Eric-carrburetorr - What The Fox?

Take me to church

warnings: angst, brief mentions of sh, homophobia, internalised homophobia, f slur, overall heavy topics. 🥰

a/n: whY AM I WRITING SLAXL 🥲 ts may be the most chronically online thing ive ever done. am i the only one who thinks axl and slash are like mickey and ian and am i also the only one who hates bottom mickey...

i like girls and guys i can say fag go away

enjoy ★

This was the worst thing that could've possibly happened to them. Or at least, that's what Slash thought. Axl and Slash had been secretly dating, but some dickhead soccer player at their school found out and told the entire school. It was bad enough that Slash had long hair, dressed in glam and occasionally painted his nails - he had a 'girlfriend' who was really his best friend who was secretly a lesbian. But now he was out as gay, and out against his will.

It had taken a serious toll on Slash's mental health, so much to the point that he couldn't bring himself to go to school and even took a blade to his skin.

The only thing that seemed good to him was when his mom found out and she was more than accepting. She was having an affair with David Bowie, and while it didn't affect him majorly, it was comforting to know he was accepting too.

As much as it didn't bother Axl, as long as it didn't get back to his parents, seeing how badly it affected the man he loved made him unbelievably angry.

Slash spent as much time as he could ditching class, staying home, or staying with Axl or his 'girlfriend'. Making sure he was never alone in public worked surprisingly well. Nobody came near him when he was with Axl, gay or not, people still avoid a hormonal bipolar teenager.

Of course, he would freak himself out when he he had to walk home. Alone. Axl hadn't been waiting for him at the end of the day like usual, so here Slash was, walking through an alley because it was the quickest way home. It was still light out, and no one was around, so he would be fine. Right?

Wrong.

It was fast. And slow. All at the same time. All it took was one punch for the loud ringing in his ears to start. Someone had grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. Hit. Punch. Shove. Kick. They pulled him up off the ground and shoved him against the wall again.

'Did you really think you'd get away with being a fucking faggot' one of them spat. The word alone hurt, but the way it rolled off his tongue with venom stung. The guy punched him again, he could feel the blood dripping down his face. Slash was more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life.

They weren't showing any signs of stopping any time soon. Was being gay this wrong? Was he truly a bad person?

He was in unbearable pain. He tried everything he could to push them off, but to no avail.

They were genuinely going to beat him to death. He was going to die. He was actually going to die all because of who he loved. That was all he could think about. His final thoughts. Until the guy was pulled off him.

Slash slowly opened his eyes. Before him was Axl beating the shit out of both guys and screaming at them. "Don't you EVER lay your fucking hands on him ever again, understand!?" He was screaming so loud it actually hurt Slash's ears. But what shocked him most was that both guys looked absolutely terrified, maybe even more than Slash.

They nodded and ran away.

Axl turned to Slash, who had since sunk to the ground sobbing and shaking.

Axl kneeled in front of him, cupping his face. "Let me see, let me see..." Slash tried to pull away. He was ashamed. He couldn't stand up for himself. Axl sighed, "it's okay, you're okay... okay? I'm gonna take you home. They're gone. Okay? You're safe. I promise."

Slash was in a state of shock. He was hyperventilating. He was clearly struggling to breathe. "I- they- I was just - and then - and I- walking - and they - attacked -" Axl shushed him, grabbing his face a little more rough than before.

"Breathe."

They sat in the alley for at least half an hour as Slash tried to come down from his panic attack. Axl stayed with him the entire time, doing and saying everything he could to help him relax. He knew Slash was prone to panic attacks. He also knew he was in a great deal of pain, which he could only imagine were making things worse.

As promised, Axl took Slash home. The pair were now sitting in the bathroom, Axl cleaning the blood from his boyfriend's face.

"Do you think this is wrong?" Slash asks carefully. "What, beating people up for being gay? Course it’s wrong, it's a hate crime - " Axl started, but Slash interrupted.

"Not that. This. Us."

Axl froze.

He slowly looked down at Slash. "Is that a serious question?" Slash nodded. "Everyone thinks so. Maybe they're right." Axl scoffs, "you're not serious, are you fucking serious!?"

He nodded again. "I don't think we should be together." Axl stares at him, "don't... don't say that... don't you fucking say that..." Slash gets up and walks out of the bathroom, stopping in the doorway. "I think you should go. Don't try to call me."

He walks out of the bathroom, leaving Axl standing there completely shocked, hurt, and confused. He leaves Slash's house.

Instead of going home, Axl went to the abandoned house he crashed in when things got particularly difficult at home. While he knew Slash and his mom would always welcome them into their home, he never wanted to worry Slash with the abuse he was enduring at home.

Though, now he felt like he couldn't. Slash had actually broken up with him. When he got 'home', he started breaking everything he could, until he passed out from exhaustion.

Slash walked into his room, crying. He sat down on his bed, reaching for a blade.

Who is he?

part 3 (a)

a/n: kinda spoiler but this is just a build up for the next two chapters. the calm before the storm 😈

warnings: im not really sure there are any

part 2

enjoy ★

Slash stares at them. He's not entirely sure how to feel. Axl was sitting on the wall with a black haired, pale, scrawny looking boy. All they were doing was sharing a joint. That's not what bothered him. People share joints all the time. What bothered him was how quickly he seemingly moved on.

Nat looks up at him, "are you okay? She carefully asks. He opens his mouth to answer, but Axl spots him, "shit," he says, a little too calm.

Axl comes over to them, the black haired boy following curiously. "Hey..." Axl says, looking down at the ground. Nat backs away a little. Slash stays quiet. "Uh... haven't seen you around in a while," Axl says, looking at Slash but not making eye contact.

"Been sick," Slash says, shrugging. Axl notices his bandaged wrist, and he immediately grabs it, "shit, what happened?" Slash feels his eyes welling up. He didn't realise how much he actually missed the ginger prick until now. The way he was gently holding his wrist and the concern on his face just like when they were dating.

They finally make eye contact.

They stare at each other silently. It wasn't hate. It wasn't love, it wasn't remorse, it wasn't guilt. It wasn't anything. But it was overwhelmingly all of those things at the same time. Slash breaks the silence after a long while, "who is he?"

Axl drops his wrist and clears his throat, "uh, t-this is Izzy... he moved here last week," Izzy smiles slightly. It was clear he didn't know about Slash and Axl. He was angry. "New friend of yours?" Axl at him with the same amount of rage. The way Slash had put an emphasis on 'friend' meant he knew there was something between the two of them. Both of them were angry with eachother.

Axl smiles angrily, "yep. New... friend."

"Uh, Slash?" Nat chimes in. He looks at her, "what?" She grabs his hand, "my dad... he's waiting for us... come on, you need to eat" Slash sighs and nods, "yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he says, then looks back up at Axl.

Nat has to physically drag him away.

Another few weeks pass. Slash and Axl had done a great job avoiding eachother. Nat was doing everything she could to distract him, and the thing that worked best was talking about her own love life.

It was a Saturday night, Slash was at her place helping her get ready for her date with Michelle.

"How many dates have you been on with this girl?" He asks. "Four" Nat replies, trying to fix her makeup. "Do I get to meet her?" She pauses. "Not yet..." He scoffs, "why not?" She looks at him and frowns, "because I'm not ready to introduce her yet!"

Slash sighs, "yeah, alright. You ready to go?" Nat smiles excitedly, "I think so... I'm really nervous. I might puke." Slash drops Nat off for her date and then he drives back home. On his way, he spots Axl and Izzy sitting in the park.

He grips the steering weel tighter, staring at them angrily. They were simply chatting. Until Axl looked over and saw Slash staring at them.

Suddenly Axl couldn't keep his hands off Izzy, grabbing him, kissing him, holding him. Slash drove off, pretending like he didn't care. Like it wasn't the most painful thing he'd ever experienced.

He drove off into the night, driving around aimlessly.

The Beautiful One / Prince Imagine

Request: Hey, I’m in a bad mood since I was bullied today, can I ask for a fic in which Prince comforts a bullied reader? 

I’m so so sorry this happened today @ladybowiestardust you really don’t deserve it at all and people can just be so mean! But it always does get better and I am always here for you, and if you want me to deal with them, just send me in the right direction!! <333

‘They said…what’

‘Please, Prince, just calm down, you’re literally just off the stage! You’re going to collapse!’

‘They said what to you?’

Prince’s fingernails dig into the leather chair that rests precariously under shaking hands so hard you fear it may leave permanent marks. Your fears are confirmed as his grip suddenly slacks, his fist slamming down onto the vanity table as his lips twitch into a scowl, pausing for a moment to think.

‘Not now, Jerome’, he shouts, whipping his head towards the opening door in dismay, ‘I’m trying to think!’

‘Prince…’, you whisper, unsure of what he was planning.

It was too bright in here. Too bright, it made his head ache. Prince shuts his eyes tightly, wincing slightly in pain as the bright vanity bulbs shine out aggressively, their white beams hitting the former shadows of his skin like hot bullets as sweat begins to lightly trickle down his forehead, curving down past his lips and landing like sick teardrops onto his white cravat, his breathing becoming shallow and rough as it begins to constrict against his command. The dim rays of the lights above bathe the room in blue coldness as his arms begin to shiver, or rather shake, their grip on the oaken table becoming tighter until flashes of pain rip through his knuckles and he can feel the small  droplets of blood ping easily onto the floor as the splinters break his skin. But he doesn’t care. How could anyone dare say that to you, his bright angel, his one true love. And worse, he wasn’t there to protect you. He had been too busy up on stage, twisting his hips and slicking his hair to notice the most beautiful and precious thing was being hurt. It wasn’t it, unless you were right there by his side, and this time he had let you down.

Tapping one sleek platform boot against the floor, the curls of his hair beginning to fall over his swirling chocolate eyes as he finally releases the breath he had been holding in, tilting his head up with a surge of confidence, he surprises you by swinging into action, turning on his heel and strutting his way towards you, each stomp of his heels like a hurricane echoing around the small cream walls. You’re too shocked to move even though you’re afraid he actually might hurt someone if he leaves the room in his irritation and dismay, but as the palm of his hand thumps against the back of the door by your head, holding it shut, you’re overjoyed as he lets his head fall into the curve of your neck. 

Wrapping one slender arm around your waist, he spins the two of you round until the ruffles of his back are pinned against the wall, his fingers splayed over the small dip of your back as he rubs your skin gently, pressing dozens of fervent wet kisses against your forehead, the dip of your cheek, the tip of your nose and ears before his chin finally lands on the top of your head. His necktie is itchy against your cheek as he pulls you tighter against his erratic heart, his chest radiating a comforting heat as you grasp onto the silk material, bunching it familiarly underneath your fingertips as the two of you just stay there, locked together like Lego, just revelling in the comfort the two of you bring each other. The tips of his raven curls tickle against your face, but all you can focus on in that moment was the feeling of his mouth smiling against your head, and the slow circles of his thumbs against your muscles.

‘You’re the only girl in the world I see, y/n, you really think what anyone else says really matters? That you’re the most beautiful one, the one who owns my heart, hmm? It doesn’t matter what they say, y/n, you are beyond perfect the way you are, and they are just beyond jealous. I’m sorry I wasn’t there tonight, but I promise I will be every other one.’

#ilovepaul

On chapter ten of that Freddie fic

Imagine Alice Cooper making cameos (e.g. Alfred Hitchcock) in horror movies

Imagine Alice Cooper and David Bowie writing a rock opera together

Slack is lowkey suck a mood sometimes

Pretty boys ❤️

vomits eighties but, like, Stylishly

【Axl N' Slash ❣】

literally me and her ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

➶♡ @missmaytona POOKY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :333

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Guns N Roses: Dust N' Bones Live | The Ritz 1991

Guns N' Roses - Mr. Brownstone - Live at the ritz 88

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