#norwegian guitarist

[schibborasso]

TERJE RYPDAL, 1967 discography chaser live

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

TWO WAVES WORTH OF FESTERING, STINKING EARLY BLACK METAL.

PIC INFO: L to R -- Spotlight on MAYHEM's Euronymous✝, Tom Angelripper of SODOM, and Necrobutcher, photographed in West Germany, summer 1986. "Best photo I ever took," by Jon Kristiansen, from his 748-page book "METALION: The Slayer Mag Diaries."

Source: www.picuki.com/media/3282952635864484717.

[squeezemylemon]

"Den du veit" - Marius Müller

("The One You Know")

"Miss Squeeze's ABC February" Day 4/28

Marius Müller was widely regarded as one of the greatest Norwegian guitarists of all time, this was probably his biggest hit.

Norwegian lyrics and translation. (The translation may not be the most poetic, but I did my best to at least try to make them passable...)

[deadcryptiid]

Helvete flyer.

(Helvete was a record shop, first opened in June 1991 by the infamous guitarist Euronymous. The term helvete is Norwegian for “hell,” and comes from the Norse hels víti, translating to “hell’s punishment.)

[bbitess]

goth and metal prt 1-eurory x f!reader (use of y/n)

brothers best friend‼️ (euro is 19 in a high school type band, reader is a senior) idk how norwegian school works sorry

warnings‼️ smut, drinking and drugs, making out, ass slapping, fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v, gagging, creampie, the L-word, a meer couple sentences that have just a wee bit of degration and exibitionism

(this is based off sum random pic i saw on here and my love for my bauhaus vinyls and obsession w my set up 💪)

thank you all for being so sweet frrr, i’ve been an anonymous rory lover and all of these fics are from the archive of my notes app over the past few months :)

Y/N is jan axels sister who doesn’t listen to much metal music, she’s more into gothic music. her brother had two friends he started a band with, she only knew the guitarist, oystein, since he was jan’s friend for a while. she stayed upstairs most of the time but around 9 she got sick of all the noise and decided to go downstairs.

As she approached the basement the music grew louder. she opened the door and the music stopped, all of their eyes hit her, making her feel a little embarrassed in her sleep shorts and a sweater.

“jan, can you keep it down or like, idk go somewhere else becuase i am just trying to have some peace of mind…”

the other members looked at jan who said “yeah, yeah we are almost done.”

“thank you” Y/N said leaving and going back upstairs.

“you really let your little sister boss you around like that?” oystein asked, he was a long time family friend and he knew Y/N for a while. they were friends when they were younger but he just kind of changed. “she’s not bossing me around, i just respect her, i mean, she usually is tolerant when we practice at my place.”

oystein looked pretended to be offended “what do you mean tolerant? she should be moved by my amazing guitar skill.” the bassist snickered, “in your dreams” jan replied, making oystein blush a little and the chuckles to grow louder.

oystein sighed and set down his guitar, “im getting a drink,” he states plainly before running up the stairs. he goes to the fridge and retrieves a cold glass of beer. when he closes the fridge door he finally noticed Y/N is also in the kitchen. she is reaching up high to grab a mug from the top shelf but she couldn’t seem to reach it. the sweater she was wearing rode up on her torso, exposing her flat stomach and thin waist which contrasted her full behind, the shorts hugging them well, leaving little room for the imagination. oystein shuttered, he couldn’t tell if it was because he was seeing his childhood best friends little sister all grown up, or because he was overflowing with desire. he will admit it, he has longed for her for at least a decade but nothing ever came of it. she was out of his league and off limits because of her brother, they had hung out a lot as friends but,

(a/n: idk why but when i wrote this i made the back story from euros first person, idk just imagine culkin like narrating idek, good luck.)

“i knew jan protected her with his life. one day when jan and i were in our last year of secondary school, about to graduate, i actually told him how i was feeling. that was unusual to say the least, we didn’t put our emotions into words very often. i told him how i wanted to ask his sister to the prom and how she had caught my eye in the past. he seemed suspicious and hesitant but eventually got the idea and gave me his blessing. i went to the store to get flowers, but they were sold out, i didn’t want to spend gas going to a different store so I just went home. but after that i lost hope, i never went to get the flowers or ask Y/N to prom, i guess i got caught up in the senior work and eventually i graduated, and now i only see her when im at jan’s.”

(okay it’s over, back to third person <3)

he pulled his eyes away and searched for a bottle opener but couldn’t seem to find one anywhere. he held the bottle up to Y/N and she nodded, she swiftly grabbed a spoon. oystein had his hand by the cap and had the bottle set on the table so she swiftly held his hand in place with one hand and with the other, used the spoon to open the bottle. oystein flinched and shook his hand, Y/N laughed, “it didn’t hurt that bad! and look your bottle is open,” oystein just smiled a little, and Y/N almost melted, his smile was beautiful but he never wore it. “you should smile more.” she she stated facing him. oysteins smile dropped almost immediately but the blush stayed on his cheeks and he reddened as Y/N inched closer to his face.

“you look nice when you smile,” she says, beaming and brushing a stand of his hair behind his ear smoothly. she walked away, giving oystein a second to breathe and hide the massive boner inside his pants. Y/N had abandoned the mug and grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and opened it. “aren’t you too young to drink, Y/N?” oystein asked, he was 19 but not that new to alcohol. “no” she replied, “well, yes and no…” she said taking a hearty sip. “how old are you these days?” oystein asked slyly, Y/N replied with her honest age, “i’m graduating in a couple months.” “wow, you are mature beyond your years…” oystein states, smiling. “maybe you are just behind,” Y/N laughs and then drinks more. they are both about halfway done but the weather was kind of nice out. it was a summer dusk so Y/N and oystein went outside to finish beers and while they were out there, oystein couldn’t help but retrieve a rolled blunt from his pocket.

Y/N was a little nervous because they think smoking weed with someone is very vulnerable but they agreed to oystein and they smoked the joint. “i’ve always wanted to do this with you…” oystein admits, “do what?” she laughs, “idk, smoking together, drinking, talking, anything… i’ve always wanted to know you better.” she looks down, “i wanted to know you to, but you always seemed to push me away when i got to close, you never opened up to me after middle school you know…” oystein feels devastated a little hurt hearing this, he keeps smoking. “i’m so sorry if i made you feel unappreciated, Y/N. i really liked you, like really really liked you,” he chuckles. “i promise,” she smiles, still looking down, “really?” she asks. he goes on, “really! you know i was going to ask you to my prom last year, gosh i remember like it was yesterday. i asked your brother for his permission, it was the scariest shit i’ve ever done. and i was going to ask you but the store was sold out of flowers and i guess i just psyched myself out…” he admits, kind of laughing at the story.

Y/N is surprised since he never talks about his feelings this deeply. “wow, i never knew. why did you get psyched out?”

“i don’t know, you were almost two years younger than me but i was a nobody at that school. you were pretty and had good friends and were nice to everyone. i figured another lucky guy had already asked you, i wouldn’t want it make it weird.”

“wow, oystein i wish you told me, i would have gone with you.” Y/N said, he was kind of in disbelief at that.

Y/N smokes the blunt and smiles, content with oysteins confession, “i forgive you, cheers…” she says and holds up the bottle, “cheers to what?” oystein questions. “cheers to confession…” she laughs and they clink the bottles. “i confess that i really liked you too, well before you slammed the door on your emotions… but i know the oystein i knew is still in there.” Y/N says, seriously, almost in a stern tone. oystein was frozen for a moments time but in that moment he felt like he had gained the wisdom of centuries.

oystein finished the blunt and tossed it, and that quickly he grabbed her jaw and pressed his lips to hers for their long awaited kiss. their lips locked together, so perfectly they thought they would get stuck and never pull away. oystein even ran his tounge over her lips, meeting her in the middle when she got brave enough to try a french kiss. she was a little hesitant kissing someone she had known for so long, it almost felt wrong, but also so so right. her hands tangled in his wild hair and he held the back of her neck, his other hand subconsciously creeping up Y/N’s soft thighs.

after another moment which seemed like centuries, they pulled away catching their breath. they began to arrange their clothes and hair back to normal. “oystein?” Y/N asks, “yes?” “does this mean… that you still you know, like me?” oystein blushes “what makes you think that??” he states quickly. “well, you just kissed me like your in love, and… it’s just- also, i could see your boner the whole time.” Y/N admits, oystein was flustered but they laughed it off, his icy eyes locked on hers and he promised-not said, promised, “the second I laid eyes on you I was yours, yes, Y/N, I do like you.” she smiled and put herself in his arms, “good, i like guys who like me…” and then they both started laughing in each others arms like they used to.

“i have to get back,” oystein says getting up and holding the door back into the house open for Y/N but they eventually speak, “have fun with your death metal,” Y/N says, “its black metal, norwegian black metal…” oystein says smiling, “either way, my bauhaus vinyl is easier on the ears.” she smiles. “well maybe i’ll come up to your chamber and we can listen to it together, how does that sound?” he asks, she responds quickly, “grood… i meant to say great and good, i’m sorry i-.” he had already walked away thinking about how was he going to get rid of this raging boner.

later in the night, the guys had packed up their things, oystein was the last to leave, “hey do you want to stick around and watch a movie or something?” jan asked oystein, “umm, no” he remembered he promised he would go to his sisters room, “sorry man i’m just tired, see you.” and oystein quickly left with his guitar case and pretended to be going out the door but in reality he went to the next floor and knocked on Y/N’s door.

she had been waiting patiently for oystein to come upstairs and when he knocked she started the bauhaus vinyl, hoping he would be impressed with her music taste.

when Y/N opened the door oysteins jaw dropped, she had changed from her pajamas and into a lacey black top and thong that was covered by a sheer robe, tied around her small waist. he couldn’t believe it, she looked so different, so beautiful and enticing, he didn’t know what to say.

“does jan know you are here?” Y/N questioned, oystein shook his head, still in disbelief, “um- can i come in?”

she let him in and he sat on the end of her bed which also was the best place to listen to the vinyl. “do you like it?” Y/N asks. “yes” oystein says smiling, he puts his hands on her waist and begins to inch upwards towards the lacey bra, his hands still over the robe. “i think it’s really sexy…” oystein says continuing, “no,” Y/N laughs taking his hands in her own and interlocking them. “i meant the vinyl, oystein.”

oystein blushed from embarrassment and arousal, “oh- yes that’s really good too.” he nods. she laughs.

she leans into him and their lips meet, his hands returning to her body as the kiss intensified. she reached under his shirt, he felt electrified when she touched his skin and peeled his shirt over his head, quickly reattaching their lips.

the gothic music blasted through the speakers, him still sitting on the bed, she backed away and he bathed in all her glory. she gave him a small tease, untieing the robe and slowly peeling it off her body, revealing her smooth pale skin that shined in the moonlight flowing through the window. the black lingerie contrasted her complexion and he had a sudden urge to strip it off her.

oystein stood from the bed quickly, pulling her in for another kiss, rubbing his large ringed fingers up and down her torso, he reached behind her back and unclipped the bra, letting out a sigh. he pulled it off her, staring for a second at her chest before grabbing her in his hands and fondling her breasts in his hands. “you are so beautiful, god you have no idea what this does to me.”

Y/N moaned at his words which only encouraged him, he latched to her neck and slurped at it like a vampire, letting his teeth graze her soft skin before sucking a hickey onto her throat. “sorry babe, your brother might get mad about that…”

she sighed, “forget about him.” she said, running her hands into his hair. he moved his lips down her body to her chest and began to suckle and kiss her breasts, Y/N continued moaning as she held his face to her, he bit down a little on her nipple causing her to flinch a little and pull oystein by the hair, but he just let out a low moan and the vibrations ran from his teeth to her bud, making her pussy wetter every second. she had to hold on to the desk so she wouldn’t collapse right there.

he got down to his knees, leaving a trail of kisses down her torso. his ringed fingers pulled down her thong effortlessly. he stared at her, but then slid his finger through the folds and penetrated her hole. Y/N let out a lewd noise but oystein didn’t stop, he kept fingering her, making her moan harder and her legs feel like jelly. oystein placed a hard smack on her asscheek and then brought his lips to the clit, kissing and then sucking on it. she felt close already. “oystein!! i’m gonna- please i’m going to cum”

oystein was suprised that she was going to cum this fast but her pussy leaked all over his hand and he lapped the juices up with his tounge. he stood up and pulled her into a kiss, her cum mingling between their lips, and right then, she came on his fingers- hard, his hand was still on her ass and it held her up since her knees had completely buckled under her.

oystein took down his pants and boxers swiftly, Y/N was suprised at his length, “oystein, that won’t fit!” “i’ll be careful baby” he replies. while he took his pants off Y/N flipped the vinyl which is very important. then he was ready. he took her by the waist and pressed her back to his chest, his hard member pressed between her legs, precum was oozing from the tip of his cock. oystein sat back in the bed, right between the speakers and set Y/N on top of him, spreading her legs. “are you ready?” oystein asks gruffly in her ear, nibbling at the lobe. she nodded and he groaned and his cock twitched between her legs so she wasted no time and grabbed it. she pumped it a few times, lubing it with pre cum and her pussy juices. then she pushed him into her, his cock filled her to the brim. “oh my god,” she muttered, he continued pushing in, inch by inch. she didn’t know if she could take the feeling at first. oystein wrapped his arm around Y/N and grabbed her tit roughly, he began moving her up and down his length. “you are doing so good.” oystein praised as he began to speed up, pounding into her messy cunt. she began to moan louder, over come by the feeling. “let me hear you,” oystein says, “they can’t hear you over the music, unless you want them to you little slut.” he laughs, “yeah, i bet you would like that, if your brother came up here and walked in on his best friend pounding his innocent little virgin sister.” Y/N couldn’t respond more than pornographic moans. “i’m-im” she utters, “oystein, cum-“ she speaks and has and orgasm on oysteins cock. he reaches his other hand around her and puts his fingers deep in her throat, pulling her down on him roughly. she was gagged and fucked into oblivion, his hand squeezing her chest. her moans echoing louding through the room with bauhaus music.

oystein finished inside her, he grunted and spurted cum though her. she was oozing and when he pulled out she sighed roughly and let cum drip and bubble from her hole. oystein left a harsh slap on her ass, almost squeezing it like he was milking her pussy. the whole time serenading her with compliments and love that he had for her. “you did so good, baby, god if i knew that pussy was so good i would have gotten it in grade school.” kissing her neck.

then he left, getting a washcloth from her bathroom to clean them. he got dressed and she pulled on the robe, “are you leaving?” Y/N asks, “i’m sorry- i thought that’s what you wanted, i mean, i would have to leave early tomorrow.” oystein responds. “that’s okay,” Y/N says, “do you want to spend the night?”

oystein couldn’t believe it, it’s not like he had never slept over in the house before, he had hundreds of times, but never in your bed. he nodded and got into the bed. they kissed a couple times before he pushed her hair back and stated, “i love you,” it seemed early but they really did love eachother, and they had for years. she blushed and tried to cover her smile with her hand. “i love you, too, oystein, i never stopped once.” she states, cuddling up into oysteins chest and falling asleep.

(prt 2 here)

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Love Songs and Shit (Extended Masterpost)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x YN

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Fluff, Smut (honestly it varies depending on the chapter)

Wordcount: if only I knew...

Plot: YN is a popular American singer-songwriter who, on a rainy evening in 2018, crossed path with the members of Greta Van Fleet. It didn't take long for the usually detached and fiercely independent girl to experience an unfamiliar itch. As she put pen to paper, it seemed a certain long-haired guitarist had her thinking about writing love songs and shit.

Concept: Each Album is a period of YN's journey, each track is a song she wrote after a specific chapter, so basically her discography is a chronological story of her life (with Jake, mostly). I'm currently not posting chapters in chronological order, but everything is organized in chronological order on this Masterpost.

Disclaimer: All the album covers are paintings by Norwegian painter Henrik Aarrestad Uldalen I edited. So, credit to that guy.

Also some chapters may involve triggering themes, I'll add the specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Stay safe, besties.

(PREQUEL)Debut Album: "Remain Nameless" => NOT YET STARTED

Old Money

Seven

Blue Velvet

Lost at Sea

Bel Air

South London Forever

This is what makes us girls

Dollhouse

All-American Bitch

Hope There’s Someone

Grace

idontwannabeyouanymore

Remain Nameless

Brutal

Rabbit Heart

National Anthem

2nd Album: "Sweet Nothings" => NOT YET STARTED

The Night We Met

Ride

Lover to Lover

Body Electric

Moves

Hiding

Hope is a Dangerous thing for me to have

Love Song

Sweet nothings

3rd Album: "Let the Light In" => NOT YET STARTED

Wildest dreams

All the girls you've loved before

Cornelia street

How Big, How blue, How beautiful

Dress

Love

Always Remember Us This Way

Let the Light In

Lover

4th Album: "How to Disappear" => NOT YET STARTED

The Next Best American Record

King

Brooklyn Baby

How to Disappear

Mariners Apartment Complex

Norman Fucking Rockwell

Watercolor Eyes

Sky Full of Song

One step forward, three steps back

Out of the woods

5th Album: "The Greatest" => NOT YET STARTED

Happiness is a Butterfly

Swan song

Too Good at Goodbyes

Favorite Crime

You're Losing Me

Without You

The Greatest

6th album: "Long & Lost" => IN PROGRESS

Hits Different (coming soon..)

Now that we don’t talk

Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Long & Lost (coming next)

Is it over Now? (coming soon..)

All This and Heaven Too

7th Album: "St Jude" => DONE

California

Secrets from a Girl

Style

The Way I loved You

St Jude

All You Had to do Was Stay

Honeymoon

Happier than ever

8th Album: "The End of Love" => ON HIATUS

The Bomb

Prayer Factory

River

All too well

Caught

Stargirl Interlude

Getaway car

Angels like you

Various Storms and Saints

Leave my Body

Cassandra

The End of Love

9th Album: "Dream Girl Evil" => NOT YET STARTED

Carmen

A&W

Hometown Glory

Dream Girl Evil

Swimming

Restraint

Sober

Sober II

Heaven Is Here

June

God knows I tried

Never Let Me Go

(SEQUEL) 10th Album: "Margaret" => NOT YET STARTED

Morning Elvis

Girls against God

Mama who bore me

Patricia

Did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean boulevard?

Kitsungi

Back in Town

I Drink Wine

Back to December

Margaret

[roryzlittles1ut]

Backstage Pass: R!Euronymous X Fem! Reader.

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Warnings: Protected Sex, Fingering, Mixture of Gentle and Rough Sex, Mentions of smoking/drugs, Dom!R!Euronymous, Sub!Reader, Mentions of Drinking, Slight Manipulation (idk if imma add this ngl).

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Your friends dragged you to a Mayhem concert, though you weren’t really into metal. You were a tiny bit annoyed, as your friends acted like wild animals. Everyone was screaming, head banging, smoking, drinking, doing drugs, some even secretly having sex. You rolled your eyes as the metal band slowly emerged from backstage. One of the members really caught your eyes though, Øystein Aarseth, the leader of the band, and the lead guitarist.

“Alright, settle the fuck down. You guys ready to hear some true, Norwegian, black, fucking metal?” He yelled, the whole crowd screaming loudly. You stared at him, feeling so flustered as you lost words. He glanced down at the crowd and noticed you. He started playing his loud music as the singer, Pelle growled in the microphone. You didn’t care about anyone else, just him.

Øystein continued to play the guitar as the music got louder, almost making your ears bleed. It didn’t bother you at all, all of your attention was on him, just him. He winked at you as he slowly approached you, getting on one knee, but still playing his guitar loudly. “What? Never seen a metal head before?” His voice was deep as his blue eyes sank into your eyes.

You blushed as you tried to figure out the right words to say. He smirked slightly and grabbed your chin, his thumb caressing your soft skin. He tilted his head to the side as the light glared on his face paint, making it noticeable that it was coming off. “I-I..it’s not that. I’ve just never been to a concert before.” You said shyly, not knowing how to exactly react. He chuckled and got back up on his feet, walking away as he played the guitar again.

You felt weak in the knees. Your friends squealed at the whole band, saying how bad they wanted to fuck one of them, even Øystein. You shook your head and looked away. Then, after the concert, a security guard walked up to you. “Hey, Miss. Mr. Aarseth wants to see you backstage, he says it’s important.” Of course you couldn’t miss this opportunity, so you followed the security guard backstage.

Once you guys reached backstage, he was sitting on the couch in a manspread manner. The security guard walked away, closing the door. Øystein got up as you stayed quiet. He grabbed your cheeks with his rough, veiny hands as he stared into your eyes. “Oh..you look like a little princess who needs help, or maybe something else.”

Your eyes went wide as you blushed, feeling him pull you closer to him. He chuckled a bit in amusement. “Did that get your attention or something? You stupid whore. All of you girls are the same, but you seem..a bit different.” He brushed some hair out of your face with his index and middle finger, being gentle with you. It was prettty odd, but you did like his touch. “What do you want? You’re the one who invited me here.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words, then he let go of you. “Alright..I want a little favor from you.” He whispered into your ear, giving it a soft kiss as he slowly plopped back on the couch. He sat back in his manspread way, staring at you up and down. “What?” You said, a little nervously though. He sighed softly and looked away, shaking his head.

“No, seriously. What is it? Because I could really be heading home now.” You crossed your arms, staring at him. Øystein slowly brought his eyes back up to yours. He pinned you against the wall and started taking off your clothes. “Be a good girl..” Your eyes widened slightly as you blushed.

As he took off your clothes, he pushed you back onto the sofa, taking off your panties. He leaned in and started demolishing your pussy, nuzzling aggressively into it. You can feel his nose against your clit, making you moan loudly out of ecstasy. His tongue made you see stars as he swirled his tongue around your aching, wet pussy. You also didn’t expect him to just do this to you so fast. He seemed so desperate.

You placed your hand in his hair, your fingers getting tangled in it. He grabbed you from underneath your thighs, picking you up as he plopped down on the couch. He still had your pussy pressed up against his mouth, but now you were sitting on his face. He roughly slapped your ass, making you let out a squeak. “Never been eaten out by a metal head hm? How does it feel you fucking dirty girl?”

You whined softly and squirmed, no words coming out. It felt so good, too good. He pulled away from your clit and looked up into your eyes, shoving his middle and ring finger inside of you. You gasped again, your eyes widening. “Oh my gosh!” You whined again. He chuckled as he felt how wet you were, moving his fingers in and out of you roughly. “Mm..so wet. You’re just aching for my cock.”

He stopped and shoved his fingers in your mouth. “Come on, be good and taste yourself.” His eyes were locked into your deeply. You sucked on his fingers. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and took off his pants and boxers, his cock sprung out of his pants. You gasped, not expecting him to be so huge. He shoved one finger inside of your pussy as he leaned in, sloppily making out with you.

“I want this so bad, I want you so bad. You looked so lost and pathetic in the crowd. I could’ve gotten off stage and fucked you right there.” He whispered into the kiss, moving his hand a bit faster. You whimpered, blushing so much as you felt close to your orgasm. He felt you clench against his fingers before pulling out. “No no, not yet. I need to have my cock inside of you when you cum.”

He stroked himself for a quick second as he grabbed a condom, putting it on before placing you down on the sofa. He shoved himself in your tight heat, making him groan. “Oh fuck. You’re so tight.” He thrusted into you in a slow, steady manner, placing his hands on your waist. He grabbed a cigarette from the table in front of the sofa and lit it with his lighter, tossing the lighter to the floor. He took a drag, starting to fuck you a bit harder and faster.

You squealed as you felt him arrange your insides. You felt a bit flustered, and he loved it. He groaned, fucking you harder. You started tearing up a bit, and Øystein noticed. He tilted his head to the side and slowed down. “Can’t take it anymore? Aw, you’ll get used to it.” He smiled a bit and took another drag of his cigarette, starting to slowly move a bit faster. He let out a grunt as you let out a whimper.

He tossed his cigarette aside, squeezing your breasts roughly. “So fucking fluffy and smooth. Like that?” He smiled and kissed your neck before kissing your forehead. “I-I’m gonna cum~..” You murmur shyly, gasping for air. That just fueled the fire. He moved harder and rougher. “Then..cum for me. Be a good girl.” He moaned into your ear, letting out a soft chuckle. He lifted you up and placed you on top of him, squeezing your ass as he fucked you with no mercy.

You moaned loudly, making him cover your mouth. “Shh, the rest of the guys are here. I know you love being fucked by me, but don’t be so loud.” You nod quickly, whimpering into his hand. You were so close to your orgasm again, your eyes rolling back. He wrapped another hand around your waist, moaning in a quiet manner. Then, it hit you hard. He our orgasm made you do star struck. You almost screamed, but he held your mouth tighter.

“Shh, shh, good girl, good fucking girl.” He chuckled and kissed your forehead, slowly pulling out. He gently placed you back down on the couch, taking off his condom and putting his pants back on. “I’ll take you home, don’t worry.” He smiled a bit and played with your hair. It was like he completely forgot he just fucked your brains out, as you slowly fell asleep.

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AN: I know it’s been so long, but I have lost almost all of my motivation and decided to get it over with. It’s kind of like the Mike story, and this is pretty rushed so, I hope you..enjoy at least :3

[princess-lvcifer]

new year's eve

euro/dead • +4K • CW: smut (T!P x B!Ø), emotional hurt/comfort, implied alcohol and self-harm 🇪🇸 ao3

It had been a couple of hours since New Year's Eve, and Øystein was lying in a bed that wasn't his trying to process everything: the year, the night, his feelings for the person next to him trying to sleep in handcuffs... He didn't want the feeling to go any further, but he didn't want him to go away from him in any way. He wanted the year that had just arrived to be a good one and not to take him away from him, and to be with him for many more.

"I'm cold," the blond beside him said annoyed, snapping him out of his thoughts and making him turn his neck to his right to look at him, though he could barely see anything.

"You're Swedish," he said as he noticed him turn to his side and curl into a ball, face to face in the dark.

"And you're Norwegian, so?" This amused the guitarist, eliciting a sly grin and a snort through his nose as he turned to get into the same position. "Go ask for another blanket."

"Metalion will be asleep by now, I don't want to wake him," he replied.

"Then there's nothing left to do but pull your insides out to warm you up like in The Empire strikes back," Pelle joked not knowing that the guitarist wouldn't mind being destroyed by him in any way he could, just to make him happy.

"What if I just hug you?" he asked moving closer, putting his arm under his head so that he could use it as a pillow while he used his own hand. With his other arm he put his arm around him and even dared to stroke his back a little.

Pelle was a little surprised by such a gesture, almost freezing for a few seconds trying to process the moment because he wasn't used to physical contact, but it felt good and less cold, so he let it be and even made himself comfortable by intertwining their legs. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. The blond's nose brushed against his neck, and he could feel his breath. He wasn't the only one who could feel something, as Pelle could feel his heartbeat against his hands, close to his chest without being able to take them anywhere else.

But the heat was warming them both up, and the night and the alcohol didn't help because it made everyone feel too warm and secure.

"Øystein," he whispered to check if he was still awake after a few minutes.

"Mm?"

"Can I bite your neck? I want to know what it feels like," he added quickly not wanting to sound too weird, but he felt he was being provoked by having his neck so close. If the guitarist expressed discomfort in any way he would excuse himself by saying he was joking, lying.

For a second Øystein thought he was dreaming, that maybe he didn't remember that he'd had too much to drink and had ended up in a drunken coma. It all seemed too good to be true, he couldn't believe it. It was surreal enough that he'd ended up sharing a tiny bed with him, and that they'd ended up cuddling in the cold, without adding that to it. He knew there was most likely no ulterior motive behind such a request, and that maybe he should stop it as he wasn't quite himself because of the alcohol and blood loss from the cuts he'd given himself earlier, but he'd been drinking alcohol too, so he couldn't help but be equally sincere.

"Yes," he answered quickly but trying as hard as he could to hide the fact that he wanted that and much more, "but don't hurt me," he added knowing how his friend was fascinated by blood, not wanting to get hurt and above all not wanting to stain more sheets with blood.

"Relax, I'll be gentle," he said as he brought his hands wrapped around the collar of his shirt before slowly planting small kisses on his neck, testing the ground before deciding where to bite him.

At those words and such an action Øystein couldn't help but blush, opening his eyes like vinyl records and staring into the dark nothingness as he noticed his lips up and down, and he could even swear he could notice a small smile. Then, at last, Pelle opened his mouth and dug his teeth into his flesh. At first he did it with no force and he could even feel his tongue retract, but then he pressed harder and caused the guitarist to let out a small moan that embarrassed him, but to his luck Pelle ignored it. What he didn't know was that he liked that and it provoked him even more, causing him to bite him on other parts of his neck.

The atmosphere warmed up, the cold was long gone. They were too excited and both could feel it, in their own bodies and in each other's bodies. Needing more and almost without thinking Øystein put his hands on the blond's cheeks and bent down to kiss him now, on the lips. At first it was a shy and awkward peak as it was the Swede's first kiss and it caught him by surprise, but he quickly gave him to understand that he didn't dislike it and played along until their tongues were deep inside each other. When they broke apart for lack of air Pelle bit him and stretched his lip, teasing him but making him laugh quietly.

Then the guitarist got up and sat on his crotch, and though he could barely see anything, he could swear Pelle smiled — or at least he wanted to believe he smiled, the same way he did. He leaned over him as he rested his hands on his chest and slid them down to his shoulders, bringing their torsos and crotches together to kiss him on the lips and neck as the blond had done to him earlier.

If he hadn't been handcuffed he probably would have grabbed his hips or buttocks, he had to settle for draping his arms over his head. The guitarist felt the cold metal chain of the handcuffs on the back of his neck, pushing him down, but he didn't care because he didn't want to be separated from the vocalist's lips, who was trying to move his hips to brush against his erect crotch. Well pleased, Øystein decided to whisper in his ear:

"Can I touch you?" he asked, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I promise I'll make you feel very good."

"Yeah," he answered quickly, and as needy as he was.

He sat back up and adjusted himself, pulling down both their trousers and pants. He warmed his hand by rubbing them together and spitting saliva into his dominant hand before he began to massage his member, feeling it so close for the first time — feeling even his veins as he massaged it from bottom to top slowly at first, and tightening his grip when he reached its tip.

But masturbating is as boring as it is tiring, and Øystein also needed satisfaction and rubbing, so he settled back to sitting on top of his crotch, bringing their penises together at the bottom of both of them, the most sensitive part. He put his hands on his abdomen, grabbing his shirt; and then he began to move his hips rhythmically.

"You look like a dog in heat, rubbing yourself against me like that," he said with a certain mocking tone, but not maliciously.

"Better than a cat, isn't it?" he asked playfully.

He wished they were with the light on so he could see Pelle's facial expression, so he could know if he was doing it right and behold his beauty. And he wished they were alone so they could make noise and try to go further.

"Fuck, I want your hands on me and to feel you from the inside..." He dared to moan in a whisper, and to his surprise, the Swede brought his cuffed hands over his and said:

"There is a way you can feel me from the inside" and he was right. He didn't want to let go of his hands, but he wanted to satisfy him and time was rewarding, so he let go and slid back into the sheets.

He grabbed his cock again and masturbated it a little as he wet his lips with his tongue, still not processing what he was about to do once and for all. He had imagined it many times, and didn't think he'd ever get to do it for real at some point. With the tip of his tongue he brushed from the lowest to the highest, causing the blond to shiver and his breathing to quicken even more. When he reached the tip he sucked it like a lollipop, causing the blond to stifle a moan at such pleasure he had never felt before and bringing his hands to the brunet's head, grabbing his hair and pushing his head down wanting to feel more. That satisfied Øystein as it showed he was liking what he was doing to him, but he also felt nervous as he didn't know if his mouth was big enough to fit his entire member inside him. Putting that aside, he dropped saliva which he collected in his mouth to moisten it, so that his lips would slide in better. When he opened his mouth he slowly pushed his member in, and Pelle clung tighter to him. He tried to give him as much pleasure as he could with everything his mouth had to offer, except his teeth. When he got tired, which was often due to lack of practice, he went back to massaging it with his hand.

"I'm going to cum Øystein," he moaned clutching his hair even tighter as he was giving him oral sex again. That was music to the Norwegian's ears, his new favourite style of music now that he had finally heard it.

"Cum in my mouth," he said at one point pulling his member out of his mouth as he masturbated him, wanting to answer him as he didn't want to stain the sheets leaving evidence of what they had done — but for better or worse, Pelle couldn't help but cum before he could merge their bodies back together (though technically he did cum in his mouth as some of his semen jumped to his lips, and he wiped it off by running his tongue over it). Wanting to avoid staining the sheets but still wanting to satisfy him, he just kept masturbating his tip with his hand, capturing his cum inside his palm as he listened to him sigh deeply.

When the room fell silent again he knew he was done. Wanting to clean himself up and finish satisfying himself, he clumsily climbed out of bed. When he landed his feet on the floor his legs trembled a little, from the change of position and the fatigue of sitting spread-eagled. He pulled up his pants and trousers, went to the door and opened it slowly and quietly, opening it a little to peek in and see if anyone was there: as he suspected, there was no one in the hallway and no light was coming from the other rooms. He went to the bathroom on the floor he was in, using his left arm as a blind man's stick, and when he got there he locked himself in without turning on the light, not wanting to attract anyone's attention or disturb his eyes.

Once there he pulled down his pants and trousers again, carefully took toilet paper and still with his dominant hand full of his Swedish friend's semen he started to masturbate himself in the same way he masturbated him, imagining he was doing it until he cummed on the paper which he threw in the trash. He would have preferred to flush it down the toilet and flush it away for good and leave no evidence, but he preferred not to make any noise if it wasn't absolutely necessary, and probably neither Metalion nor his parents would be looking at the little bin in that bathroom with a magnifying glass. Then he poured soap on his hands and turned on the tap, running a thin trickle of water to wash them, then wiped them on the hand towel and finally went back into the room.

"Did I do well?" he asked once he was back in bed, with both of them staring at the dark ceiling.

"You ask as if I were an expert."

"Right," laughed Øystein quietly, and also very tired. How could he not be tired at that time of the morning and after drinking alcohol, having sex and cumming?

They cuddled up again and there wasn't much more to say. They didn't have time to process what they had just done either, as they were so exhausted that they fell asleep quickly, not noticing how their eyes were closing.

The next morning it was the guitarist who woke up first. He was bored and wanted to eat breakfast and take an Ibuprofen for the hangover, but he didn't want to wake Pelle up so he just stared at his back in silence (as there was finally some light in the room, coming in through the window), waiting patiently for him to wake up while he remembered what happened the night before and wondered what his relationship with him would be like from then on. He couldn't help but get a little excited.

Figuring out that Pelle had woken up wasn't difficult, his breathing changed a lot but he still looked like he was sleeping because he acted like he was. Øystein thought that maybe he acted like that thinking he was sleeping and not wanting to wake him up if he was, like him.

"Good morning," he said daring to hug him from behind, even though he was smaller.

"Good morning," he replied as he pulled away from him and got out of bed to go to the door, not even looking at him for a second.

Øystein was a bit puzzled, but thought that maybe it was just his imagination, that he was simply in a hurry to go to the bathroom to relieve himself and/or have breakfast. He followed, there was no point in staying in bed alone.

When they went down to the first floor of the house they saw that they weren't the only ones awake and they all had breakfast together around the living room table with the TV on (although without paying much attention to it because they were just awake and hungover). Metalion handed out Ibuprofen like bingo cards and they waited for it to take effect as quickly as the coffees they drank. Øystein thought he might have to help Pelle eat breakfast, considering his hands were cuffed, but he managed fine on his own. What he did help him with was changing the bandages on his arms and re-disinfecting his cuts in the bathroom while the others cleaned the house.

"Yeah, yeah," the guitarist whispered after the vocalist winced and grunted in annoyance at the stinging the Betadine was causing in his wounds, trying to calm him down and let him see that he understood it wasn't a pleasant sensation. The scene was not pleasant for him either, and it was worse to see him self-harming.

He silently bandaged his arms with great care, as if they were made of porcelain and about to break. When he was done Pelle whispered a small "Thank you" and there was nothing more to say, like last night. The Swede was the first to leave the bathroom, almost seeming to be in a hurry. At no point in the morning did he look him in the face, and though he knew he was shy and found it hard to do such a thing, it didn't happen with him being close. He knew he was tense, and that he was running away from him for some reason. Øystein looked at himself in the mirror, searching for evidence of the crime on his neck — luckily for him there was none as Pelle didn't bite him too hard the night before, the only evidence he had was his memories and his groin pain.

When they left they didn't go straight to their house, they went to a police station to have the handcuffs removed, as they didn't have a key. Luckily they didn't have to wait long to be attended to, nor did they have to give many detailed explanations, nor did the policemen see the state of Pelle's arms as he was wearing a black leather jacket.

The car rides were silent, oblivious to the metal music playing in the background while Øystein drove and Pelle looked out of the passenger seat window, fist to his cheek.

And then they finally arrived home. No one was there, they were alone at last, but still the Swede locked himself in his room. The Norwegian didn't want to take it personally, he knew that after being surrounded by people he needed to recharge his social battery by being alone and that he was probably still tired. He locked himself in his room to write letters and a few hours later Jan and Jørn arrived.

Although he didn't want to accept it because he was very positive as the hours passed and the more they were forced to interact by living together, he realised that he was probably the problem, and that made him nervous and desperate. He didn't know what he had done to make him uncomfortable, he didn't know what was the straw that broke the camel's back — he didn't know what was going through the Swede's mind, he didn't know what he thought of him or whether he was angry or disappointed.

On the evening of the second day of January all the members of Mayhem were in the living room, relaxing watching a movie on TV after eating leftovers they had brought home for dinner, and the moment that made them both most uncomfortable came: a sex scene, and to top it off, it was between a blond boy being mounted by a girl with long black hair.

"I want your hands on me," moaned the girl in the film as she grabbed the boy's hands and put them on her breasts.

"You're fucking joking," thought Øystein as he swallowed nervously, but a sudden movement he saw out of the corner of his eye caught his attention as well as an all too familiar voice.

"Good night," said Pelle as he got up from the sofa and headed for his bedroom.

"Enjoy the handjob," Jan said matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off the screen.

He sighed deeply as he watched the Swede's back as he headed for the stairs to the first floor, knowing that he didn't want to keep things so tense with him and that he had to do something about it. If Pelle wouldn't go to him, he would have to go to Pelle. And that's what he did as soon as the two of them were alone in the house.

As soon as he approached the open door of his room he saw him lying on his bed (or rather, filthy mattress) staring at a fixed point on the ceiling, though he wasn't disassociating with a blank stare. He knocked on the door to let him know he was there, and with permission to enter.

"We need to talk," he said approaching him, ignoring the mess that was in many ways the room — he was used to that and many other things. Pelle didn't answer, didn't even look at him and tried to ignore him as he took the liberty of sitting cross-legged in front of the mattress to the right of his head. "I know you're uncomfortable," he began to speak crestfallen and looking at the floor, this time he was the one avoiding eye contact, "and I know I'm to blame..." He paused and sighed deeply, trying to find the right words even though he thought about it time before, but with his nerves they left his mind. "I don't know what made you uncomfortable but I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention. I don't want to make excuses but I was drunk and horny, and I like you," Pelle finally reacted the instant he heard that confession opening his eyes like vinyl records, turning his neck to his right to look at him and getting up to sit in the same position as the guitarist, "so I got too excited, I'm really sorry."

"Do you like me?" He asked surprised as well as confused as soon as he had the chance to speak, and Øystein finally looked up to look at him, but the look only lasted a second as he turned his eyes away nervously, his heart pounding. Again he couldn't believe what he was experiencing.

"Yeah, I know it's probably a little weird and I'm sorry if I'm grossing you out and making you uncomfortable..." He shrugged apologetically.

"No, it's not that," he hastened to correct him. "It's just that I don't understand why..."

"Fuck, Pelle," he said reattaching his eyes, now longer, "how can I not like you?" he subtly shook his head, letting hin know that he didn't understand. Øystein swallowed and looked away for a second, searching for the right words and realizing that he finally had the chance to express everything he really felt for him — which he wanted to do but at the same time he was afraid to open up so much. But one thing was for sure — Øystein was brave, and it was that moment or never, so he got emboldened and looked back into those blue eyes he loved so much. "You are authentic, unique, interesting, funny, attractive, passionate and talented in all the art you create. We have tastes in common and you take the band as seriously as I do. We've known each other for a long time and we've been through a lot together. I like being around you, and I miss you even when you're by my side without talking to me. Touch makes affection, I guess," he added with a shrug.

"Of course," he said holding back his laughter, referring to what happened between them in Metalion's bed, but without malice. He simply wanted to defuse the tension with humour, and luckily for both of them it worked, for it made his friend laugh quietly, and he looked away, blushing and shaking his head.

But when the humour passed he looked down again as he fiddled nervously with his hands, silently searching his mind for something to add, and mostly processing what he had just admitted out loud — no, he just didn't like him, he was in love with him.

"Thank you," the blond whispered grabbing his hands in an attempt to calm him down and show him how grateful he really was, and making him raise his head to look at him in surprise. They both looked at each other directly and fixedly, though Øystein couldn't help but look at his lips for a microsecond, and when he looked back at him his eyes began to water with nervousness. "I have to..." Now it was Pelle who looked away, as if he was going to find the words he found by looking around the dark-haired man, "think and assimilate a lot of things, really. That's why I've been so distant these days, not because of anything you've done," he said shaking his head subtly, making his long and beautiful blond hair move, "but I want you to know that you don't disgust me and I appreciate your feelings a lot," he said tightening his grip, "I appreciate you," he said now, nodding.

Øystein smiled with a warm and relieved smile. He had gotten what he wanted, which was to clear up doubts and get back to normality between them. He hadn't asked him any questions, so he didn't expect any answers from the Swede. It is one thing to confess what you feel and another thing to ask someone to be your partner — they are two different things, not to be confused although most people do. Luckily for him Pelle understood him in many ways, and that was another thing he liked about him. He didn't want to burden him with such a request. If Pelle wanted to be with him, he would leave it up to him to decide when to start a romantic relationship if he felt ready for it — although he would settle for being friends, flatmates and bandmates.

[0little-miss-scare-all0]

General Dethklok/Managerial Headcanons :3

A/N: this may or may not be dry asf i'm writing b4 the hcs so i don't forget😭😭

this is NOT proofread

Nathan Explosion :

i think he's like 6'5

its just this weird hunch i have

definitely somewhere from 28-35

i don't make the rules man😔

obviously Native American from the whole bloodlines episode

i can't remember what it's called for the life of me😭

i don't have any other nationality hcs for him

i think the show does it well enough

has gauges idc

they probably aren't hella big, but they're there

maybe an industrial or some kind of cartilage piercing

i think his favorite song they've made is Mutilation on a Saturday Night

it makes him think of early dethklok without the prophecies and shit

favorite album is the Dethalbum

probably has a bias bc it's the first project they did (totally not projecting rn😭)

song that makes me think of him is Ugly Model Mannequin by Cane Hill

idk why, it just does

Skwisgaar Skwigelf :

he's 6'10 NO ONE can convince me otherwise

his tagline isn't "taller than a tree" for nothing man

i saw someone say that Brendon himself said Nathan and Skwisgaar are the same age, so i'm not touching on that

biggest Swede ever man

like he quite literally had the Swedish flag on his belt buckle in Doomstar Requiem

go look it up i'm not joking

but maybe his dad is from like Switzerland to make him a slight bit more interesting

i doubt that he'd have any piercings

maybe his ears but that's it

i just cant see him with anything crazy

someone mentioned an elf ear body mod for him

makes sense that fairy

that last one was uncalled for hold on😭😭

this guys favorite song is awaken

he just loves the instrumentals

the little do-do-do-do do do do do do they do

idk how to explain it just go give it a listen😭

favorite album is the Dethalbum III

i think he likes how all the songs sound similar, so it isn't hard to remember the riffs (don't mention my terminology i am the farthest thing from a guitarist😭)

song that reminds me of him is Viking by Slaughter to Prevail

i just think he relates to the whole viking lineage thing

also the breakdown goes HARDDD

Toki Wartooth :

maybe like 6'1

this is going off gut feeling, not anything related to the show

i think he's like 25

he didn't look that old in Doomstar Requiem

the type of guy to sneak in like 20 cats and give them treats to not make noise

i think he regresses to like 6-7

idk why i just think yk

i think he also has gagues

they're probably white

he totally has an eyebrow piercing that pickles did in like 1900 BC that he didn't want anymore so he just let that hoe close

i think with the way his family is he would just be 100% Norwegian

no ifs not buts

might know some Latin

probably just prayers and shit like that

his favorite song they've made is Dethharmonic

or the Deththeme

for Dethharmonic he likes the orchestral elements

for the Deththeme he just likes that his name is first😭

i'd say his favorite album is the second one

just bc the album cover is purple, literally no other reason

probably bc it stands out from all other death metal albums

purple probably isn't considered a "metal" color (it should be though)

a song that reminds me of him is Summer Breeze by Type O Negative

i think he'd appreciate how chill it is

Pickles the Drummer :

bro easily 5'6-5'8

he's a short king

Wisconsin 100% his family is from no where else

like the drummer family goes back to the 13 colonies

obviously he has four piercings

those eyebrow ones

i think he has some on his ears

cartilage but not industrial

his favorite song they've made is Hatredcopter

he just loves how he sounded and the drums (based)

i forgot to say how old he is

he's the oldest, so i'd say like 39

they're not allowed to be 40 bc i said so

i think his favorite album is Dethalbum IV

it just makes him proud to see how far they've come since Dethalbum I

a song that makes me think of him is Wrong Way by Sublime

and Your Mama Won't Know by Pretty Boy Floyd

he's most definitely taunting TF out of the band with that "mom" shit

"go get mommy a bottle" "give mommy the remote"

he's insufferable (i would be too)

William Murderface :

he's 5'10 and i HAVE to be firm on that

probably like 30

MAYBEEE 33 if i feel generous

he hates pickles

the food, not the drummer

along with Toki, he also loves Christmas

it just "isn't brutal" so he won't admit it

he's like a 5 year old when that shit rolls around

that's why he wanted that special so damn bad

his favorite album is also Dethalbum IV

he just loves the new sound

a song that reminds me of him is Subliminal by Suicidal Tendencies

i feel like he'd like their whole self titled and Lights... Camera... Revolution

i cant speak for all of Freedumb, bc i only listen to Cyco Vision, but he'd like that song too

i get a big Murderface vibe from them

maybe it's the whole punk thing

and Murderface being a Nihilist

it just ties it all together with a nice big blood red bow

i think hes latino like i've seen everyone say

he can probably speak Spanish well

speaks the Spain dialect (i'm not very educated about this tell me all abt it in either reblogs or comments)

Charles Offdensen :

he's like 6'2 or 6'3

i cant decide

i think it would be so funny if he was like 40 and the band made him seem 56

in reality he's probably like 42

that seems right to me

went to some high end law school

i'm pretty sure that's when they said he jousted

idk i just remember he can do it

i like to think he's wasian

Korean and Swiss if we wanna be specific

he grew up in American bc i love my country✊🏻😔😔

anyway, i say wasian bc he has a monolid i think

at least it looks like it to me

maybe it's just his glasses hiding it who knows

probably from the middle of buttfuck nowhere

like some place in Oregon

his favorite album is the Doomstar Requiem soundtrack

IDC WHAT YALL HAVE TO SAY

i think he likes how fun it is

and is very cocky about how good his parts are

his favorite song tho is Poisoned by Food

the opening scream is his shit

a song that reminds me of him is Visage by LANDMVRKS

it's kind of quiet at the beginning which helps him lock in for the rest of the song and all the songs after it

probably listens to metal all day, then goes to bed and listens to some goth shit

maybe even classical if he's feeling posh

wasn't raised religious, but still celebrated the holidays

the christian ones specifically

a canon fidgeter

in Dethdinner he was wiggling his fingers

thank you to that one charles lover with the spreadsheet of his behaviors i forget their handle

they pointed it out and i've geeked abt it ever since

Abigail Remedlindrinc :

don't quote me on her last name i cant spell that fuckin thing😭

i think she's like 5'8 easily

probably 34

not much older than Murderface but definitely not younger

shes probably from somewhere normal like Pittsburgh

ofc i say where i'm from for normal

anyway she's definitely not from PA idk what i was on abt

i cant think of a specific place she'd be from

i feel bad i don't have much for her i love her sm

she probably still has Nathan's number saved

in my heart they're still best friends

in canon god does she hate him

she's just so amazing i love her

Dick Knubbler :

this man omfg

he's like 5'10 too

maybe 5'11 on a good day

he looks old

maybe like 40

up there with charles 100%

hes such a goofy mf i hate him

but like i hate him lightheartedly

my dad loves him he thinks he's funny

he looks like the type of mf to talk in his sleep

he definitely rolls around a lot too

has to have a big ass bed or his frail ass will fall off

i think of him when i hear any pop song from the 80s

like Taylor Dayne, and Prince even though i think he was 90s

idk man i wasn't alive😭

[blackmetaltv]

One of the most striking aspects of 'Hordaland Doedskvad' is the vast array of musical styles it encompasses. While Black Metal is often characterized by its raw, aggressive sound, this album demonstrates a level of depth and versatility that is not commonly found within the genre. The musicianship is both melodic and brutal, with the guitar work being particularly noteworthy. Unlike some Black Metal bands that rely heavily on repeating the same four chords, Taake's guitarist showcases their skill and creativity throughout the album.

The musical spectrum displayed in 'Hordaland Doedskvad' is especially impressive considering it comes from the Norwegian Black Metal scene, which has often been criticized for replicating Darkthrone's style. Taake manages to break free from these constraints, offering listeners a fresh and captivating experience.

[dreamings-free]

Outkast’s Big Boi, EDM artist Zedd, U.K. band Nothing But Thieves, Norwegian artist Aurora, rapper Hanumankind, guitarist-composer Cory Wong will perform in Mumbai on March 8 and 9, 2025

Anurag Tagat Sep 10, 2024

American punk-rock heroes Green Day, pop artist Shawn Mendes, U.K. hitmakers Glass Animals and singer-songwriter Louis Tomlinson are among top-billed acts making their India debut at Lollapalooza India 2025 in Mumbai, between March 8 and 9.

The lineup for the third edition of Lollapalooza India also includes rap veteran Big Boi from Outkast, U.K. band Nothing But Thieves, Norwegian pop artist Aurora, electronic artists like Zedd, John Summit and Alok, American guitarist-composer Cory Wong (known for his work with acts like Vulfpeck), breakout rapper Hanumankind (also our latest cover star), South Korean indie rock band Wave To Earth and rising pop artists Isabel LaRosa and more. Folk-indie singer-songwriter duo Lullanas – comprising Indian-origin siblings – will also make their India debut at Lollapalooza India 2025.

More Indian artists adding heft to the lineup include singer-songwriter Dot., rappers Raftaar and KR$NA, Punjabi artist Talwiinder, sitarist and fusion artist Niladri Kumar, pop artist Lisa Mishra, rock artist Raman Negi, Ahmedabad rap favorite Dhanji, producer Spryk, pianist-composer Sahil Vasudeva, DJ-producer Anushka, multi-instrumentalist-producer Sid Vashi, singer-songwriter Raghav Meattle and indie multi-instrumentalist/producer Sudan.

The announcement in September makes for meme-friendly news for Green Day, known for songs like “Wake Me Up When September Ends.” The band announced their India debut on Instagram and said, “Another first for us!! India, you’ve been calling our name… and it’s finally time to answer. We’ll see you in Mumbai next March for @LollaIndia.” The trio comprising Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool released their most recent album Saviors in 2024 and will likely dig into all-time hits like “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life),” “American Idiot,” “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” and more. Shawn Mendes, known for hits “In My Blood,” “Treat You Better” and new single “Why Why Why,” returns to the live stage after more than two years on his current tour, which includes Lollapalooza India.

Louis Tomlinson, who has a big following in India following his time with pop group One Direction, will also make a long-awaited India debut. Fellow Brits Glass Animals are a big draw on the back of releasing their new album I Love You So F***ing Much in July, but primarily due to their 2020 hit “Heat Waves,” which was the seventh-most streamed song in India on Spotify in 2022.

Glass Animals founder Dave Bayley – who visited India as a 16-year-old – told Rolling Stone India in 2020, “Thank you for the support, I hope you are staying safe and healthy. We can’t wait to come and visit.”

In a wholly new strategy, Lollapalooza India’s 2025 lineup is out six months in advance of the multi-genre festival taking place in March. BookMyShow Live also took a similar approach while announcing the lineup for their festival Bandland, which is taking place on Nov. 23 and 24 in Bengaluru.

Get Lollapalooza India 2025 tickets here.

[skwigelfskwisgaar]

Cold.

Skwisgaar always hated the cold. But it wasn't like he wasn't used to it - he had grown up swaddled in the biting cold winds, reminders that his mother had forgotten to buy food, to purchase new coats, socks, boots for her growing boy. He was an afterthought, to be left outside like the rest of her worries.

It was why he hated the cold.

He said it was because he was always stuck outside and exposed to it - which wasn't a total lie - but in reality it was because it was a reminder that he was unwanted by the one person he ever wanted to be noticed by when he was young. He wasn't meant for love, he wasn't deserving of it. He was unworthy of it.

He loathed everything about the cold and the snow.

It's why he was probably the only one opposed to the idea of the concert in Danzig - the cold affected sound quality, and it was cold.

Right now, he was trapped in the icy wilds of who knew where and stuck with Toki, without a guitar, and no cell reception. In the cold. But to the more pressing matter at hand, he had to tell Toki about something that was absolutely necessary before he forgot.

"I coulds hear your feedback in mine monitors!"

Skwisgaar hated the snow, but maybe because they were stranded together and he felt some kinship with a fellow Scandinavian that instead of complaining about the fact that they were needing rescue, the blonde felt maybe he should try to dig into Toki's subpar playing at their concert. Especially given that Toki had grown up playing in the harsh Norwegian landscapes and should know to tune his guitar for colder temps -

"How dares you - !" Toki cuts him off, offended that Skwisgaar had told him his playing sucked. Maybe if he practiced or actually paid attention to Skwisgaar when they practiced, maybe he wouldn't have feedback during the concert. Sometimes, it felt like Toki wanted Skwisgaar to be disappointed. It didn't make sense that such a talented guitarist would make such careless mistakes otherwise.

Regardless, he tried to hear Toki's rebuttal about how he was 'killings it', but he was too worried about the cold.

There was a pit growing in his stomach with each step they both took and it was taking every fiber in his body to stop himself from cutting Toki off on his rant - it felt like he was that young little boy again running home excited to show his mom that he got a passing grade in his home ec and music class only to see --

A tree exploded next to them. Halted to a stop, Skwisgaar's thoughts froze, and he stood still, much like Toki before he decided to comment.

"That was weirds."

A large brutish man emerged from the tree line, letting loose a battle cry. Already on edge from the botched concert and a failed escape attempt, Skwisgaar joined Toki in screaming out in fright.

"Time to die!" Both turn in a frenzy and run, long hair wildly whipping behind them. Neither make it far enough and get shoved down as their chaser pulls out a weapon.

In a panic, Skwisgaar thought of how much he hated that after all this time, he was going to die in the snow. Surrounded by the cold. The very thing reminding him the he was unworthy of love. He looked over to see Toki, who was much more confused than panicked, maybe because he had a fighting chance at kicking this guy's ass than Skwisgaar. He took a moment to let his mind calm down from the frantic thoughts speeding through it before he spoke.

He thought of the way the snow crunched under the boots of the man as he took his time to pick between him and his friend. He thought of how he often wanted to play music forever with Toki, and so, quickly formulated that into words before anything else happened.

He thought of all the times he felt the happiest.

The image of Toki and his audition, and how he impressed the band and blew Skwisgaar's mind.

The first recording of them in the studio together as a band.

The privilege of having a fellow Scandinavian who understood basic Swedish and knowing enough Norsk to talk to Toki when he could.

The times when Toki told him how safe he felt, or the times he opened up about why guitars had saved him much like how Skwisgaar felt they had saved him too.

So he said the only thing he could.

The only thing he felt was appropriate.

"I's ... will sees you in Valhallska, Toki."

Toki looked over, a hesitation lasting half a second.

"I always ... hateds you, Skwisgaar." There was a half second in his response but Skwisgaar's heart was singing at the very idea that anyone admitted to feeling anything for him. Toki admitting that he felt this passionate anger, this brutal fury for Skwisgaar made the blonde's heart soar. Toki had this black fury, brutal anger, raw talent that he had trusted Skwisgaar with to pour into their music. To hear Toki aim at him when it was probably more of Toki trusting Skwisgaar with it was neither here nor there, but nonetheless it cemented what Skwisgaar had thought of their musical dynamic for a long time now.

To hear him say it out loud was euphoric.

He knew there were days that Toki wanted to rip Skwisgaar apart, or who knew what else with that wild primal look he had in his eyes after practice sessions - but for him to admit this on what might be their metaphorical deathbeds?

It was the highest form of flattery Skwisgaar had ever been granted and he had no way of of knowing how to respond. So he smiled.

He cracked a small, albeit genuine, smile.

And he answered honestly.

"...I knows Toki, I knows."

- - - - -

It was cold in his room, no matter how often he fiddled with the thermostat. Ever since he had the scare with Toki and his new guitar teacher, Skwisgaar's room became colder. He was sure Toki was playing tricks on him at this point, or the others were messing around with him when he wasn't looking. They all knew he hated the cold. It was probably more mind tricks.

Right now he had a hard time even playing classic Dethklok songs because his hands were so cold. He muttered a few curses under his breath and started again from the top, gluing his eyes back on to the metronome and internalizing the beat.

Closing his eyes, Skwisgaar tried to playing the Duncan Hills jingle again from memory, trying to forget the recital and the events that led up to it. Toki's tutor had died last week, which should have meant Toki and the other guys would find a way to stop fucking around with Skwisgaar - they moved on to the next thing which was Murderface and a line of Planet Piss watches he was planning on launching. Yet Skwisgaar hadn't been able to find a way to regulate the room to a stable temperature he could tolerate.

He was in the middle of playing the stupid coffee jingle when he heard a knock on the door. Skwisgaar mumbled something about coming in before rolling his eyes at the hulking mass that was Nathan - probably there to tease him about Toki still. He made his peace that he wasn't the best tutor for Toki, as much as that hurt to admit, but they weren't going to stop him from being better.

"Hey, I heard Toki was - holy shit Skwisgaar - !"

In a flash Nathan had torn Skwisgaar's hands away from his Explorer, with Pickles and Murderface in tow as they now poked and prodded at his bloodied hands with very poorly veiled concerns.

It took over an hour of some careful wording and promises to Charles to get everyone to leave him alone after all was said and done. Even Toki had stopped by to see what happened, to which he put his foot down and shooed everyone out with promises of care and rest if they left him alone

Everyone except Nathan.

"Nat'an, you amnst needs to dotes on mes like Fatty Ding Dongs."

Nathan had taken a seat on the bed next to him, looking at him like he did when Toki or Murderface screwed up their parts.

With pity.

"Uh. Just. Take it easy, need you in peak shape."

"Can'ts stays in peak shapes if I can'ts praktises." Skwisgaar pulled his signature white fur cover on himself, his room unbearably cold still. He forgot to mention to Charles about the fact that his room needed servicing.

"Well. Maybe. Hrm. Maybe ease up. On the whole... uh. On the whole practicing thing."

"Nat'an, I has to be betters than Tokis - !"

"Skwisgaar. We were messing with you. We - I didn't think - this was a joke."

Skwisgaar looked down at his hands. He knew guitarists who had done bloody messes of themselves trying to meet deadlines. Hell, Skwisgaar had done that to himself several times trying to complete songs with Toki and Murderface, all 3 of them sporting some gnarly blisters; bloody bandaids the days after recordings were finished worn as badges of honor. Why was this a concern all of a sudden?

"I's had bloody blisters before meeting deadlines. Williams, Toki, mes toos. Amns dis about somet'ings else, Nat'ans?" Skwisgaar could see Nathan struggling to spin this in a way where nobody broke that stupid rule but it wasn't like they had particularly tried to hide it this time. Maybe it was habit at this point - Pickles talking about the insurance policies Charles took out on each of his fingers and Murderface talking about how devastated Toki would be and how he would be burdened with the younger man. As if either one of them actually played their instrument outside of concerts or the recording room.

"Look, I'm only saying this because no one else is here to hear this but Skwisgaar, this is ... uh. Concerning."

"Ands?"

"And? Is Toki getting better than you really that big a deal to you?"

"Woulds it be that bigs a deal to admit that I has not'ing else?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I only has de guitar. If I amnst de best at de guitar, what do I has to mine name?"

"You have Dethklok. You have us."

Nathan got up, giving Skwisgaar a squeeze on the shoulder, before leaving the room. His room, oddly enough, was no longer cold after that night. At least now he knew he had his band. He had his friends.

- - - - -

The Dethcopter was cold. Maybe it was because Toki and Pickles beat the living shit out of Murderface and he insisted they stay an extra hour to get some ice for his aching bruises, or maybe because he had just broken up with Tori, the first time he felt like he was at home outside of Mordhaus. Regardless of which, Skwisgaar was over it. The cold was exactly as it was from his memories - sharp, biting, numbing.

Sitting across from him, Murderface gave him an accusatory look - something Murderface had mastered over the years as their profit chasing bassist. Despite both seats facing the same direction, they both managed to face each other while they made small talk.

"Looks like Pickle and Tokis really puts de boots to you."

"I wish those fuckers put the boots to me..."

Skwisgaar, out of pity, or out of duty to the band, took his freezing hands and placed them on Murderface's knuckles, red and bruised from covering himself from Toki's and Pickles' beating. Couldn't have a bassist with useless hands. Murderface flinched at first, then took Skwisgaar's cold fingers and placed them on his other knuckles, alternating them every few seconds.

"Amns wantings to knows whats you dids to get beaten by Pickle and Toki." Murderface grumbled, or mumbled, Skwisgaar could never tell with that terrible lisp of his, before he responded.

"You know, that chick you were with looked an awful lot like schomeone we know, Skwischgaar."

Skwisgaar arched an eyebrow. He thought about all the women they knew, which wasn't many to begin with, and tried very hard to think of who his ex-girlfriend could even remotely look like.

"I's... not sure who she amns looking like." Murderface made a smug face, as a Klokateer came by to give him an ice pack for his leg.

"Whats?" Murderface took the ice pack from his knee and placed it on his hands when Skwisgaar retreated his hands, trying to question Murderface now.

"Brown hair, blue eyes. Blue sweater, really Skwischgaar?"

"She amns sweet and kinds, and likes animals. She hads a small collection of sea creature plushies. Wants to be a doctor." He smiled a little, remembering the fun dates he had with Tori, and the fun outing to the aquarium in Stockholm. He didn't even know about Skansen-Akvariet and now it became a new favorite spot in his home country to visit.

"Holy schit, plushies?" Murderface clamped a less bruised hand over his mouth, looking more like he was trying to contain his laughter instead of trying to have a conversation. Skwisgaar scowled at him.

"Ja, Williams. She amns havings a sweet side. Classy lady nameds Tori Skarsgard. She hads me whats call binge watch Moomintroll wit her, even if I alreadies seen it with Toki when he amns join - !"

"Why the fuck am I the only one here to hear this?!"

"You amns just jealous dat I founds a wonderful lady even ifs I's not famous." Skwisgaar crossed his arms in indignance, a bit upset that Murderface was finding humor in any of this. Maybe Skwisgaar was sore about letting Tori go. Maybe he was upset about the cold. Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

"Skwischgaar." Murderface stopped smiling and more or less kept a serious face. At this point Skwisgaar saw that maybe Murderface was seeing something he wasn't - maybe that Tori resembled someone he already knew.

" ... whatevers. It amns over wit her." Murderface sighed, a placed a hand on Skwisgaar's shoulder. Was that pity he picked up on in the bassist's voice?

"What, Williams? Are you goings to tells me to stops de moping over Tori? Tori amns amazings but evens Tori amnst a worthy of a gods?"

"What the fuck - no, I wasch going to say that she was Toki with tits, you fucking egotistical prick!"

Skwisgaar's brain short circuited at the words that came spilling out of Murderface's mouth. He blinked, and he registered that Murderface had begun to to snap his fingers in front of his face and had said - asked actually, about something. But nothing was registering.

Brunette with a large plushie collection. The blue sweater he gifted her for their aquarium date. A shared love for animals. The fact that both of them made him sit down and watch Moomintroll nonstop --

Snap!

Skwisgaar shot his hands up and slapped it over Murderface's mouth, as he scanned the Dethcopter for prying ears. Once he saw not even Klokateers were nearby, he leaned in to whisper. Murderface, who was caught mid finger snap, stopped as if frozen in ice. He locked eyes with Skwisgaar once the hands came off his mouth.

"So, what gives Skwischgaar?! Your first ever girlfriend and it's literally a female Toki - !"

"I misseds Mordhaus."

"Excuses." He and Murderface glare at each other before Murderface sighs and lets out a laugh.

"What amns funny, Williams?!" Skwisgaar crosses his arms again, furious that he didn't have his Explorer on hand and sits facing the right direction, forward to avoid looking at Murderface and his ridicule.

"You literally just realized that?!"

"Whatevers, you dildo. At least I amnst denyings dat I misses mine band."

"Nah, you missed him." Skiwsgaar spun around so fast Murderface almost got a mouth full of blonde hair.

"Never mention dis agains. Got its?"

"...I got it. If it makes you feel better - well, you didn't hear it from me personally- but I- we saw more blonde groupies too. Not even to like fuck them or anything, but just like, to have them around. The other guys, I mean. I- we all missed you." Murderface looked away, trying to put on a cool bravado and not look like he was outing himself but instead more like he was ratting out the rest of the band for blatantly caring as much as they did. With both now facing forward, Skwisgaar could swallow the humiliation of being told by Murderface of all people that Tori had been 'Toki with tits'.

Skwisgaar nodded, then replied, "What a weird ways to says the bands misses me."

"Whatever." Murderface leaned away again, before he spoke again.

"What a weird way to admit you dated a Toki with tits."

"Dat amnst true, Moidaface - !"

When Pickles and Nathan came back on the Dethcopter they found Skwisgaar and Murderface rolling around like idiots, fighting about who knew what - probably about who slept with more groupies. Again.

- - - - -

Skwisgaar felt a bone-deep cold that he couldn't shake off. It was Sweden 1984 all over again. In the distance, he could see the dying fires of riots from fans still upset about Dethklok breaking up. Rumbling in the sky signaled that the weatherman was correct as always, and rain should be coming in later. Despite this, Skwisgaar doesn't care.

His band is no more.

He takes a swig of the ipen bottle of vodka he has with him and looks from his high balcony as he leans forward on his arms. Everyone is trying to put out fires, it feels like.

With Murderface still dealing with the fallout in the political sphere after his nudes leaked, and Pickles and Nathan still fighting over a woman that Skwisgaar was positive wanted nothing to do with either of them, it left little for Skwisgaar to do except drink and think. He wandered Mordhaus like a ghost, except he was riddled with dread and stress. Maybe less a ghost, and more a haunted soul left to carry the burdens of mistakes made. To drink and think on decisions made.

And he's had plenty of time to drink and think since Pickles announced he was quitting the band.

To think about how awful he's been to Toki. To drink to the good times he took for granted. To blame himself on how he turned Toki's admiration, that righteous brutality he wanted to draw out and funnel into his playing - how he twisted it into an acidic poison that's corrupted into a desperate plea for validation. While Toki could have attempted to pour that angry energy into his guitar playing, Skwisgaar definitely didn't encourage Toki in positive ways.

He twisted Toki into the monstrosity that backstabbed him all for a stupid solo - which Toki bombed and was also still trying to make up for with those fans too.

" Oh hey, Skwisgahr! Mind if I join ya?"

Seeing that this was the balcony overlooking what was the Mordhaus equivalent of a backyard, Skwisgaar looked at Pickles and nodded. It's not like he and Pickles didn't hang out often, but nowadays, it felt like Skwisgaar had been left out to dry just like everyone else, while Pickles and Nathan feuded over Abigail.

"I see you're hitting the liquor early tonight."

"Heughs, I ackshualies am starting lates tonights."

"...is that so?"

"Yeahs. But amns enoughs about mes. Wants some?"

"Sure!" Pickles took the vodka from Skwisgaar and really took in the sight of the man. He felt those emerald green eyes look over him as he approached. Blonde locks looked dull, skin had a grey pallor, and unless his eyes betrayed him, the guitarist looked sleep deprived. Or at least Skwisgaar would assume Pickles could tell that from a glance - Pickles was always so good at seeing and telling right away what was wrong with someone.

"You okey, dood?"

"I wills be. Not my foirst times having a band break ups."

"Right. Look, I was actually lookin for ya, I wanted to say sorry fer -!"

"For whats? Tellings Nat'an dat he amnst right for breakings de master records?"

"No - !"

"For goings back to your moms after you tolds me you amnst let hers do whats she dids last time we dids mom talk?"

"Dood, unrelated and no!" Pickles downs almost the entire bottle of vodka like a true champ before Skwisgaar takes it back and drinks the remainder. He doesn't look at him when he produces the other bottle he had brought out with him, and he just knows Pickles is going to judge him for it - which is rich coming from the guy who was in rehab for drinking.

"I came to say sorry for being a shit friend. I was so bent outta shape about my shit wit' Nathan thet I forgot to check in with ya, especially after the whole thin' with Toki."

Skwisgaar spins around and smacks Pickles with his hair. Pickles sputters, trying to wipe his face.

"What amns you knows about me and Tokis?" he asks, popping the cork on the new bottle, before leaning to look at the dying riots in the distance, "Amns as much mine faults anyways, amns a punishments for mine hubris." He takes the bottle to his lips and takes a sip, and not wanting to not wake up hungover for Cornickelson's funeral offers the bottle to Pickles.

Pickles stands there gobsmacked before he takes the bottle away from Skwisgaar again. Skwisgaar rolls his eyes.

"Looks, Pickle. I cames here to be miserables before de funeral. I amnst in de mood - !"

"I'm not gonna stand here and see you kill your liver over fuckin' Toki!"

"It amnst over just hims! It amns de band, mine friends, mine music careers! I pours mine entire hearts and souls into dis!" Pickles takes a step back as Skwisgaar, drunk on both vodka and misery, looms over him as each syllable spills out of him.

"Seems likes I amns de only ones who amns not wanting Dethklok to breaks up, because it amns de foirst time I likes people - de fans and de label and mine friends - !"

Pickles tries to tackle Skwisgaar but becomes a hug when the guitarist wraps his arms around him; Skwisgaar pets his head and while the humiliation of the failed tackle stabs at his pride for a split second, there remains a longer burning shame for neglecting a friend who has been suffering in the shadows of the much more prominent fighting between himself and Nathan. He feel Skwisgaar's arms shudder, no doubt because the man was always somehow cold.

"... fuck, Skwisgahr - I'm so fuckin' sorry."

"I don'ts want de pity. I wants mine band backs."

"It's not pity, you fuckin' douchebag."

"What amns dis huh, Pickle?"

"Fuckin' ... shut up and just let me keep yer beanpole ass warm for a sec."

"You amns such a moms."

"So... do you accept my apology?"

"Ja, apolejacks accepteds."

"Geez, we have got to get you an' Toki to some classes - wait, I got an idea."

Tearing himself off of Skwisgaar, Pickles produces his phone out of his pocket and taps away, while clouds overhead blot out the stars. Skwisgaar decides his legs need too much coordination to keep him upright and slumps down next to the railing.

"You invites goirls?"

"No, I invited Toki."

Pickles had never seen someone try to sober up as quickly as Skwisgaar did. The man knew he was an emotional drunk, as evidenced by the hug earlier, and the half-confession, half-admission of him caring about the break up. And for some reason unknown to the band, Skwisgaar always refused to get drunk around Toki alone, or would get drunk with everyone. Pickles squinted at Skwisgaar as a suspicion began setting in; the guitarist is busy trying to make himself puke over the balcony, before looking back to the entryway to their home.

"Skwisgahr."

"Nej, dis amns terribles time, I's drunk as shits - !"

"Skwisgahr."

"Calls Williams, or get some groupies - !"

"Skwisgahr."

"Waits, maybes I gets sloppies and just pass out - !"

"Dood, why are you so against having Toki here?"

Skwisgaar freezes like a deer in headlights, before slumping back down against the balcony and pulling his legs up and laying his head against his knees. Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer, Pickles joins him, pulling out a joint and asking again.

"Skwisgahr, I'm askin' as a friend 'ere."

"You guys knows I amnst likings to be drunk with Toki around. Amns bad influence."

"... never stopped you from drinking and partying with 'im on ... tours..." Skwisgaar looks up to Pickles as if confused for the drifting off at the end.

Pickles looks back at him, confusion in his face.

"Now that I say it, it's like - it's with the rest of the band. Is there something else I'm not seein' here, beanpole?"

"Nothings you dildo! I don't wants him to sees de poirson whats invites him to de band to acts like... wells like drunk idiot!" Skwisgaar and Pickles both look to the entryway for a short second because they saw movement; when they see a few Klokateers come and go and one come out with ice, some drinks and glasses, Pickles continues. He thought Toki said he was close by, and he could swear on his drum set that he saw those pale blue eyes for a split second.

"What's wrong with thet?"

"Toki ands I went drinking alones once. We don't drives anymore. It were a careless act." Pickles gives him a face of realization, recalling the incident. They thought it was really awesome to see them on the news, drunk driving on live TV on a police chase. Toki shooting a gun at the news helicopter and then the crash into the barricade was the highlight. The band was excited to pick them up, even if it meant that Skwisgaar and Toki had lost their licenses to drive.

"I remember! Thet was fuckin' great."

"I crash de car. We hads de buckles on, which amns goods but..."

"Oh yeah, so... you really care thet much?"

"Toki ... he amns like music... soul twin. He amns differents. I's be a dildo to not says dat. I has been dildo to hims. Amns why I amnst mads about de book, I's mad it took a book to sees it. I deserves it for not appreskiatings Toki's skill. "

"... this is the first time I've ever heard ya talk about the kid in a nice way. But I've seen ya, Skwisgahr! You care, like, a lot."

" You amnst foirst to tells me dat." Pickles lit a joint up and passed it to Skwisgaar, who took a good puff out of it.

"Pickle? Ams Toki, I's here!"

Skwisgaar promptly started choking on the puff he took. Pickles let out a hearty chuckle. Toki waved, looking at Pickles before his eyes landed on Skwisgaar. The kid seemed nervous. Apprehensive about approaching them, and for a second it felt like he was watching a rabbit approach a wolf in its den. Maybe his eyes hadn't played tricks on him earlier.

"Amns you been arounds a long time?!"

"Nei? I's uhm, I's justs gots here." After composing himself from what looked like a potential heart attack, Skwisgaar passed the joint back to Pickles, who made a huge wave of his arm to make Toki sit down. He took a small puff then passed it to Toki once he finally sat across from them.

"So, Toki. Heard ya leaked the nudes that killed Murderface's political cahreer."

Skwisgaar leaned in, and so did the others. "If you dids, Toki, I says you dids de woirld a favors. No ones in politics amns taking bads nudes like dat."

Pickes let out a loud howl of laughter as Toki giggled.

"...amns you been drinking, Skwisgaar?"

"Ja, amns been rough wit ... Nat'an and de new music he amns doings. It's dildos." Pickles gave him a disapproving look, but Skwisgaar would rather go back to Sweden than talk about why he was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Nat'en ams needs to apologise to Pickle. It ams wrong what he did." Pickles raised the vodka bottle he had managed to get without much moving and then drank. Toki took it next after passing the joint to Skwisgaar, who snatched it from him.

"Nej, amns bads for yous."

"Pickle!?" Pickles smacked him on the arm.

"Fines."

"Play nice, both of ya."

"Skwisgaar started it."

"Toki, we all need apologize. I came to say sorry to Beanpole here." Skwisgaar felt himself shrivel up, as Toki looked at Pickles with curiosity.

"Whats about?"

"Eh, another time, kid. But I think, before we get crazy here - ya both need to clear up some shit. I'm gonna get Murderface, he just texted thet he got lost."

Toki asked why not text him again, like he did with him as Skwisgaar flopped on either trying to pull Pickles back down or freezing up.

As Pickles vanished, Skwisgaar felt too drunk and too aware and in his skin all at once. His eyes locked with Toki, and he immediately slumped back on the balcony railing, opting to grab the abandoned bottle.

"... yous not just drinking because of Nat'ens, ams you."

"Amazings brain usings, Toki. De skies amns blue too, you knows dat?"

"Okei fucker, whys Pickle says dat and leaves me wit your sour pusses?"

Skwisgaar didn't respond. He took the bottle to his lips, dipped his head back and drank. And drank. And drank. And drank --

"Stops! You amns gonna kills your liver!"

'I's not drunk or highs enoughs for dis."

"For whats?!"

He looks at Toki, who looks lost and afraid. He's not seen Skwisgaar hit a low like this, not even when he lost the endorsements after the book published, or his career was pulverized into pieces. Last time he saw Skwisgaar this drunk was the night they got arrested for drunk driving. He thought about how things were different then, how simpler their dynamic was, how easier it was to trust his band, to trust Toki.

How he took it all for granted.

"I's sorries, Tokis. You amnst deserves dis."

"What ams you talking abouts?!" Toki pulled himself closer; Skwisgaar's eyes drifted away from those pale blue hues and to Toki's hands. Those hands that he had been trusted to write for. To care for. To cherish and to play music with.

He sighed.

"You needs to talk to mes when I amnst fuckeds up. Meets me at de bar after de funerals?"

Toki, looking at him with concern and apprehension and some suspicion, nodded in agreement. Pickles came back and told them it would be a few more minutes, and Toki volunteered to go with him.

Skwisgaar cracked a small smile. Toki did too. Pickles looked at Skwisgaar, and he gave him a sloppy thumbs up. Pickles gave him one back.

- - - - -

The first thing he felt was cold. It was a common thing to feel when he didn't remember the events leading him there. Stiff and sore, he took an attempt to slip back under because being sober was awful.

Was that puke on his face?

"...eurgh.....hrmph..."

He pulled himself out of the tangle of hair, limbs and liquor spilled on and around him before he grabbed a bottle. Surprisingly, it still had alcohol in it, so he took it and a semi-clean robe and wandered out of the room. Alcohol was better for avoiding sobriety this early, for now.

It felt like it was a lifetime ago that he spent his night under that cloudy night getting drunk and high with Murderface and Pickles and Toki. With the promise of meeting Toki under better circumstances after the funeral to talk.

That night he sat at the bar by himself until he couldn't sit straight anymore.

And since then, he refused to stay sober.

It was easier that way.

And when alcohol wasn't doing it, he began to raid Pickles' stash. When Pickles cornered him, he lashed out and finally went out and found himself back on the streets of 1999, chasing a high that he promised to leave behind.

Pickles finally came to him in hysterics when he threw out his Explorer, a book he wrote some music ideas on, and a few CD cases he had stashed Toki's old guitar riffs on. Pickles only knew Skwisgaar was doing it because a CD hit one of the groupie sluts he was talking to in the backyard.

Skiwsgaar was so high on meth that Pickles had to get Murderface and Nathan to help him bring the blonde inside. It didn't take long to see that the guitarist was not drunk but high and less time for Pickles to see what it was when he saw track marks.

"I's not gonnas get lectures from you Pickle. You wents to rehabs for dis." Stunned at the remark, Murderface and Nathan watched as they both had a shouting match until both stormed off. At least Skwisgaar stopped taking meth.

That was last month.

Or last week.

Or was it last year?

He lost track of time.

It didn't matter anymore. Not without Toki.

Skwisgaar picked up a pastry in the kitchen and listened as they talked about using a new recording as part of the concert coming up. Skwisgaar nearly gagged.

"Amnst de sames."

"It'll have to do. We have recordings - !"

"Nei, Nat'an. I won'ts do its."

"Skwischgaar - !"

He threw his glass of juice at the first wall he saw.

"Fines! Dos whatever, fucking dildos."

He shoved the pastry into his mouth before they said anything and walked off. Stumbling, like a toddler just learning to walk. He makes it to the entry of the kitchen as he hears Pickles finally pipe up.

"What the fuck is Skwisgahr's problem now?"

"He, uh. He doesn't want recordings."

"... did I ever tell you guysch about the girlfriend he had in Sweden?"

Immediately, Skwisgaar turns on his heel and comes back into the kitchen and makes a dive at Murderface, until Nathan tackles him and tosses him against a counter. Pickles makes a dash to get out of the way as Murderface slowly lowers the arms he instinctively raised in his defense.

"Yous amns fuckings dildo lickers! You fuckings-- you amnst GETS ITS!"

And while his silent cries and tears didn't make sense that day, a week later when he quietly held Toki in the Dethcopter and whispered all the things he didn't get to tell him at the bar the day of the funeral, they understood.

- - - - -

Cold.

Something about the Arctic cold that made bones creak. It made joints crack like glass. Fingers ache. Skwisgaar hated it. Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was the cold, still.

How long had it been since they had first stepped onto Danzig? How much had changed since then?

His head throbbed, the ground wobbled -

A warm arm wrapped around his middle before his knees gave out.

"Shit - Toki, come help with yer brother!"

If Skwisgaar wasn't on the verge of puking his guts out he'd chew out Pickles for calling on Toki to help him. With Murderface on his right side Toki came up on the other, clutching Deaddy Bear as Pickles ran his hand over Skwisgaar's head. Wait, when did Skwisgaar get shorter?

"Of course Skwischgaar is a mess, he's light as fuck! Feels like a lady!"

"Yous a lady, Williams!"

"Dood, how many fingers am I holdin'?"

"Amnst blind, Pickle - !"

"No, but uh. You have a concussion. Got those in high school. Erm. A lot. I know one when I see one."

As Pickles and Nathan both talked about how Skwisgaar was going to recover, and Murderface grumbled about how no one cared about how he felt after having been possessed - all Skwisgaar wanted to do was make sure he at least made it back to Mordhaus -

"Skwisgaar?"

Toki pressed Deaddy Bear to Skwisgaar's arms, and then held Skwisgaar in a tight hug. The cold he felt began to seep out of him as Toki slowly looked up and finally locked eyes with him. He had taken a seat next to him, under Skwisgaar's arm still.

"I know it was you who carried me," he said in Swedish, "Let Toki carry you now."

"... this is a hug, Toki." Toki just hugged him tighter.

"What have I said about not speakin' English? No Snow-Speak!"

"Picklesch, its called Swedish." Toki gave Murderface a look, as Skwisgaar finally manages to hold down the Doritos they gave them in their cells the night before. He says what he assumed Toki was also thinking.

"...what de fucks amns Snows ... Speaks?"

"A schtupid term he picked up from reading ..."

Skwisgaar saw Pickles panic for a split second as Murderface stopped. Toki loosens his arms, but doesn't let go of Skwisgaar, to lean closer to Murderface, who also looks like he's panicking.

"Readings what?"

"Wowies, Mordaface, how ams you knows wes speaking Svenska?"

"I made an educated guessch."

"Yeah! Ya only speak in Swedish when - !"

"Readings what, Pickle?!"

"Uh... fans! Social media stuff! The fans think you an' Tokes have some secret language! They call it thet." Based on Nathan's own face, Skwisgaar felt like maybe Pickles was lying through his teeth. He was not going to pry further now, however - his stomach was threatening to empty itself again. Skwisgaar pried his right arm away from Murderface to clamp his mouth and then rub his stomach as he took a deep breath.

"Shit, uh. We gotta get you, mhrm, Murderface, and Charles looked at. Like, now." Pickles made a quick turn and immediately pointed at something Skwisgaar couldn't see from his angle. Sitting on the snow aside, the view out here wasn't bad. Nathan patted Pickles on the shoulder before walking in the direction he pointed. Maybe it was Charles? Pickles began walking away and talking with Nathan, before he stopped and made a motion to Murderface.

"Murderface, come help Nathan grab Charles! Looks like there's someone helpin' already."

Murderface grumbled something about suffering from success, which made absolutely no sense to Skwisgaar, but he was using the time of quiet to gather his thoughts. Toki finally, slowly pulled himself away from him and smiled sweetly.

"...Skwisgaar, I know you and I have had our problems, and I haven't made a great friend. But I mean it. Let Toki carry the weight for now. If that includes you when things get tough, then I will." Skwisgaar grabs Toki's fretting hand and rubs his thumb over the callouses there. Even now Toki is clingy, needy, affectionate, caring. And it's not just with Skwisgaar, even if it is who he does it the most with - he went to Pickles or Nathan if he needed help with anything or to Murderface for fun and laughter.

With Skwisgaar he often just sat and listened to what the Swede said, chords and strings and arpeggios the backdrop for the lessons and practice sessions in Deus Keep.

He wondered what happened in the time they forgot.

He wondered what made this Toki so clingy.

He wondered if he did something to him.

He wondered why Toki and not --

"You are thinking too loud."

"Sorry, my head is a mess."

"Speak your mind, Skwisgaar."

He lets go of Toki's hand, and holds himself in the biting cold as he formulates his thoughts. Danzig is where they both 'confessed' to their intentions going forward in their music, and Skwisgaar wanted to keep that same spirit. Here was Toki wanting to mend things - either because he felt guilty about the book or because he felt he wasn't pulling enough weight in the dynamic, but here he was ready to help Skwisgaar.

Ready to not just be an equal, but his friend.

"Toki... if you have been a bad friend, then I've been outright shit to you. You trusted me with your talent, and I squandered that. I never gave you reason enough to be excited or passionate for the music if I never let you shine. It's just as much my fault - !"

Toki launches himself on Skwisgaar, a crushing hug and then shaking shoulders. Skwisgaar panics as he realizes Toki's crying, and he slowly and awkwardly begins to rub the younger man's back as he pulls himself tighter on the blonde.

"I promise to put my ego aside from now on. Okay?"

Toki nods his head, and Skwisgaar suddenly realizes something.

"Tokis... amns you using mine shoirts to wipes your face?!"

Toki shakes his head no, but then pulls himself away and gives Skwisgaar an angry look.

"You says nice things and you worry about yous stupid shirt?!"

"It amnst a hankys chef to wipes snot off ... your - !" Almost immediately, Skwisgaar feels it and loses to his stomach, as it empties itself and he only feels Toki rub his back as he goes for a second round, and finally, his stomach gives up fighting him. Thankfully all he did was turn his face to the side and Toki managed to get his face out of the way before he whispered reassurances that it would get better once he had something to eat and some proper food and sleep.

"...the fucker exploded into red mist! Farm equipment is brutal!"

"That uh. That explains why we didn't see a corpse."

"Skwisgahr ain't doing so great too, Charles, we're gonna get ya'll checked out."

"Thanks, boys."

Skwisgaar wipes part of his mouth as Toki keeps a hand on him and the other cradling Deaddy Bear. It sounds like they did find Charles. Good.

His ears ring for half a second, before he sees Charles carried by Nathan and Murderface. Behind them is what looks like a nurse and a paramedic, and a Klokateer with a duffel bag slung on over a shoulder - if he recalled correctly, many of the non-combat Gears had been left in chapters scattered throughout cities to help in the days of the prophecy but to still see them around was --

"Wowies, a Klokateers?!"

"Lord Wartooth, Lord Skwigelf, an honor. I have some emergency first aid kits and these two medical professionals volunteered to assist with what they could. Mr. Offdensen has been stabilized and can be treated for minor injuries while we look at Lord Murderface and Lord Skwigelf."

Pickles approached Toki with a diabetes monitor and insulin kit, while the paramedic looked at Skwisgaar, and the nurse looked over Murderface. Murderface was cleared physically of anomalies, and Toki was given a sticker and insulin to make sure his levels were stable. With that, Pickles and Nathan helped clean up Charles with the nurse ans Toki and Murderface kept Skwisgaar company.

With both sitting next to him, he only has to whisper as the paramedic does some final checks and gives him some medications.

"Sos, Williams, Toki. When amns you thinkings dat Nat'en and Pickle finallies realizes de truth?"

"Truth about what, Skwischgaar?"

"... you amnst sees it!?"

Toki sticks out his tongue as he squints hard at the pair, busy trying to make sure they help. They're both helping Charles with his mangled hand, cleaning and bandaging what they can.

"...thats they sucks at doctors?"

"You amns dildos at dis. Nat'en and Pickles? De worry abohts eqch other? De way de boths amns so carings wit each other?" Murderface and Toki both let out a sound of realization, before excitement and shock creeps over both of them.

"Wait, you think they are together?!"

"That ams make it reals mom and dad?!"

"Looks, we amns smart and can sees it. We amnst idiots. We can sees what amns plains as light of days!"

At this point, Murderface looks at Skwisgaar and then Toki. Henarrows his eyes at the guitarists, as if he's expecting either of them to say something - Skwisgaar looks at him and gives him a questioning look instead.

"What, Williams?"

He just needed to find the people that wanted him first.

"You know what, Skwischgaar? You aschtound me. You really do." Skwisgaar smiled, as he realized that he hadn't felt cold for a while now. Here he was out in Danzig, in near Arctic temperatures, and he felt warm as if he was standing outside on a sunny day. Maybe he was wanted, after all.

Like Nathan, who reminded him he had more than just his guitar - he was Skwisgaar and he had his friends too.

Like Murderface, who reminded him his band wasn't just another gig, it was his friends who liked him for him.

Like Pickles, who reminded him that he didn't need to struggle alone, and apologies made people grow.

And like Toki, who showed Skwisgaar that he was someone worth trusting.

Who, despite all their up and downs, still wanted to be his friend. Who still wanted to play music with him.

Toki, who wanted to shine just as much as he wanted Skwisgaar to shine too.

Toki. His friend. His brother. His equal.

[euronymous-files]

"Euronymous was the guy who showed me prog. He gave me Klaus Schulze’s Time Winds, Tangerine Dream, all this stuff I liked. It blew my mind, every second listening to those albums. I was 14 or 15 when we would go to his record shop Helvete in Oslo with a packed lunch on the bus. He was a mentor musically and as a guitarist. The single most important thing as a guitarist was his masterclass. He stopped by our house, he had his guitar, I kept asking him all the time how do you get that sound. We were listening to the demos and he decided to take the guitar and show me. Everything good shaped from that."

source: Louder

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“I was lucky to get to know Euronymous, because I was such a small kid. Whatever esoteric, Satanic beliefs he had, he didn’t discuss them with me. All that we had in common was music and guitars. I remember going into his record shop and trying to impress him: ‘Do you have anything extreme?’ He was like, ‘Shut the fuck up! Listen to this!’ and gave me some Norwegian prog.” […] “I found out that Euronymous had been murdered by watching the morning news. It was horrible, but I’m glad that me and Grutle have been through this entire journey together. He had an even closer relationship with Euronymous; since they were [closer to] the same age, they could discuss vinyl collections and women and more grownup stuff. It would’ve been pretty bad if it weren’t for us being a duo and talking about it quite a lot. It was just a couple of years ago that Varg stopped bad-mouthing the people that were ‘on his side’, but there’s no side to be on in his case. It’s devastating because what he created was so unique and now it’s impossible to enjoy it."

source: Metal Hammer

[i0veless]

GUITAR STRING HEART 2 :: KYLIAN MBAPPE

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ sometimes they're an unexpected chapter in the story ] 𖥻 PAIRING ー [ kylian mbappe x fem! guitarist/singer! reade ] 𖥻 GENRE ー [ social media au, band au, ex's to ???, angst, fluff ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 3.9k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ mentions of arguements and ghosting people, drinking, jealousy, and suggestive content - let me know if I missed anything ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ HAPPY NEW YEAR, part 2. Let's go. Sorry, this is late, also not really happy with the way this turned at - but we move. I just want to thank you so much for all the love you have given part one while I'm writing this. It has 300+ notes, and it's only been out for a couple of days. words can't describe how much this means to me. also, part 3 will be the final part to this series - also if you see any mistakes ignore them please as they will be corrected later ]

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Walking off the pitch drenched in sweat and boiling with rage - Mbappe was anything but happy. His team had drawn, which would have been perfectly fine under normal circumstances. But not when he faced Halland. He had too much to prove to tie. he needed to win, but he didn't. Kylian would give anything at this moment to wipe the smug smirk off the Norwegian player's face. But his teammates had made a human blockade around him to ensure he didn't get into a physical altercation with the opposition's striker.

The PSG Team filled into their locker room, hot and rowdy, as they talked and laughed about the match. But not Mbappe, he was silent, and it was unnerving. The moment the man entered the room, he walked straight to his cubbie and pulled out his phone. He sat staring at his luminescent screen, fixated on the comments on all social media platforms commenting on who was better, Mbappe or Halland.

It was him - it had to be. There was nothing Halland could do that he couldn't do better. He was the next greatest, not some Norwegian nobody. Maybe in another life, the two could have been friends, heck they could have been friends in this life. If not for the constant parallels drawn between the two (which got very annoying), the other player constantly bashing him in the press, and the fact that his celebrity crush was non-other than Y/N L/N. A simple video of him confessing his admiration for the musician is ingrained in his mind as to why he hates the blond twit so much. He already wanted to steal his legacy, his spotlight and now the girl of his dreams.

There was no way in hell that he would let that happen. As Kylian's rabbit hole of thought spiralled further and further into the abyss, he stopped momentarily after feeling a firm hand on his shoulder. Hakimi noticed his friend's abnormally quiet demeanour and instantly understood what was happening. "You know you should stop looking for approval from people online," the Moroccan player said as he took a seat beside him. Letting out a heavy sigh in reply, the forward put his phone down and looked at the defender.

"you still thinking about her" Achraf was one of the only people, besides Neymar and Messi, who knew about Mbappe's relationship with the guitarist. So they were sad to hear that the two had broken up as they had never seen the player happier than when he was with Y/N. They understood why they had broken up, but it was clear that Kylian still had feelings for her, whether he liked to admit it or not, so the trio had a silent agreement that if a chance ever presented itself, they would play cupid.

"Do you know" the defender's question made Mbappe look up, confused about what he was asking. Choosing to show him rather than speak, Hakimi handed him his phone, showing a gossip page headline - Y/N was here. She was here, "Heads up, guys, incoming", Neymar yelled as all the players rushed to look more presentable. Most of the PSG team were Bloody Valentine fans, and the manager told them that if they won or drew, they would get to meet them. Their coaches told them this during the previous day's training. Too bad Kylian took that day off.

All eyes were on the door as it creaked open, with three figures entering shyly behind security. But one person was missing, and the security team quickly left the room, leaving the stars to mingle. As the players greeted the musicians, they invited them to take a seat. "Can I just say yall were fucking incredible, like oh my god fucking respect" Onyx started making the players laugh and thank him for the words of affirmation. "Thank you so much, man, that means a lot to us - glad we made it worth your time," Messi said, smiling at the trio with questioning eyes wondering where the 4th and most anticipated person was.

Noticing the curious glance from the footballer, Axel pulled out his phone and dialled Y/N's number, putting it on speaker. The phone rang twice before connecting - "Axe, I'm lost." everyone burst out laughing "where are you?" Sabrina asked through her laughter. "I have no fucking clue Bri." the confused guitarist said, the sounds of her footsteps protruding through the speaker. "Try and find a sign that can tell you where you are", Neymar suggested as the whole of PSG where now on board with project find Y/N.

All except for Kylian, who was still in a daze as he heard her voice. Mbappe reminisced. Her voice was still sweet like honey to his ears and gentle on his broken heart, reminding him of the remarkable woman he had lost- oh, how he wished he could take it all back. He needed her back. He realised that a long time ago, but boy, was that feeling stronger than ever. And vowed there and then that he would do everything in his power to ensure that Y/N ended up back in his arms, even if it killed him in the process.

The rest tried to help the girl find her way back. "Hate to break it to you, but I can't read french." the room was silent; this was a problem. "Babe, you took french for four years…" the bassist said with her face in her hands at her best friend's situation. "Just because I took it doesn't mean I was any good at it."

"Wait, is Johnny there?" the panic in the singer's voice made the situation ten times more amusing, "No, not yet, anyway. But seriously, where are you" Onyx said, now getting worried, "I'm working on it." she said, followed by more footsteps before the phone disconnected. Oh boy.

yourinstagram . 20min ago

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yourinstagram pov : your lost in parc des princes

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sab.rina where the fuck are you ⤷ yourinstagram bro I have no fucking idea

onyxisastone sexy mf ⤷ yourinstagram my boy

axeman johnny just called hurry up you dumb shit ⤷ yourinstagram on my way 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ ⤷ axeman why were you filming tiktok's then ⤷ yourinstagram 🫢🫢🫢

psg don't worry help is on it's way ⤷ user in psg we trust 🫡🫡 ⤷ yourinstagram 🫡🫡

user bestie what is going on?!?! ⤷ yourinstagram idk bro help me

user kylian and Y/N confirmed? ⤷ user shut up ⤷ user why it's just a question

user okay I know that everyones focusing on the fact that she's at parc des princes but can we take a moment to appreciate these photos ⤷ user facts

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Y/N was no genius, but at least her plan worked, bidding goodbye to the gorgeous fans she had met. She walked alongside the lovely middle-aged security guard, who introduced himself as Marco, down the labyrinth of corridors. She was skittish. Her heart hammered against her chest as she clenched her clammy hands and breathed slightly heavier than usual. As her head went into overdrive, she thought about what to do when facing Kylian. How should she act? What should she say? Should she ignore him - who fucking knew what she would do? All she understood was that this was going to be anything but easy.

Eventually arriving at the intended destination, the sweet security guard bid her farewell. Now left in front of the door. That may as well have led to hell, with fire and all. As her thoughts swarmed like wasps, she couldn't think straight. Her hand rested on top of the handle. Maybe I should have just stayed in the bathroom, she thought as she examined the door that separated her from the uncomfortable situation behind it. Letting out a deep sigh, the singer decided to get it over with - the quicker she got in, the faster she would get out. But when opening pandora's box, you never know what to expect.

Opening the door and stepping into the room quickly, the change in atmosphere was enough to give Y/N whiplash. In an attempt to enter quietly - she failed. With all eyes now on her, she tried to make herself seem less awkward as multiple eyes bore into her soul. "Whoever designed this stadium is either Albert Einstein or a fucking idiot." the guitarist was quickly embraced by her bandmates and ushered further into enemy territory. "Uh-huh, so you had time to post on Instagram, throw it back on tiktok, and tweet multiple times but are unable to find directions" Axel's face palmed at how stupid the idea sounded, but it worked in his friend's case.

"I'm just glad I got here before Johnny," The female vocalist said, rejoicing that she wasn't in trouble. "By the way, great match. You guys were amazing," she said, turning to face the PSG players, who thanked her as they all took a seat. Now comfortable on the floor, the players and musicians exchange questions regarding their professions. "Proudest moment?" Messi asked, receiving multiple 'ooh's' from the musical artists at the questions. "I've gotta say the Grammys. I mean, come on, we were nominated six times and won five - great night." Onyx said, "Uff, I've gotta say Coachella, that was mental" Axel considered

"What about you, Y/N?" Sabrina asked her friend, "We all know the answer", Axel said sarcastically. "Meeting Metallica", Cue groans from the rest of her bandmates. "What?" the singer laughed, looking at her bandmates, "baby, you are obsessed. Get help." Sabrina chimed in at her friend's fixation on the heavy metal band. "Okay, but Lars Ulrich knows who the fuck I am," the girl tried to reason with them, but it only dug her ditch further down. "We know we were there", Onyx sighed. "Then you should be able to grasp why this will be my only personality trait until I die."

As the band entered a heated discussion, Y/N almost forgot that she was in a room with her ex. However, she had yet to acknowledge him, avoiding all eye contact and keeping her distance. Safe to say, she thought no one had noticed - except someone had. Mbappe felt paralysed. He couldn't move or speak as he watched her in her little bubble, laughing and conversing with passion for the subject. Safe to say that the football player was jealous of Metallica for being such a crucial part of her life for so long - unlike him.

He thanked every god out there that they were all in their late 50s, knowing full well that if they were closer to her age, he would have more competition than he already did. I mean, who wouldn't want her? She was perfect. As he watched from afar, smiling at the self-proclaimed 'girl of his dreams, ' three other psg boys were scheming and preparing the beginning of what would be known as a project guitar string in one final attempt to get the soulmates back together again.

As the group continued to talk and laugh, Neymar suggested they take a group photo. As the group crowd around, the camera 5-second timer. Y/N stood obliviously in the middle of Messi and Neymar. Not realising it, Neymar removed himself from her side and, in his place, put Kylian, forcing his arm around her waist. Multiple pictures later, Y/N was still oblivious that she was cuddling into her ex's arm as the sound of the locker room door opening interpreted their photo shoot. None other than Mangere extraordinaire Johnny entered, "Good to see that your all are getting along."

"Well, I would think I would let you know before your coach tells you - that we're returning the favour and have got your tickets to tomorrow's concert and after party." safe to say that the entire team were over the moon. As Y/N turned to her correctly, expecting to see Neymar only to be greeted by the face of the man she spent countless nights crying over - Kylian fucking Mbappe. Frozen in place and on the verge of a panic attack. Only to be discretely dragged out of the touch of her ex by non-other than Sabrina.

Ignoring the searing heat from where his arm rested on her exposed skin, Y/N patiently waited for her friends to finish talking so they could leave - praying for them to be fast. When Hakimi approached her, the two acknowledged each other before falling into a pregnant silence. "You know he never stopped loving you," the Moroccan said before walking off - and with that, it was time to leave.

psg

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psg nos rockstars préférées - translation our fav rockstars

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bloodyvalentines équipe de football préférée translation - fav football team ⤷ onyxisastone ❤️ ⤷ sab.rina ❤️ ⤷ axeman ❤️ ⤷ yourinstagram 🤍

user 🔥🔥🔥

user my favs

Y/N hey u up?

HALLAND yeah why?

Y/N you down to hang out or somethin?

HALLAND yeah sure everything alright?

Y/N yeah all good I'll swing round your hotel room?

HALLAND sounds good do you mind if the boys hang to they have been dying to meet you

Y/N yeah sure the more the merrier

HALLAND cool i'll text yeah the address

Y/N okay

Knocking on the door to the hotel room, Y/N messed with one of the rings on her finger. As the door opened, she was met with the comforting sight of the blond Norwegian she had grown fond of as he allowed her to enter. With a shut of the door, shedding coats and a brief exchange of greetings, the two walked towards the sitting room where the group of man city players sat playing FIFA. "Hey guys, look who's here." a slight turn of the head turned into a wave of shocked gasps and stunned faces, "And she's bought alcohol", the blond finished as they sat amidst the city squad.

"So she can play the guitar, sing, and is considerate - might as well change ya name to angel" Jack Grealish's heavy Birmingham accent made the singer smile - it reminded her of home. As the group opened the bottles of alcohol and shared them amongst themselves, they continued to talk and play FIFA. Talking with some of the other boys but still sticking close to halland, she enjoyed herself. She was indulging in alcohol, playing FIFA, and talking with her lovely new mates.

Completely forgetting the whole reason she came. To find a place to seek refuge from her argument with Axel. Y/N did appreciate them for worrying about her, but she felt suffocated. She wasn't a child. Yes, she wasn't 100% okay, but she was good enough to get by - long enough to get out of this cursed city. Hours felt like minutes as the others turned in for the night, leaving three. Y/N, Halland and a bottle of vodka.

"Everything alright?" Halland finally asked, leaning forward slightly. "Have you ever been in love" the sudden question confused the blond. "Can't say I ever have. Why?" As the distance continued to reduce by the second. "Then you wouldn't know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest" It didn't take long for Earling to figure out who she was talking about, Kylian. Guess the rumours were true.

"he didn't deserve you." the sudden confession made the girl look up with teary eyes. "Really?" the two were clearly under the influence of alcohol, "yeah, if you were my girl, I would have never let you go" somehow, Earling's hand curved around her neck. His mouth coming down on her, hard and fast yet sweet and so, very gentle. one might have been sickened at the sight - the way they gripped onto each other as if the other would disappear. The way Y/N sighs into his mouth, her head lolling back as Halland's lips ghost over her neck.

As their intimacy escalated rapidly, with clothes now on the floor, they were both hyper-aware. Not even sure if they had locked the door - but that wouldn't stop them. Nothing would. They were high on each other and drunk on cheap liquor. They had no intention of stopping. It was wrong, and she knew it was wrong. So profoundly, intensely, and morally wrong. If it hadn't been for the fact that Y/N had been in an argument with her bandmate, she would have left it there that night. But she didn't.

She lets his lips latch onto her again, humming against his mouth as his whole body climbs on top of her, engulfing her in his warmth. But all she could think about was Kylian. The thought made her want to scream, that she was about to get dicked down by a hot Norwegian, and all she could think about was her fucking ex. But her thoughts weren't going to stop her - not tonight. Between the curses, moans and kisses, Y/N gave herself over to Earling in the most precious yet innermost way.

A way that she once only ever did with Kylian. And if it weren't for how she and Halland collapsed against each other in a heated mess, limbs tangled with lips finding one another's in the early morning hours. The singer could almost forget the troubling tsunami her momentary lapse in judgement caused. She wasn't sure what time it was when Earling's soothing voice interrupted her as she responded to Onyx's text message. "your so beautiful," he murmured, his fingers running past her eyebrow as he engraved the features into his memory. Y/N didn't answer. Because all she could do was draw comparisons in the comfort she was receiving, the sickening sense of Deja vu made her want to cry. What had she done?

yourinstagram . 20hr ago

seen by axeman k.mbappe and 12,333,212 others

AXEL where are you? I'm sorry please come back are you still made at me? answer my texts please I need to know that your alright

(39 missed calls)

AXEL please pick up

(58 missed calls)

SABRINA look axe is sorry please come back are you drinking I saw your Instagram story who are you with please respond I'm getting worried

ONYX look I'm not going to pester you to come back If you need your own space just respond if you are okay so I don't have to file a missing person report even though it hasn't even been 24 hours

Y/N :)

ONYX okay I'll see you in the morning stay safe bye

Y/N :)

Hangovers were the worst, but they came second to the walk of shame. Y/N left before Earling woke up, leaving a note and some food she had made after she showered - the message explaining apologising for the hasty exit and hoping to see him at the concert. Walking through the quiet Parisian streets, the singer decided to take a quick detour into a bakery to get a gift of apology to give to her friends for her storming out and ghosting them the entire night. She left the lovely bakery with various pastries and treats and continued her journey back to her hotel.

She arrived at her destination with shortness of breath courtesy of the stairs she walked up. Knocking on the door, she waited until she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. As the door flung open, seeing the messy state of Axel, who looked like he had been crying his heart out. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face was void of colour. Y/N had little time to eat her share of guilt, being pulled quickly into a hug. They stayed in the embrace for a while. The sound of a throat clearing brought them back to reality. "Come on, Axe, stop hogging her."

As the singer entered the room for the first time since the fight, she made sure that she patched things up with everyone before enjoying the treats she had brought. "So who were you with, cuz you did not spend the night alone with that much alcohol," Sabrina asked, taking a bite of her pastry and groaning at how good it tasted. "Spent it with a friend", the songwriter replied. "You spend it with a friend. I don't know, Y/N, that sounds hard to believe," Onyx said, knowing how difficult it was for his friend to socialise on her own.

"Alcohol makes things easier," the girl said without a second thought, but she instantly regretted it as her friends gasped - it turns out they weren't completely brain-dead. "Oh my god, did you…" Axel asked, trailing off and waiting for a reply. "Yeah, it sorta just happened," the singer said as she took another sip of orange juice. "It wasn't him, was it," Sabrina asked, genuinely concerned that Y/N ended up in Kylian's arms after the fight. "Oh god, no." the singer's eyes widened at the thought, though what she did maybe ten times worse in some people's eyes. "Look, you don't have to tell us, just know that we are here for you", and with those words of comfort from Sabrina, the group of four got ready to put on the show of a lifetime.

sab.rina . 2hr ago

seen by axeman yourinstagram and 9,778,622 others

onyxisarock . 2hr ago

seen by vicdeangiles ethanskin and 8,117,389 others

bloodyvalentine

liked by sab.rina k.mbappe and 45,911,346 others ➻ tagged yourinstagram sab.rina onyxisarock axeman

bloodyvalentine are you ready paris

comments have been limited

yourinstagram can't wait

sab.rina dame who are those cuties? ⤷ onyxisastone idk where can I get their number

axeman 🔥🔥🔥

user can't wait for tonight

user wish i had tickets

axeman

liked by onyxisastone yourinstagram and 30,119,696 others

axeman been ready my whole life

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[hollyony666]

Euronymous- by me <333

(This poem is written from the point of view of Euronymous who is the lead guitarist of a Norwegian black metal band called Mayhem. A lot of people believed that the ideology of his band and who is qualified to even listen to their music was cult-like. So I give you a god, or in this case, satan complex that comes from the ego of Euronymous)

Raging sounds of satanic worship fueled my existence.

A difference within a difference was my promo.

Everyone’s demonic desires squelch 

with plucks of my bloody fingers.

Six stringed instruments built my callus hands.

My birth name has no match 

For what Satan has presented for me.

“Euronymous!”

 they will scream.

I will peer from the deepest depths of my pedestal

And see worshipers praising,

Praising my new hellish name.

Death will be my friend

And he will guide my music to the deserved.

Fire within my soul

Will be used for the destruction

Of the humans of which I despise. 

My rivals will fall.

Church bells will collapse upon them.

My true form will soar

All of the power from hell will be mine

Mayhem will be the word of the world

Euronymous will be the name of the new found god. 

Dead.

Necrobutcher.

Manheim.

Hellhammer.

My cultists.

We shall share the unholy evig ære!

[vivicheri]

Can I get Dethklok with a pastel goth reader?

You sure can!

Pastel Goth x Dethklok

Nathan Explosion:

Judges a little bit on what you wear because he might not find it “brutal” enough at first

However, he does eventually come around and he begrudgingly allows you to pastel him up.

The big guy acts like he’s above being pampered and getting makeup thrown on him, but truthfully he doesn’t mind at all. As long as you’re the one doing it, he’s happy.

Asks a couple of questions about being pastel goth, and you guys have in depth conversations about it.

Develops a respect and understanding for pastel goths, and considers it to be brutal. Also, he just admires how cute and sexy your outfits are, regardless of the color scheme.

If anyone dares to make fun of you, he simply holds you closer and ignores them, asking a little hesitantly if you’re okay when you’re both alone.

Pickles:

His past experience with makeup from Snakes n Barrels definitely helps him understand your style more. He for sure helps you with your eyeliner, and he takes the time to admire your beauty.

Isn’t crazy about the pale colors, but incorporated with black is pretty cool.

Literally as long as you feel confident, he supports you no matter what

He’s all about supporting what makes people feel comfortable in their own skin (trans pickles hc is incorporated here)

He is all about picking out the gothic parts of your outfit, while you pick out the pastel parts. Team effort, he’s a fuckin’ sweetie.

Because he’s such a sweetheart, if there’s a chance that you get made fun of in public for how you look, you hardly think about it because pickles knocked them right to the floor in one foul punch. And he will reassure you and show you off.

Murderface:

Somewhat misogynistic at first depending if you present as feminine. He’s like “of coursh women have to ruin the goth look!”

He might make some bad jokes about you being goth and you might have to playfully punch him.

He doesn’t want a single person to judge you, especially in public. He will curse someone out if anybody tries to bark at you or is just an asshole.

After some time, Murderface might start to dress a bit more gothic, experimenting with mascara and eyeliner. You have to help the poor bass player, but you don’t mind at all. Having him in your grasp is just euphoric in itself. And no matter how much he pisses and moans, he likes it too.

Couldn’t tell the difference between pastel goths and e-people for a while, and you had to explain it to him a few times before he understood.

Overall, he’s pretty cool about it, but it takes him some time.

Toki:

It’s no secret that the Norwegian has some personality traits that are similar to that of a child. Does not make him a child, but it makes him appreciate the usage of softer colors.

Is an absolute sweetheart and can watch you model pastel gothic outfits for him all day. He’ll even make it like there’s a runway for you, snapping some photos with a wide smile on his face.

Will actually kill somebody if they judge how you look. He will lay them out like that one guy in that one episode. (I’m great at references, I know.)

He fucking adores you and will 100% support right from the get go, and will ask to come along when you go clothes shopping.

The guitarist definitely likes to pamper himself up too, and he would love to match some outfits with you :) he will even do his hair the same way you do yours, although you might need to fix it.

I’m probably biased because toki is my actual husband and I love him so so much

Skwisgaar:

The lead guitarist is a little bit weary at first, but here’s the reality; he fucking loves the feminine form. If it’s shown off in any way, he will not care what you wear. Hell, he thinks you could pull off wearing a trash bag.

He preferably likes it when you mix baby blue into the mix, because his eyes are nearly that shade. He wants to be a part of you in that way, and you definitely comply.

He likes to wear white and black, not so much pastel colors. However, he tries his best. He might surprise you with baby blue elements in his outfit, or maybe a light pink accent.

Absolutely gives no fucks about what anybody thinks about you, and his voice echoes through your ears instead of what some jackoff said.

He won’t mind if you try to do his makeup, but he’s actually pretty proficient at it himself. When you’re mad about how your makeup didn’t turn out right, he’ll fix it delicately with the swipe of the thumb, or the extra bit of mascara.

All in all, he’s supportive and thinks you look just as attractive in that style, if not more!

Aaaa thank you for another suggestion! I tried. Also, just got back from the dethklok concert :3

If y’all like the stories please give me a follow! I would really appreciate it and would give me initiative to keep writing!