his fire again when everything falls through. He gets re-enrolled in school and turns things around by blackmailing Higgins. At this point, he knows Higgins buys drugs from Reefer Rick, and uses that information to force Higgins to let Hellfire continue and leave him and his friends alone.
- Officer Moore: A Hawkins cop who has it out for Eddie. He's described as having a blond buzz cut, a square jaw, Superman level All-American looks. He has a growing mid-forties beer gut. He pulls Eddie and Ronnie over in Eddie's van, Eddie sasses the shit out of him since apparently he pulls Eddie over a lot trying to find reasons to arrest him, just because he's a Munson. But he has to let them go.
- CJ and Toby: These are two goons that worked with Al under the same boss, Charlie Greene, one of the biggest drug kingpins in Oregon. They are transporting the truck with the drugs that Al enlists Eddie to help him rob. Eddie and Al successfully rob the truck, but CJ and Toby show up to their house days later. While holding Eddie and Al at gunpoint looking for the drugs, It's revealed that Al didn't owe money because he borrowed it, he stole it because he got greedy. Eddie was under the impression that he was saving his dad from enforcers that would come to collect the debt eventually, not helping him steal more from them. Al wasn't in prison like he told Eddie, he was living large as Charlie Greene's right hand man, never sending Eddie a dime. At this point, Eddie and Al have already sold the stolen drugs to Reefer Rick, so Al turns over the 15 grand of money to CJ and Toby. They think it's settled, but CJ decides to set the house on fire too, since Al embarrassed them with the boss. The only reason they don't kill Eddie and Al is because Officer Moore shows up, having been following Eddie. Instead, CJ shoots Officer Moore in the leg and then he and Toby flee. Eddie immediately goes to help the officer (despite hating Moore) while Al is telling Eddie to come on so they can run. Eddie feels like its their fault Moore was shot and won't leave him, Al says he didn't realize Eddie was this much of a fool. Eddie tries to get him to stay because he needs him, but Al leaves him anyway and Eddie is devastated and numb. He's arrested when cops show up.
- Jim Hopper: Hopper brings Eddie a cup of water and talks to him while he's in lockup for the night. He calls Eddie "Junior" but Eddie's too numb at that point to care. He says they know that Eddie tried to help Moore, but he's being held for arson because of the house, until he makes bail. Hopper is really trying to give Eddie a break, knowing he helped Moore, and talks a bit about Eddie's dad. He says something cryptic about knowing Al in school and how every time something went down, Al was usually at the center. Hopper does Eddie a favor and lets him use the phone in his office, where Eddie calls Paige. Hours later, Hopper tells him he made bail and that Wayne is there to get him.
- Chrissy Cunningham: Eddie remembers Chrissy from the talent show. Eddie's dad was supposed to be there, but didn't show up, meanwhile Chrissy is disappointed that her mom did show up. A lot like the show, it's minimal but Chrissy is sweet with troubled undertones. Eddie's surprised she even talks to him, but she's nice and says she'd cheer for him if his dad didn't show. Fast forward to high school, when the jocks are giving Eddie flack, Chrissy tries to get them to stop. Then they try to lie to the principal and say Eddie was bothering Chrissy. Chrissy says it's a lie but Jason quickly silences her.
- Bev: The owner of the Hideout bar. She's a very no nonsense drill sergeant kind of lady. She keeps Eddie humble, calls him Junior despite him asking her not to, always tells him to get a haircut and doesn't like his band at all, though she lets them play there as part of the exchange for Eddie working there. The stage is just some rickety wood that her late husband built. It's implied she had something to do with his death. She's strict and doesn't give anything out for free, only Al is able to charm her out of a free pitcher of beer when he's celebrating Eddie (temporarily) dropping out of school, which stuns Eddie. When Eddie quits the job chasing his California dream, she admits she'll miss their band and that's that.
- Janice: Principal Higgins secretary who equally hates Eddie and favors jocks and preppy students. She wears coke bottle glasses that magnify her eyes and has a fanatical obsession with purple.
- Stan: A junior member of Hellfire who had to sneak around his parents to go to meetings by pretending to be at algebra tutoring, as they consider D&D to be Satanic. When his parents find out, they write a letter to the school, condemning Hellfire club and saying they sent Stan to a church program to cleanse him. Higgins shows Eddie this letter to make him feel guilty and responsible.
-Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan: These girlies are mentioned in one sentence but I don't know where else to put this info. Eddie implies these are the two other hookups he had before Paige, once in grade ten and once senior year, saying that he could tell they were only doing it for the dare of getting with the freak. Though, he wasn't looking to be anybody's boyfriend. He compares them to Paige, who he feels like genuinely likes him
- Steve Harrington: He doesn't actually appear in the book but his balls get a mention so he's going on the list. The only thing to note is that Steve doesn't approve of any freshman getting beat up, to the point where the jocks do it behind his back and Jason Carver is worried about him finding out. Tommy says Steve doesn't have any balls since dating Nancy Wheeler. Eddie defends Steve's balls, saying Tommy can't talk about someone else having no balls when he gets his kicks beating up freshman.
- Will and Jonathan Byers: At the end of the book, in a record shop, Will and Jonathan walk in. Eddie recognizes Will from his missing posters and recalls the events where Will had a funeral yet somehow was found alive. Jonathan goes to the back for a certain record, and while Will is alone, Eddie watches as a few younger jocks come into the store and start hounding him, calling him zombie boy. Eddie takes up for him, goads the jocks and gets them to take it out on him, takes a baseball to the chest and they leave. Eddie tells Will that Zombie Boy is metal as shit and Jonathan thanks Eddie when he comes back. Eddie offers Jonathan weed and says Jonathan is way too offended by the question for someone with his haircut. This whole interaction solidifies Eddie's new sense of purpose, collecting and protecting sheep.
- Granny Ecker: Ronnie's grandmother. She's not a big part of the story at all but she lives in the trailer park too. She's a wooden spoon wielding grandma character. Eddie calls her Granny too and she worries about Wayne and makes Eddie bring him casseroles and stuff. it's just cute so I'm including it.
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luvtak · 2 months
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corona borealis, lfx
✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.
✧ w/c 952 <3
✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!
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His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters. 
Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky. 
His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him. 
Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away. 
Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy. 
He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there. 
“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own. 
“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,” 
“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story. 
“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”
Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking. 
His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime. 
Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity, 
“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.” 
His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being. 
Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.” 
When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper. 
The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch. 
“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy. 
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© LUVTAK 2024
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underyourbedtoday · 3 months
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Sometimes, you hate Soap. You hate how much he simply is, the way he moves, breathes, his very existence, sometimes the very sight of him drives you insane. You hate how much everyone loves him, hate how his very self seems to fill up a room in an instant, too much of a burning star in the dark of space. Sometimes you wish you had never met him, never loved him, had go on to be an old spinster with a million rabid little cats because it would have been better than the alternative.
Loving him, that is. Loving him the way that flowers love the sun, loving him how lungs love air, how hearts beat endlessly until they no longer can, how icarus had loved his crafted wings as he soared through he air only to come crashing down when it became too much.
To love Johnny is to love a star toward the end of its life, its death inevitable and rotted in your mouth, leaving a sick taste of those roots like the worst kind of poison. Maybe that had been why you loved him though. Maybe it was because of just how beautiful Johnny was that you thought you might be an exception to the rule, to the story, to life.
But of course you weren't.
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powderblueblood · 2 days
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NO SLEEP TILL - a runaway eddie au
summary sticking around town after the queen of hawkins high dies in your trailer is a fool's game. anyone could tell you that. but eddie munson's making a point of it; shaving off the excess. a canon divergent season 4 runaway eddie au with elements from flight of icarus. word count 1.1k warnings none, only that this is mostly an experiment.
Can you shut up and tell the story already?
It starts with a shedding. 
A snip, snip, snip and all recognition falling away under the dinge of a green-lit gas station bathroom. The acrid smell of piss burns through the stall, the kind that’s baked in and gets curdled by the heat. No bleach can cut through it. The ghosts of more’n three shakes and you’re playin’ with yourself rise when it gets above a certain temperature.
And it’s hot. Uncharacteristically so, for spring break. 
Snip. The last curling rat tail falls to the floor and he releases his breath. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it. 
Looking at himself, shorn, his eyes water. Not from the smell. 
He cranes his neck to the left, to the right. Tufts of hair stick up from his skull like he’s just shoved a fork into a socket. 
He wishes he’d thought of that instead. But.
A sound chokes up the column of his throat as he grips the sink’s edge, ringed fingers slipping on grime. He allows himself to the count of ten. 
‘To the count of ten, and then we dust ourselves off and get back at ‘em!’ His mother’s voice. Embedded in the recesses of his brain, this high rasp he’s never stopped harkening back to. It’s almost fourteen years since he’s last heard it. ‘There’s always a good reason to keep going.’
True. There’s always a reason to keep going; it doesn’t even have to be good.
He doesn’t have time to get all vitriolic about what’s been snatched from him. Not yet, anyhow. 
He’s still all hot with panic, even though it’s been hours since he left the trailer park. Gained a little clarity since then. 
Not much, but enough to shoplift a pair of scissors.
He tosses the hair in the sink into the maw of the shitcaked cistern and tears open a pack of disposable razors with his teeth. 
The red line he draws on the map squiggles up and shoulders out. A straight shot from where he sits across the state of Pennsylvania to New York City, a bullet out the nose of a rifle. He intends to make it there just as fast. 
He couldn't sleep if he wanted to. 
Every time his eyes fall shut, it’s a clear vision of her. Suspended in midair, sneakers hovering above the stained rug of the trailer. The lights flipping out, making him wonder if he wasn’t tripping out. The snap of her jaw to a crude angle, one that it can’t come back from. 
He wasn’t tripping out. He knows what he saw. Her skull impacted on itself. The sound of her tongue squelching as she choked on it. 
Like something was inside her. Tearing her apart.
He knows what he saw.
Doesn’t he?
Eddie groans as his stomach lurches. His hands tighten on the wheel. He can’t afford to spit up any more bile, not tonight. 
No time. No sleep. 
A crumpled envelope sits on the dashboard of the van. 
A letter he never responded to, because it’s easier to forget people when they’re not right there, bumming rides from you. 
A return address in Brooklyn. 
The moment the phone rings, she knows something is wrong. It gets yanked up in her gut, some feeling she’s tried to stamp down because she’s a grown up now and she can’t be caught mourning sandbox shit. 
The competitive pace of her life doesn’t allow for it. She doesn’t have room in her schedule for homesickness like that. Can’t cram it in between classes and looking for an internship at a law firm that can overlook her humble beginnings. 
This marks the second year she’s been away from home for spring break. It was harder to fill the gap the first time around, and to talk her grandmother down, but she made good use of being a country mouse in the big city. Found some bars and libraries and bookstores she’s kept as favorites. 
Tried not to think about how she was so bummed out that she was forced to enjoy them alone. And failed. 
She wrote a letter, a long one, in a dinky dyke bar on St Mark’s Place which was all strung up with Christmas lights. She’d obviously flinched when she heard it called a ‘dyke bar’--so open and proud like that. It wasn’t like when people flung the d-word around where she was from. It wasn’t derogatory; just a descriptor. Toothless, in the mouth of a chick with a shorn head that had told her so. Almost friendly. She told her that her name was Tina, too. 
“I knew a Tina,” she’d nervously said, plucking at the label of her beer bottle, “She was captain of the cheerleading squad. At my high school.”
Tina sniffed a laugh. “You’re a long way from home, ain’t ya?”
About a ten hour drive. 
She got an impulse to write after two Mai Tais and another beer and a half. Dug a copy of The Dark Tower out of her backpack and started tearing out the flyleaves.
Tina let her borrow a pen and she scrawled and scrawled away in that half-light, letter becoming more illegible the drunker she got. 
She remembered that she’d written this, in closing–
‘In closing, I think you’re a fucking piece of shit stubborn asshole. A naive moron who’d step on his own uncle’s neck for an opportunity that looked shiny enough. Fuck you, and fuck California, and I can’t believe you’d fucking do this to me after everything and not even call or anything. I think you’re just like your dad. 
If you ever need a place to stay, you can’t come here.
But if you show up, there’s nothing I can do about it, I guess.’
Weeks later, gripping onto a pole on a crowded subway train, she got a chill down the spine that she was sure meant the letter had made it to Indiana. 
He never wrote back. Probably for the better. 
The same chill pulls in her gut when the phone trills at 6:30 in the morning. The phantom umbilical cord. 
She’s up, because she’s become all regimented now. Riding on a scholarship will do that to you. 
She picks up the slippery seashell pink handset so as not to wake her roommates, because they hate her enough already. 
Though, she really nearly doesn’t. Because she’s scared.
Silence on the line.
“What happened?”
“Ronnie…”
“Wayne? What happened?”
“He’s gone.”
Her whole throat constricts, her body fighting against whatever those words mean. Thoughts start running at hyperspeed– absolutely not, there’s no way, no possible way, I would know. I would know. It’s not that. 
“Whaddayou mean, gone?”
“Can’t find him anywhere.” The beat Wayne leaves makes her realize there’s cold sweat icing her brow. “But I found something else. Something bad.”
Not gone as in dead. Gone as in missing.
REBLOGS AND COMMENTS KEEP THE FIC ALIVE. lmk if you enjoyed this because i may continue to write it extremely non-linearly! as an exercise in examining friendships, paranoia and hanging out with eddie and ronnie.
81 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 5 months
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Mercy-one
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC
Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.
Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.
Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.
Authors Notes: Here we go! Now this is an AU but I will keep things true to life with Bad Omens and Noah as possible! Also, this is NOT a reader insert fic. I decided to create a character for this.
Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch
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LETHIA
The wind whipped widely through my hair, smacking me in the face, as my limbs thrashed around with such force I cringed in pain. I could see the clouds out of the corner of my eyes as I fell through them, with no sense of comfort protecting me. I choked on a sob when I noticed parts of my long, golden, hair was being singed from the rate of the fall. I held my hands in front of my face to watch in horror as the once short nails grew in length and darkness. 
“Wh-what?” 
How did it get like this? All because I chose to follow someone else instead of the almighty King? How was that fair? I’d been loyal since creation, one of his most loyal servants, but the second I thought of something different than the divine plan, He cast me away. 
“Leth, follow me to the ends of the darkness. For we can create our own Kingdom and rule.” 
My eyes screwed shut at the familiar voice as my throat burned with the thought of him. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was close by, surely he had to be. I was thrown from the Kingdom first, Lucifer not far behind. 
The air around me began to thicken, grasping around my throat with such force, that I clawed there with my newly fresh nails. Blood dripped from the wounds but none of that mattered to me; I simply stared up towards the sky where my former home disappeared through the clouds. I could try and climb my way back, as far as my wings would allow. But I knew, like Icarus, if I climbed too high to the sun, I’d fall into the unknown jungle below. 
Icarus was a fool. 
My ears rang loudly from the sudden change in altitude and I looked towards the left, almost crying out when I took in the most recent alter to my appearance. Bright wings that mirrored the colors of the clouds surrounding me were no longer pure. No, they were dark with the tellings of my betrayal. 
“My King, forgive me!” I cried out seconds before my body fell to the hard soil below; darkness overtaking my vision.
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NOAH
Slamming the car door shut with a long sigh,  I walked from the street, up to my house. I took in the variety of cars, realizing that one of the guys must have invited a few people over tonight. Usually, I never minded when we had small get-togethers, but tonight I did mind. It wasn’t anything anyone in particular did, my mind was just filled with the same dream I’d had the last seven nights in a row. 
Black feathers. Even darker hair. Cream-colored skin. And vibrant red eyes. 
At first, I chalked it up to being a random dream but as the nights progressed, the dream continued with the same figure. 
One night they were sitting on the edge of my bed. The following night, they were perched on top of the roof of my house, watching the street below. Last night, the figure was in bed with me as my lips trailed over the curvaceous lumps of her breasts. 
I ran a hand over my face as I neared the front door, taking a deep and steady breath. I thought about asking my therapist about these dreams but now that they were getting more intimate, I decided against it.
“It's just a dream, Noah,” I told myself while my hand reached for the door. 
A groan halted my movements and I turned swiftly on my heels back towards the driveway. But all I heard was silence; besides the loud music coming from inside the house. 
Shrugging, I took one final step towards the threshold until a groan sounded again, only this time louder. It sounded as if a large bird fell from the tree hanging overhead, feathers fluttering in the air.  I dropped my bag on the front porch before taking the steps back down two at a time towards where I heard the groans of pain; in between Jesse’s and Orie’s cars parked in the driveway. 
“Fuck,” I cursed seeing the crumbled body. 
Head snapped to the side, dark tendrils of hair covering her face, and an arm draped over her midsection. I winced as I saw the contortment of it, knowing that it had to be broken. 
Where the hell did she come from? 
There was a sudden surge that spread from my heart to every vein inside of me; flowing through in shocking waves. I couldn’t place it but seeing this figure in front of me, there was something so familiar about it; her. A painful groan fell from her lips and I breathed in relief, almost forgetting to check if she was alive. I’d been so entranced in her familiarity. 
Gently scooping the body up into my arms, the dark hairs fell away from her face and I sucked in a breath when I noticed there were fresh cut marks along her cheek, and blood dripping from her ears. I rushed her inside, gaining stares from my roommates, who immediately stopped the music. 
“What the fuck?” Orie’s voice was raised. 
I shook my head while setting her on the couch in our living room. “I don’t know, man.”
Our house was packed with random faces; some I recognized, others I didn’t. I knew there was a party tonight but suddenly, I wanted everyone that didn’t live here out. 
Folio, who noticed my expression, waved a finger in the air. “Alright, I think it’s time to end this party. Thanks for coming, everyone!” 
Pretty quickly, everyone who didn’t live there or weren’t part of Bad Omens left the house. 
“Where did you find her?” Nick asked.
I hesitated. “That’s the thing. I found her lying broken in the driveway.”
“The driveway?” Jolly gasped. “How long had she been out there?” 
I shrugged while brushing away the stray hairs from her face, hearing a soft but painful breath falling from her dry, cracked lips. My eyes grazed down the line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts that were barely covered by the tattered black shirt; it looked as if it was burned off. I tossed a blanket over her to help cover her modesty. 
Something glinted in my vision and I looked back at her neck to see a golden chain hanging loosely between the valley of her breasts. My heart dropped to my stomach as the reality slammed into me. 
I’ve seen this chain before; in my dreams. My lips tasted that chain in my dreams. 
My hands shook at my side as a shaky breath escaped from my throat and Jolly called my name. 
“Hm, what?” I turned to look at him. 
He ran a hand through his hair. “Should we call the police? She looks like she’s been attacked.” 
“No,” I said a little too suddenly. “She just needs a place to rest. We don’t know what happened. I’ll ask when she wakes up.” 
I slowly sunk into the chair across from the couch, resting my elbows on my knees, watching the rise and fall of her chest to make sure she was still breathing. 
Jesse stared down at her from behind the couch and let out a low whistle. “It’s a miracle that she’s even breathing right now. We should probably wrap her arm. It could be broken.” 
Just then, Michael returned with our first aid kit and handed it to me. I took it with a small smile and started rummaging through it to look for the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls. The least I could do while she slept was clean the wounds on her face. 
The softness of her face twisted as the sting of peroxide sunk deep within her wounds and when a whimper fell from her lips, my cock twitched in my jeans. Images of her lying spread wide in my bed for me flashed in my mind and I did my best to push them to the back of my brain. 
“How did she end up in the driveway? Looking like this?” Orie asked as he finished wrapping up her arm. 
“I don’t know,” I sighed while sitting back in my chair, eyes still trained on her. “With how I found her, it looks like she fell from somewhere.”
Jolly shook his head as he sat on the armrest of the couch, also watching the stranger. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
All seven of us stood around the body laying on the couch, wondering and watching to see if she would wake. 
“Maybe she’s an angel,” Jesse snorted, trying to ease the sudden tension. 
“Angels don’t exist,” my eyes snapped up towards him. 
Jesse held his hands up. “It’s a joke, Noah. But you have to admit it’s a little weird.” 
I ran a hand over my jaw and nodded. “I know. I couldn’t leave her out there, though. Once she wakes up, I’ll take her wherever she wants.”
“Luce,” the woman croaked out, head turning towards the side. 
Her voice rang out in song, echoing throughout the house, and my heart rose in my throat hearing how eternal it sounded. I barely knew anything about her but I couldn’t ignore the way my soul felt connected to her. Maybe it was because of seeing this form in my dreams or fate that I found her in my driveway, almost as if I was destined to help her. 
“What did she say?” Nick questioned. 
 Folio shrugged while leaning over her. “Luce? Maybe that’s her name?” 
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and with one swift movement, the woman had her legs wrapped around Folio’s midsection and him pinned to the ground. Her good forearm was pressed deep into his neck while he lay frozen underneath her.  All of us were on our feet but none made a move to stop her, not knowing if it would ultimately help or make things worse. 
“Who are you?” 
The venom in her voice was cold as ice. 
“Ni-Nick,” Folio choked out. 
The woman tilted her head towards him. “Where am I?” 
Taking a tentative step towards her, I placed a soft hand on her shoulder. “I found you outside.” 
It was as if my touch meant nothing to her, eyes still burning deep into Folio. It wasn’t until I spoke again that she finally noticed I was touching her. 
“You’re hurt. I brought you inside to help you.” 
Before I could register what happened, I felt myself being pinned up against the front door, fiery red eyes staring deep into my soul. With all the doubt that plagued my mind the last hour as I watched her sleep on the couch, I tried to tell myself that I didn’t know who she was. It was all a coincidence that parts of her reminded me of the figure I dreamed of.
But the moment I saw those bright red eyes, I knew that all the doubt was wrong. This was the same woman I dreamed of the last seven nights. 
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LETHIA
With my nails digging into the fresh skin of the man in front of me, I assessed every inch of his face. The brown eyes widened in slight horror when my nails dug deeper and I took in the way his lips parted, breaths coming out broken. His long hair was held back by a clip but strands still fell into his face and I cocked my head to the side when I realized something drastic. 
Well, a few things. 
First, I couldn’t feel my hand around this man's throat. I squeezed harder, my face twitching in anger, when I still couldn’t feel his skin underneath my grasp. I expected to feel the erratic thrum of his pulse or his Adam's apple dip low as he swallowed. 
Instead, I felt nothing. 
No. It couldn’t be. 
I’ve heard tales of this happening to the Fallens but I never believed it to be true.  An old folks tale the other Archangels discussed over a cup of wine. 
My eyes blinked as I slowly removed my hand from the man’s throat, fingers shaking with the realization. The dark nails mocked me for my failure, scolding me for taking the darkness over the light. 
The second thing I realized? I’ve seen this face before. Moments before I fell, it flashed in my mind like a photograph, every fucking detail. The long brown hair, bright brown eyes to match, the freckles that littered over his nose and cheeks, the tattoo that wrapped around his throat where my fingers were moments before; a snake, apples, and hands. 
How metaphorical. 
“What’s going on with me?” I muttered bringing my hand to my chest, noticing it was wrapped in some kind of material. 
“You hurt your arm, we wrapped it for you,” a different voice spoke. 
My head snapped to the left, seeing another man slowly approach me. His voice sounded different than the others and I narrowed my eyes at him. 
“You’re not from around here,” I noted. 
A snort sounded from behind me causing me to whirl my body towards it, seeing yet another strange man staring at me. 
“Not from around here? Who talks like that?” 
Someone smacked him in the chest. “Michael, don’t be an asshole.” 
“I’m just saying, Nick. She wakes up in our home and attacks two of our friends. Are we supposed to allow that? We don’t even know her fucking name.” 
My tongue clicked against my teeth. “Lethia.” 
Various sets of eyes stared at me until the man who had an attitude spoke.; Michael. 
“I’m sorry, what?”
“My name-,” I spoke slowly. “-Is Lethia.”
Michael snorted. “Well, Lethia, where the hell did you come from?” 
Giving him a wave of my hand, I decided it wasn’t worth answering that question only because none of these men deserve to know.
“Who’s Luce?” 
I snapped my eyes towards the man I had pinned against the door, heart stuttering in my chest. “Excuse me?” 
He rubbed at the fresh red marks on his neck. “You said it in your sleep.” 
Lucifer. 
I licked my lips, widely shaking my head. “I need to leave.” 
A soft voice called to me. “We can take you back home.”
This man had a buzzed head and a beard. “Although, you should get those injuries checked out.” 
“I’ll heal,” I answered honestly.
Lethia, come to me.
I gazed around the room to see if that voice belonged to any of the seven of them although I knew it didn’t. I knew exactly who uttered those words. 
“I have to go.” 
The man from my vision stood tall against the door, not allowing me to leave. My jaw ticked with anger and I motioned behind him. 
“Move.” 
His brow raised. “That’s a funny way of saying thank you for saving your life.” 
“Thank you?” I chuckled darkly. “You simply did nothing for me except keep me prisoner in this home.” 
“Prisoner?” It was his turn to chuckle. “I fucking found you in my driveway, broken and bruised. The least you can do is tell us what the hell happened!”
They’ll never understand. Mere mortals never did. 
I might not understand where I was but I knew mortals when I saw one. Their smell was different than angels; some were stronger than others. Except for the man blocking my way out. It was different, his aura, and I didn’t want to admit it but it drew me into him. There had to be a reason why I saw him mere seconds before I fell from the Kingdom. 
The two of us were unmoving, not wanting to break first, and one of the men must have felt the tension because one gently stepped between us; the one that sounded different from the rest.
“Noah, let her go.” 
Something fluttered in my stomach and I nearly shook with the unknown feeling. Never in my life had I felt something like this, even during my time with Lucifer. But with this mortal, Noah, it was entirely something new and it scared me to the depths of hell. 
Noah scrunched his face with anger but eventually stepped to the side, allowing me to leave. 
“Thank you,” I mocked with a slight curl to my lip; more like a snarl. 
After two steps toward the door, I froze when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eyes. Titling my head towards the glass, my reflection stared back at me and I gasped at what I saw. 
Short black hair, black ink covering almost every inch of skin across my shoulders and arms, my shirt barely hanging one by a thread, and what shocked me the most were my eyes; crimson red, not the vibrant violet. 
“No, it can’t be,” I brought my shaking hand to my mouth. 
Suddenly,  an ear-piercing ringing dug deep in my ears and I brought my hands to them, screwing my eyes shut. My head throbbed in pain as if someone was scratching their claws there. With one eye open, I noticed Michael held some kind of device in his hand. 
“Wh-what is that dreaded noise?” I stuttered. 
“A phone? Fuck, how hard did you hit your head?” 
A what? 
When the ringing stopped, I stood taller and for the first time, took in my surroundings. Everything in this home looked different than how we lived in the Kingdom. While we had advantaged technology, we simply didn’t have things of this nature. 
“None of this makes sense,” I whispered to myself before my eyes landed on a small device on a table. 
October 12, 2021. 
I nearly stumbled on my feet when everything began to click into place. Someone during my fall, I landed in a time that hadn’t existed yet. 
Noah could tell something was off because he turned towards me, a frown pulling at his lips. “Are you alright?” 
Without saying another word, I left in such haste, I hadn’t realized what I left behind in my wake. 
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NOAH
My eyes stared at the space in front of me, the door wide open as it let in the cool night air. Those red eyes haunted me in Lethai’s wake and my skin crawled when an old dream crept back into my consciousness. 
I lay in my bed, bare for her to see, Lethia’s tongue traced down my chest and then stomach to brush across my navel. I gripped her dark hair, wrapping it around my fingers to guide her head farther down. My cock throbbed with such an ache, I was sure it wouldn’t last. Beads of precum slipped from the slit and Lethia’s tongue danced around it, tasting me. 
“Fuck,” I cursed as my eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy. 
“Look at me, Noah.” 
My eyes snapped open at Lethia’s firm tone and felt my heart stop dead in my chest; her eyes were glowing red. 
“Noah!” 
Breaking free from my trance, I gazed over to Orie. “Did you say something?” 
“We did all we could, man. There’s no use dwelling on it.” 
He patted my shoulder before they all dispersed into their sections of the house. But not me, I remained frozen in my spot, still staring at the vast darkness past the threshold. There was something just outside the realm of that darkness that caught my eye, it fluttered in the wind until it fell to the concrete just outside the door. 
With furrowed brows, I bent low to pick it up, analyzing it with curious eyes. It was a black feather, at least twelve inches in length, and the softness of it was something I’d never felt before. 
“Who are you, Lethia?” I murmured to myself, holding the feather close to my chest.
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dancingbabya-notes · 1 year
Text
Your scars are beautiful
<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->
Everyone gains scars; it's a part of life, no one is immune to that. From small ones that are barely noticeable to ones that signify or are a reminder of a very strong memory. A badge of honor, a reminder of a mistake, luck that no one else was harmed, or a bad memory. (PS the only reason I wrote this is because the most recent chapters I've read are rotting my brain and I sometimes think a little too hard about my own scars)
Characters: Todoroki, Mirio, Midoriya, Amajiki, Bakugo, Kirishima, Kaminari, Shinso, Shoji
Spoiler warning: there are spoilers for the bnha/MHA manga in Shoji’s part so if you don’t want that please don’t bother reading.
Tw: trauma, mention of falling from extreme heights, mentions of child abuse, mentions of abuse, mention of self harm, 
<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->
Todoroki
Sometimes you would walk into your shared room with Shoto, he looks at his face so intently in the mirror. But trying to imagine him without the burn scar on his face was difficult. That was your only image of him since school. Today he seemed to be intently picking at the skin around the old scar.
Walking up behind him you put his hands down so they sat in his lap as you hug him tightly. “Sho, Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He states, his low voice not expressing much emotion but for some reason you just knew.
“Do you wanna touch my scar?” You ask, he blinked.
You were very protective of your own scars, it wasn’t because it was an old scar. It wasn’t because of anything sad, it was because you went too far. Like Icarus you flew too close to the sun and lost your wings. When it happened you remember him reaching for you and the pain in his eyes.
“Are you sure, my love?” He looks at you in the mirror.
“Of course, you always tell me you find comfort when I touch your scar,” you smile.
“No,” he shakes his head, his hand sitting comfortably in yours. “Just sitting with me right now is fine.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“It’s an old story.”
“That doesn’t mean it can stir new feelings,” you offer, giving him a slight squeeze.
Shoto thinks for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as time seemed to stretch before he found the right words. “I know now…why my mother felt the way she did. But I can’t… help but feel I had been too hasty in forgiving her. Or… that I’m wrong for not forgiving… my father.”
You try to think of a good thing to say but you weren’t sure if your words would bring him solace or pester the pain more. “I think you need to talk to them again. While it may open old bleeding wounds I feel telling them how you’re feeling might help. If you want I can sit with you when you do?”
“No, I feel it will only cause me unnecessary pain,” he sighs.
“But emotional pain can come up later,” you mumble then to realize. “Sho, are you worried that we will be bad parents to our children?”
“Yes,” he pulls on your hand a bit, stretching it a bit beyond to position that was slowly making pins and needles prick at your skin.
“No one’s perfect, but all we can do is try our best and make up for the mistakes we make. If you want when we start a family we can go to counseling,” you suggest. “That way we can get a second option, you might also get some closure with the pain you feel regarding your parents.”
Shoto pulls you around to face him, kind of sitting his lap but with his arms around you instead of you’re around him. You smile as he buries his face into your hoodie.
“You always seem to know what to say my love.”
Kirishima
“Babe?”
Flinching you quickly roll your pant leg back down. It was moments like these where you wish the mirror didn’t make you feel so small.
“There you are,” Eijiro smiles as he pulls you into a hug. “I thought you were asleep or something.”
“I was just antsy,” you mumble. “Sorry I should have said I was in here.”
He looks at you and he can tell. “Your scars are making you anxious, aren’t they?”
You nod.
He starts peppering your face in kisses. “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t something we could help. Nurse didn’t know.”
Nurse. Without her you didn’t want to know what would have happened to you. Your hero career would have ended that day. Even the short month to recuperate wasn’t enough time, you still had nightmares, waking up screaming, and the phantom pains. The reminder was the scars. Why couldn’t you move past this?
“I know.”
Eijiro picks you up and sits on the bed with you in his arms. He kissed your face, but you could tell where he was kissing. He had a purpose. Your body was littered with scars, the proof of your life and the things you’ve dealt with. The thin one just above your eye was from when your brother spent a day drawing portals through the house and you had fallen through one out into the tree. The smooth one by your ear from a surgery that had been found to be unnecessary: the hospital had mixed up your chart with another child patient, your mom was not enthused.
The one under your eye from when you accidentally cut your face, having thought you put the exact blade down, you were lucky you didn’t get your eye. He brings your hands up and he kisses your fingers, the paper thin cuts you’d gotten from learning how to cook and other craft related accidents. A small giggle escapes as he looks you in the eye for a moment.
“You don’t have to do this,” you smile.
“But I want to.”
With each kiss you were reminded of the origin of the scar. Your left hand: a wet rock from the river by the summer house. Your right wrist: the bracelet you wore during a spontaneous rescue during second year. Your shoulders: the burns from an old mission. Your stomach: an inconsolable attacker. Every memory was fine until he kissed your legs. The perfect lined scars that cut straight accords your knees.
Your breath shook a bit as the tears started. You were so scared. Plenty of other times you’d been scared but when you couldn’t feel your feet or toes, or even just the pain, were the most terrifying two minutes of your life.
His hands touched the scar and you flinched. “I know that I’m lucky. So many people pity me now.”
“Who cares what they feel about your scars,” your boyfriend pulls you back into his lap, peppering the top of your head and your forehead with kisses. “What matters is you are here, you are safe, and the pain you feel will disappear. It will fade into a bad memory.”
“I know. But what if-
“Y/n, if anything had happened we would have figured it out. Okay?”
You nod. “Thank you Eiji.”
Midoriya
When you see Midoriya’s scars, the ones on his hands, his arms, anywhere you wonder, would it have been better if you realized and accepted your second quirk sooner. You had grown used to using the regenerative ability given to you by the monster that forced your creation. Body torn to shreds over and over again, everyone always talked about how lucky you were. But were you?
You could lose a finger and if you consume enough toxins you could grow it back without worry. Your body showed no signs of scarring, well not visible at first glance. You had one scar. It was small and you just knew it was a part of you now.
“Cookie? Is there something on me? Don’t tell me there’s another water-
“No, you’re fine.” You shake your head and you smile looking at your boyfriend. “Have I ever mentioned that you’re beautiful?”
Midoriya didn’t seem to know what to say, his jaw hung open as he quickly covered his mouth and turned away. You chuckle slowly breaking into a laugh as he blushes so hard you could see it on his back from his shoulders.
“Cookie,” he whines and you slowly try to catch your breath.
Standing up you smile before taking his hand and kissing the first scar you’d ever seen on him. “It’s true. I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
You weren’t sure what it was but he pulled you close to him before kissing the top of your left ear. Which made you embarrassed, the only imperfection you had. A slight notch in the top of your ear. Like someone had cut a slice of it out. At the time you must have been no older than three or four, the faint memory of pain and then it ending.
“I think you are far more beautiful than I am,” he smiles before you push him away.
“Put on a fucking shirt,” you scold.
Mirio
“Sunshine, are you okay you’re shaking?”
Putting the pot down you think. “I’m fine though. Huh?”
Turning your. Hands over and over you did notice a slight shake, but that was normal right? Frowning it was odd when old memories would be triggered.
“Ah, I know what’s wrong.” You chuckle nervously. “I remembered when my mom had a hard time moving the pot to the table because she didn’t want us to burn our hands on the plates.”
Mirio was a bit confused. “Why did you think about that?”
You flex your wings and shift the feathers to the side a bit to show the one spot where only short feathers grew, it didn’t impair  your flying and you were surprised you could even fly at this age. “She dropped the pot, my dad was so angry he hit her and got me in the crossfire.”
Though you had a light hearted smile on your face Mirio frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that Sunshine.”
You wave your hand dismissively. “If I hadn’t witnessed that I’m sure you and I would have never met. Don’t apologize, it made me think that I hope my mom is in a better place, and I will be very very careful who I marry if I ever do.”
Mirio had thought much about how you’d grown up, it was partially because you never talked about it. He didn’t want to pry usually but he did want to know as much as you were comfortable sharing.
“How do you feel about scars anyway?” You ask.
“They’re proof we live,” he smiles before brushing his hand against your feathers.
You shriek, pulling away quickly and stumbling forward. Groaning you clutch your side, having effectively slammed your entire weight into the corner of the counter.
“A warning,” you gasp. “Please, my feathers are sensitive.”
“R-right.”
Shaking your head you start laughing only to be paused from the pain shooting up your body.
Amajiki
Your partner watches intently as you work. He always did this, because he said it made him feel better. Watching you work when he had nothing to do. Somewhere along the way of learning you had been given the task to create new things for uniform fabrics. He remembered how when you both met and you made him something only for him to learn how your quirk actually worked.
Your blood infused with fabrics could change them drastically. A fabric that couldn’t be cut with most known blades unless you bled on it. A super stretchy fabric that didn’t wear easily if at all, water resistant fabric, changing a fabric to be flame retardant. Your quirk was virtually limitless if you had drawn enough blood.
“Tamaki? You’re staring pretty hard right now, did I mess up the pattern somewhere?” You pause a bit confused as you look over the piece.
Chuckling a big he shakes his head. “I just thought you looked beautiful.”
Okay now you messed up, quickly switching off the machine you felt yourself gradually melt to the floor. “What did I do to deserve someone as kind as you?”
“N-no I’m the lucky one,” he argues.
“I’m not beautiful and you know that, all these scars from trying to figure out how to use my quirk.” You laugh jokingly.
But Tamaki grabs your hands tightly. “You are beautiful, scars and all.”
You couldn’t help but smile, it was a stupid smile that one only makes when they’re drunk on love. “You’re beautiful too Tamaki. As beautiful as the moon.”
His face quickly reddens, but he did have enough sense to pick you up off the floor. Your work space was a workplace hazard in more ways than one.
“Don’t ever say your scars aren’t beautiful, without your abilities some many more people would be in danger,” he huffs, his ears burning from his embarrassment from your earlier comment.
“Mm, I’ll try.”
Bakugo
Katsuki hardly cared about his scars. He took care of his body and as long as he could do his job as a hero who cared what he looked like. But usually he’d skim over his scars when getting changed and a recent exchange made him angry seeing his scars.
You were working like usual, heroes were still plentiful but the job was safe. Your hero costume featured a mask to shield your face from others. Only he and a few trusted people ever saw your face without the mask. So during the recent publicity event when someone chastised and scolded you for your scar Katsuki had to be held back.
“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” you had said, but you still cried yourself to sleep in his arms.
It was a scar that left you permanently inhibited, taking one eye with it. After all the healing you’d gone through and everything one person’s comment could still bring you down.
“Tsuki? Are you okay?” You ask, crossing your arms.
He scoffs. “I’m fine.”
“Tomorrow is the gala right?”
“Mm.”
“Would you be mad if I said I’d rather stay home?”
Why? He didn’t want to go, you didn’t, might as well.
“Then we don’t have to go.” He shakes the wrinkles out of his shirt before folding it.
You pause. “What?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
“I never said you did, are you sure we can just-
Katsuki stops folding the clothes and faces you. “I’m tired, so are you. Plus, you need a break from your mask. Whose fucking idea was it for it to be so tight to your face? Can’t even fucking breathe properly in that damn thing.”
You blink. “Wait, do you think I’m upset about what that person said?”
He narrows his eyes.
“Katsuki, seriously? I’ve had this scar since I was like five. Sure as shit ain’t pretty, but someone who doesn’t matter to me isn’t gonna make me upset.” You laugh. “If this hadn’t happened to me I would have never learned how to feel around for water and sense things with it.”
He smirks, pulling you into a hug. “Damn right. But we’re still not going to the gala.”
“Don’t wanna wear a tie?”
He didn’t answer you.
Kaminari
When you got married to Denki the first thing he did was make you cry. Because for some reason that was shut what he did. At your wedding in front of all your friends. Were you drunk? No. Had it been a long day? Yes. But somehow it was even more memorable.
Instead of a traditional or western “wedding” you both decided a small get together for family and friends would be so much better, on the condition your parents even showed up. As you looked at the scar that you both shared across your arms you couldn’t help but giggle.
“What are you looking at bumblebee?” He asked and his voice seemed to fall. “Oh.”
For Kaminari it held a different meaning. You were always so careful, it came with the territory of being a support item creator especially with a quirk like yours. Telekinesis could be powerful and used in many different ways but you used it both as a crutch and a tool to protect yourself. So when he saw that his mistake blemished your skin he thought “I just vowed to protect her and got her hurt.”
“I feel like it’s beautiful. Luckily Yoko could heal it up,” you smile brushing your fingers on your own scar.
“I’m sorry.”
You frown. “I like this scar. It’s not the first one I’ve ever gotten but it’s ours.”
“I didn’t know that knives could split like that if the wrong pressure is placed on it.”  He mumbles.
“It’ll be a good teaching moment for when this one gets older.” You coo brushing the hair from the child’s eye. “I’m sure Teru will think it’s funny how his parents share a scar. Though I think the story of how we met  will top that.”
“I guess you’re right. But I’m still sorry,” Kaminari pouts.
“You have more than made up for it, my overpowered pikachu.” You grab him by the face and squeeze it a bit before kissing him.
“Do you think Teru will get scars?”
“As he gets older yeah,” you nod, looking at the baby again.
“You’re happy with me right y/n?” Denki squeezes your scarred hand with his own.
“Of course I am. Accidental exploding knife and all. I think that made our wedding more memorable for me,” you chuckle. “I feel like it was my fault.”
“No, you can’t do anything wrong.”
Shinso
You smile as you finish giving the kitten a bath. Fostering the stray cats so they could be taken care of or at least fixed was probably one of the few things you were glad your house could accommodate. Which made you think about the first time things like this happened. Trying to help a stray dog which resulted in a nasty bite as a child. But regardless you got the dog to safety. Your mom wasn’t all that happy about the bite.
“Hey puddin,” you smile as the older cat rubs against your face. “You know where to leave your gifts. Hitoshi will be coming over tonight.”
You giggle thinking about the first time you met him. Helping out at your parents' rescue center Shinso Hitoshi came in with his arms and face bleeding as the cat tried to free itself of his hold. You damn near panicked because of it. Even laughing with him as you patched him up.
“Look we match.” He joked showing his own bite mark wound.
As he walked in you held the now dry kitten, purring snatched the kitten from you and started taking care of it herself.
“Okay mama, looks like my job is done.” You roll your eyes about to wash your hands.
“Was there any trouble?” Hitoshi asks puttting the groceries down.
“No, I just thought about how I met you.” You hum.
Hitoshi thinks for a moment and nods. “Oh, well I’m glad we match. Doing stuff like this would be hard otherwise.”
You look at the scars you both bear, if not for these you might never have met your best friend.
Shoji
When you met Shoji you had never expected it to be through your quirk. The ability to walk through people’s dreams and exist in that separate space. He’s much taller than you so even if your eyes weren’t glued to the floor you wouldn’t have usually made eye contact with him. Once you spent more time with him you had wondered about the mask why he wore it, but in fear of prying you kept your questions to yourself.
You’d always lived in the city you read about the way heteromorphs were treated in rural areas so seeing it first hand through a nightmare of his. Made you hurt. People who thought they were better than others hurt innocent people, it made you angry. But as he lays in your lap sleeping after a long day of hero work you keep your tears at bay.
“Why is this coming to mind now?” You mumble.
Shoji stirs in his sleep, and you bring your hand to his hair, rubbing his head much like how he did for you when you apologized for your inability to control your own quirk. His scars weren’t what made him, and you were glad at least he could come to terms with it. But the people who cared for him— like you. Will probably always feel pain. Leaning down, you kiss him and he chuckles.
“Are you crying again?”
You sniffle trying to make your voice normal. “No.”
“It’s in the past, things are slow to go but there’s been change since we were in school.” Shoji yawns a bit before sitting up. “Aside from thinking about the past, what are you thinking?”
“How beautiful you are,” you hum, stretching up a bit you cradle his face in your free hand. “Because it takes a lot to be this beautiful.”
He kisses the inside of your hand. “Only you say things like this.”
“And you know that I mean them. Just hold me back after counting to three if anyone dares say anything.” You clock your tongue.
“Hmm, I’ll give you five seconds.”
“Truly kind indeed to couple with your beauty,” you giggle, bowing your head a bit. “I am not worthy.”
But he didn’t laugh this time, instead he pulled you into his lap and just held you there. He does take your cup away from you.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking coffee after five, stardust?” He frowns at the liquid and you avert your gaze.
“It’s decaf.” You lie.
He smells the cup and puts it on the coffee table before locking you in his hold. “I believe that’s enough ‘not coffee’ for one evening.”
Leaning back on his chest and looking up at him you still smile. “While your scars come from a bad memory I hope since they’ve healed you have a million more to make the bad seem insignificant. Plus I meant it when I said you’re beautiful.”
It was his turn to hold your face in one of his hands. “I know stardust. I know.”
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hyacinthsdiamonds · 1 year
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You are born sixteen days apart. He has never known the world without you in it.
Neither of you remember meeting for the first time. Neither of you can remember a time where you did not know the other. You assume you met at a racetrack as anywhere else would feel wrong or inauthentic to you both. You both feel you belong there, on a racetrack beside the other, it makes sense that that would be where it all began.
So you met at a racetrack as children, as did countless others. You were all chasing the same dream. Through the years, they all flicker and fade in and out of you life, yet he remains constant. In some ways, they are all simply moths, drawn to the flames, fighting and yearning to catch a glimpse of the Sun, of the dream but not fall from the heavens as Icarus did. You know many burned by the dream. You and him, you were never moths. You become one with the flames and are reborn. Again, and again, and again. Whilst the rest burn, you both rise from the ashes. What crushes others, only seems to strengthen you.
You hold that same flame in your hearts, the same desire, the same dream. Perhaps that is why you clashed as much as you did. You were too similar. Stubborn and arguably reckless, you battle hard without thinking of consequences because you both want to win. Neither of you are willing to compromise or give the other even an inch. You push each other to the very limit. At times it's frustrating, to have someone as committed as you competing against you.
You learn that at Val d’Argenton. He pushes you. You push him back. He pushes you off track. You, in his words, then completely destroy him. You both get disqualified to your absolute annoyance, but it's the first time you take stock of his fearlessness. You can't help but admire it. Yes it's frustrating at times but you can't help but find that there's beauty in it too.
Slowly, then all at once, you both grow up. You move up in the world onto the next stage of chasing the dream but you know he'll soon follow. He is too good and to driven not to. Like you, he is never going to be one who gives up. You're not quite friends but you still choose to recommend him as your replacement. You're not quite friends but you can't imagine never racing with him again, and you know that your old team is the best path for him, because it was for you.
A few years later, you meet on a racetrack again. You're older and more experienced, still not quite friends but now there's an understanding between you. You know him and he knows you in a way that you doubt anyone else ever has or ever will. You can push each other in ways some will only ever imagine. There's a trust between you, you can push each other to the very edge but you know the other will not cross the line and go too far. You might not quite be friends but there's comfortable familiarity there.
Sixteen is the number he chooses for himself. It's a number he of course had his reasons for choosing but you can't help but smirk a little at the coincidence.
Sometimes it's like nothing has changed. You still meet at the track, you still battle for positions and are both still as stubborn and as committed as ever. Slowly you realize that you don't enjoy competing quite as much when it's not with him.
Sometimes it's like everything has changed. You've slowly become friends. You begin to share inside jokes and have quiet talks in the corner during race weekends. It's his face you look for across the paddock. Despite being rivals on track, you are also his greatest defender and he yours. The quiet, "nobody understands him quite like I do", remains unspoken but you both know.
You were too young to see the days of Prost and Senna. Still, you hear the stories. You both have been compared to them many times too. You wonder if one day, your names will be as irrevocably linked together as theirs are. Perhaps they already are. After all, for as long as there's been a Charles Leclerc, there has been a Max Verstappen. You've never been one for grandeur or for the mythos formula one creates but you don't seem to mind this.
You say that you grew up racing each other, that you'll gladly spend the next ten, fifteen years racing each other if you're lucky. Was that a promise or an oath? Or was it simply a truth?
You were born sixteen days apart. You do not remember the world without him in it. Still, you never want to imagine the world without him by your side.
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Me, fighting tooth and nail against my irl friends who are sw*fties: yeah well, maybe I want my sad girl music to have a 3 minute guitar solo and distorted audio after the second verse of vaguely gay lyrics have you considered that ?!
#admit it if pete wentz's lyrics were sung by some white woman to plain ass slow piano music with max 3 cords yall would eat that shit up#but heaven forbid it be layered and/or vocally/musically compelling with a decibel count over 65.2#or not sung by a climate criminal trying to sound emotional or weepy but actually sounds constipated 💀#icarus' random screaming#icarus' burning life stories#anti taylor swift#im probably slicing my palm open for a demonic ritual in shark infested waters by doing this but oh well#pete wentz#fall out boy#icarus falls out#not even just fall out boy. I'll put on the tamest led zepplin or rage against song i can find and they look at me like 😶😣😖😨😰😱😵#i put on eat your young they ASK then i try explain the critique of war profiteering/capitalism and theyre like silly ***** readin too deep#LIKE YOU ASKED. I KEPT IT SO SIMPLE. YOUR FELLOW SWIFTIES LOVE THIS SHIT WTF#im scared to try and bring up mitski (esp. working for the knife/best american girl) lest i kill my own friends#like they're not insane conspiracy swifities and i love them dearly but they're fundamentally tiktok youth gen z and im... not :/#and im fine with it we joke and laugh about it and poke fun at each other for it but sometimes i feel so alienated#not on purpose. not by them. but i look at em and they look like test tube babies (not mean).#they look to me like what ginny & georgia looks like to them. too polished too stylised too... Just So#sometimes they look like the same lifeless tiktok copy and pasted and it scares me#im trying to remember that post about how tiktok thirst traps and general posts are so set up and stilted they look sexless#and robotic#anyway#the generational gap between me and my fellow teens/young adults 💀💀💀
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months
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Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Teaser
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Every day, every moment If I knew this was going to happen I would have remembered more of them
-Still With You
Summary: With You Still is a story that follows the lives of Luna and her most cherished friends. Love, Lust. Life, Loss. Passion, Pain. Desire and Death. Those are the many things that befall them as they navigate life trying to find their purpose. Will she be able to find a way to reach that utopia she had once dreamed of? Or will she realize that things that might've felt like a dream come true can soon be twisted into her worst nightmare. Read as Luna, Jungkook, Grey and Jimin navigate this thing called life. Will they get through this with their friendships intact? Only time will tell... Pairing: Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 600~ Warnings: Explicit language, yändere, mental illness, death, substance abuse, sex, domestic violence and sexual assault. Please keep this in mind as the story progresses. a/n: I transferred this story over from Wattpad but decided to change up some of the characters P.s. I have no set plan for this story so any suggestions or requests are more than appreciated
I never thought it could end up like this, that things could go to shit so easily.
Where did I go wrong?
Those are the thoughts that run through my head over and over again as I hold their cold lifeless body in my arms.
This doesn't happen, this couldn't happen! Not to us.
Everything was just falling into place and yet, it all went up in flames the moment I heard that blood curdling scream.
What did I do to deserve this? What did they do to deserve this? They were so young, had their whole life ahead of them, our life...
It was ripped away from us before it even began.
Endless sirens pierce my ears as they make their way to the scene but I can't help but feel that they're too late.
I can't lose them, not like this.
I could see our future fading away with every wave that washed over our bodies. Why are the young taken away in such horrific ways?
If things had been different, if I had been different, would it have changed anything? Or was it inevitable from the start...
Nothing in this world could possibly make me feel whole again, not after what he did. How could he do this? After everything we've been though he just goes off and hurts the one person I knew I could always rely on.
And for what? Because he was jealous?
I guess jealousy and revenge are more important to him than my happiness.
To think that I trusted him with my life because for once I let my guard down so I could actually feel something is laughable now after everything he's done
He proved to me that my worst nightmare could happen just because I wanted to feel loved.
Huh, well never fucking again will I ever love someone as much as I loved them.
I gave up my whole life just so I could be with him because I thought he was good for me. That he was going to take me away from all the pain and suffering I had dealt with my entire life.
When in actuality, his mind games were the ones that were twisting my reality into something that I didn't even recognize.
I never once felt like I needed someone to make me feel complete. And then he came around and I couldn't help but feel empty without him.
Everything about him made me want to get closer. But like Icarus I flew too close to the sun and in the end I got burned and in turn took everyone I knew and loved down with me.
Toxicity is the only word that can be used to describe what we had. I thought that he loved me the way that I loved him.
I was naÏve and had my vision tinted with pink colored glasses when it came to us. Even when everyone was telling me no, I couldn't help but say yes.
He was my one and only, my first true love as the fairytales call it.
Yet it all ended in the most excruciating heartbreak that I didn't even know existed.
Love can be cruel and rip you to shreds. I don't believe in love, and I never will. And I swear I will never allow anyone to get close enough to hurt me ever again.
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salmonight · 11 months
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Free Title Ideas Pt. 1
I am always looking for new title ideas trying to find the perfect match for my meager amount of fics actually published ( I got a ton of wips mind you) so I have this little file full with title ideas I got from here and there and I thought I share them! Feel free to use them and all! I only actually used a few of them myself so theyre up for the take! Enjoy!
( I suck at categorizing mind u so take it however u want)
Low Mood:
Paint Splattered Teardrops
A Mournful Radio Song
The Quite Ivories
20 Minute Too Long… Too Late-
No Third Round Up
My Heart's An Artifice, A Decoy Soul
If These Walls Could Talk
Like Drying Paint on the Walls
Withering Memories
Bury Our Secrets Shallow
Isn't It Tragic How Far You Came?
The Best of the Worsts
Your Wings Are Failing, Icarus
Let Your Wings Carry You Away From Here
Cry For Reflection
The Scream of Winter
Much Madness in Divinest Sense
Family Doesn't End in Blood
In This Castle Of Glass
All the Same (Once a Liar, Always a Liar)
Crack:
Law is Where You Buy It
Miles from Normal
Stop Screaming - It's Me
Between Two Liars…
Lost My Soul and All I Got Was this T-Shirt
Dude, Where's My Soul?
When Life Hands You Demons Make Demonade
Demon-Blend Straigh From Hell
Nothing to See Here Officer, Just a Bunch of Blobs
Hey Kid, Wanna Buy a Blob Ghost?
Gingers Have No Souls
This Little Blob of Mine
Feral Goose Hunting: A Beginner's Guide (Just Don't)
10 Ways to Connect with Your Feral Goose by Robin
A Guide on Ruining Your Life
It IS and Idea (Just NOT the Brightest)
I Am totally NOT the One to Blame for THIS
Dead Men Won't Shut Up
Encryptid
Cryptid Crash Course
Shakespeare Has Nothing on Me!
[insert name]'s Observation Diary of the Weirdest Boss(es)
The Devil’s Eyes and His Voice of Reason
Romance:
Makeshift Chemistry
Stargazing, Coffee and the Mystery of You..
Play Love Like Killers (We All Fall)
Good Vibes:
Sunshine Riptide
Come on Baby, the Laugh Is on Me
Fair With Some Rain
Star Light, Star Bright, First Arrow I See Tonight
Bitter (?):
Ah, Lay Waste to it, then Laugh at it
Believe, We Were Never Gonna Lose Control
Die, but too Blind to See
Too Latte for Smiling (yes thats a pun there no miss typing)
And as the Scribe Said, Mark Me Up With Words
Vodka Shots in the Dark
What Lingers, What Waits
Dr.Sunshine is Dead
Action:
Swing 'em Sword, Comin' in Swarms
Droppin' Guns all on the Floor 'till it look like River Styx
Black on Black at Night
Rifles, and they're Useless in this House
Dropp the Dagger
Watch Us BURN
Death:
Leave Your Body and Soul at the Door
Dead Man's Party
'Till the Reaper Call
'cause the Hangman's Waiting
A Night in the Ice Box
Stars Fall Underground
Can't Reach the Stars from the Underworld
Dance on Your Grave in All Whites
I Will See You Down Below
A Toast to the Passing Lights
I am a Ghost, but Only If You Remember
A Forray into Thanatology
Do You Want to Build a Snow-ghost?
In the In Between
Deceased When Last Seen
They Only Murdered Him Once
Colder Than These Bones
A Ghostly Collection of Stories once Untold
Dearly Departed
Hopeful:
City of Last Hopes
Bright Foggy Skies
This Bird Has Flown
A Bard's Tale, so Bittersweet
In the Winter, the Van Keeps Rolling
Oh Raven (Sing Me a Happy Song)
A Light to Call Home
Lost and Found
Towards the Sun
Khmm I have quite a few ghost/death and Dc related ones cuz I mostly wrote DC and DP fics so I looked for tittles for those. Those who know, know those who don't can ignore them.
Pt 2 |
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powderblueblood · 4 months
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GETTING TO KNOW YOUR EDDIE
— the 411 on the loser playboy of the midwestern world
Tagged by @jo-harrington & @deathbecomesthem who got this stunning prompt on the road, love this love youse
let’s talk MUNSON!
What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)? The Eddie darling that takes up prime real estate in my brain is of course Hellfire & Ice Eddie, which is a teen romantic-dramadey with sprinkles of crime capers on top. We meet him at 18 years of age, drug dealin’, Dungeon wheelin’, at the absolute top of his bottom of the food chain game. He’s all raw nerve and engine sputter, our consummate not ready for prime time player. He is brassy, ballsy, funny, terrified.
What inspired you to write this Eddie? Flight of Icarus, actually! It reignited my initial love for him by basically confirming what I had already known to be true—he’s a little bitch that’ll take any opportunity to be struck down lovesick and he’s doomed by his bloodline.
What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story? Eddie runs on a full tank of defiance, just burning rubber against what’s expected of kids his age—but to zoom in? Eddie sometimes wonders what it would be like if he was different. Tried harder. Cut his hair, joined the basketball team, really pulled himself up by his bootstraps and divorced himself from his stain of a last name. Folded in and blended, made all the right moves. Why couldn’t I do that? he thinks, Just pretend. I’m good at making shit up. But that’s selling out. And Eddie Munson is no sell out—rap sheet or no, his life is his own.
What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed? Casual day, it’s your cartoon character stock costume of insert band t-shirt here, ripped jeans there, doubled up battle vest and leather cut to top it all off. There might be a variant in jean shade but that’s it. He likes to stick to a look. The dressiest he’ll go (he does not own dressy clothes) is a black cable knit sweater, very old, with the thumb holes worried through the cuffs. To bed, preferably nothing, but boxers of absolutely necessary and a very old, ratty pair of flannel PJ bottoms and an old t-shirt or a faded sweatshirt of Wayne’s if it’s freezing.
Favorite foods? This FUCK loves a pizza with the most fuckass toppings. Anchovy, black olive, pepperoni, sweetcorn (for the vitamins!), pineapple (for the jizz thing!) all on the one pie. But he can cook, to an extent, and we unfortunately have to hand this to ex-line cook Al who taught him how to grill a cheese and make a bitchin’ spaghetti with honeyed tomato gravy and lots of oregano. Eddie also loves a snack he can gesticulate with, see: Twizzler, corn dog, ice pop. Bordering on phallic foods.
Tell Us About His Family/Friends: Immediately in the gene pool—Al, the absent and up-to-no-good father who somehow still has a knife in Eddie’s side and will twist it with the simple words, “C’mon, that’s my boy!” Wayne, uncle and father figure, silent but loving and the only real pillar Eddie could ever lean against, and he feels like such a burden for it sometimes. Elizabeth, mommy dearest and dead, canonised like a saint in Eddie’s mind, and might have been but also might not have been. The root of his love of music and his need to tell stories to survive. The found-by-the-hand-of fate family— Ronnie Ecker, the Stalter to his Waldorf, the Bonham to his Page, the only person he’d ever follow into battle because you wouldn’t think it but Ronnie, who is secretly rage akimbo, would accidentally lead that charge. He loves her like a sister, she loves him like a dog. Just kidding. Maybe. He wants to be Ronnie Ecker when he grows up. Granny Ecker comes as part of this deal, one of the people credited with whooping Eddie into shape. We don’t quite know what shape yet, it’s Picassoan in nature. Then, the extension again that is the great Corroded Coffin/Hellfire crossover event—Jeff, Cyrus, Dougie and Gareth. He’s not quite as close with the boys, but they’re good boys. They love and fear him, except for Cyrus who is a true enigma which pisses Eddie off because he’s supposed to be the fucking enigma here, dammit.
Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story: We are working off Flight of Icarus rules so he’s got a taste in the mouth for Howlin’ Wolf style blues, real down and dirty Detroit shit. He also loves a sleazeball, so enter Tom Waits and when he’s feeling REALLY sentimental, Leonard Cohen. Eddie loves to bite a thumb so he has some punk spinning too—Richard Hell, MC5, The Cramps, and reluctantly Iggy and the Stooges. They’re Al’s favourite so kind of tainted. Last but not least, I think that Johnny Cash’s Live From Folsom Prison album gets a lot of play. Particularly Cocaine Blues and Dark in the Dungeon, which he’s definitely incorporated into some campaign. He does NOT listen to CHICK MUSIC because he’s a loser boy (Wayne has a Linda Ronstadt record that makes him cry).
What are his views on romance? On sex? Eddie Munson falls in love fourteen times a day because at the be all and end all, he’s an artist and he’s sensitive as shit. Let’s get one thing straight—he can flirt to beat the band, once anyone gives him the time of day. Which they don’t. But in his mind? He’s a silver tongued Casanova. It’s just easier to use on people he hates. Once he has a crush, he has an obsession, even if he’s oftentimes too chickenshit to act on it. Cue pulling pigtails in the playground routine. He wants so badly to worship someone and be worshipped in return, okay, it’s reciprocal worshipping—give him mutual pathological obsession or give him DEATH. He wants to build a shrine, and will, to the right person. He’ll preoccupy his mind with every detail about them to the point where, yeah, it is borderline kind of stalkery but he’s still 18 years old. Speaking of, sex? Yeah, he’s done it. Badly. He’s like to do it again, goodly. He’d like to do it with someone that wasn’t treating it like an experiment, someone who’d let him slobber all over them and rut and keen and whine like the hound in heat he fucking feels like. He has no goddamn control! He experiences pleasure in a total headrush, never been able to stay cool and sexy and commanding a day in his life. He just wants, wants, wants and he burns so hot. Eddie wants so clumsily that it comes out at the most inappropriate times, like the nurse’s office after he gets his fist busted. He’s not some sex god, just some dick with an overeager cock. But he sure is willing to put in the work.
Is he optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic on the surface, the life is shit and then you die so might as well do some whippits poster boy but so so secretly, Eddie holds the tiniest flame of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better. At the very least easier. That he’ll grow into his bones somehow, or someone will help soothe him into them. That he’ll feel some kind of belonging. Because he does want that, really. Some soft place to land.
Where or with whom is he most comfortable? Those pockets of alchemy at Hellfire Club when he’s got a rapt audience. With Ronnie, sitting on the sagging couch outside his trailer. Playing chauffeur to a certain princess across-the-way.
What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams? Pie in the sky? Cover of Circus with his cheeks out, duh. A Grammy or two, his own metal club, a published fantasy author, shit. He’s not askin’ for the world, here! But honestly, Eddie’s view of his future is 18 year old misanthropist bleak. He hasn’t even considered college as an option, not that he’d get there with his grades. He figures he might just start selling full time for Rick once (if) he graduates then hopefully have the good enough sense to take his money and split to Chicago or someplace. Might hit it lucky when he’s played in a couple more iterations of Corroded Coffin and con someone into letting him be a session guitarist—which wouldn’t be the cover of Circus, but would still be a huge deal! But as much as an ego game as he likes to talk, he’s got this terrible, looming feeling that he’ll never leave Hawkins alive.
What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.) I’ll give you a couple details, because I am writing a sequel about this. Picture a brief stint in Indianapolis. Meaner, grizzlier, bartender-ier, going on a decade of heartbreak, performing at his sexual best but nearing burnout and about to turn 30 with some side dealings at home that are edging out of the side and into the forefront. Heavy is the hand that wears the ring. You look so much like your father!
Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story? He is so full of love and piss and vinegar. He is going to end up cherished. Like, violently so.
Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson? I love a tragedy touched smartass who folds at the first sign of affection. I want to nourish him and eat him up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or have Lacy do it for me, whatever.
tagging: YOU. READING THIS. Not KIDDING IF YOURE READING THIS GET TO WORK
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bloopitynoot · 9 months
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Shadowgast Space-AUs I love
I read a LOT of Shadowgast fics, and one genre that has my heart in the best of ways are the Space AU's and Space-Opera AU's!
Here are some of the ones that I just love (not all of them are complete, there is one WIP that I am following).
1.Icarus to your certainty
Icarus to your certainty (11429 words) by @essektheylyss Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Essek Thelyss is an arrogant researcher trying to reach a black hole on the edge of known space when his mistakes and intellectual zealotry result in the deaths of the rest of the crew and leave him stranded with nothing but a short-range radio. After seven months alone on his space station, the black hole spits out a shuttle, as lost as he is.
Why I loved it: I read a lot of sad/sappy/and poetic genres and this one was just that. The way it was written was so intentional and so to the point, every phrase just added to the development of the story. The writing style, the character development, and the raw emotional processing of survivors guilt was just so beautiful to read through.
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2.The wine dark sky (series)
**I went with the second fic in this series because it was much more Essek/Caleb centric but honestly ALL of them were fantastic to read.
The Schwarzschild Solution (13650 words) by dawl_and_dapple (if you know their tumblr, let me know and I will tag them here!). Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Series: Part 2 of the wine dark sky Summary: Caleb pressed his palm into his chest. The weight of this affection grew and waned in intensity while Essek drifted in and out of his life, like a moon and her tides, but they never showed signs of withering in spite of the uncertainty of their relationship. As it stood, Essek was a satellite. He seemed happy enough to remain as such, as far as Caleb could tell, and Caleb was more than happy to be blessed by the tides of his love. A series of meetings between Caleb and Essek across the Wynandir galaxy. Written for Shadowgast Week 2021 - Day 1: Gravity/Attraction
why I loved it: The writing style of the entire series is just gorgeous. I love when the chronology of a story is played with and the story is told almost like each segment is a short scene in a movie. This story in particular was just beautiful in the way that it shared moments between Essek and Caleb- it really felt like the ebb and flow of a tide (also I am such a sap for happenstance meetings and two souls connecting so naturally). Anyways lots of space and space travel and I totally recommend for a shorter read.
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3.A Tapestry of Stars
*Currently a WIP but it has been wonderful so far.
A Tapestry of Stars (100725 words) by cinderstorm (if you know them her eon tumblr, let me know and I will tag them!). Chapters: 39/50 Rating: Explicit Summary: “This is not a negotiation.” Deirta Thelyss’s voice cracked the air like a thunderclap, sharp enough that even her ever-bustling flock of attendants twitched. “You will agree to this marriage, or I will have you cast from Den Thelyss for dereliction of duty. Is that clear?” Essek held himself stiffly, his shoulders rising in affront. A dangerous lapse of control, considering the woman standing before him, and one he would berate himself for later in the privacy of his tower, but he couldn’t help it. To be bartered off as—as a diplomatic representative of all things. It was absurd, insulting. Was the prestige his accomplishments brought to the den not enough? The Bright Queen herself had awarded him the title of Shadowhand for the advancements he’d made to the field of dunamancy, advancements that had secured countless victories in the war. Why should he have to upend his entire life to accommodate some human he’d never even met? Or: A Shadowgast Arranged Marriage AU in Space~
Why I love it: I adore the arranged marriage but they fall for eachother slow burn happy ending AU's (I don't know if this will be a happy ending but I am hoping for it very much so). Put that arranged marriage au in SPACE with a looming war, secrets, and blackmail and well- I will take that space opera. This AU is so well written, my heart goes out to both Caleb and Essek and I am just happy to be here on the journey while the plot unfolds.
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4. Among the Nein
Among the Nein (124172 words) by @nellasbookplanet Chapters: 14/14 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Summary: Beau only needed someplace to hide for five minutes; she never intended to stow away on a glorified research vessel headed for Ruidus. Caleb only wanted a chance to get at the arcane knowledge surrounding the further moon; he never meant to get involved with the foreign spy hiding among the crew. Both of them were making do with the situation at hand. And then someone murdered the captain. AKA the Among Us-inspired AU no one asked for (no prior knowledge of the game required; if you like space and murder you'll be fine).
Why I loved it: The space opera-au/Among Us fic I didn't know I needed. I fully admit I had no knowledge of Among Us going into this fic (it is not at all needed) but I am so happy I decided to read it anyways! It was such a good story! A happy ending after a path of secrets, trust issues, and loads of self-loathing. It is a multi ship fic so you get shadowgast but also lots of beauyasha as well. I did not sob, but I did tear up- so you know this story is a good one.
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One more: Special shout out to one of my absolute favourite shadowgast fics and an absolute space opera (I wanted to mention it here but I have already mentioned it in my "Shadowgast that Made me Ugly Cry" list) it get's an honourable mention
5. what luminous worlds await another fantastic piece by @essektheylyss . This fic has my entire heart. I was destroyed and rebuilt in this Space Opera-AU.
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"Landscape with the Fall of Icarus", Pieter Bruegel the Elder (c. 1560);
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"Landscape with the Fall of Icarus" (poem), William Carlos Williams (1960);
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"Musée des Beaux Arts" (poem), W. H. Auden (1938);
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“ICARUS”, STARSET;
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“Icarus”, Bastille;
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“Fun”, Coldplay;
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“Sunlight”, Hozier;
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“I, Carrion (Icarian)”, Hozier;
Icarus's passing is seen by Bruegel, Williams, and Auden as a minor incident in the grand scheme of existence. Williams' "quite unnoticed" serves as a reminder/memento mori of our own mortality. Dying is not such a remarkable occurrence, life moves on without us when we pass away. And sometimes all that can be heard at the end of a life is a just a brief splash sound.
"Icarus" by STARSET is about a self-destructive character. They interpret the story of Icarus as an allegory for being too self-absorbed at the expense of others. The lines "you'll never be good enough" and "you always fly right up until it burns" as well as "you'll never go through them" all allude to a tendency to constantly pursue the same route over and over no matter what.
Bastille's "Icarus" retells Icarus's story alongside a modern tragedy. The opening scene of "Icarus" shows a person preparing to "dig their own grave" and "drink themselves to death." The song continues by drawing a comparison between death and Icarus, who is "flying too close to the sun/ And Icarus's life, it has only just begun". With these lines, Bastille adapt the Icarus myth to a more contemporary setting, creating associations with tragedy and the carelessness of wasted youth.
In the song "Fun" by Coldplay, the singer likens himself to Icarus and confesses, "I know it's over before she says/ Now someone else has taken your place/ I know it's over, Icarus says to the sun". The Icarus myth is reframed by Coldplay as a tragic love story between a young person and the sun.
Hozier's song "Sunlight" describes how he is ready to die (metaphorically) in order to be with the person he views as his sunlight. While Hozier's main concern in "I, Carrion" is his lover's support, even in the face of death. The narrator's deep yearning for their lover's companionship leads them to embrace death willingly. Just as Icarus dismissed Daedalus' warning about flying too high, Hozier shows a similar disregard, blinded by love, prioritizing his over to the point of placing them over his own life.
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love that it's 10 pm and only now I'm getting the information that's it's america day (4th of July) though a peer review reblog of a 2022 spnblr destiel stufjan stevens amv that's done permant damage to my brain. this is just another flavour of the destiel confession meme.
god bless yall truly the strongest soldiers.
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