Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Rite Here, Rite Now Part 1
This two shot fic is dedicated to that poor soul on TikTok getting shitty comments about a headcanon of Eddie liking Ghost. Fandom has become so damn toxic bro. Who cares about what an imaginary character likes or dislikes?? We are cringe, we are legion. We make out of pocket headcanons sometimes. Like come on, Eddie might “theoretically” dislike Mary On A Cross specifically for various reasons, but I could see him having some favorites. You can’t say he would entirely hate Ghost when fucking Year Zero and Mummy Dust exist. Or the whole of Prequelle as an album. I had to laugh at one person saying he liked Avenged Sevenfold (it didn’t exist in the 80’s and neither did Ghost like we are literally arguing about shit he wouldn’t have known about be so serious rn). But I digress. I’ve even gotten a couple hateful comments on a fun little TikTok I made and I honestly have just been deleting them and blocking. Don’t even want to deal with people’s bullshit anymore. Please enjoy this spite fic and continue writing and having fun babes. Go against the flow and make Eddie proud.
Part 1 (You are Here), Part 2
Every member of Corroded Coffin could tell when you arrived to a function. Eddie knew the sound of your car like a cat that knows when its owner is home, and he’d be waiting outside the school to greet you first. That and the car make and model. Someone always called it if not Eddie. He’d been off his game today though, definitely the excited nerves. Jeff called out your 1979 Volkswagen Beetle heading up the driveway by slugging Eddie hard on the bicep, Gareth and Dougie immediately following up with calling “no tag backs” as they rushed to hit each other and Eddie like a bunch of middle schoolers. Eddie almost got nailed by Dougie’s beefy fist until he nimbly dodged out of the way, cradling his prized Warlock like it was a newborn.
“God dammit, easy asshole!” Eddie laughed. “Don’t be hitting my baby! I need her intact if I’m going to impress our songstress.”
“Trust me Ed, she doesn’t need more impressing. You had her in a tizzy when you asked her to write a song for you. I wonder what she came up with.” Gareth said, leaning forward so his hands were settled on both his high and medium toms, he was watching your approach intently with a gleam in his eye. “She didn’t even make it to campaign on Friday. Must have really been in the zone.”
You parked the car against the side of the driveway, emerging looking as though you’d just swallowed a whole mouthful of cry baby sour gum. Your lips were pressed tightly together, clutching your fat Trapper Keeper to your chest as you approached the group.
“Hey sweetheart!” Eddie called, waving you over enthusiastically. “You okay?”
“Eddie… God it’s so bad… It’s worse than I thought.” You said, grimacing.
God you looked delicious. He couldn’t help himself but to stare and smile like a dope. With each step your flowing gray skirt swished enticingly side to side, and with a bit of pride Eddie noticed you were wearing the Twisted Sister shirt he’d distressed for you, looking like an adorable snack of a metalhead with your black clothes, black opaque tights and dirty Chucks.
Eddie’s smile faltered only slightly when he heard your self depreciation.
“Oh come on, can’t be that bad. Not with those grades you’ve got in English. Let me see…”
“Fuck no! No seriously… it’s worse than you think.” You insisted, shaking your head and pulling away from his outstretched hand, “It’s so… God dammit! What the hell was I thinking…?”
Gareth, Jeff and Dougie left their instruments to approach you, Eddie putting both hands on your shoulders to comfort you.
“Hey, hey… come on, don’t be like that.” He said, smile gone and a more serious look on his face. “I get it, I really do. It comes with the territory of writing your own songs. Trust me, I’ve done it for years. You won’t pick it up overnight, and whatever you think is weak we can work on it together. I’m a DM honey, I can have my pen out faster than you can blink and help redraft as many times as it takes.”
“Oh… god dammit… okay, fine…”
You reluctantly handed Eddie the trapper keeper, the velcro making a harsh rip as he pulled it open to the first page where your lyrics neatly sat waiting for him to peruse. Eddie’s eyebrow raised when he saw the title, “Square Hammer”, outlined in red ink.
“ ‘Square Hammer’? … Huh… I like it, that’s good.” Eddie nodded, and continued to read on.
The lyrics were certainly unique to say the least. It was obvious you’d tried to go with a theme based on the prompt he’d given you: something that oozes the brooding dark metal he envisioned Corroded Coffin would croon to thousands of fans. You certainly had an affinity for the macabre, and he knew he could trust you with everything he wanted in his vision. Then again you could have written the cheesiest, poppy trash in the world and he would have loved it. He was extremely biased, far too sweet on you for his own good. But these weren’t bad at all. The lyrics reminded him of old Hollywood vampire movies, echoing the work of Doctor Faustus with the thematic element in the song. The voice of the lyrics seemed to be coming from an otherworldly entity, one summoned to offer power and prestige to the listener.
And Eddie was obsessed with every word the further he read on.
His eyes widened with every sentence he read.
Powers clandestine, solving a crooked rhyme… Every line, no matter how simple, packed a lot when combined in the collective.
Eddie finally looked up at you, completely bewildered.
“You wrote this by yourself?!” He croaked.
You were embarrassed to hell, curling in on yourself and looking like you wanted to die.
“Ye… yeah… I… When you asked me to write for you, I got really stuck on what I wanted to do. But I remember you mentioned Black Sabbath was one of your first covers, and then I couldn’t get the image of the coffin out of my head because, you know, “Corroded Coffin”… and then we were reading Faustus in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class and I thought since you asked me to do you this favor and Faustus is all about favors…-“
You were rambling. Not even paying attention to Eddie’s continually growing grin. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet the longer you ranted on, until his untamable outburst silenced you.
“THIS IS AMAZING!” Eddie was screaming, scaring the shit out of everyone. “Holy fuck sweetheart! Are you bullshitting me?! This is… fuck! We’ve been stressing for new material for next month’s gig at The Hideout and you just gave it to us on a silver platter?! Jesus H.!”
“Check this out…!” Eddie turned away to show his friends while you quietly protested, unable to speak as he passed the paper around. The guys crowded around, each one shouting out when they saw a favorite part, “hammering the nails into the sacred coffin” quickly became a favorite, because they immediately began trying to work out how they could fit the lyrics to sound.
“All we gotta do is work out a melody and we’re in business baby!” Eddie said. “This is bitchin’!”
“But it doesn’t even make any sense!” You argued. “Like seriously? The entrance to the shrine part does not fucking fit, I only wrote it because I couldn’t come up with a better rhyme with clandestine!”
“Who cares?” Eddie cried. “It’s badass as hell! The imagery is absolutely savage… ‘Hiding from the night, sacrificing nothing’, and don’t let me forget about the little tongue in cheek line you added about hammering nails into a sacred coffin!”
“It’s fucking great!” Echoed Jeff.
“You should be proud. You managed to take our style and give it a unique spin, that’s not something anyone can do.” Eddie praised. “God dammit… I’d have been a millionaire by now if I could write like this.”
“You… you really liked those parts?” You asked cautiously.
“Of course I did sweetheart! This is real metal shit right here. And the part with the ‘crooked rhyme’? That really captured the creep factor I was looking for. Shit… what’s more metal than summoning a demon for a deal? That’s exactly what Corroded Coffin needs in its material. I love this little brain of yours!”
“Don’t forget Ed!” Dougie cut in. “ ‘Are you ready to swear right here right now before the devil’?!”
“Bitchin’! Keep this up, and I’m gonna wanna make you write all of Corroded Coffin’s songs from now on!” Eddie beamed happily.
“We gotta get the melody worked out!” Jeff said, “Any ideas? I could come up with a few…”
The boys began gabbing together, Eddie unable to help himself as he began to strum his precious 1984 BC Warlock, his black beauty. Without a doubt he could already envision how he could make his baby purr for you, impress you, take you out finally.
And then you changed his world forever.
“… I had an idea for a melody already…” you said quietly.
All eyes turned to you. The guys were thunderstruck.
“Seriously?! Lyrics and a melody?! You’re spoiling the shit out of me sweetheart! Jeff, let her borrow your…-“
“No… no I… I don’t know how to play guitar…” you said, cutting off Eddie sheepishly, “But I… I brought my Casio with me…”
“In the trunk of my bug…”
“Well go get it! Show me whatcha got sweetheart!”
Eddie followed you to the front of the Volkswagen. Everyone always thought the front trunk was the coolest shit ever and he was no exception. The cool car only added to the many things he liked about you. You took out the obnoxiously large keyboard and the stand, fumbling to close the trunk until Eddie stepped in with an “easy… I got it”, slamming the trunk shut and helping you lift the Casio like a gentleman. You were shaking, vibrating with embarrassment so hard that Eddie had to help you plug everything in and adjust the sound, hovering and reaching over you on purpose hoping you’d notice and feel his burn for you.
“Alright sweetheart? Show us what you’ve got.”
You turned on the Casio and fingered the keys gently, warming up with a few chords as you tried to soothe the shaking in your fingers. Fiddling with the settings, you stalled as long as you could while the boys waited patiently. Once you found the setting you wanted, you went for it.
It was like a demon had possessed your body. The melody was quick, but it packed a hell of a punch. It was in the key of D minor, and you had ironically chosen what sounded like a combination of 1960’s psychedelic sticky rhodes and Transylvanian organ to achieve the effect you wanted. The sound overall was eerie, yet enchantingly fun all at the same time. And your singing! You were singing softly under your breath, rocking yourself to the melody on the tips of your worn out sneakers, and you had quite the set of pipes! Despite your shot nerves, you’d clearly come up with something truly special that no one else in the entire world could have conceived of.
It wasn’t the traditional metal Eddie had in mind, more avant-garde, theatrical even. Whereas he had expected a sound more like Black Sabbath, you played something not out of place at a theater performance of Dracula. But this sound… there was something that nagged him about it. It was a sound that Eddie could imagine playing to arenas of screaming, adoring fans.
“Gentlemen… that’s our fucking song!” Eddie cried, “That’s our song, it’s a goddamned masterpiece!”
The Casio halted, and your mouth was hanging open mid play.
“What?! How-…” you began.
“I can already hear the riff, Ed what do you think of following with standard tuning instead of going to D minor?” Jeff picked up his Gibson and began to play, mimicking what he heard on your Casio by ear. “If you move it, the sound is way off from what I’m envisioning. But if you keep it at standard you leave it easier on the fingers with the couple of open notes when you start stretching.”
“Yeah, yeah! If you tune it down it’s going to sound off with her playing when you hit the chords.” Eddie agreed, immediately looking back at you. “Play it one more time sweetheart?”
You cautiously complied, going through the melody one more time as Jeff began to follow with you. Eddie was completely absorbed in your music, listening to both you and Jeff play and following along quietly. The warlock in his hands eventually couldn’t be helped, humming to life when he started playing a chord at a time by ear. As he played, he kept you repeating the melody over and over, both Eddie and Jeff deep in concentration on the sound. It was getting almost exhausting trying to continually repeat the sound until they got it right.
“D minor.” Eddie said, playing a note.
“Then she does B flat there.” Jeff played.
“A minor.” They said in unison.
“C. And that’s what I’m thinking your rhythm guitar can do, meanwhile, I’ll keep the root of the chords for the riff so I can follow her keys.” Eddie said, and he began to perfectly copy your melody. “Okay sweetheart, just one more time… and then let’s bring everything together.”
