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vivisextion · 3 years ago

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I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

#Joey Jordison #Slipknot #Murderdolls

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1ddotdhq · 4 years ago

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☘️Fri 18 Dec ‘20 💬

So today was a nice steady change of pace, huh? Louis sold out shows, Harry was on a run, Liam was on Omegle, and Niall was being Irish.

Harry was spotted out and about in LA today on his daily jogs! He was wearing head to toe Nike and a black mask, which honestly is very sexy of him, love to see that. He was voted GQ’s most stylish man of the year (by fans!), and was 28th (haha) on Hollywood Reporter’s Breakout Stars of Hollywood. Ah yes, because, as we all know, Fine Line was the very first thing he’s ever done, career-wise, nope, nothing of note before that. Anyways, following all of the, uh, excitement (?) on the Harry front, twitter went and trended ‘harries’. Or that could be because ‘louies’ spent most of the day trending, too. You know them - otp: next to you!

The European leg of Louis’ tour (now scheduled for next year!) went on sale early in the morning and it sold out just as quickly: Warsaw, Vienna, Prague, Zurich, Oslo, and Reykjavik have been added to the list of SOLD OUT Louis concerts, that’s some KING SHIT RIGHT THERE! Before that, he went online last night to like TWO separate posts of the exact same picture of Wayne Rooney’s son signing to Manchester United, which I know nothing about, except that the player being signed is an 11 year old kid and that has to be a bit unusual, no? Speaking of kids, his sisters (who are SIXTEEN) also tried to get people to understand, after even Louis' direct intervention wasn't enough, that it’s a bit odd to be so interested in how tall Louis is (or is not). Uh, yeah, it kinda is, and it’s SUPER peculiar (to steal Harry’s word - that Louis stole,) that people are bugging sixteen year olds about it. Maybe don’t. Anyways, they also said that he would be home for Christmas, and that they’re excited to see him. That’s coming up soon, for anyone who hasn’t been keeping up with Liam’s advent!

Which, on today’s alarm, Roman and Liam compared the worst Christmas presents they’ve ever received (socks for Liam, bongos for Roman). If you want to give a GREAT present, though, Liam’s christmas merch is out, and it’s very, very cute: a red beanie with a white puff, red and white socks, and an ‘LP’ Christmas ornament, as well as a hoodie and T-Shirts with an intricate ‘Liam Payne Christmas’ design. We got Liam’s full iHeart interview from last week, where he talked a bit about his own christmas traditions and promoted Naughty List, which was added to the F1 Tracks playlist on Spotify and that’s ONE fandom crossover I didn’t see coming! And then the ‘Liam and other people part’ of the day: Liam went live on instagram again today. It was Liam and Tom Felton promoting Tom’s Boxing Day veeps show and being very cute and talking about possible future collaborations, and Tom signed off by saying “kisses on the bum!” which MADE MY WHOLE DAY! And Liam was STILL in a chatty mood, apparently, because he and Maya then went on omegle to chat up random people and serenade them with Naughty List. I gotta say, they FULLY put their faces out there and they're WAY braver than I am for it. I am VERY interested in what they typed into the “interests'' bar to be matched up with strangers, but I’m sure we’ll find out more as more pictures come out.

Niall released his ‘Dear Patience’ performance in the Royal Albert Hall show, saying in his newsletter that, “if this year has taught [him] anything, it’s how to be more patient...this song has taken on a whole new meaning for me”. He also made TheThings list of “10 pop stars who were completely self taught” (I’m sure Helene appreciated that). He also took to instagram to promote ALONE, which is a charity that helps prevent homelessness amongst the elderly in Ireland. “Proud to be Irish,” Niall said, which was a shocker to everyone, I’m sure. And, in reply to someone on twitter saying that Heartbreak Weather ‘a gem of an album’, he said “tell your mates”. Guess that means he’s done ghosting us on twitter, or at least when he’s got something to promote!

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #liam payne #niall horan #honestly im taking to my new role as hot oli like a jewel fish to water #which is to say i adore it #i said it yesterday and i'll say it again today; if any of the official HQs want to hmu about taking my places as an intern #that's totally cool w me #NOT TAKING MY PLACE AS IN IM NOT GONNA DO IT BUT TAKING MY PLACE AS IN BEING AN ADDITIONAL MEMEBER #they can pry these posts out of my cold dead hands im too attached to the team #also today's been a nice little day #anyways!#song of the day!#Cobracaine by the DMAs #also! the 'ghosting' joke IS a JATP reference in case you got that!

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justalokifanaccount · 3 years ago

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Episode 2-Play by Play Reactions (Spoilers)

Ooooooh mysterious...

Oh so this variant can (at least briefly) cont people with a simple touch? No need for a scepter?

I NEED A HEROOO!

Oh this variant is taking that lady away? I wonder why

Miss Minutes is gonna move me to violence

Loki is me studying

Hahahahaha get her Loki!

Loki, leave Mobius’ magazines alone

Wow he got into the work force rather fast huh? Bit of a whiplash type scenario considering the end of episode one

No, YOU’RE a cosmic mistake! 😤 my boy looks hot regardless

Sooooo Loki is the most common variant? Why does this not surprise me?

Is... is he a football cup champion??? Omg 😂

Smart boy. Illusion projecting is different than duplication casting. Neato. LISTEN TO MY SMART BOY. RESPECT HIM.

Dude loves wheeling

Yea Loki. Work on getting to the time keepers. Overthrow the government.

Dude is smart with these questions.

Propaganda is INDEED exhausting so that’s fair

Fist hostage... maybe he’s (or she?) gonna use her as a body transfer like Loki in the comics with Sif?

Oh please let this be a genuine smart Loki moment and not just setting him up as a joke and embarrassment...

“Where there are wolf’s ears, wolf’s teeth are near.” Good to know basic mammalian anatomy is still applicable to Asgardian wolves...

Cmon Loki do something cool. Please. Please Loki. Please.

Preach my man, but please, do something cool. My anxiety that you’ll be turned into a joke is spiking.

Is he actually waiting outside or is Loki really just trying to mess with them and throw them off? Or is he just being too cocky for his own good and it’s gonna mess him up? Please please please don’t disappoint me. I have merch for this show already that I can’t return

Bargain baby, bar again. Do it.

Is he actually concerned for the time keepers orrrrrr

Dangit Mobius

Does... being reset... hurt?

Bye C-20 I guess... for now? We’ll see

Of course it’s a friggin theremin that’s playing

Mobius x Judge Renslayer? Oooooooh. Tsundere Renslayer.

Use a coaster my man

Oh her first name is Ravonna

Controversy is the best thing though

You can never understand this Loki. As soon as you begin to understand, he changes. He’s unpredictable.

“I know you have a soft spot for broken things.” Ah, so this entire fandom then?

“But Loki is an evil, lying scourge.” YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU WENCH!

“That is the part he plays in the sacred timeline.” Well you clearly haven’t been paying enough attention to the files then, hm? Here, let me redirect you to one of the many character analyses I’ve written. Now if you read here........

He doesn’t need to change. He’s already not evil

I don’t trust Renslayer or the time keepers... or Renslayer WITH the time keepers... I think she plays a bigger, antagonistic role than I thought.

You just TRY and delete him Mobius... just... TRY... I will find a way to break the fourth wall and no time keepers can keep you safe from the rage of a million fan girls. Nothing... we don’t need magic...

Omg Loki just sitting there in a chair outside the office like a kid while their parent is talking with the teacher about their “recent behavior”.

Cmon Loki, you don’t need to make excuses or impress him.

My poor boy is SOOO out of his zone.

Tbf mobius, you ASKED. You asked what makes him tick.

Hey hey hey, let’s not gaslight my boy...

The Loki is... uhhh something... gotta keep my hopes up. Trust in Tom Hiddleston...

Mobius showing his true colors...

Please Loki... be badass... not just a joke... please please please... PLEASE!

Mobius, play nice.

I hope this “superior” Loki thing, if it is a female, isn’t a desperate attempt at feminism pandering, chocking up her “superiority” to being female. Please give the characters real stories. Flesh them out.

Juice box time?

No?

More homework?

Bugger...

The sass is off the charts

Librarian lady gonna get killed

Oh boy

Pffffft—

I miss Casey.

Hey don’t ignore Loki. That’s rude.

Bell is the answer?

Poor Loki. Stop trying to fit in. You are best when you are genuinely yourself.

What’s to stop Loki from grabbing the other files?

Homework... I thought I escaped this when I graduated...

Whatcha seeing there?

Oh...

Bye bye Asgard...

Cmon... not more feels.

AGGHHHHHHHH

Please allow him confirmation of Thor’s survival and beating of Thanos!!! He needs that confirmation! He needs that reassurance.

Hear him out Mobius.

“He’s hiding in apocalypses.” Sooooo is that why they go to presumably Mount Vesuvius? I assume?

Mobius, let Loki have your salad.

Rip salad

CASEY

Casey’s juice box

Poor Casey and mobius salad...

Loki, your logic astounds me.

Well, pushing Hulk off of the bridge WOULD have an effect...

VESUVIUS HERE WE COME

He hasn’t really stabbed anyone in the back... except Thor... but not 50 times

Pompeii, here we come!

Ooooooh we gonna see Loki dance with a lady? 😏 get ittttt

Well, if you do cause a branch, can’t you just reset the timeline?

CAUSE SOME CHAOS MY LOVELY MAN

OMG IM HEARING THE LOVE OF MY LIFE SPEAK ITALIAN

I can die happy now

Loki... you look insane.

Uhhh run

Okay you’re good

Sleepy Loki

Let him sleep!

Soooo, I mean, technically, Loki’s actions would still cause the timeline to change, but said change wouldn’t have an impact on the future, just the current moment... so shouldn’t it still be detected by the TVA? At least as a little fleck?

Jet skis?

Omg I just snorted at Loki begrudgingly agreeing with Mobius that jet skis are awesome

Mobius offending my History Teachers for 50 minutes straight... that’s it. That’s the episode.

Mobius really in love with jet skis for some reason

We better get to see Mobius on a jet ski

Fighting for jet skis?

Lol mobius has a point about the magical Asgardians and Jötunns

Glorious purpose

Cmon Loki, destroy this man’s beliefs.

OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT

DO IT

TEAM UP AND THROW THE TIMELINE INTO CHAOS

How would you know what the time keepers are doing when you’ve never met them?

How can you meet in peace at the end of time with no chaos?

“You see, I know something children don’t. That no one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is ever truly good.”

Mobius, don’t patronize my boy. Go jet skiing.

“I know.” Oh good, that point in the trailer was edited.

No candy on Asgard? Poor Loki.

May the best man win? Well that automatically means Loki.

Getting National Treasure vibes

Love you

Alabama will still exist in 2050? That’s disappointing.

Roxxcart.

Loki is very smart. Thank you show.

Renslayer, if you claim Mobius is your friend, trust him.

Kachow!

“For all time.” “Always.” TVA is definitely a cult.

Weapon?

WEAPON!

...weapon???

no weapon...

Meanie...

Are we gonna see what this Loki variant looks like?

I have a feeling this variant is gonna be the female, blonde (I’m so sorry, at the moment I forget her name) in those pictures we saw. Guessing because 1) she was wearing a Loki outfit. 2) her and tom Hiddleston were wet in that picture as if rained on 3) the scene when they enter Roxxcart occurs when it starts to rain due to the upcoming massive storm. So I’m placing all of my money on the table the Loki variant is Lady Loki. Blonde, for some reason. (Or maybe she just didn’t have a wig on in the picture of her we saw?)

Yea please don’t prune this Loki.

Storms a brewing

Good to know Alabama, at some point, does get destroyed. That’s comforting. (Btw this is a joke. I have nothing against Alabama lol. Idk why my brain thought this was funny lol.)

All wet and rainy.

HAHAHAHA USE THAT MAGIC BABY

LET MOBIUS STICK WITH LOKI

Ooh ooh! Is Loki gonna use powers to yoink the roomba here?

Uh oh. Forgot to take into consideration that most big businesses, especially stores, have security cameras, huh?

Times ticking...

Wait was that a reset charge?

Awkward silence

Spookyyyy

Poor dude lol

Or not

Hmmm

Oh???

I RECOGNIZE THAT MAGIC!!! ITS HER!!!

HUNTER (forget her number) IS THE LOKI VARIANT!!! When was she replaced? Or was she always the variant?

That or the other Loki is projecting herself into the hunter? Maybe used the shopping dude as a conduit?

Moment of realization

Smiling contest

No no, Tom Hiddleston’s Loki is superior. I don’t care who else tries to play Loki, Tom IS Loki.

Oh no

Baby crying?

These poor people...

No need to be rough

Is Mobius genuinely caring

Oh... poor C-20

Team up please? Please?

Ah so they really can just send themself into any body they wish, huh? Just by touch?

Loki, learn that trick please.

Sooo, is the other variant Loki’s body tangible? Do they project their conscience into other bodies via touch, or do they not have a corporeal body and rely on others to exist?

Doctor Who vibes

TEAM UP PLEASE

YES

Please

Please?

Offended by Loki name?

Haha sympathy for Thor

Go randy.

Soooo what are you interested in if not ruling the TVA?

Who’s that planting charges? The real body of the other variant Loki?

You okay C-20? (Off topic her actress reminds me of the actress who played Ava Star aka Ghost in Ant-Man and the Wasp) what is real and what about it is so mind capturing for you?

Oh no

Poor girl

Cmon B-15

Hello?

Reset charge

Oh? Bye bye?

HEY!

That’s rude

I miss Randy too

Cmon Loki fight like the badass I know you are

Please

HAHA! TELEKINESIS

Cartwheel WEEEEE

Oooh he swore

Lokis have a pattern of swearing only while taking other peoples forms

Cmon Loki. Go back to mobius. Help them. Prove your goodness. Please.

Poor trucker man

Hello?

Hello!

Fave reveal?

I KNEW IT

Oh????

Flashlights?

RUN!

Is this actually a Loki variant or just sylvie? Or Amora?

Uh oh...

What’s happening

Is she absolutely destroying the timeline?

Poor Doctor Strange. I wonder if he knows about the TVA?

Loki is all alone? Why is he standing still?

Where is she going?

Cmon Loki... help them please...

Loki...

CLIFF HANGER

NOOOOO I CANT WAIT ANOTHER WEEK AGHHHHHHHH

Are they gonna be okay?

How is the variant traveling?

What is her goal?

Why is Loki going after her?

Why is Loki leaning towards the apparent evil side?

Is this actually lady Loki or sylvie or amora since her hair is blonde?

WHAT IS HAPPENING???

So much just happened in so little time. It’s like Marvel wants to slowly spoon feed us with the first 3/4 of the episode and then in the last 1/4, they waterboard us.

Why is this female Loki variant so much more powerful?

So Loki DID know what was going on at the Renaissance fair and was intentionally stalling for her... why?

Her horned helmet is similar to the one kid(?) Loki wears in the comics. One horn broken. How did that happen? Why does she still wear it, especially if she doesn’t want to be called Loki?

No end credit scene yet.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #disney #loki on disney+#Loki show #Loki series #disney plus #disney+#disney+ loki #loki disney #tom hiddleston #Loki episode 2 #loki spoilers #loki reaction

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years ago

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When They Meet Your Ex

Risotto Nero

Risotto would crush your ex’s head between his goth gf tiddies if he ever tries to get anywhere close to you.

You were on a park date on a late evening, not wanting to attract attention, but Risotto’s hat bells seemed to attract all the attention from passer-bys...

And by that, I mean cute little stray kittens would tried climbing up his pants to reach the bells.

Seeing you giggle at that, he only sighed and with the ghost of a smile, he suggested you sit down by the tree and play with the kittens.

It was all super cute at the beginning, seeing your lovely smile made his heart go WRYYYY with happiness, but that was rather short lived.

“Huuh? Y/N, that you? What are you doing with that weird looking clown? And why do you look like you’re wearing his way too large and washed out Metallica Tshirt?” hearing that familiar voice, you gasped and looked up, only to see the irritating face of your ex. “Honestly...Can’t I get a nice and quiet night without you around? Actually, why did you even stop? Come on, go away! I don’t feel like killing my braincells speaking to you again.” you humphed, looking away from him. “Awe, don’t be so hostile with me, babe! You definitely weren’t like that some time ago.” he smirked, as your eye twitched in annoyance. “Don’t call me that! It’s disgusting hearing that coming from your filthy mouth! You lost that privilege long ago!” your voice was lower, dripping with poison with each word. “I don’t think you should be speaking to me like that, considering how much you downgraded. Were you that desperate that you just forced yourself on the first person you saw?” he asked in a patronising voice. “I’m not you to force myself on people who don’t like me.” your voice even harsher now, but your big tiddy goth gf decided to step in. “To think that someone like you would speak like that about my girlfriend in front of me...You sure are a dumb fuck.” Risotto’s deep and dark voice echoed through the park as he stood down, towering over your ex. “Y-You’re not that scary, y’know?” your ex stuttered out those words, but that only made your boyfriend smirk. “Is that so...? Y/N, do I have your permission to teach this shrimp a lesson? No Stand needed, just my fists.” he asked, cracking his knuckles. “Permission granted. Just give me a good view of his blood flying around and I’ll be happy. I’ve been dreaming for this guy to get beat up for so long!” you giggled, leaning down on the tree with a relaxed look, with kittens all over you, as you enjoyed the show, your sweet boyfriend cursing the bastard over and over again, with each punch.

By the end of it, after making sure there’s no more blood on his hands and the jerk ran away, you called him to put his head on your lap, and kissed him tenderly, a smirk on your face.

“Who’d have thought that the best revenge is served bloody.” you chuckled, playing with his beautiful silver hair. “I would know.” he said simply, letting out a calm exhale.

---

Bruno Buccellati

You were at the restaurant with the team, as Bruno was away on a little errand and asked you to make sure the gang doesn’t destroy the restaurant, which wouldn’t really be a surprise, to say the least, but still.

“Okay, Narancia, I know you can do it. This is pretty easy, but you have to focus and take it one step at a time. What is 5 x 6? Take your time.” you asked sweetly, as you stood behind Narancia’s chair, your arms around his neck, your chin resting on the top of his head as he kept thinking and trying to count on his fingers. “Uh....30! Right? Right?” he asked energetically. “Yes, that’s right, congrats! And now, how much is 9 x 7? I know it’s a bit more difficult, but take you time and you’ll get it right!” I tried to hype him up, which made Mista and Fugo chuckle. “I honestly don’t have a clue how you can have so much patience with that braindead idiot.” Fugo complained, leaning back on his chair. “OI! WHO’RE YA CALLING A BRAINDEAD IDIOT?!” Naracia jumped on his feet as if electrocuted, which made me gasp and throw my arms around his torso, trying my best to keep him from fighting with Fugo. “Guys, settle down already! You don’t want to give Bruno trouble, do you?” I tried to reason, but they were long gone in their own word, while Mista was laughing, Giorno was pretending he didn’t know them and Abbacchio was ignoring us by listening to music. “Woaw...You’re a mess as always. Who are these guys anyway? Your groupies? Nah, these 2 seem way too young for that...They couldn’t be your kids, could they?!” a weirdly familiar voice called out from the entrance of the private space where we ate our meals, which made everyone stop what they were doing, snapping their heads towards the new person. “Oh...It’s you. Great, my day can’t get any worse, can it?” I dragged my hand down my face in aggravation. “So they ARE your children! What the hell, you said you didn’t want any children! I begged you so much, and you still denied me! And now?! What the hell, Y/N?!” he shouted, his eyes wide with shock. “These guys are 15 and 17, so if you can come up with a viable explanation on how I, at Y/A years old, could possibly have them as children, then congratulations, you win. Otherwise, I have to say, you’re the most braindead person I’ve ever met...Which wouldn’t be a surprise, considering everything.” I sighed, walking in front of him, staring him down, despite the height difference. “And who do you think you are, speaking to me like that, you little bitch?!” he screamed in your face. “Oi, Y/N, need a little help beating up this guy?” Abbacchio’s low voice called out, but you merely shook your head. “Nah, this is more personal. Listen, idiot, you aren’t allowed here. Restaurant’s rules. This place is reserved only for us, so get your sorry ass away from here before I kick you...Not that you wouldn’t like it, seeing how much of a masochistic freak you are.” you growled, pushing your finger into his chest repeatedly, to make him step way, but he grabbed your wrists tightly. “I think I’ll be leaving this place with you-” he began to speak, before a hand grasped his shoulder from behind so hard that he yelped in shock and pain.

“Now, now, I think mia bella told you already that this is a private place and you should leave. Unfortunately for you, you were stupid enough to touch her, so now you must suffer the consequences for your actions.” Bruno, glaring at the jerk, grabbed him by the shirt and threw him out of the restaurant, before talking to someone on the phone and returning to you, kissing your temple and holding his arm around you protectively, as he guided you back to the table. “Are you my guardian angel, Bruno? You always come to my aid when I need it the most, yet least expect it.” you chuckle, leaning your elbow on the table and gazing at him with a tender look. “I’d say it’s the other way around, but I won’t complain either way. Don’t worry about him, he won’t bother you again, I made sure of that.” he held your hand, intertwining your fingers together, before leaning on his chair, smirking at the others. “How did they behave today?” “On their best behaviour, of course! They are always little angels, and look! Narancia’s getting better at multiplying!” I clap in glee, showing him the new pages in his notebook. “Great job, Narancia, well done! And you, Fugo, for not getting angry at him.” Bruno praised them, but the two only shared a look of unease, as they laughed awkwardly, nodding.

--- Abbacchio Leone

You and Abbacchio were enjoying your day off together at a little cafe in town, knowing very well that none of the guys would bother you the whole day, so you were both pretty happy with that.

Your hand was over his, on the table, as you discussed random bands and were hyped about upcoming concerts in Italy that you were definitely going to together and would buy matching merch that you could wear and flaunt off how cool the two of you were together.

The problem is, however, when someone suddenly put their hands on your shoulders, making you jolt in your seat in surprise, before twisting behind to see who it was -

Only to have the misfortune of seeing your ex.

“Oh great, just what I needed. I got rid of the gang’s annoying antics, but I have to see another, much worse...Argh, whatever, I won’t even bother. Just leave, I don’t want to deal with you.” you roll my eyes, turning back to Abbacchio, obviously with a dramatic hair flip. “Awww, come on, admit that you missed me. I mean, what is this? Your new goth girlfriend, or what? I know I’m irreplaceable in your heart, but come on, no need to pretend that you don’t miss me.” he smirks, sitting on the empty chair next to you. “Oh, bother...” you facepalmed, looking at your boyfriend with an exasperated look. “Your tea is ready, sir, madam. Cherry Vanilla with extra Cinnamon.” the waiter put the teapot on the table, along with two cute little purple cups. “I am sorry, I thought it would be only the two of you. Should I bring another cup for the new sir?” the waiter asked politely, and while you were ready to deny, but Leone was faster than you. “Yes, please.” he answered simply, making you widen your eyes at him, but seeing his mischievous smirk, you realised his plan, which made you put your hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “You are very polite, dear Leone. More polite than I could ever be, I must confess.” you confessed, which earned a condescending laugh from your ex. “Well, you were never that much of a kind girl to begin with, Y/N, but that’s why I love you! We complete each other so well! I’m the good one, you’re the bad one...!” he trailed on, until the waiter brought the 3rd cup, and your ex tried to reach for the tea cup, but you slapped his hand away. “Go wash your hands! You can’t sit at the table with dirty hands! I don’t really care if you do it when you’re by yourself, but you should know by now that I’m hygene-obsessed!” you tried to reason without drawing suspicion to yourself. “Jeez...Can’t believe I stayed with a nagging bitch like you for so long...” he muttered under his breath, but got up and left for the bathroom anyway. “This is gonna be fun.” you giggled, as you poured the tea for for you and Leone, before putting the teapot back. “Now’s my part.” he smirked, as you looked away, giggling, not even able to stop as you imagined how funny it’d be. “I’m back now, babe! Did you miss me~?” he asked in what seemed to be a very failed smooth act, which made you scoff. “You wish.” you snorted, looking away. “Ah...You didn’t pour me tea too, how rude. Well, nevermind, it’s not like you ever had any initiative anyway.” he got the teapot and poured himself a cup, as you and Abbacchio sipped at the same time. “How do you like it?” you giggle, looking at him as he took a big sip from his cup, before gulping and choking. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! IT TASTES HORRIBLE!” he yelled at you, as you could barely stop yourselves from laughing. “It’s tea, what else could it be?” you smirked, watching his angry expression, as he tried to leap towards you, but Abbacchio was much faster, taking him by the scruff of his blouse and kicking him out, getting him banned from the cafe, before turning back and sitting with a large smirk on his face. “That was such a great success.” you laughed, high-fiving your smug boyfriend. “Nobody messes with my girlfriend...And honestly, this trick didn’t work with Giorno, so it just had to work with this idiot.” he chuckled lowly, before throwing away the remaining piss-tea and ordering another kind of hot beverage. “We’re the perfect duo, baby.” you kissed his lips while giggling slightly, before getting back to your seat and continuing your conversation from where you left it.

---

Kujo Jotaro

Today had been a very nice and peaceful day for Jotaro, and he intended on keeping it that way.

His mother didn’t annoy him too much with her goodbye kiss, the groupie that kept following him everywhere was rather tame today, not clinging on him as much, the teachers didn’t annoy him, the weather was fine, you promised to meet him in the park after school, with a bento prepared for the both of you, while helping him with some studies.

All went so well so far.

You were happy, and your bright smile managed to even put a smile on his face, and you two sat at the base of a very large and old oak tree, as you fed him the bento you cooked, and after that, you let him put his hat on your head, something he absolutely adored and made his heart beat faster, as he’d put his head on your lap and would let you stroke his hair, as you’d chat randomly and watch the clouds.

Everything was so perfect...

Or so Jotaro hoped.

But there just can’t be a perfect day without something bad happening.

Just as you leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Jotaro’s forehead, some people started approaching you. At first, neither of you thought anything of it, thinking it was just random people passing by, but that was far from the truth.

“Oi, oi! Who’s that over there? It that Kujo? With a girl?” the obnoxious voice echoed through the park, and while Jotaro was merely annoyed, you unintentionally remembered the voice, and flinched in annoyance. “Great, just what I needed today.” you grumbled, tipping the front of your hat, a habit you took from your boyfriend. “Yare Yare Daze...Do you know them?” Jotaro asked in a low voice, getting up and glaring at the 3 boys walking over. “Yeah...That bastard in the middle is my ex. Kill me now.” you sighed, hiding your face completely with the hat that was already extra large on you. “Ah! No way, is that you? Really? Y/N? What the hell? Didn’t you keep preaching how you wanted a smart boyfriend? Tsk...I knew it. You really aren’t as smart as you think you are.” he shook his head, whisking away the hat, making you immediately jolt to your feet, trying to get the hat away. “Get that back! Come on, don’t be a jerk! It’s not even mine, you have no right to take it away! Just give me the hat and go away, I really didn’t want to see you again!” you reached up, trying to get the hat, but it was out of your reach. “Only if you give me a kiss. Come one, Y/N, you broke up with me in such bad terms, why not make it better?” he tried to reach his hand towards you, but you slapped it away hard. “Don’t even think of touching me, you jerk! You don’t deserve anything!” you stepped back, glaring at him, but you didn’t realise you bumped into someone, until you looked up and noticed it was Jotaro. “You have 3 seconds to give back my hat and run away.” he threatened, but your ex was having none of it. “And who the hell do you think you are? Her little play toy? Don’t you know? He loves to play around until she gets bored! And then she’ll just throw you away like garbage! Come on, man, I’m looking out for a bro here!” your ex tried to reason, but Jotaro was having none of it. “I don’t appreciate trash like you talking like that about my girlfriend. You have 2 more seconds before you’re dead.” Jotaro glared threateningly at them, putting you behind him protectively. “E/N, man, you don’t know him? He’s Kujo Jotaro, he’s known in the whole city for beating everyone up, even teachers. He never lost a fight! I wouldn’t go against him!” one of his friends explained, backing away from him, not wanting to get caught up in this mess. “One...” Jotaro stepped forward, grasping the front of your ex’s shirt. “Fine, whatever, here’s your stupid hat, now let me go!” your ex threw the hat at him, which he grabbed with his other hand and gave it to you. “Time’s up.” Jotaro smirked slightly, cracking his fists. “What?! You said you’d let me go!” your ex seemed to have fear flashing in his eyes as he tried to step back. “I said you have 3 seconds to return the hat AND run away.” and with that, Jotaro unleashed a barrage of ORAs at your filthy ex, rendering him barely able to walk as he got away by his 2 minions. “Well, that was surely satisfying to watch.” you chuckled slightly, before returning to your spot at the base of the tree. “Thank you for that. It was a pretty fine revenge, to be fair.” you smirked softly, taking out your notebooks from your bag. “Yare Yare Daze...Only cowards these days.” he shook his head before smiling, seeing you with his hat back on your head. “I can’t deny that. But doesn’t matter, you’re the best anyway. There’s nobody who can replace you in my heart.” you put your hands on his face before stealing a quick kiss from him. “Come on now, dolphin boy, let’s see what you want to revise for the Entrance exam.” you grinned, lifting up the hat so you could see a bit. “That’s my girl.” the ghost of a smile plastered on his face, as he put his arm around you, leaning back the tree and having you leaning on his chest, relaxing with the notebooks in your lap.

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chelsfic · 4 years ago

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Leftovers - Part 3 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Read Parts One and Two: Masterlist

Summary: The gang goes to a roller derby bout. Things evolve between you and Nandor. Guillermo is still jealous and Nadja adores you.

A/N: I hope the tone of this part holds up with the first two parts. There are some more serious parts here. Thank you SO FRICKIN MUCH to everyone who has commented and sent me asks. You guys are lovely and I appreciate you.

Warnings: Some mild smut at the end, Same as previous chapters--blood drinking, vampire/human relationship, power differential, reader is described as being short and a roller derby player

---

Guillermo sits with his hands folded in his lap and a fragile smile on his face.

“How am I...adjusting? I’m--it’s--fine. I’m fine.”

The camera crew sits with him for a long moment of pointed silence. Guillermo shrugs, shakes his head, denying unspoken comments until he finally breaks.

“He gave her the upstairs bedroom. But I’m...everything’s fine. I just have to keep paying my dues.”

He goes back to dusting the fancy room, muttering under his breath, “Just keep paying my dues…”

---

“Knock, knock!” Nandor sing-songs, rapping his knuckles on the door frame of your new bedroom.

You look up from a stack of partially unpacked boxes. Guillermo helped you arrange everything. Breaking your lease without a penalty and getting all your stuff packed and moved over to the house. He did it all with nothing beyond terse civility despite your attempts at friendly conversation. You would really like to be friends with the only other human in the house but it doesn’t seem likely.

“Hey, Nandor,” you greet him with a hesitant smile. You’re still unsure of how you should behave. He doesn’t seem to expect you to be subservient like Guillermo. But something tells you not to push him either. He still hasn’t promised not to kill you in the end despite spending the last couple nights snuggling you like a human teddy bear inside his coffin.

He enters and perches on the edge of your new mattress, “Do you have everything you need? The bed seems...cozy.”

It’s really obvious to you that Nandor isn’t used to making small talk. At least not about human things. You wonder why he’s making the effort.

“Yeah, thanks. The room’s great. Are you sure I shouldn’t take Guillermo’s room and let him have this one? He’s been around a lot longer…”

“What, the closet under the stairs? Absolutely not, it smells in there. Can’t have my food smelling bad, yuck!” he grimaces in distaste.

You’ll have to find some other way of extending an olive branch to Guillermo…

“Hey, maybe you could...not call me food?” you suggest hopefully.

Nandor sighs and mutters under his breath, “So sensitive…”

With a roll of your eyes you turn back to your boxes. Nandor watches you plop down on the floor and resume digging out your things. After a moment, he comes over, kneeling behind you and practically engulfing you in his giant cape. His arms wrap around your middle. You can feel his long fingers through your shirt as they spread out over your stomach. He presses his face into the back of your neck and inhales your scent. The embrace should be unnerving and terrifying but you find altogether different sensations stirring in your lower belly.

“Why, my mortal?,” his whisper raises goosebumps along the nape of your neck. “Does it upset you to be reminded of how intoxicatingly delicious you are to me? Shall I pretend that your blood pulsing beneath the thin surface of your skin does not call to me?”

His lips are tracing over your skin now and you can just feel the sharp brush of his fangs. Your eyes drift closed and you lean back into his chest, entirely overwhelmed by his magnetism.

“Um...Nandor…” you whisper.

“Yes, my little human? What do you want?”

“You…” the word falls unbidden from your lips and you immediately wish you could swallow it back down.

His chest rumbles with a laugh that vibrates through you.

“You want me, mortal?”

You force yourself to clear your thoughts, scooting forward and breaking the embrace as you reply, “You...you have to wait until next week to feed from me again. Remember?”

He reaches out and ghosts his fingertips along the twin puncture wounds on your throat.

“It will be worth the wait.”

---

You jog down the curved stairway dressed for tonight’s bout with your gear bag slung over your shoulder. Nadja, Laszlo and Nandor are assembled in the front hallway getting ready to go out hunting and assigning last-minute chores for Guillermo.

“My mauve, brocade gown needs washing, Gizmo. I had a real squirter last night…”

“And don’t neglect the dusting in our crypt, old chap…”

“Guillermo, remember to pick up the candlesticks when you go out--oh! Hello, my human,” Nandor pauses when he sees you at the base of the stairs and you feel heat creep up your neck under his stare. Your mind flashes back to an hour ago when he’d held you in his arms and you’d felt the touch of his lips on your skin, so close to a kiss.

“Do you need anything from the store? Guillermo is going out,” he asks.

Guillermo smiles at you but it’s more of a display of teeth and you rush to shake your head, “Oh, no thank you. I’m heading out myself. My team has a bout tonight--”

Nadja squeals in delight and claps her hands, “You are doing a battle tonight, darling human? Oh, Laszlo let’s go watch the puny human fight. It will be such fun!”

You shake your head in amusement but Nadja’s enthusiasm is infectious even if you worry she’ll be disappointed once she sees what roller derby actually is…

Laszlo’s eyes trail down your body, taking in your black and purple sleeveless jersey and the black capri leggings hugging your hips and thighs.

“Do all the challengers dress in such a fashion?” he questions with a lecherous smirk. Nandor hisses and flicks him in the temple. “Ouch!”

You have to laugh.

“Actually, some of them wear booty shorts…”

---

“Look!” Nandor turns to the camera gleefully holding up a t-shirt with the name “Smashley Glowers” stamped in block letters on the back. “We can purchase a shirt with my human’s alias written upon it!”

He turns back to the attendant behind the merch table, “How much for this garment, peasant?”

“Uh--he’s just joking, heh,” Guillermo steps in waving his credit card. “I’ve got it, master.”

“Thank you, Guillermo,” Nandor says, pulling the t-shirt over his embroidered tunic with a wide smile.

The vampires and Familiar make their way to the bleachers beside the track. Your league plays in an ice hockey rink during the summer months. The track is carefully taped off on the floor and players glide around doing warm up drills: knee-taps, sprints, spins, plow stops and backwards toe stops. Then they turn around and do it all over again in the opposite direction. The crowd buzzes with energy and all four vampires feel it roll over them in a seductive wave.

Nandor turns to Nadja and Laszlo and whispers, “We probably shouldn’t kill any of these humans. I don’t think the mortal would like it…”

Laszlo looks put out but Nadja just nods absently as her eyes track the skaters.

“Yes, fine,” she says. “We can pick something up on the way home…”

Colin Robinson stands with a smug smile, “Lucky for me I have no such limit on my feeding habits. I’m gonna go mansplain the rules to that referee. Catch you later.”

“Look at our human, Nandor! She is very adept at the roller shoes,” Nadja gushes.

Nandor side-eyes her with a muttered correction, “My human… Yes, she is a fierce combatant.”

Soon enough an announcer’s voice comes over the sound system introducing each team. As your name is called Nandor and Nadja stand to cheer and even Colin Robinson lets out a tepid “whoop” from across the room where he’s started feeding off the merch attendant.

The bout gets rolling and you take your place with the other blockers, forming a line of defense that will hopefully be impenetrable. Or at least give your jammer enough time to make it through the pack and start scoring points.

The other team’s jammer approaches, juking to the outside of the track but you anticipate the play and hop to the left, meeting her on the inside and throwing your hip to check her out of bounds. Distantly you can hear a familiar accented female voice rise over the crowd.

“DID YOU SEE THAT!? GOOD JOB, HUMAN!”

The game flies by in a rush of adrenaline and joy and before you know it you’re slapping hands with the other team and skating over to join your spectators.

Nadja runs up to meet you, pinching your cheeks in her enthusiasm, “Smashley--a gruesome name for a brutal warrior woman. You were very impressive!”

“Thanks, Nadja,” you smile, feeling your chest lift with pride. “We lost, but I’m glad you liked it.”

Laszlo joins you with his characteristic smarm, “An excellent diversion, mortal. Tell me, are any of these women available for...private lessons?”

You narrow your eyes and look to Nadja to gauge if he’s joking or not. Nadja only shakes her head in exasperation.

“Remember what Nandor said, my love,” she croons. “No eating the mortal’s friends.”

Well, that’s...thoughtful, you guess.

Nandor glides in to join you with Guillermo on his heels. When you see the shirt he’s wearing your face lights up with a broad smile.

“You got my shirt?!”

Nandor preens, looking pleased with himself.

“Of course, mortal. I had to show my support for my champion in the ritual combat. Plus it looks really cool.”

You laugh and shift your weight on your skates, looking at him smiling down at you as butterflies wiggle in your stomach. What even is this? You have a crush on your vampire captor?

Nandor’s eyes take in the sheen of sweat across your forehead and your lips parted with the exertion of your work out. The warmth of your stirred blood pours off of you and he bares his fangs hungrily.

---

“It’s going to be a long week,” Nandor says into the camera later that night. “I drained three humans tonight and I’m still thinking about how sweet her blood would be after the passion of roller derrr-by battle.”

---

But the week does pass and as dawn approaches one morning, Nandor drifts into your room and stands in the doorway silently regarding you for a long, unnerving moment.

“Prepare yourself, human,” he commands, his voice low with authority. “For tonight I will feed from you after I awake from my slumber.”

As you watch him glide back to his crypt, a lump of anxiety forms in your stomach that doesn’t go away all day.

---

“The master wishes to see you,” Guillermo says from the doorway of the library where you’ve been quietly falling apart for the last hour awaiting Nandor’s summons.

You take a breath and square your shoulders before standing.

“Thanks, Guillermo,” you murmur as you pass him, laying your hand on his shoulder with a squeeze. Guillermo doesn’t reply but his face isn’t unkind.

Nandor is waiting for you in his crypt, casually draped over an Edwardian style couch beneath a brilliantly illuminated painting of himself as a human Ottoman warlord.

“It’s time, mortal,” he announces, beckoning for you to join him on the couch.

Though you’ve known this was coming and it’s part of the bizarre deal you struck with him, you still feel awash with trepidation.

“In here?” you ask with a doubtful look at the fine surroundings.

He shrugs, “You have somewhere else in mind?”

“I sort of...set things up in my bedroom…”

You lead him to your room, casting an apologetic glance to the camera crew as you shut the door behind you. Nandor smiles when he observes your preparations. The bed is covered in bath towels and there’s a tidy pile of bandages, surgical pads, Neosporin and tape on your nightstand. You hover awkwardly by the door as he looks over your supplies.

“You’ve thought of everything,” Nandor grins and takes a seat on your bed, patting the spot beside him. When you don’t immediately move to join him he frowns, “You’re afraid.”

“Yes,” you admit, your voice breaking on the word.

“The fearsome Smashley Glowers is afraid of little old Nandor the Relentless?” he teases and your lips curve in a small smile.

With a deep breath for courage you cross the room and sit next to him on the bed.

“I’m not afraid of you, Nandor…” you explain.

“Oh…” he frowns, clearly disappointed and you roll your eyes at him.

“Just...that you might forget--” you stop and breathe through a tremor of fear, “--forget to stop.”

He shakes his head at your words even as you watch his eyes glaze over in blood lust. He draws his fingers through your hair, baring your neck to his voracious gaze.

“Just a taste,” he hisses, baring his fangs and wrapping an arm around your back to draw you in closer.

“A sip!” you insist, but he’s already leaning down to your throat.

Nandor’s hands hold you in place, one pressing on the small of your back, the other cradling your head. His gorgeous hair brushes against your jaw as he bends to meet your throat. You shut your eyes, breathing shallowly in anticipation of the pain and dizziness. It’s somehow worse now that you know exactly what to expect. His lips are just as soft and gentle, the sting of his fangs is just as acute, but now it’s not just an anonymous, terrifying creature of the night holding you and drinking you. It’s Nandor. A man who has held you in his sleep and kissed your forehead. A man who has cheered you on at roller derby and made you feel like a person and not...food. His chest rumbles against you as he moans in satisfaction.

“So, so sweet, my mortal,” he mumbles against your bloodied throat, adjusting his arms so that your body is pressed more tightly against him.

He bites into you again and the pressure on your raw wound draws a mewl of pain from your lips. He relaxes his hold, withdrawing from your neck with a few long strokes of his tongue.

“Are you alright, my human?” he asks.

You blink back at him, idly taking in the stain of your blood on his lips and beard.

“I’m...good,” you whisper.

He’s still holding you in his arms and his eyes are so big and bright and stunningly fathomless. Your neck stings and you’re lightheaded and his lips are painted with your blood but all you want is to find out what it would be like to kiss Nandor the Relentless.

So you do.

You reach up and push your fingers through his impossibly soft hair, twining your fingers at the base of his neck and pulling him down to collide your mouth with his. Nandor is entirely unphased. He takes charge of the kiss at once, cupping your face in his large hands and lapping his tongue against your lips. You taste the salt-coppery tang of your own blood as he licks into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours with a low growl of delight. You’ve been fixating on his hair for the last week and now that you’ve touched it you can’t stop carding your fingers through his locks, letting your nails graze against his scalp as you do so. Nandor’s hands are not so focused. They roam over you, brushing along the pulse of your neck, skimming your shoulders, your spine, cupping your backside and squeezing obscenely, earning a surprised squeak from you. Kissing Nandor the Relentless, you find, is very, very nice.

As the kiss goes on, you squirm up into Nandor’s lap with a mischievous grin against his lips. You can feel his hardened length against your thigh and you shift against him experimentally, delighting in the gasp that falls from his lips at the friction. No, you don’t have a lot of practical experience. As Laszlo so charmingly pointed out on your first night in the house, you’re a virgin. But you’re no dummy. And you think about what it would be to have your first time be with a vampire...

Nandor breaks the kiss with a wide smile. He pushes you gently off his lap with a wag of his finger.

“Now, now, little one,” he admonishes with a laugh. “We wouldn’t want to spoil your flavor.”

---

A/N: Damnit, Nandor.

Tags:

@festering-queen @glitterportrait

#nandor the relentless #nandor #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor the relentless imagine #nandor imagine #wwdits fanfic #wwdits #kayvan novak #smut #chelsfic #vampire x human

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nekomittchi · 3 years ago

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My Disney Fab 50 Statues

This is my version of the Disney Fab 50 statues for the WDW 50th Anniversary, and why I picked each one. My list aims much more to park history than the official list does. I'll note which ones are official statues by underlining them. These are in no particular order, but organized by park they'd be in. Magic Kingdom 1) Mickey - Obviously, Mickey, being the park and company mascot, needs to be here, and he's on the official list as well. I chose to put my version in his Philharmagic costume. It's got the hat from Fantasia/Sorcerer's Apprentice, which is well known, but tailored more to the park attraction. 2) Daisy Duck - One of the Fab 6, Daisy is also along for the ride. But unlike the official's "standard" outfit, I'm putting Daisy in a safari outfit to represent Jungle Cruise. Since Jungle Cruise doesn't really have any characters, I'm using outfits, like with Mickey, to represent attractions that otherwise would be left out. 3) Goofy - Another of the Fab 6, Mickey's best friend needs to be represented. Like Daisy, he's also repping a character-less ride. This time he's repping Big Thunder Railroad. As an added bonus, if they put him in a conductor outfit, it could also rep Mickey and Minnie's Runaway Railway, but that's at another park. 4) Pluto - The last of the Fab 6 in this park (the other two I'm placing elsewhere), Mickey's dog Pluto. And since the Park Wishables already put Mickey and Minnie in space suits for Space Mountain, let's give Pluto an astronaut helmet to represent it! And, as an added bonus, it doubles as a take-that at Universal, since Disney can't have Marvel in the WDW parks, and Pluto would be a joke on Cosmo (the space dog in the Collector's museum from Guardians of the Galaxy). 5) Sonny Eclipse - The first statue of mine that's not only unique to my list, but also represents something 100% in the park. I haven't been to Cosmic Rays myself, but from what I hear around WDWNT and WIGScord, it's pretty popular. Or at least Sonny is. So he gets a statue. 6) Merlin and Archmedes - Second statue unique to my list, and the first that's for the history of the park. Sorcerers of the Magic Kingdom was a scavenger hunt-type game that closed down early this year, and Merlin was kinda your guide for it. The game apparently had a lot of problems, but it looked really fun at the same time. 7) Genie - A surprising omition from the official list, and, unlike DLR, WDW actually has an Aladdin ride. The official list does have Abu, but I feel Genie is much more iconic and representitational of the movie. I'm also surprised that Carpet wasn't with Abu. 8) Pirate Dog - The Pirate Dog holding the keys is my representation of Pirates of the Caribbean. The dog might not be the most obvious pick, but as I'm trying to steer away from realistic-looking human characters, the dog was picked. Plus, they also made a Tsum Tsum and a Wishable of him, so... 9) Big Al OR Henry- This one's a toss-up. Either bear would do, and it's surprising to me that Country Bear Jamboree isn't represented. Of course, we know that it's a "less popular" attraction, so... 10) Madame Leota - The hitchhiking ghosts would also work to represent Haunted Mansion, but I think that having a gold statue inside of an ornate glass orb would look cooler. Plus, it only takes up one character slot, rather than 3. 11) Dumbo - One of the original rides from Disneyland, this classic has to be represented, and Disney agreed. Although I cut out Timothy. Didn't wanna take up another slot. 12) Stitch - Another statue to represent a past attraction, Stitch is here to represent Stitch's Great Escape. He's also, like the official statue, in his 626 form, because there's not nearly as much merchandise for him that way. 13) Winnie the Pooh - Piglet is with him on the official statue, but I think Pooh can stand on his own. Or, at least, eat hunny on his own. I mean, the ride is called "Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh," not "Pooh and Friends." Also, Tigger is way better than Piglet. 14) Mr. Toad - Another surprising omition from the list. Mr. Toad's Wild Ride might not be in Magic Kingdom anymore, but he's still fondly remembered, and they even made a Wishable of him (from the Disneyland 65th Anniversary set, but whatever). 15) Maleficent (Dragon) - The first of my statues that's not for an attraction, but a show (okay, Philharmagic is kinda a show, but shush). And she's also considered the "leader" of all of the Disney Villains, who are not represented at all in the official list, which I think is a shame. Sure, we all love the heroes, but who would those heroes be without their villains? 16) Face Clock - The only non-character in my list, the Face Clock is iconic enough for the World's Fair-turned-park ride. Because if you picked one of the dolls, which doll would you pick?! 17) Elliot - I've never seen the Main Street Electrical Parade myself (unless it was when I was 5), but I'd recognize the dragon float from Pete's Dragon anywhere. Bonus points if they could do the statue in such a way that it looked like the float, too. 18) Tinkerbell - The last of the revealed statues, Tinkerbell has come to represent Disney magic, both within and outside the parks, just as much as Mickey. Officially representing Peter Pan's Flight, I'd like to think that she also represents the Castle, like in the company card at the start of the movies. 19) Jose, Michael, Pierre, and Fritz - Yes, I know I've been trying to avoid "wasting" slots with multi-character statues, but... How could you pick just one of the Enchanted Tiki Room birds?! 20) Cheshire Cat - Cheshire and Mad Hatter both made the list (as separate statues), but I feel that Alice in Wonderland can be represented by Cheshire on his own. Plus, cat. 21) Boo - Monster's Inc Laugh Floor is an attraction that I wish was at DLR, so I could go on it, but even better than Sulley or Mike is the adorable Boo. 22) Jimminy Cricket - Yet another surprising omition from the list, Jimminy is almost as iconic to Disney Magic as Tinkerbell is. The official list has Pinocchio, but Jimminy is so much more "Disney" in general than Pinocchio. 23) Dopey - Seven Dwarfs Mine Train represent, as well as Disney's first animated feature. EPCOT 24) Donald Duck, Jose, and Panchito - Mickey's other best friend, here represented with the other two of the Three Caballeros, as represented in the Gran Fiesta Tour ride in the Mexico Pavillion. Like with the other members of the Fab 6, I chose to put him in an attraction outfit, and since I did, the other two had to come along for the ride. 25) Figment - Journey to Imagination (or whatever the current name of the attraction is) might be "meh" as a ride, but everyone loves Figment. Even Disney, who included him. 26) Olaf - I love Bruni. Bruni is probably my favorite character from all of Frozen. But Bruni isn't even named in the movie, he doesn't need to be on a statue. Olaf can represent Frozen Ever After by himself. 27) Remy - I'm shocked that Remy's not on the official list, given that his ride [officially] opens on the first day of the 50th Celebration, and represents the future of the parks. 28) Orange Bird - OB is on the official list, though in MK rather than EPCOT. All of the merch and such I've seen for him has been for the EPCOT festivals, so I'm sticking him here. 29) Rocket Racoon and Groot - Another statue to look to the future, for whenever Cosmic Rewind opens. Also, unlike the official statue, we are not using the realistic style from the official statue. The fur on Rocket looks so bad. Nah, instead we'll do him smooth, like the cartoons. 30) Mushu - Mushu was left out of the live action Mulan movie, but he's designed after traditional Chinese dragons, so let's put him over by the China Pavilion. 31) Marie - Did you really think that this list was not going to have my favorite character on it? I mean, really? Plus, we've got THREE mice/rats on the list, AND a dog, so we need another cat. Hollywood Studios 32) Minnie Mouse - And here we have the last of the Fab 6, Mickey's gal Minnie! Why is she in Hollywood Studios? Because she's representing Tower of Terror, wearing a cute outfit, of course! 33) DJ-R3X - Remember all those Fab 6 characters representing multiple characters? Yeah, R3X here is doing the same. Not only is DJ-R3X the DJ at Oga's Cantina in Galaxy's Edge, but he was originally RX-24, the pilot for the original version of Star Tours. Much better representation than BB-8 or R2-D2 from the official list. 34) Kermit the Frog - One of the more offensive omitions from the official list. MuppetVision3D is great fun, and the Muppets don't get nearly enough love, even with the Haunted Mansion special coming. 35) Chuuby - Okay, so sue me, I'm obsessed with the little merchandising bird. He's just too cute. 36) Woody and Buzz Lightyear - I know the official statue is Woody and Bo-Peep. But I haven't seen Toy Story 4 (or 3), so I want Buzz there. Disney's Animal Kingdom 37) Chip and Dale - Ya gotta have the little buddies! And who better to be wearing cute little Wilderness Explorer outfits? 38) The Yeti - So, the real Yeti might not work in Expedition Everest, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be represented as a statue! Just make sure it's not realistic fur like that horrible Rocket statue. Stylized only! 39) Simba, Timon, and Pumbaa - Simba is separate from his friends in the official statue, but the trio (Simba as a child) should stick together. Festival of the Lion King is amazing to watch. You'll note a few things on my list: 1) There are no princesses. This was a specific omition on my part. The princesses have their own line of stuff, and are fairly over-used as it is. I wanted to get away from that. 2) As I mentioned with the Pirate Dog, I wanted to avoid realistic human characters. They either look good, or they don't. And I wanted a bit more of a similar style to everything, hence why I'm noting that Rocket should be done in the cartoon style, and the Yeti should be stylized. 3) Everything is tied into an attraction, land, or Disney Magic. Nothing is there solely from a movie. 4) My list only has 3 statues more than the official list. 5) For reference, here are the characters that are on the official list that are missing from mine: Timothy the Mouse (with Dumbo) Piglet (with Winnie the Pooh) Bruni (with Olaf) Bo-Peep (with Woody) Lumiere and Cogsworth Mad Hatter Pinocchio Gus and Jaq Lady and Tramp Abu Dante Miguel Pua and Hei-Hei Joe Gardener Edna Mode Frozone R2-D2 BB-8 Sebastian and Flounder Nemo and Dory Bambi and Thumper Of these, there are no major parks connections for Lumiere and Cogsworth, Lady and Tramp, Dante, Miguel, Pua and Hei-Hei (yet), Joe Gardener, Edna, and Frozone. Edna and Frozone especially bother me, as they're not even the main characters. Why couldn't we get a Jack-Jack instead? And Mr. Mittens and 22 over Joe Gardener? 6) And, finally, here are my statues that are new to my list: Sonny Eclipse Merlin and Archmedes Genie Pirate Dog Big Al Madame Leota Mr. Toad Maleficent Face Clock Elliot Jose, Michael, Pierre, and Fritz Boo Jimminy Cricket Dopey Remy Mushu Marie DJ-R3X Kermit the Frog Chuuby Buzz Lightyear The Yeti

#Disney #Disney World #Walt Disney World #Magic Kingdom #EPCOT #Hollywood Studios #Animal Kingdom #Fab 50 #50th Anniversary

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years ago

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Truths Pt. 2

A/N: So I made a part two! I hope this is better, maybe some improvement has shown. I’m getting a little more comfortable with the character(s) so hopefully this goes okay. Also, I don’t have a large fan base on Tumblr (I have a larger one on Wattpad where I write Marvel and Marvel actor fics), so if you have any requests don’t hesitate to ask me. I really only do Gerard fics, I might do Mikey.

Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Summary: Approximately two years into Gerard’s and Y/N’s relationship, and they go to a red carpet event together. Things get creative and then sweet. Word count: 2309

“You don’t even need makeup.” Gerard complained from the couch at the back of the room you two were in. Mac and Jessica, your two makeup artists, were on either side of you, dolling you up.

“Oh please,” You lightly laughed, “I need a lot of it.”

“I just can’t wait until all of this is over.” He sighed.

“I know Gee.” You looked back for a brief moment at him in the mirror, “But you only go to one red carpet event a year.” “And it happens to be the day before your birthday.” He looked back at you. “I would much rather be preparing for that.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” You said, “It’s not like we do much for my birthday anyways.”

“Yeah but we could be at home,” He sighed, “Eating pizza or tacos, and I don’t know. Watching some good shit like Star Wars.” “Tomorrow, love.” He lightly smiled.

“Fucking love it when you call me that.” “I know, love.”

“Gee?” His manager walked in. He looked up. “They’re ready to get you dressed.” He let out a huff, getting up and giving you a quick smile.

“See you later.” “Bye, Gee.” You smiled back. It took an additional 45 minutes to get you into your dress and your hair done. You had chosen a long red, velvet dress with just straight hair to keep it simple. Not much of a 2000s look, but timeless nonetheless.

“Ready, Y/N?” Your manager walked in. You nodded, giving one last look in the mirror before walking out and down the hall to Gee’s room. He was already outside talking to a few people when he looked over and saw you. He smiled, looking you up and down before licking his lips.

“Hey, Gee.” You smiled, giving him a quick kiss.

“Hi honey.” He put his hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. He was quite a bit taller than you, even in heels. “You look beautiful.” He told you.

“Thanks,” You smiled, “So do you.”

You and Gee walked out, hands together, as you waited for you turn for photos. He continued to steal glances at you, lightly smiling whenever you caught him. “We just have to do this, for 15 minutes, then we eat okay?” You asked and he nodded. You knew he got anxious before events like this.

When the two of you were finally called out, Gee put his hand on your back, leading you two out. Everyone began shouting your names, the two sounds muffling with one another. Both of you tuned them out, looking in various cameras and giving light smiles.

Moving on to the interview area, one by one you went down the line of journalist prepared with mics and questions. Most of them were going great, a lot of the questions regarding how your band was at a huge level now. Not as big as My Chem, but getting there.

There was one interviewer in specific that seemed to piss off you and Gee though. Both internally, of course. “So, what’re your favorite brands?” The older man asked you, Gerard right next to you.

“Anything at Goodwill.” You answered and the three of you lightly chuckled.

“Can I ask you a question?” Gerard asked the interviewer.

“Sure.” He lightly smiled.

“Would you ask me that?” He questioned,

“Um, no.” He admitted.

“Alright, so then why did you ask her that?” He fired, standing there. You stood there a little awkwardly.

“Well, I um, I just-” “You did because she’s a woman?” He asked.

“Gee, stop.” You mumbled, giving him a look to stop. He sighed, grabbing your hand.

“I think we’re done here. Thank you.” He grabbed your hand, leading you to the next interviewer.

That one went much better. You each got to answer questions regarding your own success, and where MCR was going to go further. You and your group were planning on going on tour in the next few weeks, a lot of the shows sold out as shocking as it was, so you had a full agenda. “So Y/N,” The interviewer turned to you, “It’s your birthday tomorrow isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” You smiled.

“Happy birthday!” She said.

“Thank you so much, that’s really kind.” “So, do you two have any plans.” You sighed and looked at Gerard, who was looking at you.

“Flying home at 5 am tomorrow.” He huffed, “And then napping.” “That’s about it.” You admitted.

“Gerard, do you have any plans for her?” “Well, I have a few tricks up my sleeves.” He smiled, “But I can’t tell you. She would know then.”

There was one more interviewer you had to stop by, a young guy who had some fan questions to ask. “Hannah asks: If you two could control the other’s hairstyle, what would you choose and why?” “Good question.” You pondered as Gerard did.

“I would choose natural, like it is now, for her.” He said, “Her hair is really beautiful. I mean, it always is, but it looks really good natural.” “I would probably choose the look from The Ghost of You. It was very handsome on him.” You both lightly smiled.

“The last one is from Michael: Do you two wear each other’s merch?”

“Yes.” You spoke rather fast, “I think I have two or three My Chem hoodies, they’re the comfiest things ever.” “Yes for me too,” Gee said, “I think I have one or two of their shirts, I wear them to bed though.” You nodded.

“I think I may even have one from when I first met you guys.” You said, looking at Gee.

“That’s 2004 right? Then Three Cheers?” “The best hoodie I own.” You smiled. Then the two of you were escorted into the hall, to await dinner. You were sat with Frank and Mikey who showed, as long as Henry from your band and Joe. The few of you began talking with some laughter blending itself into the conversation. Gee leaned in to whisper to you.

“Was that the hoodie you stole from our merch pile on tour?” You lightly laughed under your breath, nodding your head. “You never paid for that, ya know?” “Really, Gee?” You asked, “You’re my boyfriend.” “At the time, I wasn’t.” He smirked.

“What’re you two talking about?” Frank spoke up.

“The time Y/N stole some of our merchandise.” You rolled your eyes, sitting back in defeat.

“That was you?” Mikey asked, as if surprised.

“It was one hoodie.” You fought.

“That’s not that bad.” Frank defended you.

“She still stole it.” Gee fired back, smirking.

“Hey, Y/N, did we ever tell you the time we walked in on Gerard moaning your name while masturbating?” “Frank!” He was on the verge of laughing through clenched teeth.

“There were multiple times actually.” Mikey spoke up.

“When was this?” You lightly smiled and asked.

“2005, Warped Tour.” Your eyes went wide as you looked at Gerard.

“That was before we were-” “Yeah I know, I know.” He sighed, “Can we please move onto something else?”

“So, Gerard, do you have any plans for birthday sex with-” “No.” He stopped Frank, “We’re not going there.” “But do you?” You asked, turning to face him. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah it is Y/N’s birthday tomorrow.” Henry said.

“You forgot about my birthday?” You asked him.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” He admitted.

“I didn’t,” Mikey smiled, “Your cards already been shipped.” “Aw, thank’s Mikey.” You smiled, “You’re my favorite Way brother.” “Hey!” Gerard snapped, “I’m the one sleeping with you.” “But there are other credentials.” You leaned your chin onto his shoulder, looking up at him. “I still love you the most, though.”

It was a long three hours. The only enjoyable part was the free steak, but other than that it was just bland and boring. Like any other award event ever. Just some stupid speakers, stupid winners, and even more stupid speeches.

“I wanna bail so bad.” Gerard sighed, whispering to you. Frank heard it too though, and looked over nodding.

“I know.” You yawned, “Another hour of this shit.”

“We can make up an excuse.” Frank chimed in, keeping his voice low, this time Mikey, Henry, and Joe all looked at you three, extremely attentive and ready to get out.

“How?” You asked, looking at him.

“Pretend your water broke.” “What the fuck?” You turned to Henry who had the terrible idea, “I’m not pregnant. Nor do I look like I’m nine months pregnant.”

“I could pretend to have a seizure.” Frank said.

“No one would believe that,” Gerard chimed in, “And they would call an ambulance and they would probably only allow, like, two of us to go with you.” “Wait,” You said, your mind finally shaping a decent idea. “I got it.”

Next thing you knew, Henry was in the bathroom on his phone, messaging Gerard, to give him some devastating (not true) news. You could hear his phone lightly vibrate in his pocket, him pulling it out to read a text from his “cousin”.

“We should go now.” He looked at the four of you, all of you getting up and moving towards the back doors, some people seeing you. One of the managers of the show stopped you guys. “Mikey and I, our mother’s in the hospital.” Gee began, his voice laced with the essence of distress, “We need to go.” He showed the text. He nodded, letting you all out.

You made your way looking partially in panic (it may have been from the acting or the anxiety of getting caught, none of you were sure) and back to the dressing rooms. Once there, you all got in and let out a sigh of relief. “I think it worked.” Frank said, all of you smiling and nodding.

“I do too.” You spoke up.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Gee’s manager walked in. “You guys are supposed to be out, watching the show.” “About that.” Gerard spoke up, “We got bored and left.” “You got bored?” He sassed, “You got bored?” “Yeah we made up the excuse that my mom was in the hospital.” He sighed.

“Guys, did it work?” Henry walked in, his face dropping when he saw Gee’s manager, who rolled his eyes and sighed in response.

“Well it’s not like you guys can go back.” He said, “But the press is gonna be up all your asses for the next few days.” You all nodded. He walked out, leaving the six of you in partial shame, but overall relief.

You all resorted back to your dressing areas, changing from the too expensive articles you had on back to jeans, sweatpants, t-shirts and hoodies. The six of you then snuck back out, and into the van that had brought you there from the hotel. “Hey what’s this?” You asked, a grocery bag taking you seat.

“I’ll take that.” Gerard reached over and took it from the area it sat, putting it under his feet. You gave him a confused look, “I’ll explain later.”

The drive back wasn’t bad. You were all pretty tired, so you took a small nap, laying your head comfortably on Gee’s shoulder, which he seemed to not mind. “Babe,” You heard him lightly nudge you awake.

“Mhm?” You asked, getting up and yawning.

“We’re here.” He smiled and chuckled. You all got out, saying bye to one another before heading to your rooms.

“What time is it?” You slipped off your shoes, crashing on the bed immediately after.

“12:15.” He said, smiling. “You know what that means.” “It’s time to go to bed?” “No.” He sighed, “It’s your birthday.” He took the bag and pulled something out of it.

“What is that?” You asked, sinking into the mattress.

“Give me a sec.” He said, doing something with various objects. After a minute or two, he turned around, a cupcake in hand with a candle on it.

“Oh, Gee.” You cooed and smiled, “That’s so sweet.” He sat down next to you, lighting the candle and holding it for you as he began singing happy birthday. You couldn’t help but laugh at it, blushing at how adorable it all was. He finished up the song, letting you blow out the candle, and split the cupcake so you could each have some.

“What did you wish for?” He asked, once the two of you finished. You were laying on the white hotel bed, next to each other and just looking at the ceiling.

“You know I can’t tell you, Gee.” You smiled, “It would ruin the wish.”

“Can I ask you something?” He turned to you.

“Sure.” You turned to him.

“Will you marry me?” He asked and you smiled.

“For real?” You asked and he nodded, “Yeah, of course Gee.”

“Alright, good.” He pulled a little box out his pocket, opening it for a small diamond ring to appear. “Because then I would’ve bought this for nothing.” You lightly laughed giving him your left hand to slide it on. “I love you.” He smiled, once he had put it on.

“I love you too.” The two of you leaned in, kissing one another. “What if we get married? Today?” You asked. He gave you a confused look. “When we get back to New York, head to the courthouse and just sign for marriage.”

“We could.” He said, “I mean, your birthday and our anniversary would be on the same date. Double the sex.” “Gerard!” You laughed.

“What?” He asked, as if offended, “Do I not do a good job.” “No, you do a great job.” You smiled, “But that’s not a great reason to get married.” He nodded.

“We’ll just do it when we want to, when the time’s right.”

“When the time’s right.” You agreed and nodded.

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #my chemical romance #my chemical gee #my chem #mcr #mcr gerard

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xlady-saya · 4 years ago

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i’ve had a love of my own [ch 1]

Relationships: andrew/neil

Summary: Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

Tags: interviews, post canon, major character death but not how u think I swear lol, neil is an old man retelling his memories about andrew, cheesy romance, post retirement, see more tags on ao3

Read on ao3!

Neil pricks himself on the old Palmetto pin as he fixes it to his collar, jabbing the same spot on his thumb he hit just a week before.

He hardly winces at the feeling these days, and for a long time, Matt joked about how he really couldn't go a day without attracting some form of violence. Neil smiles at the thought, because it's far from the truth. He stands by the claim he never asked for fights, simply had no problem finishing them.

"You mean letting me finish them," Andrew would quip, and they'd go back and forth all over again in a never-ending argument. It's so never-ending, Neil goes through the motions of it even now, however many decades later.

This pin tends to start it, since it's the only remotely dangerous thing he owns now. The orange is still bright and obnoxious, with criss crossing Exy racquets in a bright white. He's memorized the raised edges, tilted from old age. The once silver backing has rust spots, but no one ever sees that part. It has its reputation intact, and Neil smiles sardonically.

It's not the only thing that's been worn down, but he likes to think he doesn't look as bad as he could too. Laughing at his own joke, he taps the pin lightly. It's apparently vintage now, according to Allison, since the new Palmetto merch has drifted into neon territory.

Neil is glad he kept his own. It's especially important today, he thinks, that he shows as much fondness for the past as possible. Though, it's not for his sake. His room is nothing but littered with the tokens of the past.

Sighing, he stares fondly out across the living room, the walls haphazardly decorated with old, signed jerseys his friends used to wear. He has one from each of their old teams, but picked his favorites to go up on the wall. The rest sit in storage, ready to be auctioned off whenever he decides living is too much of a chore. Above the mantle, Andrew's racquet from his last team hangs in a shadow box. Then below it, framed pictures which Neil tries to rotate as best he can, some of them shitty ones converted from his phone camera. Mostly, they're of his Foxes at various points in their lives. The only two photos which stay the same are the one he took with Andrew and Kevin at the Olympics, and the snapshot of him and Andrew at the airport in his first year at Palmetto.

If he had to catalog the room, that would barely scratch the surface. He's pages away from mentioning Nicky's terribly made mugs, Betsy's first editions, and cookie tins filled with postcards Katelyn and Aaron sent twenty years ago.

Most of the time, the untidy collection of junk surrounding him is a comfort. It makes the small apartment feel like home, or as close as he can get when he's by himself. He swears some of the items still carry the unique scents of grass stains and floor polish, or Allison's perfume and the glitter glue from Dan and Matt's kids.

When that fails him, the candle he has in every room does the trick to fill in the blanks. Andrew used the same scent for over half their life together: breakfast pancakes. It's sickly sweet and stains the furniture, and Neil loves nothing more than to bury his face in the cushions after a day of having them lit.

These are the things that ground him, that keep him in place, but today he feels fidgety for the first time in years. He shouldn't be, he thinks, laughing to himself. He planned this after all, it's just...

Well, he's never been the best at talking to people.

There's a knock at his door, and the cuckoo clock on the wall (shockingly, that one is his fault) tells him it's right on schedule. Neil sighs, slipping his feet into the white slippers beneath him. "Come in, Sydney."

The nurse on his floor opens the door to his apartment with a smile, too fresh faced and early for this time of day. She’s young, and she's always been a bit cheery for his taste, but she reminds him of Katelyn and he allows it. In the last few years, when Andrew's migraines prevented him from reading, she'd bring him audiobook gift cards.

She smiles bright, and he gives her that look for her to cut it out. At this point, she's less put off by it and more amused. He only tells her to save the smiles because if she doesn't she'll have wrinkles like him years from now. He hates how much he sounds like Allison.

Neil hardly looks in the mirror anymore, but this morning he put in some effort. He looks as perpetually tired as he always looked back in the day, except now his eye bags are accompanied by wrinkles that form their own topographical map on his face.

At least he didn't lose all his hair.

The only thing is his blue eyes are as piercing as ever, so coupled with the grandpa look, he's quite intimidating. Not that he needs to be, but it's nice to feel a little capable when he can barely walk by himself anymore.

"Morning, Mr. Josten," Sydney greets, untucking the wheelchair from behind the door and pushing it over to him. He makes sure to grab Andrew's favorite crochet blanket. He hates messing with it, but he thinks the smell of nicotine it carries will help him today. Refresh his memory.

Neil grumbles, but lets her help him into the chair. He has on his good lounge pants, without holes, and his old Palmetto sweater. "I told you years ago I hate being called that."

"Because it makes you feel old," she jabs, teasing lightly. Even still, she's gentle when she places the blanket over his lap and hands him his glasses. "I have to keep you in line somehow."

"Ha-ha."

As she wheels him out of his room, he starts fidgeting again. He's used to exploring the luxury nursing home on his own time, not because he has somewhere to be. He hasn't had somewhere to be since...well, he hates thinking about that, lest he run into a memory that hurts more than helps.

Today isn't the day for that.

Some other, more able-bodied residents pass by him on foot, waving amicably and knowing better than to expect a wave back. Shockingly, he's well liked here, probably because he doesn't have rowdy grandkids who break the peace. Plus, he's pretty sure some of them are old fans.

Sydney leans down as they pass through the common area and into one of the meeting rooms, the spotless linoleum floor throwing him off as usual. He never would've picked a place so expensive and fancy for himself, but Andrew was always someone with classy tastes. "Ready for today?"

At the reminder, Neil wrings his fingers together. Not advised by his doctor, but fuck that guy. "As ready as I'll ever be," he says, glaring at the glass doors ahead. Sydney laughs, placing him at the end of a large table. The meeting room creeps him out, since it's mostly used for family meetings or will planning appointments. Sound proof, silent.

"Oh hush, you're a famous athlete, I'm sure you've faced worse," she chides, pouring him a glass of water without any ice. Because he's a fiend. Neil rolls his eyes; she has no idea. He's threatened countless reporters before for stepping even a toe out of line, but some recent college grads from an indie publication are making him sweat more than an Exy game. Sydney makes a show of whispering behind her hand. "Besides, I heard from Gabe at the front desk they look terrified, so go easy on them, yes? Can't have another cafeteria incident."

Ugh, not that again.

"You have no witnesses," he waves off, leaning back in his seat while Sydney sets the break in place. Only then is he hit with a wave of calm, fondness even. His quivering hands curl as best they can in the blanket, the ghost of a grip, and he smiles out across the room. Ah, he can't be doing this already, but it's hard to help. He itches for the smell of a cigarette, a press on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries his best to feel it. "Besides, once they know why they're really here they won't be nearly so stressed. Hell, they might even be disappointed."

He tries not to grimace at that, but for the time he's giving them and the paperwork he made them sign, they're going to sit and listen to his old man ravings all day or so help him--

He feels a hand brush against his, and when he looks Sydney is there. She squeezes his fingers in hers, smile fond and weighed down with a sadness so foreign, he nearly regrets telling her to cut it out. But no, he understands. He's the one who understands the most. She grazes the fabric of the blanket as she pulls away, breathing in the same smoke he can for just a moment. "No, I don't think that's possible."

She doesn't give Neil time to doubt himself, not that he could. He can never doubt anything when it comes to Andrew, no matter how much the blond secretly doubted about himself. Neil always teased him for that, and his living oxymoron ways.

Neil's biggest goal of the day is to piss off Andrew's ghost as much as humanly possible, and his grin is nearly splitting at the thought. Fine, mission active.

"Good luck!" Sydney calls as she leaves the meeting room, and he watches her gesture to his guests once they arrive through the glass doors.

Oh shit, they really do look terrified.

The two interviewers see him through the door and Neil can only assume they shit a brick. They're young, can't be more than a few years out of university, dressed way too professionally for someone as uncaring as Neil. They could've shown up in clown costumes for all he cared, at least he would've gotten a good laugh.

The young man fumbles with the door and his companion rushes forward a little too fast before correcting herself. Jeez.

Neil does his best to hide his laugh, not that he's ever been polite. It's more...

Their terror is Neil's fault. He started declining interviews soon after he retired, letting his name and lifestyle fade into mystery and speculation with the public. Kevin had not been happy about it, since to this day he and Thea are in the public eye, commentating on Exy games, doing talk shows, helping curate museums, blah, blah, blah...

Neil didn't have time for that.

He never thought he'd be okay with slipping back into unknown status after so many years of being seen, being cheered for, but when the time came it was an easy choice. Andrew made it so. Neil had his time to be free, to do whatever he wanted and play the sport he loved. But ultimately, when he no longer could, fucking off to do whatever he wanted with Andrew sounded way better than dealing with reporters and overzealous fans.

Just because he became an unknown though, doesn't mean he faded into obscurity. According to Allison, his life has been quite a hot button issue in the community for over a decade. People want to know where he's been, what he did during those years, how he looks back on the past, everything. It's been obnoxious.

Popular sports magazines and large publications have practically been clawing for a piece of him for years, and he's never given in no matter how many fruit bouquets they sent or how many checks they tried to write him. Though, one almost got him purely because they kept sending gourmet chocolates, and if Andrew was a glutton before, old age only made it worse.

So, Neil Josten is back to being a subject of interest for some reason, someone people want to know everything about. For him to randomly call up a dying indie magazine and offer them full rights to an interview under his specific terms surely threw the sports world into a fucking whirl.

Whatever.

He's going to share what he wants to share. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Mr. Jo--" The first reporter clears his throat, passing his notepad and phone over to his other hand before outstretching one to Neil. "Mr. Josten. It's such an honor to meet you, um, wow. I'm Blake, and this is Rayah. We're so grateful for being granted the opportunity to interview you. You're a legend!"

Neil stares at the outstretched hand like he doesn't know what to do with it, and as much as he does know what's expected of him, part of his hesitation is equal parts his disinterest and the fact he doesn't talk to anyone but his remaining family these days. Well, and Sydney.

Blake swallows and drops his hand, surely admonishing himself for his own stupidity.

Rayah saves him. "Um, we really are appreciative, sir," she says, laying out some notepads and setting up her recorder. Old school, Neil appreciates it. It's better than cameras and microphones. "We're still in shock honestly. We were theorizing on why you picked us the entire drive up here!"

"Neil is fine, and don't bother with small talk I know it's not why you're here," he says then, smiling at her words. They both flinch, taken aback. He's not sure why they'd be expecting a Kevin Day type. He has a record for being too blunt and argumentative for his own good. He's right though; they're here for answers, not discussions on how he's doing or what he does for fun in his not so humble nursing home. In much the same vein, he promised honesty, so he'll give it from the start. "I picked you precisely because you're unknown and failing."

They freeze, but they're clearly not Foxes. If they were, they'd immediately get indignant and glare, hold themselves back from punching a helpless old man. Oh, those were the good ol' days.

When Rayah fumbles for a response, a logic, Neil simply shrugs. "I like the underdogs."

He doesn't intend it to be, but it's a tension breaker. The stiffness in the reporters' shoulders deflate with a laugh, and they finally get back to organizing themselves without looking like they want to run for the hills and beg ESPN to take over.

"As your history suggests," Blake jokes, and Neil rewards him with a grin, tapping his Foxes pin.

He doesn't mention the fact Andrew would've never spoken to him had he gone to some trashy magazine, and that Andrew was always a bit of a rebel himself, though he hated to admit to any kind of urge that didn't involve Neil, sweets, or fancy cars.

Neil takes the free moment to wrap his blanket around his shoulders, letting the ingrained smell of ash permeate around him. Much better, he can think so much clearer like this.

As they finish setting up and take their seats across from him, Blake taps his pencil against the rim of his notepad. It looks like he almost wants to launch back into small talk, but thinks better of it when he remembers Neil's words. Considerate, a good listener. Just what Neil needs today.

Blake clears his throat, cutting through the bullshit. "Now, we know you have specific terms for how you want to lead this interview, which we're completely fine with. Wherever you want to start, we'll follow."

And with that, they sit back, unsure but ready to catch whatever morsel of information might fall from Neil's lips. Again, he finds himself fighting a smirk.

Of course, he led these people astray a bit, but he doesn't see the problem with having a little fun before revealing his true intentions.

He nods, pushing down the giddy feeling that always comes with talking about Andrew. Not yet, but soon.

"Hm, I assume you prepared some questions just in case," Neil asks, taking a sip of his water.

Rayah blinks, exchanging a look with Blake. She rifles through her notepad to a page in the middle, scribbled and stained with ink. There are so many questions on it, some of them curve over the others in a painful word twister. "Uh yes but, we didn't think you'd want to answer them," she guesses.

She's correct.

Neil loathes interview questions, because they're predictable. But in this case, he'll let the first one lead him down the road.

Neil relents, leaning back in his wheelchair. "Well you're mostly right, but why don't you ask me your first one?" He offers, and they look positively ecstatic. "That'll get me started."

And once he starts, he doubts he'll be able to stop.

"Sure." Blake clears his throat, making sure his recorder is functioning properly. When he's satisfied, he leans back, mirroring Neil's posture, though the rigidity is still there. If he doesn't lighten up, he's going to have back pains for days. "Now, there have been a lot of milestones in your career as a pro athlete. No one would dream of disputing your skill in the sport, or how you earned any of your countless awards--"

"Flattery," Neil warns, raising a single finger. That's not what he's here for either. In fact, as much as this is his interview, it's not about him at all.

"Right," Blake says with a huff of a laugh. "But surely one of your brightest moments was your historic win at the Olympics. It was talked about for months within the community. Of course, any true Exy fan knows the details of the game, it was only covered by every major publication. So, I guess our question is, what do you most remember about that moment? Was it as monumental for you as it was for Exy fans?"

Ah, a predictable question, but also not a bad place to begin. Neil doesn't fight the edge of the smirk that appears, though he does raise his thumb to swipe at it. It's been a while since he's felt so mischievous, it's so difficult to be, well, difficult when you're being wheeled around all day.

It was a monumental moment for him, though maybe not for the reasons everyone else would think.

"You certainly did your research," he comments, humming as he sits back in thought. He already knows his answer, but he's weak, and the feelings the memory evokes barely need to push him to send him careening off balance. Swept up. "Not sure what I was expecting from people so young, but my apologies for making assumptions."

He's glad they didn't ask the question in the stereotypical format, fishing for ways to brag and make it all about him. When he thinks of that time, as proud as he was, it's not his own praise that comes to mind.

With that in mind, Neil sighs.

"I don't think it was an exaggeration to say that was one of the best days of my life," he admits, and it's the truth. He's not here to lie. Come to think of it, he hasn't lied once since Andrew ran on ahead of him. Smiling, Neil lets the words flow.

"It was important to me, but not all because of the Olympics themselves..."

Neil rarely has time to pay attention in Exy games, as horrible and inefficient as that sounds.

His feet move on their own accord like a well-oiled machine, cogs and steam rushing through him to propel him across the court at record speeds. And they are record speeds.

That's why he's here isn't it? To run, to score.

It had been overwhelming when he first arrived, the sheer size of the Exy court at the Olympics. It's surrounded by flags from all over the world, bright neon signs and sponsorships. The lights at the entrance had been so vibrant, he made the mistake of looking up at them.

Blinding.

All aspects about it are, because as much as Neil knows this is his life, it can't possibly be reality.

The crowd makes the one at the Ravens' stadium seem minuscule, out of its league with seats and aisles that almost climb up to the heavens. The crowd roars and Neil feels every cheer and stomp echo against his bones.

He never thought he'd be here, but despite the gravity of it, he no longer has the time nor want to dwell on it. All that matters is his team, and getting them the gold.

Being with Andrew afterwards...getting to see Wymack smile proudly at Kevin.

Letting Kevin be proud of himself.

And Neil is an Olympic-qualified player, so with all that in mind, he delivers the second best game of his life. Even in the final seconds of the second half, even when he's been body checked so many times the nuts and bolts he imagines inside him must surely be worn and off-kilter, he doesn't stop moving. Everything is instinct, from the force of his steps to the last minute shifts he needs to intercept the ball.

It's not Kevin's perfect strategy, it's not a map or an out of body experience where he can see where every player on the court is.

He has no idea what's going on outside of what's in front of him, no awareness of anything but the immediate threats and a certain beacon, standing in the goal.

And that's the hardest part of it all, not being able to look over at Andrew for even a moment after he scores, because the game is fast and ruthless, and he has twice the energy of anyone on this court.

It's a stupid way to play, if he's really supposed to be Kevin's double. But they all long since established he is far from it. He has his own passion, his own drive, and Kevin trusts Neil with his life on the court.

Probably through anything.

So when he sees the perfect opportunity for a final interception, a chance to get them the last winning goal of the game, he's surprised that it's the one moment where it all comes to a stop. He's never had the experience before; normally his body snaps into action. He's not used to comprehending things until they're said and done.

He thinks his body is still following through though, turning in just the right way, making sure he's lined up.

But Neil is aware of so much more, his eyes train like a predator's on the goal, and he understands. He has a choice.

Choices are a weird luxury now, but he's gotten so used to having the freedom of them, he's forgotten the sheer magnitude they can carry.

His eyes snap to the goal, and then to Kevin. Kevin, who is so much closer, and already looking right at Neil.

And Neil never describes himself as fond towards most people, but he can say it proudly in that moment. This is the Kevin Day he likes to see.

Green eyes stare back, blown wide with a fire that can't be matched by anyone, probably not even his own mother, maybe not even Neil. A true, unadulterated love for this violent, freeing sport. Kevin catches Neil's eyes through his face guard, forehead drenched in sweat but his entire being rings with energy, ready and unwilling to quit until the buzzer sounds.

A Fox, at heart. Neil knows Andrew can see from where he's standing in goal, and Neil knows he's just as satisfied, deep down. It might give him some peace of mind too, to know Kevin kept his spine.

Neil puts all of those emotions into his last movement of the game.

He inclines his head just so, and that's it.

Kevin moves.

As Neil's racquet intercepts the ball from the other team's striker, he can't help but be a bit smug as he takes a powerful step forward. He can hear the painful slide of his shoes against the court floor, the heat of being too close, too exposed.

His legs will surely be shot after this, but no matter.

Kevin Day was always meant to be the greatest player in the history of Exy, the reigning queen, despite the arrogance they'll surely have to hear non-stop about. Fine. It's only fair that Neil help him achieve that goal here, at the biggest stadium in the world.

(By no means the best one, but still).

The clock gets down to five seconds, the beats resounding off the walls of his skull. Neil swings his racquet with such force the strings whistle, and the ball moves in a straight line directly into Kevin's. The other striker has zero time to react, the force of Neil's brutal cut off sending him stumbling. The ball hits Kevin's strings hard, Kevin's grip tightening around his racquet to keep it close to him.

Kevin doesn't hesitate longer than that.

He shoots at the goal in one fluid arch, and scores.

As confident as Neil is in Kevin's aim and skill, he'll admit his stomach swoops. It's a feeling that never truly goes away, much like the instincts that keep him moving. He wouldn't trade it for anything, that millisecond exhilaration before it comes together.

Because well, at one point nothing ever fell into place for him.

In the flash where the ball hits the net, Neil feels the ghost of a key in his palm, reminding him when that changed. The buzzer of the countdown blares, and all that anticipation meets a well-deserved end.

The stadium erupts until not even the buzzer can be heard. There's a swish of plexiglass doors, the sounds of their coach yelling in triumph, but Neil's body is too spent to react.

Neil's heart constricts in his chest as he tries to get air in, but it's impossible. Satisfied doesn't even begin to cover it, though he's sure he looks just as breathless as Kevin does, staring at the goal as it lights up. The world moves around him, respecting his moment of privacy when they should be hoisting him up and not allowing him a minute of disbelief. Neil's glad they don't; Kevin deserves to look surprised once in a while.

His teammates pile on each other, clapping him as they pass. A lot of them are still in shock, a few fall to their knees right away, but Neil feels nothing but fulfilled.

He made the right call.

His body sags, stinging, and he feels Andrew's gaze pinning him upright from across the court. It's the only thing that gets him walking, but he wills himself not to look in his boyfriend's direction.

If he does well...nothing else will matter, and there's one thing he has to do.

In a haze, he goes over to Kevin, who turns, sensing him. Neil shakes his head at Kevin's arrogance to this day, because even though Kevin is the one who made this possible for him, who came to him first...

Well, he still lets Neil do all the work. Neil laughs and hugs Kevin fiercely, barely keeping himself upright, and they trade the trembling in their bodies. Kevin drops his racquet, their height difference making them look all the more pathetic. He can hear Andrew's voice already, telling them they're too emotional about a damn sport.

Somehow, that makes Neil even happier, and he leans back as Kevin pries his helmet off, eyes wild and smiling.

Yes, the right choice. Absolutely.

"We did it," Kevin says, but not in disbelief. He had to have known they'd always make it here. "We did it."

Neil squeezes his friend's shoulder and grins, uncaring of what camera catches it. He's too damn happy to care. "Guess we did."

The crowd cheers so loud Neil can't hear more than a faint buzz in his ears, and the sticky scent of gatorade and sweat is an unfortunate addition. The cameras flash and shine obnoxiously through the double plexiglass to bathe them in light and attention.

Yet, with his legs feeling like jelly and his muscles stretched to the limits, there's only one thing he really wants. What he always wants.

Warmth, safety, something to lean on and keep him sheltered from the world before facing it alongside him. Neil hates that before, the only thing he yearned for was to play Exy. He thought that was bad.

This is so much worse.

Biting his lip, Neil turns to where Andrew is standing in the goal, already looking at him from across the court. And Andrew, with all his control, keeps himself planted there. Neil's breathing hiccups loudly, and Kevin's probably the only one who hears it over the cacophony.

Neil doesn't think he can cry anymore, but his eyes tighten up, he has to blink the pain away.

Neil wonders if Andrew's gripping his racquet hard enough to damage it, if he's digging his heels into the ground like Neil is.

Neil swallows down the lump in his throat. Suddenly, he hates the cameras more than usual; he's torn between wanting them to vanish completely, or wishing they paid as much attention to Andrew, because god, he's earned it.

Neil digs his heels in harder.

I want to be with you.

It's such a simple string of thought; it has crossed his mind so many times before, but never has the urge hurt so much. It has nothing to do with all he's worked for, with the fame and recognition this win will bring him. It's just Andrew.

He hasn't had a knife to his skin in years, but this reminds him of the piercing of flesh, lighting his nerves on end and sending him towards the source of his relief, his contentment.

Andrew played so well, so well, not just here. He worked his way through the pros until he got to Neil, worked his ass off for his reputation. He qualified with the rest of them to be here.

And tonight, he blocked almost every shot at his goal.

Neil closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down but he can't. This is one of the best moments of his life. If he can't share it with Andrew to the fullest, what was the point of everything in his past?

They're not out. That's the problem, he knows, as much as he doesn't give a single fuck. No one outside their family and management knows anything about them, apart from some tabloid rumors about their intense dislike of one another. If that doesn't prove how clueless the media is, Neil doesn't know what does.

And as much as they value privacy, as much as their peaceful bubble is enough, it's moments like these where Neil wants to take and show no matter the consequences.

He looks to Kevin, unsure. It's always been him, the one who warned them about the backlash they'd face despite his acceptance of their relationship years ago.

Neil expects the same thing here: the subtle shake of Kevin's head, the concern in his eyes for their careers and future. It used to piss Neil off to no end, but Kevin communicates all emotion through Exy, even concern. Neil's learned to read between those infuriating lines. The importance of career translates to 'without your career, there is no you.' Sometimes he forgets he's not entirely free.

And if he weren't around, then Andrew...

'You can't leave him.'

And so, knowing Kevin's language, Neil stayed in line, and he expects that same advice today. To his surprise though, it never comes. Kevin is looking at him, tired smile firmly in place as he nudges a shoulder in Andrew's direction. Neil's mouth falls open, and yes, he's convinced now. It's a dream, it's all one big dream. Except--

Kevin shakes his head. It's not resigned, or worried. He's just happy for them both. He pushes Neil away, straightening his back in preparation for his fans. Royal snob. "Go on already. You guys are gross."

And despite the laugh that falls from his mouth, Neil's breathing stutters, and he hadn't realized how wound up he truly was until it happens. His lungs fill with air and he throws his racquet to the ground. His self-control is poor, they all know that. Encouragement is all he needs to break him and send him where he belongs.

He takes off in a full sprint towards Andrew as the rest of his teammates crowd Kevin, looking after Neil in confusion.

Huh, so his muscles still work after all. The tendons are on fire, but it's the least of his concerns. He runs like his life depends on it again, faster than he ran during that whole game.

And to Neil's absolute delight, Andrew's body language screams 'finally.'

The blond takes a step forward, throwing his racquet to the side like it's worthless. Oh. Andrew's bracing to catch him, and Neil laughs at the realization as he throws off his helmet. One day he'll actually make Andrew fall over, but for now he enjoys the strength.

He jumps into Andrew's arms effortlessly, feels calloused hands wrap around his waist as Neil reaches for the clips of Andrew's helmet. Despite knowing the barrier is there as he fumbles with it, he leans forward, lips grazing the metal guard. Andrew huffs, and Neil claws until the helmet clatters to the floor. He throws it a bit far, and it hits the goal post with a clang, but he doesn't care in the moment. If all eyes are on them now, he can't feel them. They're in a vacuum, a side effect of being so taken with Andrew at times. Unaware, vulnerable. The rush of sound from before goes dead around them. His fingertips can feel overheated skin, can trace the barely-there freckles on Andrew's face.

Andrew isn't in the mood to let Neil admire today.

Neil barely gets to see the color in Andrew's eyes before the goalie's hand grips in between Neil's shoulder blades, pulling him down.

It reminds him of their first kiss; Neil catches Andrew's lips and, as if not believing they're real, that something could feel so wonderful, he pulls back. His eyes widen, the first hit of a drug. He breaks the kiss only to dive right back in, uncoordinated but so sure of himself. And he doesn't get how, but Andrew smells the same as back then. Less like cigarettes, but the same smell of leather and earthiness. Neil doesn't read nearly as much as Andrew does to have the capability of describing it, but it's refreshing, like soil after the rain. Through the sweat and exhaustion, Neil would know him anywhere.

Andrew opens his mouth for him first, breath hot but movements predictable. Neil will tease him later for that. You're getting old. Because the dance is so familiar, the way Andrew pushes Neil's tongue back first. 'Come and get me.'

Neil obliges every single time, because he can't back down from a challenge, and maybe he's getting old too.

Neil knows the kiss can't last forever, especially not here, but he allows himself to pretend it's not the case. Andrew hums into him, and Neil's hands feel all the vibrations from where his hand slips down to Andrew's throat. It's bared completely for him, and Neil gives a little squeeze.

He sighs into Andrew's mouth when his boyfriend's eyes open to glare at him, pulling back before kissing Neil again, and then one more time, and maybe just once...

One more, Neil thinks, brushing his lips against Andrew's so lightly they stick for a moment, and he licks his own slowly when he pulls back for the final time. His heart beats in his ribcage, or maybe that's the pounding of the reporters' feet as they rush through the stadium, he's not sure.

Again, it's always best for him to not look at Andrew if he's supposed to be doing something else, because in that moment, the blond has all Neil's attention.

They're already pressed chest to chest, but Andrew squeezes tighter, almost painful, keeping Neil there through the flashing of cameras and shocked cheers.

And while Andrew's expression gives nothing away for the public, it speaks volumes to Neil.

Neil didn't know what old meant back then, now that his legs give out after a good walk or his spine aches under the weight of nothing.

But they were predictable, that much was true.

Neil isn't looking at the reporters anymore, too focused on trying to weave the fraying threads of the blanket back into place. From their silence, he can guess they're as shocked as he expected them to be.

Unaffected, Neil reaches over for his water, taking a sip as he confronts their slack jaws and wide eyes.

Now, that might have been a bit unfair of him as well, to jump into such a blatant romantic recollection about Andrew. Again, Neil never took interviews, rarely took questions, but the subject of his relationship with Andrew was especially off limits for decades. What they had was theirs, and only theirs, even after outing themselves that day.

People naturally tried to pry, tried to dig up their past in hopes of justifying what they saw as a nonsensical relationship or gossip fuel.

Neil made them fear for their lives after that.

He eviscerated publications, reporters, top sports officials, talk shows hosts, pretty much whoever he needed to. Anything to keep Andrew's name out of their mouths. A lot of them sealed their place in the land of irrelevancy, media outlets were slammed by a combination of their fans, and Kevin's too, once he stood up in support.

Andrew always hated it, Neil's desperate need to protect him from words that no longer phased him, but Neil didn't care. It was one of the only things they fought about in their adult years.

It worked though; soon, all the major outlets aside from the tabloids stopped talking about it, knowing mentioning it in any way that wasn't positive or neutral would land them in a ton of hot water.

Even those online sources who refused to let up eventually fizzed out from lack of material; they tried their best to be nosy, but pretty much got nothing but some rare paparazzi photos a few times a year of them kissing in the park or on a date.

In short, it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you don't talk to Neil Josten about Andrew Minyard unless you have nothing but good things to say, and a lot of people are too chicken shit to take the risk and potentially insult him. That's the only disappointing thing, none of them have a shred of courage. Neil really would talk all day about Andrew if people just approached it correctly.

Not that Andrew would've allowed it when he was alive.

Take that.

Despite all the fear Neil instilled in the media, it never stopped the other famous Foxes from talking about how gooey and devoted he and Andrew were, but Neil let that slide.

The things he does for family.

So it makes sense that these reporters seemed to have forgotten Andrew's importance at all, another offense. Not just because he was the best goalie in Exy history, but because Neil was first and foremost, Andrew's.

Blake's mouth opens and closes, pen dangling precariously from his hand. "Are...are we allowed to ask about Andrew?"

Blake even flinches after he asks it, afraid that perhaps it's only okay for Neil to bring up.

If you only knew.

Neil laughs, too relaxed to hold back anymore. The reporters stare, exchanging nervous glances with excitement tingling below the surface.

Yes, he supposes details about his relationship with Andrew are more secretive and sought after than even Neil's opinions. The reporters weren't even going to try.

But now, there's morsels of information dangling in front of them, and Neil need only give them permission. It's their lucky day.

Neil's smile fades into something gentler, wistful. It's the closest he gets now, to how he looked at Andrew. But it's still different, because that expression...

Well, Andrew is gone. What more is there to say?

Neil leans back, wringing his hands softly. "I guess it's only fair that I tell you the real reason I accepted this interview."

The reporters lean forward, holding their breath, but Neil doesn't feel like making them wait. It's all about Andrew now, like he wanted it to be. "I want to talk about Andrew, plain and simple."

Except when it's not.

Their relationship was anything but simple but Neil cherished each memory, and he wants to speak them aloud so no one forgets. He wants everyone to know how important this person was to him, so when he's gone and can't defend them, people can't speculate or taint it with their unasked for opinions.

"I've never had the opportunity to really reminisce about Andrew, not even with my family," Neil admits. He and Aaron and Katelyn would sit around the fireplace at their home sometimes, telling stories, or Kevin would send him old pictures or clips of Andrew playing. But never the intimate details, never the raw, and at times complicated feelings. "It never felt right, even after he was gone. I wanted to keep it close still, so I wouldn't betray Andrew's trust."

Neil takes a deep breath, and it shakes his small frame, a cough escaping his lungs. His voice is rough, but no less sure when he continues. "But I know now what he'd say to that. That I couldn't, even if my dumb Exy brain tried really hard."

But he'd never.

He smiles, wiping his eyes when they aren't even wet. That's another thing he misunderstood back then. Neil thought he couldn't cry, but he's sure today he'll prove his younger self wrong.

Rayah and Blake stay silent through all of Neil's pauses, and the respect means more than he can say. Andrew would approve, he'd be okay with Neil's choice. That's what matters most, he thinks.

"For once I just want everyone to know how I felt, I want to tell you everything as I saw and felt it, so you can tell everyone else," Neil says, and hopes they can read between the lines for the rest. Ultimately, when he's dead he'll be nothing but bones in the dirt, his legacy won't mean much in the long run. But...if nothing else, he wants this to remain, for as long as it can.

He never cared before about it, but he guesses age really can put a new perspective on things. Neil sighs, and taps the table with his finger for lack of anything better to do. When he looks back up, he has their undivided attention, Rayah's brown eyes shining with unshed emotion. None of that, not yet. "Anyways, now that you know I misled you, I hope you're still alright with listening to me ramble for the next few hours."

If not, they can kindly fuck off, but Neil has his suspicions at this point that they'll stick around. As much as Neil prides himself on reading people's intentions well, he's quite horrible at reading people's feelings. But maybe he's improved in that arena too.

A price for everything, he thinks ruefully, reminding himself there's a break in between this session for him to take his pain pills.

Eventually, it's Rayah who stutters a response. "Of course it's alright! We're so honored! And not just in the...bullshit way."

She closes her mouth immediately after at the unprofessionalism of it, but it only makes Neil feel more at ease. He smirks, satisfied. "Noted."

"Mr. Jo--Neil, we really are happy to write about you and Andrew but I have to admit," Blake says, flipping through his notepad with a tight look on his face. "The questions we did prepare as backup don't exactly lend themselves to anything about your life with Andrew."

It's precisely why Neil stated he'd mostly be doing the talking initially, but their first test question actually did end up helping move him along, so...

Neil shrugs, gesturing to the notebook with fierce determination.

These people are about to learn...

He can make anything about Andrew.

When he smiles at the two of them again, they must feel it deep down. They return it tenfold, and then Rayah clicks her pen.

And with the pleasantries out of the way, Neil opens up to everything he's been keeping locked away.

"Try me."

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten

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lefaystrent · 5 years ago

Note

Could you write a short story where Virgil is out at a store, Deceit and Remus spot him. Virgil is like F social interaction. Then is only rude because he really didn't feel like being noticed by people who recognize him. (Patton could be another costumer, Roman a cashier who is working there when not acting, Logan getting supplies for a science class at school)

A Storm Rolled into Town

Fandom: Thomas Sanders,Sanders Sides

Pairings: none

Summary: It’s not likeVirgil meant to become famous anyway. It just sorta happened. And now he’sshopping in some small-town mom-and-pop store on a weekday morning. Despitewearing the hood of his jacket up and perhaps looking the more conspicuous forit, he can sense that someone somewhere in this store is watching him.

Word Count: 2150

________________________________________________________________

Virgil Storm was born with eyes inthe back of his head.

Not literally. It was mostly justanxiety and paranoia working in tandem to create a 360° zone of caffeinated caution.A necessary skill when you became part of the famous crowd. All it took was onecrazy person with a knife screaming about how you’re meant to be together, andthen you’re fucking dead.

Not that Virgil had been assaultedby anyone.

Yet.

He has had experiences witha couple of stalkers before that were quickly handled. It’s amazing how whenmore than a handful of people know your name and can buy your merch, theirsense of entitlement turns you into a thing to be owned.

It’s not like Virgil meant tobecome famous anyway. It just sorta happened.

And now he’s shopping in some small-townmom-and-pop store on a weekday morning. He had to make a pit-stop on his longdrive back home to Florida. Sure, he could have gotten home faster if he’dridden in a plane. He could also set this store on fire or go jump in a lakewhile strapped to an anvil. Doesn’t mean he’s going to.

The point is, Virgil is very awareof how famous he is, and despite wearing the hood of his jacket up and perhapslooking the more conspicuous for it, he can sense that someone somewhere inthis store is watching him.

Virgil glances down the aislebehind him, but there’s nothing. Again.

He lets out a huff of air andcontinues to peruse the candy section. He’s got a craving for something sour,but he’s not looking to get accosted here.

He swipes up a packet of gummy wormsand goes around to the chip rack next. Virgil subtly peeks around the store,noting the two guys manning the register counter. They look young, maybe aroundtwenty. They’re more talking and laughing rather than working. Other than them,there’s this one nerdy looking guy in a tie and glasses over by the stationary.The store seems empty otherwise.

Virgil picks up a large bag of sourcream ‘n onion and nearly screams when there’s a mustached face poking out inthe space left behind.

“Boo!” the man says.

“Fuck off!” Virgil growls andthrows the chip bag right at the face.

A series of snickers come back fromthe candy aisle that Virgil had just vacated. Pissed off and heart racing, hewhips his head around to see some guy in a bowler hat.

“I do believe the phrase ‘got you’fits this scene well,” Bowler Hat says.

“You didn’t ‘get’ anything,” Virgilhisses.

“Oh? So you didn’t just jump likeyou’d seen a ghost?”

“He definitely jumped, Dee! He evenpeed his pants!” Mustached Man cackled, coming out from behind the chip rack.

“I didn’t—” Virgil went to defendhimself but found it pointless. These guys just seemed like assholes. “Justleave me alone.”

“Oh poo, have some fun would you?”

“Now Remus, let’s not annoy him toomuch. Wouldn’t want him to storm out.”

Storm.

He made it very clear that he knewVirgil’s last name. If the pointed pun didn’t say as much, the smarmy grin onBowler Hat’s face surely did.

Virgil tried not to show how muchthat got to him.

“So what? You know who I am. Bigdeal. Buzz off and let me shop in peace.” If these two kept harassing him orworse, Virgil could always threaten to call the cops. Then again, cops took afew minutes to respond, and it only took less than a second to die.

New plan. Virgil could throw downthe chip rack and then run for his life. And if that didn’t work, he carriedpepper spray on his person for a reason.

“What brings someone such asyourself to our neck of the woods?” Bowler Hat questioned, not leaving Virgilalone in the slightest.

Mustached Man jumped up beside hisfriend, leaning an arm against his shoulder to loudly whisper, “I bet he needsto hide a dead body!”

Virgil’s eye twitched. “Yeah,because that’s the only reasonable explanation, right?”

Mustached Man nodded in agreement. “Nothingelse to do around here.”

“It does get rather dull here,”Bowler Hat mused. He brushed his gloved fingers over his chin.

Seriously, who the hell were theseguys? And were they intentionally being low-key threatening? Perhaps not, butthat’s how they were coming across anyway.

“That’s nice.” Virgil smiled in away that showed his utter contempt. Better than showing his fear. “Now if you’redone bothering me, I’ve got things to buy.”

He would have liked something morethan just the gummy worms, but he no longer felt hungry enough to risk hislife.

Virgil walked away, his stepspicking up speed as he heard Mustached Man barking at him.

He was never stopping anywhere everagain.

________________________________________________________________

Roman sat at the register counter,bored out of his mind.

“Patton, my loyal companion. Remindme why we’re here again?”

“Because we get paid to be here.”

“Ah.” Roman nodded, eyes narrowedin deep understanding.

Then he slumped over with a whimperingwhine. His head banged against the countertop.

“Awww, cheer up Ro-Ro! We’ve only gota few more hours left of our shift!”

“My shackled soul is unmoved byyour comfort. They are but mere words in the face of unforgiving oppression.”

“…so what you’re saying is that youneed a pun, right? Or maybe a hug. A combination of the two? A pug. Oh!Doggy!”

Roman snorted as Patton’s train ofthought derailed. He sat up to stare at his coworker and long-time friend.

He snapped his fingers. “Focus,Puffball.”

“Oh, right,” Patton said,refocusing. His expression became determined. “Go on and get all the angst out,kiddo. I’m all ears.”

“Retail suuuuuucks,” Roman concluded.“My creative spirit yearns for a place I can spread my wings and thrive! I ammeant for bigger and better stages. You see this face? You hear this voice? Alltoo good to be squandered away in Backwoodsville, Tennessee.”

“We don’t live in Tennessee.”

“My point is that I am a work ofart, and yet I am left collecting dust in grandma’s attic. It is a crime! Theuniverse should give me a break already.”

From the stationary aisle, afamiliar voice contributed to the conversation, “Perhaps if you put nearly asmuch effort into publicizing yourself to the entertainment community instead ofwhining, you wouldn’t be stuck where you are now.”

Roman slammed a hand on thecounter. “No one asked you, Microsoft Nerd!”

Logan smirked and resumed hisshopping. They knew each other of course. It was hard not to recognize everyonewhen you worked in one of the only stores in town. Plus all three of them hadgone to high school together.

Patton patted Roman’s shoulder insympathy. “I think what Logan’s trying to say is that you’ve got loads of potentialand I’m sure someone’s going to notice one day.”

“That is not what I said at all,but go off I guess,” Logan stated.

Roman flipped him off. Somehow, despitehis back turned to him, Logan must have sensed it and returned the gesture rightback to him.

Patton swatted at Roman’s hands. “Don’tbe ugly!”

“That’s impossible for someone likeme.” Roman grinned.

Patton sighed. “What am I going todo with you?”

“Love me, of course.”

Patton giggled.

“Hi,” a clipped voice cut in. Romantore his attention away from the agony of his life to regard the customer athis counter.

Roman hopped up from his seat andshifted flawlessly into his customer service spiel. “Hello! Ready to check out?”

“Yeah,” the man nodded, his hoodfalling back a bit at the movement.

Roman smiled. He recognized thejacket brand and was about to compliment the customer’s taste.

Their eyes met briefly and Roman’sheart exploded.

Virgil Storm.

Virgil freaking Storm was standingat his register counter.

No. No it couldn’t—

HOLY SHIT!

“That’s it,” Virgil Storm said,tossing a pack of sour gummy worms onto the counter. He briefly glanced overhis shoulder as if to look for something. He wasn’t really paying attention toRoman, so he didn’t catch being ogled.

Oh god, Virgil Storm was standingat his register. No matter how many times Roman looked, Virgil Stormstood there, and all Roman could do was ogle him.

Roman suddenly found the candypacket very interesting.

If he kept his head down, nothingbad would happen, right?

“Uh . . . that’s it,” Virgil saidagain, and Roman realized that he’d been standing there frozen.

Willing his limbs to unthaw, Romanmechanically reached for the candy and ran it over the scanner. A beep sounded,and with a stiff arm, he punched for the total.

“Your total is . . . a number.”

“What?”

Roman couldn’t even look up farenough to check the screen. How could he? When one of his idols stood beforehim. He owned all of this man’s albums, for God’s sake!

“Yes,” Roman said, as if thatexplained everything.

“Okay . . .” Virgil said. Heshuffled, presumably getting his wallet out or something. Internally, Roman wasscreaming to Patton for help, but sadly his friend had never mastered telepathy.In fact, he had no idea what Patton was doing right now. He wasn’t sayinganything, that was for sure. Did he even recognize the celebrity in their storeright now?

“Here,” Virgil offered a five-dollarbill.

Roman blinked at it. Wasn’t VirgilStorm rich? Why was he using cash when he could use a card?

Carefully, lest he mess up andforever embarrass himself, Roman reached up and took the bill from him. Theirfingers weren’t even close to touching, but Roman still felt like he’d steppedon a live-wire, a shock racing through his system.

Roman had dreamed many a time ofcasually running into his idols. He imagined nearly daily of becoming likethem, of leaving his mark, of impressing those that he looked up to. He wouldbe suave and graceful and witty, a dazzling star in the making who would sweepthem off their feet.

Instead Roman hunched in on himselfand began to cry.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” VirgilStorm asked him, and that somehow made everything worse.

Roman covered his face with hishands and sniffled. “I’m just feeling a little emotional right now.”

How mortifying.

A hand rubbed at his back. “Sorry,he’s having a quarter-life crisis,” he heard Patton explain.

Roman threw up his arms,tear-streaked face be damned. “PATTON! That’s not why I’m crying.”

“It’s okay Ro, it happens to a lotof people. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I knew retail work was hell, butgeez,” Virgil commented.

Patton nodded in sympathy. “Hereally wants to be on Broadway someday.”

“Patton,” Roman gasped in admonishment.“You can’t just be telling V— telling people about my silly dreams.”

“Why’s it silly?” Patton asked. “You’reso talented! You’ll make it, I know you will. You’ve just gotta keep trying.”

This could not be happening rightnow. Roman wanted to curl up in the employee’s bathroom and die.

“Broadway, huh?” Virgil asked.

Screw going to the bathroom. Roman coulddie on the spot.

“Ridiculous, huh?” Roman tried tolaugh at himself. If he laughed at himself first, it’d hurt less when everyoneelse did.

Virgil shrugged. “Not really.Someone’s got to do it, right?”

Oh.

No rejection.

Just a practical sense of hope.

Someone’s got to do it, and thatcould be him.

Roman blushed and gazed down at hisfeet. “Thank you . . .”

“No problem. Just uh, feel better Iguess.”

It was clear Virgil found this situationawkward but was trying to be considerate. For that, Roman was extremely grateful.

“Dee! Remus! What are you doing inhere? You know you’re banned!” Patton hollered, moving around the counter. Hehad his stern face on and a broom in hand. The two troublemakers would do wellto run while they still could.

They watched Patton chase Dee andRemus off.

“Does that happen a lot?” Virgilasked Roman.

“Only about every other day.”

Virgil didn’t say anything, soRoman went ahead and finished the transaction.

“Here’s your change,” Roman saidmeekly, handing the correct amount back to him.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, pocketingthe money. He picked up his gummy worms yet hesitated.

“Something else?” Roman wondered.

Virgil scratched the back of hishead. “To be honest, I wanted to get more stuff. But those guys were beingcreepy . . . But they’re gone now, so . . . would it be weird if I went to getmore stuff?”

Roman’s lips twitched up into asmile. “You didn’t judge me, so I’m not going to judge you.”

Virgil smirked. “Thanks.”

___________________________________________

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#sanders sides #virgil #virgil sanders #roman #roman sanders #patton #patton sanders #logan #logan sanders #deceit #deceit sanders #remus #remus sanders #writing #fanfiction #a storm rolled into town #Anonymous

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welcome-to-lovecraft-country · 5 years ago

Text

Misery Loves Company-Part 3

Pairing(s): Seth Rollins x Platonic!Female OC, Female OC x Kenny Omega, Jon Moxley x Platonic!Female OC (minor), Becky Lynch x Platonic!Female OC (minor)

Part 1/ Part 2/

After the weirdest weekend of doing the house show circuit with Roman as a mixed tag team against Erick Rowan and Natayla, it was time to go to Monday Night RAW. It is less than two weeks will be the Hell in a Cell PPV. Last year, Seth, Jon, and I were in a six-man mixed tag match with Dolph, Drew, and Ruby Riott. I am hopeful this year that creative lets me have a match. Even put me for the contender ship for Bayley’s title. Apparently, someone in creative had the great idea to have an in-ring segment with me and Seth about the Fiend situation and to have a Firefly Funhouse to interrupt us.

Fucking great. My fucking PTSD and anxiety will be rapid throughout this if the segment goes fine.

I wanted to wait until Becky’s promo against Sasha that is supposed to promote their match at Hell in a Cell to find Seth and confront him on the strange behaviors that he has been showing the past week. Dressed in my normal street clothes (a merch shirt cut into a crop top that shows off my toned stomach, black jeans, and black colored combat booties (so I can be as tall as Seth), and the infamous leather jacket that I had since coming to the main roster) walking around backstage trying to find Seth to talk to him.

The clicks of the heels hitting the pavement floors to create a loud sound that echos throughout the long hallway that has road cases on both sides of the hallway. I hear a scared welp from the corner between a road case and a wall. I walk over to see if who it was.

It was Seth-looking he just saw the ghost of Charles Manson and threated him that he would cut off Seth’s dick and make him eat it for fun. Wearing his “Ignite the Fire shirt” and his normal black skinny jeans and his gym shoes, it looked like he was so spooked by even seeing Bray that he tried to hide until it was time to come out to the ring.

“Seth, are you okay,” I asked with a concerned tone.

“Stef, we know each other for a long fucking time. This might be the first time in a long time that I have been truly afraid.” He looks terrified via his facial expressions. I get down the floor and sit next to Seth. I also starting rubbing his shoulder for comfort.

“I am too,” Seth’s eyes look in shock towards me, “Both of us are living in a nightmare even though we should be happy. I am ready to get this over and done with. Becky, Roman and I are concerned. Becky told me about you rambling Latin at 2 am last Tuesday.”

“I want to defeat the Fiend. I really do, but I do not think Hell in a Cell will be the end of this. How do you know that that I don’t speak Latin,” he asked in confusion.

“I am your go-to travel buddy when we go on tour abroad. You can barely utter a word in Japanese without looking like a dumbass. I AM the one that is dating someone who lives in Japan for the majority of a year.” We both laugh. It creates a sense of comfort that it seemed like it was lost.

Seth gets up and he held out his hand to me to help me up. “Come on, we need to address the fans about the Fiend. ALL OF US need to stick together no matter what. I know that Becky and I’s relationship is serious and new and you and Kenny’s is still something that I need to deal with. You will forever be my little sister in my life, Canary.”

“Like I said when you told me, if you hurt her or me, I will cut off your dick and feed it to you.” Seth laughs as I make my statement clear.

As we walk to Gorilla, I got him caught up on Jon’s condition during his injury and how Kenny (in character) is not taking it very well. In return, he tells me about his wrestling school and coffee shop back in his home in Iowa. Also, he keeps reminding me to come out and visit our days off. His music hits first. The fans’ reaction to Seth is always an energetic feeling to hear.

They truly love him (or maybe the version they see of him). A PA tells me to get ready for my entrance and hands me a mic in hand. My music hits right when Seth starts to talk. God bless the west coast, they always love when of their own comes home. Seeing fans wearing my shirt and holding up signs with my logo, my names, and my picture.

“Well, well, well. The hometown girl wants a little bit of the spotlight with the Universal Champ,” Seth says in character. Great, I am getting cocky prick Seth in this segment. This is going to be all over social media for the next 24 hours.

“You know what, Sethie, I know that in a few days you will be facing the Fiend inside Hell in a Cell. I am surprised you are not nervous at all things considering. I know this past summer you were more concerned being around “The Man” than understand that the threat of The Fiend looms large.” Seth looks at with a smug smirk on his face. The crowd cheers for my comments, some of them are started chanting for Becky.

“Stefanie. Seattle’s own Stefanie Rox. My personal favorite member of the SHIELD. We have known each other for a long time. I am the inaugural NXT Champion. You were 2nd woman to hold the NXT Women’s Championship and you are a former RAW women’s champion. Why are you so concerned about me? Or maybe you are holding a grudge for the past couple of years?” The crowd around it was reacting to Seth’s comment with a reaction that I haven’t heard in a long time. Seth trying to get the heel heat tonight.

“Maybe, yes. You did hit in the back with a steel chair. After all these years that I have known you, you never had a challenger to one of your titles like the Fiend. He destroyed Balor which if I remember correctly in the man that you “accidentally injured” during that match all of those years ago. Knowing Wyatt, he will break you mentally and physically to get that title off of you. This is unlike you being so reckless and ignorant.”

“Ignorant? How cute of you saying that. Do you know what is ignorant between both of us? I am open and I acknowledge that I am in a relationship. If you truly do love him, Stef, why don’t you tell us his name?” Great, now we are bringing Kenny into this. Fucking great. I wish I can bring the dick pics into this. I gave Seth the look of “I fucking told you if you ever brought up my relationship onscreen without telling me first I will cut off your dick.” The crowd reacted loudly to this because of course, they would.

“You are really changing the subject. Aren’t you?”

“He really must be a very “elite” guy that you really do care about him.” Okay, great. Twitter and the dirt sheets is going to be all over this for the next couple of hours. So, I did what any person would do in this situation. I slapped him. Seth dropped to his knee and held his jaw for additional effect.

“After your injury, you kept saying that you have changed really. You always are that cocky prick that you put your hands on me out of spite. You are truly a bitch of justice.” The crowd loudly reacted to that. My automatic reaction to his comments is that if he is turning heel or not. Or this is something inside of him that is making him telling him to say these things. This is making me more and more worried. The lights and sound start cutting off in the arena. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I try to leave the ring, but the arena goes dark before I get a chance. To whoever in creative who told me that there will be an episode of Firefly Funhouse and no appearance of the Fiend during the segment, kindly go fuck off.

The creepy and eerie music filled the darkness of the arena and flashes of light illuminate the ring barely. I see that me and Seth are not alone. Panic starts to settle in. Yowie Wowie chants start within the crowd.

He is here.

The Fiend who is making direct eye contact with me. Fucking hell.

Seth jumps the Fiend to protect me.

The Fiend throws him off like he was nothing. Seth is panic with fear. Wyatt steps closer and closer to me. I start grabbing the turnbuckle to try to escape the ring that way. Wyatt drags me out by the hair to the center of the ring. I scream for Seth or anyone to help me. Seth being Seth. He is wearing a curious, yet scared look on his face.

Sitting down in the corner of the ring. Wyatt picks me up by the hair. The mask’s lips touch my forehead. I tried to pull away from him, but there was no use. One of his gloved hand touches his face. I could not tell if which one it was. He looked back down me with his reddish-yellow eyes. He locks in the mandible claw on me. My muffled screams still let out. Wyatt drops me down to the mat of the ring, still having the mandible claw locked in my mouth.

Wyatt moves my head towards Seth. Making Seth look at me and my attacker. I start to reach out to him. He starts smirking and laughing alongside The Fiend.

"What the fuck is going on," I ask myself. Tears start coming to my eyes-ruining my eye makeup.

Seth's stoned facial expressions make me more scared. Seth rolls out the ring underneath the bottom rope. I start to lose consciousness. My body and heart are filled with regret and betrayal for the second time in my life. I hope to God that Becky, Roman, and Jon are not watching this. The lights and the sounds stop. The Fiend releases his hold on me and leaves as I pass out.

#seth rollins #seth rollins x reader #wwe fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #the fiend bray wyatt #jon moxley #roman reigns #becky lynch #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega

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