This is a sideblog of @griefabyss, I figured I could put fandom related things here because I don't put original posts on the main blog (I use it to reblog art I like), and don't want to limit posting to just ao3. I'm happy to make friends on here!
Please note that a lot of my reblogs are from my queue and I don't tag about it, so if I seem active but I'm not replying to a message that'd be why!
GriefAbyss on ao3 - My writing tag - My art tag
I'd say the majority of my writing and art are NSFW, so proceed accordingly, thanks!
Fanfiction Masterposts
Steddie Microfics: 2023 - 2024 (Monthly fic challenges with specific WCs)
LARP AU (Eddie teaches Steve DnD and it gets... interesting)
Decipher series (One-shot explorations of uncommon fetishes)
One-Shots (Stories I don't plan to write more than one fic for)
Two-Shots (Stories I don't plan to write more than two fics for)
On-going Series (Might be updated very slowly but there are PLANS)
Collabs & Continuations (Other people's series/stories I've continued & single fic collaborations)
Steddie Smutty September (Fics written for the weekly challenge in 2024)
Other ST Events (Steddie songfics, room for more later on!)
If you're looking for any WIPs I might have posted about, try the chats from the abyss tag! I have approx 66 WIPs (I just counted 💀) so feel free to send me an ask if you can't find something you're looking for, though I only post about like 10% of them.
hate when im reading and theres a word i dont know so i search it in the dictionary and its like: beuperer. noun. a person who beupers. i'll fucking kill you
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often you will see things online where you just have to be like "what a strange thing to say" or "i don't think that's true :)" to yourself and try to move on or you will lose your mind
Prompt #30 - Doc Martens | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Temporary Character Death, Monster!Eddie, Illusions to Suicidal Ideation | POV: Steve | Pairing: Pre-Steddie | Tags: S5 Canon Divergence, Came Back Wrong, Steve Finds More Than He Bargained For During The Final Battle
Steve raids his closet.
He's supposed to be cleaning it out, boxing it up, and he does. Those boxes just end up in his house instead of at Goodwill.
Steve takes things he has no business keeping, and definitely no business wearing. They aren't his things, aren't his style, and Eddie wasn't even his friend, not really, but he starts working Eddie's clothes into his wardrobe.
A black shirt, torn around the collar.
A red and black flannel shirt, soft and worn.
A smoke-scented leather jacket, so supple that Steve can't keep his hands off it.
A bandana.
A cap. He's not sure the Case hat was Eddie's, but he still took it from Eddie's closet.
A pair of boots. Doc Martens that are well-worn, broken-in to Eddie's feet, not Steve's, and pinch his toes, but Steve wears them anyway.
He gets looks. From strangers. From his friends.
Dustin's mad about it, but Dustin's mad about everything these days. Steve's ignoring it. Henderson doesn't have the market cornered on playing the victim, and between the two of them, Steve's acting out in a much less annoying way.
Guilt's a helluva drug, and if he's choosing to express his regret in this way, well, so fucking be it.
Steve's going through the motions. Final battle. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Highest stakes ever. Now or never. He knows.
He re-adjusts Eddie's hat on his head, tugging it down backwards. They aren't gonna survive this one. He's sure of that.
Steve's not anyway.
He can just feel it. And he's never felt this way going into any of the other fights they've picked with monsters. This one feels like the last one. The end of the road, and he's prepared for it.
So, when he falls off the edge of the world, the tower tilting, he's not even surprised.
The fall isn't scary. He was expecting something, maybe not this exactly, but something, and he responds by stretching his arms out as wide as he can.
Falling, wind whipping around his body as he picks up speed on his final descent.
He is surprised when he's snagged mid-air, with a jolt that rolls through his entire body.
El.
He's grateful, but also a little disappointed. He'd made his peace.
Only, it's not El. He's not put down on the ground. No, he's yanked through the air under the arm of someone — something — solid. He can hear wings flapping, and he should be scared. Is, just a little, but at the same time? He's not.
Steve just enjoys the wind rushing against his face.
He enjoys flying.
At least he does until his stomach drops when they suddenly swoop low, the mouth of a cave coming into view, and they clear the opening, entering it at a speed that Steve cannot believe they were able to maintain.
Steve's dumped on his ass, in Eddie Munson's clothes.
It's been a weird year. Weird life.
He wonders if the rest of them were able to stop the merger. He thinks they must have. He's still here, wherever here is.
The sound of wings is loud, echoing harshly, and Steve probably should run. At least make an attempt to get away from whatever monster this is, but he doesn't. He lays there uncomfortably, Eddie's shield and spear digging into his spine.
Too tired to fight back.
A shadow slides over his face, darkening the area all around him. His eyes adjust, and well…
It's him.
Or, it's Eddie dressed as him.
No. Moreover, it's Eddie dressed as Steve dressed as Eddie.
Steve's a little confused.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
It shrieks. A high pitched wail that hurts Steve's ears, forcing him to cover his ears with his hands.
The Eddie creature does the same thing. It's curious.
Steve reaches for his hat, pulling it off.
This thing does the same thing.
Steve pulls the bandana tied around his neck up over his mouth. This Eddie abomination does the same fucking thing.
It's like a mimic.
"Eddie?" Steve tries again, and gets the same screech back. It must be trying to mimic his voice, his words, and simply cannot.
Steve strips down. Unlacing the boots, pulling off pieces of Eddie's clothing, dropping them into a pile. It does the same thing.
Once stripped, and there are two very similar piles of clothes on the cave floor, Steve takes him in.
It is Eddie.
It's his tattoos, and his lithe body. Not Steve's own.
"You're okay," Steve says, and the creature tosses back its head and wails.
Okay, so maybe he's not okay.
It starts chittering at him, and somehow, Steve understands what is being said. Now, Steve can't chitter back, but he can answer in English. He wonders if this is a side effect of the bat bites. He'd fought off a nasty infection, lots of antibiotics, and maybe this is what happens if you weren't treated?
Robin's gonna shit.
"I'm Steve. And you're Eddie. We came back for you," Steve says, and now that is a lie, but he doesn't think it's a particularly harmful one to tell.
Eddie screeches.
"We did. Get dressed, I'll take you home," Steve says, not understanding how Eddie is dressed nearly exactly like him. Minus the pieces that are too new to be duplicated down here. It must be a link from the bat bites that caused him to choose the same clothes.
That's the only explanation.
Steve doesn't exactly know what he'll do with a semi-feral Eddie topside, but, well, it's not like he has another option. They're going home.
"Henderson is gonna flip," Steve comments, and the noise that comes out of Eddie's mouth is the most human one yet: Henderson. It rattles around in Steve's head, like a bouncy ball.
Steve looks at him. "Henderson."
Scooped up, the wind whips as Eddie flies them up, up, up towards the tower, where Steve starts to hear the sounds of them mourning his demise.
Dustin's premature grief, echoing the loudest.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
for @corrodedcoffinfest day 30 prompt 'doc martens'
rated m | 828 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: bartender steve, strangers to lovers, steddie getting together, corroded coffin
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Whoever is in the stall with Eddie is definitely taller and bigger. It’s hard for Jeff to tell just staring at their matching Doc Martens, but one pair is quite a bit bigger than the other, and Eddie has pretty small feet for a normal sized guy.
He’d been chatting with one of the bartenders earlier, but the guy didn’t really seem like Eddie’s type. Maybe that’s not true, though.
Jeff knocks on the door. “Dude, they’re closing up and we still have to get Gare’s drums in the van.”
“Two minutes,” Eddie replies, voice pitched higher than usual. Jeff rolls his eyes. “Maybe one.”
“Dude.”
“They can’t close up without me anyway,” the other person in the stall says. “30 seconds.”
Jeff decides it’s not really his business why the time keeps going down while they’re talking. He’d rather not think about what’s going on in there.
–
His name’s Steve.
He hangs around after their shows here every week.
He’s nice, gets along with all of them. He’s funny, too. Hot. Way out of Eddie’s league, surely.
They sneak away after Corroded Coffin’s set every time, usually for only five minutes or so. Enough for everyone to notice, not enough for them to miss breakdown. All of them know what they’re going to do, but no one says anything.
No one even teases Eddie about it. Not even Gareth, who teases him about everything all the time.
Other than the Docs, Steve does not appear to be anything like them. Jeff isn’t one to judge off appearances, but he wears fucking polos. It’s not even part of his uniform.
He doesn’t like metal, but he bobs his head when they play, sometimes singing under his breath when he isn’t actively serving anyone. He’s never off when they play. He doesn’t really seem to be off ever.
Eddie never seems to see him outside of these nights. It’s confusing because he’s all he talks about. They all assume they’re boyfriends, but when Frankie suggests it, Eddie scoffs and says he doesn’t have a boyfriend.
They’re fuck buddies. Hooking up because it’s easy and they’re good at it.
“In the stall, though? Of the bathroom?” Jeff tries not to look as disgusted as he feels.
“Sometimes we use the backroom that’s the office.”
“Oh, that’s better.” Jeff rolls his eyes. “You guys can hook up at his place. Or your place. Or even the van.”
“Why are you so bothered?”
Jeff honestly doesn’t know.
“I just don’t want this to cause problems.”
–
It’s Steve’s bar. He fucking owns the bar. That’s why he’s always here.
Jeff finds out before Eddie, and he feels like a dumbass for not putting all the clues together sooner. He tells Gareth and Frankie immediately, and they look at him like he’s an idiot.
“We knew that,” Frankie says. “Did you really not?”
Jeff tells Eddie. Eddie didn’t know, but he also doesn’t seem surprised.
“That explains why he pretty much lives here,” Eddie looks over at where Steve is mixing some cocktails for the group of women who come in every Thursday evening after work. He flirts with them all, makes them extra strong drinks, and probably makes more money in tips from just them than he does from all the rest of the patrons combined. “Weird he lets us perform here, though. Most of the other acts are acoustic or cover bands. I thought he had someone else picking bands.”
It turns out he did have someone else picking bands for a while. His friend Mike booked bands for the bar, and he was the one who originally scheduled Corroded Coffin. His tastes are different according to Steve.
But when he saw the crowd they drew in, and when he saw Eddie, he made sure they kept coming back.
“So you’re saying my flirting and dick sucking skills got us the job?” Eddie asks with a wink.
Steve rolls his eyes. “No. I’m saying that you guys are good for business.”
“And…?” Eddie leans in close to him.
“And I like you a lot.”
It’s not what Eddie’s expecting. It’s not what any of them are expecting. He leans back as the smirk drops from his face.
“You do?”
Steve laughs. “I wouldn’t get on my knees in a public bathroom if I didn’t.”
“Are you saying you don’t take care of the bathroom of your bar?” Gareth asks, just to be a little shit. Jeff smirks.
“I’m saying I like Eddie. And I like you guys performing at my bar. So if it’s okay with all of you, I’d really like to keep you on the schedule and I’d also really like to bring Eddie to the back,” Steve tugs Eddie close. “We’ll only be ten minutes, tops.”
“You make it sound like I’m a two pump chump,” Eddie whines.
“That’s unfair.” Steve pauses and turns to grin at him. “Sometimes I don’t even get a hand on you at all.”
