#like if charles is a little too busy for something toki would probably come to me and complain about it 😂😂

[rexscanonwife]

So what if I want Toki to imprint on me like a baby duck I think it's what we BOTH deserve 😤😤

[mrfelixfischoeder]

METALOCALYPSE ORIGINAL CHARACTER WEEK 2024: DAY 4

day 4: flirty or friendly banter

Charles conducts a meeting with all the Brass Knuckles girls upon his return - to know what he's getting into. Calypso is first. Based on my fic GirlKlok

His office is what she expects. Cal gives the Klokateer holding the door for her a quick nod and looked out at the sky behind him – the glass is so clean she imagines Toki would try and walk right through it. He’s writing something on his laptop, and Cal wonders; personal report? Security? Police? It quickly occurs to her that maybe, anything to do with Dethklok would go far higher than the police.

They probably have their own FBI department.

The moment her thighs make contact with her chair, Offdensen lowers the screen so he can see her. His glasses shine, and she can just see the reflection of his screen. Red hair like hers, a lot of writing. He’s writing about her. Cal’s expression remains neutral, but maybe there’s a perk of an eyebrow she can’t stop.

“Nice of you to invite me in.” she starts, and Charles watches her. Only briefly does he refer back to whatever picture he has on her file. How different is it, she wonders.

(He thinks – it’s not often he comes across a picture that is so vividly disconnected from the truth)

Her fingers trace the old wood of the armchair.

“I thought I ought to get to know you girls personally.” Offdensen explains, and Cal tilts forward.

“Well, what does your file say about me.”

Charles maybe smirks, it’s hard to tell, and though he raises the screen again, he slides the laptop pointedly to the right so he can still see Calypso. To be polite, she’s sure. But her back straightens all the same.

“It says, Miss Texas Teen Runner Up – and further. And some odd jobs that don’t quite fit that aesthetic… That you’re a skilled woman.” He’s not malicious about the Miss Texas part, but is evidentally more interested in her further skills: the cage fighting, the wrestling, the never ending bouncer work. Skills that, really, a band manager should have no interest in. “You don’t actually have much – if any – musical experience.”

“I’m lucky they gave me a chance.” Cal remarks dryly. And while it’s true she’s lucky the original members of Brass Knuckles wanted her for name alone to draw in numbers, she also is aware that it means they couldn’t have gotten where they are (so fast) without her.

“I’m sorry about your injury. Changing job industry can be, ah, difficult.” He refers to the injury that got her knocked out of wrestling to begin with. The damaged leg in question tingles, and she crosses it over her other.

“It’s healed fine. Mostly. Hurts on cold days.”

“I have a similar injury – storms, too.” Charles agrees, and Cal doesn’t know what comes over her;

“Maybe we can compare them one day.”

The suggestion isn’t immediately shot down by a look or a word. He does glance at her from his screen, and their eyes meet for a little longer than he wants, but her gaze seems hard to look away from. She’s challenging. His hand over the mousepad flexes and curls up, “Medical isn’t usually my field. But familiar hands are usually better than sterile.” He truly believes that. Mostly. Part of him doesn’t even know what it means, but he sees her rest her chin on her hand, finger idly stroking her chin.

“Mhm.” She’s amused, and something in Charles is pleased. He looks back at the screen, “You’re not what I thought you’d be, Mr Offdensen.”

“I’m not made to be thought about, Miss Huggenkiss.”

“Don’t call me that.” She instinctively asks. And why not? Why can’t she wonder about him? Ponder? Charles wonders what there is to think about. What else she might think. And what she expected.

“Alright, Mary.”

When she sees him peek at her again, Cal smirks – unable to argue. He won’t call her that again for some time – but it’s nice not to get reprimanded. To gain her approval. Not that he’s seeking that out.

 As they discuss menial business, finally, Charles closes the laptop completely. He stands up and walks around his desk.

“I think we’ve discussed everything I wanted to.” He stands by her chair – empty handed and headed. Cal suddenly stands to barely meet his gaze.

“And what about what I want?” she watches him, and he’s very good at acting as if he’s looking at her face, as he subtly notices the scars that travel beneath her grey camisole top. Subconsciously imprinting them to memory.

“What do you want?” Charles’ voice is dangerously low, curious, and Cal stares at the scar on his cheek. Wonders what else she might find if he didn’t cover up 80% of his body. Her teeth grit and he can see her jaw clench. Every muscle on her body is defined, like a marble sculpture.

“I want a drink.”

Charles, again, smirks so slightly Cal thinks it’s a trick of the light. And there is just enough silence that indicates he’s considering it.

“I’ll send you a list of bars that come highly recommended.” He likes the face Cal makes; judgemental, accepting, suspicious. It’s a marvel she can do all at once. Walking past him, her arm pushes against his. Not hard enough to be rude, but pressing against him enough to be memorable.

“I don’t want the place the boys like to go to most.”

Charles follows her to the door, making sure to get to the handle first – even if it means leaning past her. Easy enough when he’s got a good few inches on her. “Ah, no, no. You’ll see plenty of those. This will come from my personal list.”

Cal tries not to look at him as he stands at attention with the door open fully. But it’s hard, especially when she knows she has no idea when she’ll get to talk to him again. Not that that would be a problem.

“Places I like.”

“Places you go?” Cal tries to prompt, smirking as she steps into the hall. Finally Charles’ lips curl upwards into the clearest smirk she’s received this whole time.

“Places I like.” He refuses to elaborate, “I’ll be seeing you, Calypso.”

“Catch you later, shug.”

[nightklok]

8 Chuckles!

50Types of Kisses

I worked on this because i thought it would be short and sweet but NOPE (on the short part)-thanks for this it was cute writing this though! :D

8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. Trigger Warnings: drinking/alcohol use

The dethharmonic was a financial disaster to put it simply. Well, for the charity part it was actually quite successful. The costs regarding the clean up, reconstruction and compensation for the victims’ families, however, was something else. Even though it didn’t create much of a dent in their budget it was still a number Charles didn’t necessarily like to see.

So maybe concert charity events weren’t the best of ideas. The record label, the accountants, and people behind the scenes said that a charity event still needed to be done when the new year rolled around. And luckily, he knew how to play the cards just right to come up with a (hopefully) foolproof idea: a ball.

It sounded as unmetal as one would expect but it wouldn’t be just any ordinary  ball. Set it at Friday the 13th or a blood/full moon, make the theme gothic or give dark elements, have Dethklok perform an exclusive song, and it became the talk of the media once word got out about it.

The band surprisingly seemed fine with it once they heard they could help out with the theme and even pick out a charity. They had picked out a gothic gore viking victorian theme which was probably the hardest theme to ever try and match color schemes/aesthetics for. They picked a charity that set up music programs orphans and underprivileged children, which while was no children’s hospital was at least going to a good cause. A song was made in time for once as well, a song about some Victorian queen fighting the last viking but Charles wouldn’t complain about the odd choice of themes; a song was a song.

The date was picked, tickets went on sale only to quickly sell out the moment they were posted online, and it seemed like everything was slowly going to be smooth sailing from there.

Smooth sailing for the event itself. His personal life? Not so much.

Pickles was excited, more than usual, about the ball. He could’ve said it was because of getting a chance to drink all night long but knew it wasn’t because of that.

“I,ah, would need to remind you, Pickles, that our relationship still needs to be private.” Charles said to him.

“C’mon just one dance won’t hurt?” Pickles asked. He kissed him as he snuggled closer to bed with him. 

“I’m not sure,” Was all he really said, “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

In all honesty, it was his fault for setting Pickles up for disappointment. He should’ve told him that it simply wouldn’t be possible at the moment and save him the frustration and sadness. But he didn’t and went to bed feeling guilty like he was leading him on when he didn’t mean to.

The topic wasn’t brought up again and soon enough, it was finally the night. Charles had been dressed in Victorian attire; a light gray jacket over his white collared shirt and a dark green tie. It wasn’t that far off from what he normally wore but the jacket was very reminiscent of how long Victorian jackets normally wore. He had a historian fact check his outfit so it was probably the most accurate outfit of the ball. He greeted and welcomed the guests as he walked around the venue, looking for a particular redhead among the crowd.

It took a few minutes but he finally saw Pickles with the band enter. He had gone with a Victorian gothic look to match with the rest of the band. Of course he had to think it but he did believe he was the most strikingly handsome of them all. He had a long dark red jacket, imprinted with tiny skulls, a black shirt with a ruffled collar, no tie but he definitely didn’t need it in that outfit. He already had the stage make up on, presumably to make it easier to perform but it only added to the outfit.

He approached the boys with a gentle smile, “Looks like you boys really went all out on these outfits. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure we would’ve looked better as vikings but someone had to disagree!” Murderface glared at Skwisgaar who merely shrugged.

“Vikings are...overrateds.” Was all he said.

“Well, regardless, you all look great. Why don’t you go enjoy yourselves while you wait for your performance?” 

The boys didn’t argue to that and quickly dispersed among the crowd. Only Pickles was left though, eyes glistening in excitement, “You look really handsome in that outfit.”

No stranger to compliments, he still blushed regardless, “Well, you do too. Might even be better than me even if your outfit is inaccurate.”

“C’mon, give me a break. Hard to find an outfit that will even top yours.” He grinned, ready to reach up to touch his arm but remembered where they were so he stopped.

He wanted to kiss him so badly but he knew that it would not go over well. He could imagine it now; the music and crowd would pause like a film. They would gasp and then it would be all over the news within minutes and their careers would be ruined.

He couldn’t risk that at all so he did keep his distance from Pickles even though both their moods had slowly soured. 

“I’m sorry,” Was all Charles was able to say. It was almost a whisper, inaudible by the sound of music coming from the DJ but Pickles heard it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me. You go enjoy yourself, okay?” Pickles gave him a sad smile and could only give an awkward wave before leaving.

Charles saw him disappear behind the crowd. Before he could even go after him, he saw some business exec from a country approach him. His politeness caused him to be stuck in a conversation with him and eventually a few other business people about some collaboration with wanting to bring back minidiscs or something. 

He wouldn’t see Pickles until they performed, but even then they never made eye contact. He tried to approach him after the performance but was once again swamped with people approaching him and he had disappeared once again.

___

The last of the guests left the venue which left only Dethklok, some of their dates, and the klokateers beginning to clean up.

Nathan picked up a passed out Toki from the floor and hoisted him over his shoulder. He looked at Pickles who was drinking wine and eating the last of the cinnamon rolls they had, “Well, uh, gonna take him to bed and then go to sleep. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Nate.” He smiled up at Nathan who only patted his shoulder in return and left without saying another word.

Murderface seemed to have gotten lucky as he ended up approaching Pickles with Nathan and Toki’s dates by his side. He did bend down to whisper in his ear, “The guillotine’s not gonna be picked up for another thirty minutes. Just figured you’d wanna know.”

As tempting as it was, he had to reject that idea, “I’ll think about it. Go have fun.” 

Skwisgaar was nowhere to be found but Pickles had figured he picked up his, his own, possibly Murderface’s, and whatever other people he had flirted with to bring to his room. And while he would realize he was partially correct in that aspect, he would later learn that it was Skwisgaar that managed to get Charles away from his obligated casual meetings.

He was already finished with his dessert and was opening a bottle of wine to drink when he heard, “May I take a seat with you?”

Pickles looked up to find Charles standing there in front of him with an apologetic look on his face and he couldn’t say no to that. He gestured to the empty seat next to him with the opened bottle of wine, accidentally spilling some of it on the floor. He poured him a glass of wine as he sat down before drinking from the bottle for himself.

"Pickles, I’m sorry about tonight.”

“It’s okay,” He shrugged, “I mean, I know that we can’t just...be public ‘cause it’s not a good idea but it’s still a little disappointing, y’know?”

“I understand, I really do. I spent so much time tonight wishing I was with you rather than having to talk with so many people.” He placed his hand on top of the other’s squeezing it as if also silently reminding him that they were alone at least.

“Me too. Just sucks getting to see everyone dance with their fucking dates but we can’t even do something stupid like that.”

“It’s hard, I know. But it will be so worth it in the future, trust me. We just need more time to figure out when’s the right moment to tell such a thing. Even if the event is over, the night’s not quite over yet.” Charles said as he stood up from his chair. He offered a hand to Pickles, “May I have this dance?” 

Pickles looked up at him with a smile for the first time since the beginning of the ball and nodded. He took his hand and was led to the dance floor by him. 

The klokateer DJ didn’t need to be told anything and played a Testament song as there was no classical slow songs pre-installed as per Dethklok’s request. Close enough. 

Charles took his hands, kissing them gently before pulling him closer to kiss him deeply, “I may not say it enough but I love you, Pickles.”

“Don’t need to say it; I already know. I love you, too.” He smiled at him before wrapping an arm around his waist and taking the other’s hand.

Maybe having a private relationship wasn’t so bad, after all.

[thatwritingho]

Momento Mori

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Olive had been given all of 24 hours to pack her things and make arrangements before she was flown out for her two week trial in Mordhaus. Now, after a day to settle in and go over various rules and regulations and what seemed to be a ridiculous amount of health and safety waivers, she found herself in a rather lavish, gothic styled guest room, her bags tossed randomly across the floor, clothes strung out on the bed as she fretted and mumbled to herself over what to wear for her first meeting with the band.

“I don’t want to look too formal, but I don’t want to seem too casual either, oh my god why didn’t I pack more options I don’t have shit to wear fuck fuck fuck… should I wear something kinda sexy? I want them to think I’m hot but I don’t want to look like a fucking groupie either, this is supposed to be a professional meeting after all… god damn it…”

Dark eyes shot over to the plastic tub serving as temporary housing for her ball python, and she quickly approached, popping off the lid and lifting the snake out.

“What do you think, Apophis? Is this outfit ok for a first meeting?”

Said snake was draped over her neck as she walked to the mirror, turning this way and that as she mentally critiqued every little detail of her appearance. Her makeup was done, skin appearing flawless, dusty rose and grey eye shadow with matching rosey lips, and a dusting of gold highlight to compliment her skin tone, nails done with pointed tips and shiny black polish.

Her hair was proving to be as wild and unruly as ever, natural curls refusing to be tamed and forming a large pink mass on the left side of her head, a stark contrast to the dark brown stubble on the right. She longed to be able to pull it back in a classy french braid, but exposing the left side of her scalp was absolutely out of the question.

The grey, short sleeve turtle neck was tight and hugged her curves in all the right ways, accentuating her large chest without being revealing enough to be considered inappropriate, and the high waisted, black pencil skirt with equally black belt cinched in her waist before smoothing over her hips and coming to a stop at a modest-but-not-grandmotherly length just below her knees.

She had chosen short sleeves to highlight the sprawling art that made up the tattoo sleeve on her right arm, as well as the rest of the singular pieces littered across her other arm and both legs.

The ensemble did wonders for her figure, but it was still a bit plain. Missing something.

Boring.

And that was the last thing she wanted to seem when meeting her favorite band.

“If only I could wear you as an accessory, Apophis,” she sighed, walking over to the messy, tangled pile of metal that her jewelry had become in her haste to pack.

“Now… how to spice this up…”

After much frustration and cursing herself multiple times for not taking the time to properly store her necklaces, Olive finally managed to untangle her statement piece. It was simple, but beautifully crafted; a medium sized, smoky glass pendant attached to a long silver chain, a few shades darker than her top. To compliment, she fished out a plethora of silver studs and hoops to fill in all of her ear piercings, choosing plain black tunnels to make her stretched lobes stand out.

Slipping on a pair of black closed toe heels, she did one last turn, jolting a bit in surprise at the knock on her door, a muffled voice addressing her through the heavy wood.

“It’s time, miss.”

Nerves set heavy in the pit of her stomach as she returned the reptile to it’s home, and she bounced in the balls of her feet for a few moments before working up the courage to open the door, smiling politely at the Klokateer who was stationed outside her room, the very same one, it turned out, whom had been her mystery stalker a few days prior.

“Are you ready, miss?”

Olive cleared her throat awkwardly, nodding in response as she didn’t trust her voice not to crack, and began to follow after the rather large fellow who’s name she didn’t know, heels clacking against the stone floor as she fought the urge to vomit. He had introduced himself as a number, twelve-thousand-and-something, which was honestly very unnerving, and had her questioning whether she should be working for a place that dehumanized it’s employees so, but had decidedly disregarded the matter. It was probably easier for everyone involved, with the sheer amount of people they employed, to go by number instead.

Lost in thought as she was, she barely noticed as a large, medieval style door came into view, two more large, hooded men posted up on either side, and sucked in a few, hopefully discreet, deep breaths as it dawned on her that this was actually happening. Behind that door await the most famous, most musically talented men in the entire fucking world. Waiting to evaluate her. To judge her. To decide if she was worthy of their time. Worthy of their presence.

Oh, she was absolutely fucked! What had she been thinking? There was no way in hell that she was actually qualified for this!

Stalkateer, as she had dubbed the behemoth of a man, rapped gently on the wood, addressing her before entering.

“Please wait here, miss.”

Heart slamming against her chest, pounding in her ears, stomach about to implode, a cold sweat breaking out all over, she fought the primal urge to fucking run.

God I need to get myself together. I can do this. It’s just like any other stupid business meeting. Only this time it’s with fucking Dethklok. Oh god oh god…

After what seemed like hours but was in reality mere thirty seconds of Olive trying her damndest to avoid eye contact with the two guards, the door creaked open and Stalkateer reemerged, taking up post next to one of his coworkers.

“The masters are ready for you.”

.

Charles took a steadying breath, assessing the band members in various states of inebriation before him. He had requested they be sober for the first meeting with their potential physician, so of course none of them were, although he would give them credit for all being awake and semi interested, which is more than he could typically say about their usual alertness during meetings.

“So.. you uh, you really found someone, huh?” Nathan looked at him with mild skepticism, slouching in his chair, beer bottle in hand.

“Ah, yes, yes I did. And I can assure you that she meets all of your, ah, conditions.” 

“Scho then sche’sh hot, right?”

“And knows how to, uh, like, cut up corpses and stuff?”

“She’s ams a nice ladys too, rights? One whats know hows to haves fun?”

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Charles raised his hands in a silencing gesture, attempting to quiet the rapid fire questions, “why don’t you all make the call yourselves? I’ve asked her to do a two week trial, to, ah, see how she gets along with everyone. She should be here any moment now, actually, for me to introduce to you all.”

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door, a Klokateer entering and bowing before his masters, announcing the arrival of the woman in question.

“Ah, very well. Thank you, Number 12945. You may let her in.”

All eyes turned to the door, the click clack of heels approaching the only sound in the room as a small figure appeared, dark eyes glancing over every person in the room once as she made her way to stand next to Charles, looking every bit as cool and collected on the outside as she felt nauseous on the inside.

“Everyone, I would like you to meet Olive Axworthy, your new personal doctor.”

.

A deafening silence filled the room for a few moments as Olive stood before the band, all eyes on her as everyone was frozen for a beat, a bit shocked at just how very young, how very small, and how very pretty of a doctor Charles had managed to pull out of nowhere. She fought against the need to fidget under their stare, standing straight and proud with a neutral expression like she had been drilled to by her adoptive father.

“Dood. Are ya even, like, old enough ta be a doctor?”

Finally, the awkward silence was broken, Olive’s eyes snapping over to the owner of the voice and nearly squealing in excitement as she met the gaze of fucking Pickles the Drummer, frontman of Snakes n’ Barrels turned best drummer in the world, who was talking to her.

Oh sweet jesus, he was talking to her!

Respond, you idiot!

“Oh, um, yeah. I graduated early.”

Great, real articulate, Olive…

She could have smacked herself for giving such a lame answer, but he merely raised a pierced brow at her in response, and she nearly died from how ridiculously attractive it was.

“Scho are you like schome kinda geniush or schomethin?”

Dark eyes slid over to the person sitting next to the redhead, and she felt her heart flip at the sight of William fucking Murderface slouching in his chair, arms crossed and eyes racking over her body none too subtly.

Oh my god, he’s checking me out, holy fuck.

“Uh, technically, yeah, I am.”

“Huh. How ‘bout that.”

On the other side of the table, someone cleared their throat, and Olive was sure every person in the room could hear how loud her heart was pounding as she met the eyes of Nathan god damn Explosion, his broad form even more appealing in person.

Lord, how I’d love to be pinned under him…

“You, uh.. You can, like, work on, uh, dead people, right?”

Shaking off her perverted train of thought, Olive couldn’t help but smile at that, relaxing a bit as the topic turned away from her and to corpses.

“Yeah. I’ve been working in a morgue for the past year.”

“And you, like, take out all their, uh, organs and blood and stuff? You can do that?” He had leaned forward in his chair, becoming more attentive at the change in conversation.

“Yeah. I can do autopsies, embalming, cremation.. pretty much anything.”

“Oh, wowee! That ams so cool!”

Olive practically salivated at the sight of Toki Wartooth grinning at her from beside Nathan, his long, silky hair shining beautifully as he stared at her in fascination.

“Ja, how cools ams it tos cuts open people whats already died?”

“Yous ams so means, Skwisgaar! It ams too cool!”

Said blonde scoffed at Toki, fingers plucking away at the strings of the guitar in his grasp as his icey eyes sized up the woman before him, much slower and with much more purpose than Murderface had.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf. I’m in the same room as Skwisgaar Skwigelf. He’s so beautiful. This isn’t real.

Despite her Inner Fangirl blabbering away like an idiot, Olive managed to push aside the urge to jump the blonde and ride him for all he was worth right then and there on the table in front of everyone, instead shrugging as his eyes finally met hers.

“I mean, it’s pretty fun. Better than dealing with most living people, y’know?“

There were a few chuckles around the table at that, and Pickles stole her attention once more, a sexy, crooked grin on his face.

“Fun, huh? Is dat what ya cahll it?”

Olive grinned a slightly devious grin back at him, eyes glinting in mirth.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Whoah. So, like, can you, uh, show us? Like right now?”

Nathan’s face was lit up with childlike excitement, and as she glanced around the table, so were the other member’s, even Skwisgaar.

“Sure, why not?” Dark eyes turned their focus to the suited man next to her, who had been silent for this entire exchange, and he eyed her with slight suspicion as she smiled mischievously at him. Oh god, what had he done, putting this woman and Dethklok together? And with her next question, it cemented in his mind that she was going to be nothing but trouble for him.

“Got a body?”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

[atmilliways]

Are you still doing the prompt thing? If so can you do 46 please?

I am always and forever doing the prompt thing, gentle reader. Sorry for taking so long. 

(prompt meme)

This one is “Nathan, baby.” I’ve actually written something for this before, which you can read here if you like, but here’s something fresh off the top of my brain as well. In other news, this was originally going to be a different pairing, but it, ah… took a turn. In other other news, Skwisgaar is a sex addict and no one is surprised. 

–

When Toki first joined the band, they all figured he was the youngest out of all five of them. He was scrawny, kind of high-voiced, and relentlessly optimistic. It was the natural assumption. Even Toki had thought that. Then it came out — at some point after their new manager had tracked down Toki’s birth certificate and obtained things like a work visa and valid passport on his behalf — that he was born in late March. Which would have been fine. Except… Nathan had been born in May. Of the same year. The jokes were relentless, and there wasn’t really anywhere he could go in their shitty shared apartment to escape them. Doesch baby want hisch bottle?Mine eyes ams older then yours, can you reads what dats say to me?Dood, I’m gonna have ta see some ID before I letcha have this. Yous, kid! Gets off my lawn!You’re the youngescht, you get up and do it. So, whens am you olds enough to drink legalies?Jest call me Grandpa! … Wait, no, don’t do theat. I’m drunk. … Sonny. Nathan hadn’t wanted to strangle a group of guys to death more since he’d made the varsity football team at fourteen and the older boys had singled him out for hazing. And the most unfair part of it all was that when he confronted Offdensen — whose fault all of this obviously was — in his swanky corner office in the nice part of the business district, the guy wouldn’t let him throttle so much as one of the bastards. “We, ah, can’t afford to miss any performances this quarter,” Charles explained patiently, “and, well, giving any of your bandmates a beating might injure their arms or hands, rendering them unable to play. Crystal Mountain won’t appreciate their newest signed band having to postpone their first official tour.”Nathan growled in frustration. Charles raised an eyebrow. “I could… speak to the rest of the guys on your behalf, if you want.”“No! That’ll just make it worse.” Nathan slouched angrily into one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Fuck. Who cares if I’m younger than Toki? It’s only by a month and a half, and I’ve done way more shit than that fucktard. Did you know we had to explain what sex was to him a couple weeks ago? He didn’t even know.”“I see.” Pausing only to jot down a note for later on a post-it, Charles folded his hands and regarded the frontman seriously. Which Nathan appreciated, because Charles wasn’t giving him any crap or just saying something dismissive and waving him off so he could get more work done. “Perhaps it would help to brainstorm some, ah, ways you might demonstrate that being the youngest doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken seriously.”Nathan blinked. “Uh… okay. Well… I’m the leader, right? Dethklok is my band.”“Yes, that’s one point,” Charles said. “But that might be a little on the abstract side. Best to play to your strengths, Nathan.” “You just told me I couldn’t punch or tackle anybody!”“First of all, not exactly. I told you not to punch and tackle your band mates in order to facilitate solving this particular problem, at least for now.” Charles inclined his head just a bit. “Secondly, that would be too easy. You are by far in the best physical condition out of anyone in Dethklok — although remind me to have a conversation with you about the results from your most recent liver panel, once this has been resolved.”Maybe it was shallow, but Nathan perked up a little at the compliment, while at the same time tuning out that bit about his liver completely. “You think so?”Charles nodded and steepled his fingers. “Absolutely. Toki is probably the next strongest, but he’s still recovering from the effects of malnutrition and a few other downsides of living on the streets.”Nathan found himself nodding in agreement. “Yeah, he keeps complaining about those rabies shots. I mean, it’s just a shot, why does he have to be such a pussy about it? I wish I were at risk for rabies, fucking brutal…” “Yes, well.” Charles gave him a perfunctory smile. “I wouldn’t know about that. But I hope this little chat has helped and that, ah, we should be able to stay on schedule for the upcoming tour?”It was pretty clear after that that Charles had work he wanted to get done, so Nathan left. He walked back to the apartment, hands in his pockets, idly mulling over some ideas for a song about getting bitten by a bat and turning into a rabid vampire while knowing he probably wouldn’t do anything with it. What Charles had said in his office had made sense to Nathan, at the time. The longer he walked, though, the more dissatisfied he felt. Advice was all well and good, and getting compliments on his physical prowess was a decent bonus, but it didn’t actually settle anything. So he couldn’t actually hurt any of the guys — that was fine, he could figure out some way around that. He just had to beat them at something. Maybe even just one of them. … Toki. Toki was new, the weak link. All Nathan had to do was prove he was the crybaby. Once was probably all it would take to cement that reputation with the rest of the guys forever. When he finally reached the apartment, he was disappointed to see that the van was gone. They’d pooled their money, back before they’d really had any, and bought one of those white vans that only perverts owned — there had been a token effort to repaint the thing black, except they’d put Murderface in charge of getting paint and he’d gotten the wrong kind, so it looked even shittier but in a dull, lumpy kind of way. But the thing still ran, on a good day, and getting it to start usually meant celebrating with a bar crawl. Which was kind of a bummer to be left out of, but Nathan figured that at least it gave him more time to come up with a plan to take Toki down a notch. Maybe if he started scribbling down ideas in his trust notebook, something good would jump out at him. When he let himself into the dingy three-bedroom, he heard something. A soft, rhythmic squeaking. Heavy breathing… Two sets of heavy breathing. Nathan rolled his eyes in annoyance. It wasn’t exactly unusual for Skwisgaar to stay home and invite a skank (or three) over for some fun while the rest of them were out, but he and Nathan shared a room. He knew from experience that whatever the guy had going on in there could take hours. Better to just barge in with his eyes screwed mostly closed to avoid seeing anything that might scar him for life, get his notebook, and get the the hell out. Ideally without tripping over any discarded granny panties like last time. Ugh. Or maybe it would be someone young and actually still hot… It was a toss-up, really. You never knew with Skwisgaar.He put one hand on the doorknob, the other over his eyes, and bellowed, “Skwisgaar, I’m coming in!”Three things happened immediately. Nathan pushed the door open with a little too much emphasis, sending it against the adjoining wall with a bang. It bounced back and he caught it with both hands to keep from getting smacked in the face. Skwisgaar, with a yell of “WAITS,” tried to jump up and lunge for the door, but got his feet tangled in the blanket. He ended up rolling off the bed and landing on the floor with a hard thud. Toki shrieked and grabbed for a pillow to hide his naked chest. For a moment, there was nothing but deep, awkward silence as Skwisgaar picked himself up and sat on the edge of the bed with the blanket covering his lap. “What…” Nathan looked back and forth between the two guitarists, before finally settling his glare on the lead. “… the FUCK, Skwisgaar! What did I fucking tell you? No screwing anyone who’s in the band! That’s how your last seven bands ended up breaking up!”“Knowds I shouldn’t had tells you dat,” the Swede grumbled under his breath. “And you!” Nathan jabbed an accusatory finger in Toki’s direction. “What the hell are you doing, covering yourself up like a damn girl? You don’t have tits!”“Sorries,” Toki squeaked. He did not release his death grip on the pillow, or lower it even slightly. Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose, unconsciously mimicking something his mother had always done whenever she was particularly exasperated with him. “And god, don’t even get me started on how fucking gay this is. This is really going to fuck with the band dynamics.”“Pft, no it won’ts,” Skwisgaar said dismissively. “We’ve already beens fucking for a weeks and none of yous jackoffs notice, no big deals. Besides—” He smirked. “—I don’ts remembers no complaints to suckings yous off dat one times.”Toki’s eyes widened even further, and he stared at the frontman with a cross between nervous solidarity and mild jealousy. Through the roar of blood rushing to his face, Nathan wondered if it was possible to open your eyes so wide that your eyeballs just fell right out of their sockets. “That’s… different,” he mumbled. “We were both really drunk, so it didn’t count. And… I didn’t realize you remembered. That.” Just thinking about it, to his continued embarrassment, sent some of his blood rushing south as well. Drunk or not, that had been a pretty good night. “Well I does, so whats?” Skwisgaar shrugged, his long blond hair clinging slightly to his sweaty skin. Whatever he and Toki had been doing before Nathan had barged in, he must’ve been really into it. “You had never hads your cock sucks by a guy, and little Tokis here never hads sex with anothers porsons evers. Now you both has. No big deals, you don’t gots to be a bigs baby abouts it.”The word baby made Nathan’s eye twitch, and he was one hundred percent sure that was intentional. Part of that insight was gut instinct; the rest was the way Skwisgaar licked his plush lips and winked lasciviously. Nathan knew he was being manipulated, but it was working anyway. By the time he kicked the door closed behind him he already had his sleeveless t-shirt over his head and onto the floor. “Anyones here ever dones de threesome befores?” Skwisgaar asked with a shit-eating grin. “Noes? Well, pays attentions, school ams in session—”Nathan reached the older man’s bed and shoved him down flat on his back, landing across Toki’s lap. That took care of the leer. He straddled Skwisgaar’s hips and barely had to press down to feel his arousal pushing up beneath the blankets. Toki must have seen it too, because he let out a gasp and followed Nathan’s lead, grabbing for Skwisgaar’s wrists to pin his hands above his head. The younger guitarist looked up at Nathan with an earnest puppy dog look. He really just wanted to fit in and be accepted. Nathan, flushed with pleasure at coming out on top in this situation both literally and figuratively, magnanimously gave him a nod of approval before turning the majority of his attention back to the struggling Swede. “You’re not in charge here, Skwisgaar,” Nathan growled, putting more of his weight on him to prevent any real squirming around. He was starting to regret not taking his jeans off yet — what little movement the trapped guitarist could manage was targeted and stimulating — but there would be time for that soon. Right now he had a point to prove. In fact… He’s the weak link, Nathan realized with a feral, triumphant grin. Skwisgaar, not Toki. Of course! Offdensen had even said it, Toki would probably be among the strongest of all of them once the malnutrition wore off. Murderface was borderline scrawny but the guy bounced back from most things like a rubber ball and always had a knife on him, and Pickles was small but scrappy, and claimed to know twenty-two different ways to kill a man with a broken bottle. But Skwisgaar, his default approach to life was fucking. His libido was legendary, but it was also his weak spot. Anyone who’d ever been within fifty feet of him on the rare occasion a girl took off and left him with blue balls knew that. Making him submit would get him and Toki both to shut up about the whole baby thing, and the other two guys would get bored faster if they were the only ones making the jokes. Teeth still bared, Nathan leaned down and nipped at the pale skin connecting Skwisgaar’s neck and shoulder. He felt Skwisgaar suck in a sharp breath under him and, beneath that, Toki’s legs tensing. The kid was wound so tight that, Nathan realized belatedly, his erection was pretty much right in their faces… Time to see how far this situation could be pushed. Skwisgaar’s eyes widened as Nathan grabbed his chin between one thumb and forefinger. That other time they’d messed around, it hadn’t been anything more than straight-to-business pleasure, and he could tell Skwisgaar was wondering if some sort of kiss was about to happen. It was tempting — just to mess with him, of course, of course, what kind of guy would Nathan be if he admitted to himself that kissing was more than just a means to get ladies to agree to have sex — but no. He turned the blond’s mouth towards Toki and gruffly ordered, “Suck it.” And although Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, his pupils dilated at the command, and he did as he was told. Toki’s head hit the shitty plywood headboard with a thunk. Fuck, Nathan thought as he watched Skwisgaar go to town, rolling into the task with gusto. He really, really wishing he’d taken his jeans off earlier. Last time he hadn’t exactly been in a position to, you know, watch, but he remembered how good those lips had felt.

Nathan scrambled back up onto his knees on the edge of the bed and yanked on his zipper so hard it nearly came off, but holy shit it was a relief. For a moment he got lost in just watching and just palming himself through the front of his tented boxers, but then Toki whimpered. What a baby, Nathan thought, and that reminded him of the increasingly forgettable point of all this. He scrambled off the bed to shuck both his pants and boxers in one go, and sat next to Toki at the head of the bed. Skwisgaar was kind of in the way, but Nathan just threw his legs over the guy and used his bony-ass hip as a leg rest. Then he grabbed the rhythm guitarist’s hand and shoved it towards his cock.

The hand gripped, and Nathan groaned. In this, it seemed, Toki needed little to no instruction, presumably because he’d been practicing this particular activity on himself for longer than he’d known what to call it. No willing to be outdone, a second later Skwisgaar’s hand was there too, taking over any of Nathan’s length that needed attention. The frontman even couldn’t muster any shits to give when Toki’s head thumped down on his shoulder, mouth turning wetly against his skin to muffle the squeaky little sounds that Skwisgaar was wringing out of him, or when Skwisgaar started grinding against the backs of his thighs. It felt too good, too warm, too temporary to bother with second thoughts, and he really hadn’t ever had a threesome before.

Maybe this was something to look into doing more often… With, uh, chicks, of course. Obviously. It didn’t take long after that. Toki came with a choked cry into Nathan’s hair, his grip spasming just right to bring Nathan to the edge but disengaging as he slumped bonelessly in the other direction. Nathan growled and groped blindly until he found a handful of blonde hair and tugged Skwisgaar’s obliging mouth over to finish. He felt immensely pleased with himself for managing to turn an otherwise aggravating day around, with very little resistance or backtalk from the other two men. That was real leadership. Nathan’s last thought before he went over the edge was that if anyone was a big gay baby it was probably Skwisgaar, for being so into sucking cock. And for swallowing both times. And getting off to it into his own hand. Nathan waited a few minutes to get his breath back, then languorously got to his feet. He surveyed the battlefield of tangled sheets, strewn pillows, and sweaty, limp guitarists with a warm glow of dominance and superiority, then left without comments to take a shower. It wasn’t until he was under the hot spray and working some 2-in-1 shampoo into his hair that he realized, none of them had the excuse of alcohol to hide behind. He’d been basically sober — at least, as sober as anyone who’s breakfast had consisted of beer and potato chips could be — and he hadn’t smelled anything particularly strong on Skwisgaar or Toki’s breaths. So what did that mean? Shit, what if it happened again?After a moment of silent contemplation, Nathan shrugged and continued washing. As far as he was concerned, his problem was solved. Everyone would still be able to play for the tour, so Offdensen would be pleased, even though this probably hadn’t been what he’d had in mind when advising Nathan to use strength to his advantage. And however things went from this point, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it fuck up his band.

[izzy-b-hands]

if it's not too late then skwistok fluff pls

Not too late at all! I’m at my family thing for most of the rest of the day here, so these prompts are perfect; keep em coming you guys!! I’m sequestered in a spare room with my IPad lol. Decided to go extra cutesy and fluffy here, just because I can but also because I’m feeling all cuddly myself (but the person I want to cuddle with is many miles away sadly.) So, two birds with one stone here in prompt fulfillment for you guys, and wish fulfillment of a sort for me! Had to put a little bit of sad in it, but let’s be real here you guys know to expect the Angst from me lol. Toki and Skwisgaar’s Excellent Adventure (of bugging the shit out of everyone else) He should have been happy. She was gone—really, truly gone. She’d died out of his way, hadn’t even had it set up so anyone would call him back for the funeral. Servetta Skwigelf was gone, the stress and fear she’d brought him was gone, but there he was—tucked up in bed, tears rolling down his face. He felt utterly stupid. No one had come to check on him yet. He’d told Charles to tell everyone else, but he hadn’t wanted to see it. Partially because he didn’t want them judging his reaction to them hearing the news, but also because he was sure Murderface would start ‘mournsturbating’ (a thing he had made up himself for whenever someone he found hot died) right there at the breakfast table. And no one needed to see that. “I can leaves if you wants,” Toki’s voice, very soft, very quiet, sounding like he was just at the doorway to his room. How the hell he’d snuck in so quietly, Skwisgaar didn’t know. He had to think about it for a moment. Did he want him to leave? It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to see him being upset, but then again he was also owed some comforting by Toki (who had used him as a source of comfort during their last Disney movie binge; Bambi’s mother dying had done him in.) “Stays,” he heard himself mumble, his voice thick and gruff, unused all morning. “Okays,” Toki’s reply was only a murmur itself, as he climbed onto the bed beside Skwisgaar. Toki’s weight up against him wasn’t a foreign sensation; Skwisgaar found himself as the go-to person for Toki to lean against and fall all over most days, and on date nights Toki could be especially clingy. But in this context, with his eyes burning from the tears and one of Toki’s hands softly patting his shoulder, it was different. “You amn’ts happy about its?” Toki asked. He’d been dreading that question, but he knew it was coming. “I...I don’ts know. I thinks I ams, just...not yets.” “Maybes yous need to does somethings happy, then yous feels it,” Toki suggested. He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t feel like doing much of anything, unless it involved staying in bed and just laying there. “Gets up. Wes goes and has fun,” Toki said, his patting hand now pulling at Skwisgaar’s arm. “Gots ideas for this, you ams goings to love them.” He sincerely doubted that he would. But no one else would come bother him if they saw him busy with Toki—no more chance of awkward well-meant platitudes, no Murderface asking for any of his mother’s old clothes or something fucked up like that, no Charles asking him if he wanted time off to go to Sweden and see her grave (he’d already asked him twice, but he knew he would ask again.) He let Toki pull him out of bed, and tried to get dressed as if he gave a shit, all the while Toki smiled and hopped about excitedly. Toki dragged him into the front yard from there. “Okays, here ams the first ideas. You sees Nathans?” He did. Nathan was asleep in a hammock set up on two of the few trees near Mordhaus, snoring as loud as fuck. Granted, he was only a few feet from the picnic tables and them, but he snored as loudly as he sang (really fucking loudly.) “Wes ams going to gives him a little wakes up calls,” Toki giggled, and pulled a bucket of firecrackers from under one of the picnic tables. “He will kills us, you ams knowing this?” Skwisgaar asked. It would be fun, but waking Nathan was like waking up a bear. Toki nodded. “Wes runs fast; he can’ts catch us then.” That much was true. Nathan could be fast when he wanted to be, but out of the whole band only Pickles could ever catch up to them if they took off. And that was probably more the cocaine than any actual physical ability. The first firecracker didn’t phase him too much. Toki had landed it right by his hip, but Nathan only half-woke up and swatted it away. The next one Skwisgaar tossed, right into his hair. Toki clutched at his arm, “Be readys to run.” It went off, and so did Nathan. His scream was animalistic, as he flipped out of the hammock onto the ground, a few smoking hunks of hair following him. He didn’t wait for Toki to tell him to go, he just went. Nathan’s boots pounded the dirt fast behind them, like a metronome tapping out the rhythm of how badly they’d fucked up. Toki ended up just ahead of him, at one of the big spruce trees at the edge of the yard. He scrambled up it, and Skwisgaar found himself following without even thinking about it (or how badly it would fuck up his hair as the branches caught on it.) “We mades it,” Toki said, his chest heaving from the run. Skwisgaar could only nod, it felt like his lungs were on fire. The tree shook just a bit as Nathan head butted it, still screaming incoherently and angrily. “I thinks wes ams stuck here for a whiles,” Toki said. Skwisgaar nodded again. It would be suicide to go down now, even as Nathan stomped away. They needed to give him time to cool down first. Not that he minded, actually. The branches were just big enough to sit comfortably on, and they’d gotten pretty high up—you could see for ages, and the breeze was nice. He let Toki prattle on for a bit about some model he was building, only half-listening as his brain threw him a bunch of memories about his mother. What she would have done if he’d done anything like that as a child and she’d caught him (nothing, which was even worse than something, because he knew it meant she didn’t care.) “Looks, it ams Murderface!” Toki chirped suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. He peered down. Murderface was sat at the base of the tree, mumbling sadly about something (probably Servetta.) “Wants to makes him thinks he ams losing it?” Toki asked, pushing a pine cone into Skwisgaar’s hand. It was almost too easy. He dropped the pine cone, right onto Murderface’s head. “Hey, what the fuck?” Murderface turned to look up the tree, but Skwisgaar realized they must have been just covered enough by the branches to be hidden. “Agains,” Toki urged, reaching out to another branch for a new pine cone and pushing it towards him. This time he gave it a good toss, and Murderface shouted as it hit him. “Thisch is bullschit, just scho you know!” He screamed up into the tree. “I am in mourning, and the fucking universche can’t let me do that?!” Toki was giggling hard enough Skwisgaar had to keep a hand on him so he wouldn’t tumble off his branch. The one Toki threw was perfectly timed; it nailed Murderface right between the eyes as he yelled into the branches. “Oh, fuck thisch schit!” Murderface was tomato red as he flipped off the tree and walked away, grumbling under his breath. “It ams too easy with him,” Toki laughed. “He ams always so angry. And alls wes did was throw a few of thems!” Skwisgaar let himself laugh and nodded. It felt good. Besides, if he knew anything for sure it was that Murderface was probably thinking about his mother in some disgusting way; he deserved a few pine cones to the head for that. “We shoulds go down, find Pickle,” he suggested. Toki nodded, but they didn’t have to go down at all to find him. “Okay, I’m s’posed to—this is fucking stupid—tell you, Mr. Tree, stop hitting Murderface with pine cones. Now, I’m not a dumb fuck, so I know two certain people are in this tree being a bunch of motherfuckers. I ain’t gonna rat you out, but you gotta stop throwing ‘em, okay? He’s already super sad and just gross, don’t make it worse,” Pickles shouted into the branches. Toki looked at Skwisgaar, at the pine cone already in his hand, and let it go. “I said, fucking stop! I am not the enemy here; I’m keeping him and Nathan from coming back out here and cutting the damn tree down to get to you two,” Pickles shouted. Skwisgaar kicked at a pine cone on the branch nearest him and sent it flying. There was the clunk of it hitting a dread-locked head. “Okay, fuck you both. I’m done with this. If they come back out here, you’re on your own. I’m keeping Charles in my room, so you can’t even call him for help,” Pickles yelled. They looked at each other and shrugged. Pickles walked off again, only barely visible between some of the bigger branches. “Whats now?” Skwisgaar asked. This was turning out to be more fun than he’d expected, even if they were just pissing everyone else off. But what else could be more fun? “Wes could make a runs for it, in a little bits,” Toki said. “Makes sure Nathans and Murderface aren’t comings out here first.” “And goes where, exactlys?” Skwisgaar muttered. He didn’t want to ruin the fun, but the forest just out from the edge of the yard didn’t seem too welcoming a place to spend the night without a tent or anything. Toki smiled. “I has a place. Charles has it builts for me, I shares it with you but you can’ts tell anybody else abouts it.” This was intriguing. “Okays, it ams our secrets. Why you ams not tellings me abouts it before?” Toki shrugged. “You probablys will thinks it ams lame. But I really likes it, so...” Toki was right to think that way, but it still made his chest hurt a little bit to hear it out loud. “I nots makes fun of its. No matters what. I promise.” Toki grinned. “You means it?” Skwisgaar nodded. He really did. Not just because they were dating now, and it felt fucked up to be that mean to a partner (even if Toki was, well, Toki.) Besides, everything so far had been simple but fun—maybe this secret place was more of the same. Toki started down the tree, and Skwisgaar followed. From there he took them down a path into the forest, which was dark and foreboding in a strangely nice way. “Here,” he said finally, stopping in front of a huge oak tree. “I reads about these, when I first gots to America. I didn’ts knows what it was until I looked it up, but I wanted one as soon as I saws it.” It was a tree house, very high up the tree, and enormous for such a structure, extending out into the branches of the trees beside it. He’d never wanted such a thing himself, as a child or an adult, but this one was pretty fucking cool. Toki walked over to the base of the tree and pulled a very long rope ladder from where it was wrapped around a low-hanging branch. “Comes on. Wes pull up the ladders once we ams up there, and thens they can’ts get to us no matters what.” It was surprisingly fun, climbing up after Toki. He would be glad to help keep this place a secret, not just because it was useful to them now to have someplace to hide, but because the whole thing was fun—honest, childish, freeing fun. For a split second, he could hear his mother’s voice, yelling at him for getting dirty climbing up trees. He told it to go fuck off, and immediately felt better. The inside of the tree house was somehow, impossibly high tech (for a tree house, at least.) There was a TV with a DVD and a Blu-ray player, a few video game consoles, and a laptop set up on a small desk with a router by it. How the hell Charles had gotten WiFi and electricity out there, he didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to question a good thing. “Bathrooms ams there,” Toki said, pointing to a small door at one end of the round room. “It ams not great, but ams better than a bucket.” That explained what had looked like a pipe running down one side of the tree, Skwisgaar was suddenly very glad he hadn’t touched it. “Wes got snacks and beer and stuffs in here,” Toki continued, gesturing to a huge cooler up against one part of the wall. “Takes whatever you wants, Charles makes sure there ams always more.” “I can sees why you kepts this secrets,” Skwisgaar said. “It ams really nice up here.” Toki nodded. “I loves it. I nevers has anythings like this whens I was a kid, so I gets to have it now.” He moved to the giant pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, and motioned for Skwisgaar to follow. It was even better than it had looked, it felt like there was some sort of mattress beneath them. With the extra blankets and everything, it didn’t just feel extra comfortable—it felt safe. Toki fanned a few different DVDs out as choices, and looked to Skwisgaar. “Whatevers you wants. Even somethings extra scary.” He was surprised Toki even had any of those out there, but sure enough there was a whole selection of horror movies set by one of the consoles on the floor. Either he was getting braver, or he’d been planning to bring Skwisgaar out there at some point no matter what. He went with Cabin in the Woods—scaryish, but funny enough it might not keep Toki from sleeping. They reclined on whatever the thing on the floor was as the movie played, and he realized it had worked. All of Toki’s silly little ideas, simple and quick, had been fun, fun enough that he’d been able to banish his mother from his head. There was still a strangle tightness in his chest when he let himself think of her, but it didn’t make him want to curl up in a ball anymore. “Thanks you,” he murmured, half-hoping Toki wouldn’t hear and wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. “You ams welcome,” Toki replied, scooting himself over until he was tucked up against Skwisgaar. He let his arm fall around Toki, and relaxed. This was what it was then, how it felt. She was gone, which meant he never had to think about her again if he didn’t want to. She was gone, and she wouldn’t ever be able to bother them or try and ruin this good thing that he had. She was gone, and he finally felt happy about it.

[ohgodsnowwhat]

Fantasy in Metal

Yes; I am posting my first fanfic after my second fanfic. I'm a rebel like that. I have also come to the conclusion that I suck at endings, which may be why I don't always finish what I start. Oh well. Please feel free to offer concrit. I'm not used to writing stuff that isn't one-on-one smut. Thanks to @neko-otaku13 for her encouragment on this!

The light had returned to Lucis – to all of Eos, for that matter. King Noctis and Lady Lunafreya, the Oracle, had passed over into the realm of much-deserved happily-ever-afterlife.

Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis, however….

Look, not even Astrals are perfect. Clerical errors happen.

****

“What do you mean, they’ve been reincarnated into another universe?” thundered Bahamut at the little fennec fox. “For their service, they should have been transported to the same region as King Noctis and Lady Luna!”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine; those guys always manage. Nothing to be too concerned about, but when their time is up here maybe, um, you can take a more personal interest to see that they get to the right place? I was supervising the moogles in charge of reassignment, and with the chocobos on strike there were some issues getting everyone to the office. We are lucky that there aren’t more souls floating around in Limbo!” Carbuncle looked up at the Draconian Astral, gulped nervously and said, “But of course I will supervise their next reassignment myself.”

“If they had been born into their new roles it wouldn’t be so bad,” offered Shiva, “but they have been, well, stuffed into pre-existing personas! This is a DISASTER!”

“At least they will be worshipped as gods in that realm,” put in Ramuh.

Titan sighed and poured himself another whiskey-and-soda.

****

Charles Offdensen pushed up his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. He had been going over the band’s financial statements when he was hit with the idea for a new recipe. This was odd because he didn’t cook; Jean-Pierre was more than adequate to fulfill his nutritional needs. “I must be working too hard,” he thought; when he was interrupted by another thought, this one in a more refined tone of voice: “Nonsense! It is a duty and privilege to serve one’s liege! And furthermore… One moment, where am I?”

****

Nathan Explosion was busy, working on the 67th of his hundred beers and putting the final touches on “Go Forth and Die”. Except… those weren’t the words he originally wrote, were they?

Trapped inside a crystal Ten long years Hiding from the world Forgotten by your peers

“Huh,” he growled, “sounds more like the plot of a video game. Well, these beers aren’t gonna drink themselves. New song idea: Self-drinking beer.”

****

Toki Wartooth was in his room, happily working on his model planes when a little voice in his head told him that he should see if there were any new pupper videos. Toki was okay with this, and hummed happily to himself as he flipped on YouTube. After about a half hour, the voice asked about video games, to which Toki replied, “We amsk gots a room full of video games! Is you my new friends in my heads, little voice? Is yous gots a names?” “Well,” the voice answered back, “I’m Prompto, but where am I and how did I get here?” “I don’tsk knows Promptos but let’s go play DDR! Yous is Toki’s friends now!”

****

Pickles noticed that there seemed to be something a little off about his manager and bandmates. Nathan was doing a lot more reading than drinking; although he still churned out songs unnaturally fast, now they were more about crystals, lost kings, and something called “chocobos”. The latter made Toki ecstatic and he would go on for hours about them. This was puzzling as Toki was known to have had an austere and abusive childhood, and whatever these “chocobos” were, Pickles was sure they weren’t native to Norway. Skwisgaar, as self-centered as he was, had mentioned that to Pickles. Sweden was practically Norway anyway, but Pickles knew if he said that, the blond guitar-slinger would retreat to his room for a week to get over his sulk with the assistance of various GMILFs. Normally that wouldn’t bother Offdensen, as he didn’t have to worry about paying for abortions or child support (Skwisgaar was SO. MUCH. CHEAPER in that regard than the rest of the band), but Pickles had noticed that Offdensen was now more prone to lecture the band about personal responsibility, hygiene, and the need to be cost-efficient. Well, he WAS their CFO, but he hadn’t minded before… Were they in financial trouble? Even countries went belly-up from time to time, and Dethklok’s income when ranked beside the GNP of other countries was at a healthy and respectable 7, so maybe…?

Pickles decided then and there to visit Charles Foster Offdensen in his office.

****

Murderface didn’t care. He drank another beer, belched, and scratched his belly over the “Pobody’s Nerfect” tattoo. That had been some night when he got that – too bad, he thought, that he didn’t remember it.

****

“Yo, Robot!” exclaimed Pickles as he burst into Offdensen’s office. “I been meanin’ to talk to you about how you’ve been acting lately and-” He came to a sudden stop as he took in Toki and Nathan already seated across from their manager, heads close together conspiratorially. “What is this? I know something has been going on, but this better not be fucking with our bread and butter here.”

“Ah, yes… Pickles…maybe it is time to explain,” came the odd cultured voice that had been emanating as of late from Offdensen. “From my observations, I believe you would have a better grasp of the situation than, say, Mr. Skwigelf or Mr. Murderface.”

“Yes, that is true,” came the more typical Offdensen voice. “Pickles does have a greater intellect than he lets on, despite the mass quantity of chemical substances he indulges with.”

Pickles was taken a bit aback and tried to recover as best he can. “This better not be some touchy-feely type of intervention, ya douchebags. Because that is so not metal.”

****

“Ignis”, as the cultured voice called itself, launched into an epic tale of kingdoms lost, love lost, Hell even daylight lost; lots of attacks from every angle, deep and mysterious dungeons filled with monsters and demons beyond imagination, and eventual redemption at the price of a blood sacrifice. When it came to drug-induced imaginings, no one – hands down – could come close to Pickles, which is what finally made Pickles realize that he was being told the truth. It also accounted for, he thought, a greater element of story-telling in Nathan’s lyrics recently (although he could do without the gothic romance stuff – so not metal).

The “Gladio” voice that resided in Nathan chimed in… well, more like “contra-bassooned” in - with “It’s not all bad; I think this could be fun for a bit. I’ve always liked writing poetry and I feel I am good at this songwriting. Not entirely sure what you and your resident blondie mean by “metal” but I’m sure I’ll pick it up. And women! And beer! I don’t have to stay sober and celibate all the damn time to watch over everyone else’s dumb asses!”

Toki’s resident “Prompto” piped up, “Yeah! It would be like totally cool to be rock stars! I…” and here the sunshine voice faltered and whispered, “I just wish Noct was here with us.”

The tone was so heartbreaking that even Pickles wanted to comfort Toki, much like Nathan and Offdensen were doing, even though he knew it was really the three specters within his friends that were engaged in a cuddlefest at the moment.

After a while, Pickles grew visibly uncomfortable at the snuggly intimacy before him. He cleared his throat. “Um, hey… so…like… Is there anything we can do to get you back to where you belong?”

Offdensen qua Offdensen shook himself loose from the huddle and said “Well, if Ishnifus were still with us, he would probably be able to help. I am the new High Holy Priest, but not all avenues are open to me yet. Right now, though, the only person who could possibly assist is the one person we are absolutely unable to turn to for help. Nathan, Toki – I am referring to Mr. Salacia. “

“You means the big creepy fella?” asked Toki. “The ones who tried to haves us killed?”

Nathan perked up. “Yeah, that guy is bad news. Probably at least as bad as if not worse than that Ardyn fellow you were telling us about.”

Here is where Pickles felt he could shine. “I have a better idea – Nathan, remember that tribe you are related to in South America? Honey Mangoes or something like that?”

“Yaneemango. Chief Otoe is my grandfather, but yeah, why – Oh. Yopo. That released our spirit animal forms, but – “

Here the “Ignis” voice jumped in. “What? That may be the answer. How can we best achieve this? I have noticed geography is vastly different than what we are used to, but I believe we can make it there from this Mordhaus of yours in a matter of 4 days, including stops for curatives and provisions. Prompto, Gladio, we must confer with our host bodies as it will be them bearing any physical discomfort caused by this experiment.”

Nathan qua Nathan softly growls “Close your eyes and become the animals that you once were… Yeah, I’m down for this. It was cool becoming an alligator. But we have to bring Murderface and Skwisgaar – you too, Pickles.”

“Like I would turn down a chance to be an octopus again? I could play drums and guitar at the same time.”

****

Ignis had no problems with traversing a rainforest. Neither did his fellow Crownsguard really; Prompto just liked to complain about his feet hurting and question if they were there yet with a whine in his voice. Quite the trouper, he was. But despite sharing hotel rooms and tents around Eos and being accustomed to the sight of each other’s bodies, at least while they had corporeal bodies, nothing could have prepared Ignis for Murderface splayed out on deck completely nude. It was a small relief that rest of the band felt the same way, since the retching noises did nothing to deter the bass player from sprawling naked on a lounge chair while reverentially whispering “Ah, freeballing”. Ignis supposed he should be grateful the man refrained from urinating over the side of the boat, after it was relayed to him by Skwisgaar how a fish called a “Candiru” managed to lodge itself in Murderface’s urethra the last time they made this journey. While Ignis respected Skwisgaar’s talent, he had a limited tolerance for the man, as aspects of his personality were too similar to Loqi Tummelt for his taste. He felt that in Charles Foster Offdensen, he found a kindred spirit. They would often have silent conversations about the importance of lighting, and what separates the good lamps from the cheap lamps.

Gladio-within-Nathan thought this was a fine adventure; very few critters were trying to kill him, and the resident large, spotted cats kept to themselves and didn’t throw lightning bolts with the wrath of Ramuh at him. He was also silently communing with Nathan, and wishing he could stay a little longer – beer, booze, women, fame, money, lack of people trying to murder you just for being associated with royalty – yeah, a guy could definitely get used to this.

Prompto liked Toki and could relate to the child-like nature of his host body; they had much in common. Animals, video games, models of aircraft (even though what Toki worked on was nothing like the aircraft Prompto was familiar with), not to mention a brutal and lonely childhood – Toki, much like Prompto himself, often exhibited a warm and cheerful exterior to hide the small, scared child inside. At least Toki had parents, but Prompto reflected that maybe having no parents was better than having parents that were outright cold and abusive. That clown, though… Prompto admitted to himself that Dr. Rockzo was on the creepy side, even for a clown; and that was saying something.

Offdensen genuinely liked and respected his spirit resident; he wished he had an army of Ignises around. He just wanted his body back with himself as the sole occupant.

Nathan thought Gladio was a bit of a tyrant with his extensive exercise regimen, but Nathan could appreciate the results in himself. For one thing, it extended the time he could go between liver transplants; for another, it gave him new perspectives and topics for writing songs. “Battle Coeurl” had gone quadruple platinum overnight! Dick Knubbler had practically came in his boxers when he heard that, and Abigail…. Nathan smiled slightly at the memory of Abigail practically dragging him to the floor for that one.

Toki was happy to have a new friend that liked the same things he did and could relate to a bad childhood. He felt sad at the prospect of losing Prompto, but he was excited to see if he would become a shamanistic bunny again.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf was completely unaware that anything had changed with either the robot or his bandmates. He continued running scales and arpeggios on his custom Thunderhorse and gloating to himself over how superior it was to Toki’s Snow Falcon. He experienced mild disappointment when Toki didn’t play “Stops Copies Me” at the gear library, something Pickles called “sporting goods store, ya douchebag – and now my blood sugar’s low again.”

Pickles was at a bit of a loss. He kind of wanted to have a spirit buddy to talk with, but at the same time he didn’t think he was ready for that kind of intimacy. He was actually pleased; he had been looking for a reason to go back down for another dose of Yopo, but it would have been awkward dropping in on his bandmate’s relatives without Nathan in tow. If he’s gonna die, might as well die high!

Murderface napped, occasionally belching and scratching himself in awkward places in his sleep. He was looking forward to being a white tiger again; as a bass player he didn’t get a lot of respect, but as a tiger? Wow! No one would dare turn a tiger down in the mix, or have the lead guitar player (that damn Skwisgaar!) record new notes over a tiger’s bass leads!

****

Both Offdensen and Ignis thought having hordes of Klokateers drag their boat over a mountain and through the jungle was a bit excessive, but not a single member of Dethklok showed any inclination of making the final trek under their own power. Gladio was fuming and silently berating Nathan for this lack of industry, and Prompto and Toki were too caught up in playing “I Spy” to pay attention.

They knew they had reached their destination when they found themselves surrounded by spears, which were lowered as the Yaneemango tribe recognized the faces on the mountain. Offdensen found he was able communicate their issues to the shaman, having briefly studied the tribe’s language after the last time the band ran off to experience Yopo. The shaman had recognized quickly that there were foreign spirits residing within, and agreed to perform the Yopo ceremony to attempt to free them.

****

“BOSS!” yelled a moogle to Carbuncle, “You gotta come here, Kupo! This realm where Noct’s entourage ended up is going to try to separate their souls, Kupo!”

Carbuncle scurried to the moogle viewing device as fast as his four furry feet could carry him. “Quick! Patch me through to Bahamut!” The communication device crackled to life. “This had better be important,” came the deep voice over the speaker. “Sir! The primitives are going to try separating their souls from their bodies! Can you please lend your assistance?”

In less than the time it took to blink an eye, Bahamut was in the control room. He didn’t feel there was anything he could do, but it would let the moogles feel as though everything was in order. He wondered for a moment if it was blasphemous on some level for an Astral to pray.

****

The fires were lit, the chanting had begun. The shaman blew Yopo into the faces of Dethklok and their manager/CFO/legal advisor/High Holy Priest of the Church of the Black Klok. From their bodies rose the form of a hawk (Skwisgaar), white tiger (Murderface), octopus (Pickles)… and instead of an alligator and a rabbit from Nathan and Toki, there were the ghostly figures of a mountain of a man with long dark hair, glowing amber eyes, and chiseled abs; a fluffy-headed blond with eyes like a sunny afternoon and a smattering of freckles, and drifting over from Offdensen was the figure of a tall, lean man with glowing green eyes and medium brown hair; although they could see remnants of massive scarring around his eyes, he had the most beautiful smile and he gazed peacefully back. The three linked hands, slowly dissipating into small blue glowing orbs, then a sudden flash of light as –

****

The moogle crew, Carbuncle, and even Bahamut were whooping it up in the control room. It was a success! Souls retrieved and Bahamut made a mental note to add a paycheck bonus for all those involved. Even himself.

****

The three Crownsguard found themselves abruptly in what looked like the throne room of the Citadel, before Niflheim attacked. Prompto was the first to recover, yelling “NOCT!!!!” as he barreled up the stairs and was met by a charging King Noctis, wrapping their arms around each other, swiftly followed by Ignis and Gladio. Tears were shed, and no one spoke – or could speak – for the longest time. There was no need. They were home.

[nightklok]

Abigail for the ask meme!

YES OF COURSE

1) Uncommon headcanon about them I am deeply attached to. 

She’s autistic, just undiagnosed until she hangs around Nathan and realizes her similarities with him and then she figures it out  

And also love the idea of her sharing a braincell with Dethklok sometimes. No one can hang around dethklok in a room with them for a long time and at least not do one stupid thing with them. One day I’ll write that fic where she assembles IKEA furniture with them and it ends with them all setting it on fire. One day.

2) Widely-held headcanon about them that I reject. 

I feel like the same answer for Nathan kinda sums it up best-

But also I don’t think she’d blame Nathan for what happened because it’s not inherently his fault when’s all said and done? I dunno but just blaming a person for another person’s actions is just...no. <3 I feel while the dethdinner scene is used as the reason for it being ‘Nathan’s fault Abigail got kidnapped’, I don’t think the placement of where Abigail sat in the funeral really would’ve changed regardless. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time; they just treated the funeral as a stab one, get one kinda deal. 

I dunno I feel like a lot of this has to do with me and probably this is my philosophy on forgiveness/not forgiving but I don’t think she’d really be all that angry. At first, yes, but I think there would be things she’d realize where she is just as much of a victim as everyone else is in the prophecy; Toki was kidnapped and hurt, and eventually, everyone will have to go fight against someone they have never had knowledge of prior. They have powers they can’t control, a role that she can’t imagine anyone having especially that late in life, and well, I think she’d inherently forgive and still be a great person. Forgiving a person can make you a better person but also not forgiving a person makes you a better person as well.  It’s all about doing things at your own pace and seeing what you think will make you a better person. There are people I will never forgive in my lifetime but I use that as fuel to not be that kind of person and there are people that I forgive but I use what they did as fuel to be a better person. I feel like people forget that especially with her but forgiving them won’t make her a weaker person, she’s just doing her own thing at her own pace!

3) What were they like as a kid? What was their early life like? 

I don’t think I’d use this personally for my fics but I like the idea of her having maybe one or two older brothers and how she really rough-housed with them, learning to fight and actually be a strong person! She really gives me that vibe of ‘growing up with older brothers’ type and I wouldn’t be surprised. The music business is a cutthroat business and she’s prepared for that!

I do think she was a rather outspoken kid though, absolutely willing to pick a fight and comes home with lots of scrapes and bruises. She feels like the type of kid to know her way around woods, collect rocks and bugs, probably had a pet frog,, summon demons in school yards, have a great friend group, and just live the childhood that she deserves!

4) Symbols/motifs that I associate with them–colors, animals, zodiac signs, mythic themes, imagery, objects, etc. 

Ohhh man because I ship her with Nathan, it really helped me figure out her symbolism. I feel like she’s a water god too in a sense, but her powers might be used for negative purposes compared to Nate if she doesn’t control them well. After all, she had gone through a bit and it’d be easy to give in and allow the world to be destroyed but she won’t because she’s learned to control it and learned to let go of things. 

I also love to associate with her the ocean and just the sunsets/sunrises that come right after a storm. There’s a feeling there that I can’t quite describe but I love it and it reminds me of her.

5) Other characters or types of people I have in mind when I draw and/or write them. 

If I have to be honest I don’t think I have other people in mind because she’s the person I’d have in mind when writing someone else!

6) What I project onto them when I draw and/or write them. 

I feel like it’s the whole forgiveness/not forgiveness, learning to cope with trauma, and even learning that it’s okay to fall in love with men as bisexual person! 

I feel like quarantine really brought out the worst of trauma because I was suppressing stuff I shouldn’t have for years but I had no real outlet. Crying on discord vent chats, even going as far as publicly admitting my SA on a post because people REALLY need to be leashed at times on what content they create-what a mess these past few months were sfdljk This is basically all public now whether I like it or not and I feel like in a sense, Abigail kinda has to go through with that too. Even though people may know her as a kidnap victim much like Toki and the communities of support are definitely welcomed, there are times where you just wanna pack everything and leave and drive to somewhere where you can fully start over. I feel like she would have that kind of situation and maybe she does but ends up realizing that it’s not the healthiest way to cope with trauma so she ends up coming back and does agree to actually get proper help. It’s so easy to run away, get angry but not change anything, and other things but the first step is recognizing you’re hurt and then getting help. It goes a long way.

Abigail is my therapy in a sense but that’s basically why I don’t want to write her as this angry, unforgiving person even if she does have a right. It feels like I’d be taking steps back personally on where I am and sometimes, you do need to let anger go and try to move on to other things. besides, there are other writers who may have written similar things and chosen to have her not forgive and leave them which is great! It’s just not my cake but I know that the cake i’m making is probably something others would like to try too. 

One day I’ll finish that fic where Dethklok represents the five stages of grief and their interaction with her. ONE DAY I SWEAR-

7) A surprising hobby, interest, or phobia they have.

Her hobby is trying to convince Charles to not release that rap album as his debut album, she’s trying-

She has a fear of water because I really love the deeper meaning of that when pairing her up with Nathan, someone who probably lives in water and the fact she must go into the water at a point with him. She will conquer the fear but I like the idea of her representing the darkest parts of water but it’s up to her on whether or not she will become the darkest parts of the water or learn to control the waves. 

I think also Abigail being a plant mom like @wumbo-calling mentioned is such a good idea. She has her own little green room full of various plants, she can even grow fruits and just makes smoothies or cakes out of them it’s great! :D 

[nightklok]

YOU KNOW I'M GONNA SAY CHARLES/PICKLES FOR THAT SHIP MEME :D

Shipping Meme [Open]

AAA AND I LOVE YOU FOR THAT- 

My ADHD is incredibly strong tonight so enjoy the rambling headcanons I have because I just love them too much ;^;-

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Forever obviously, they’re in it for the long road ahead!

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I think it was a gradual thing for sure! Definitely met during the SnB era and Charles was the one who fell in love quickly though wasn’t much aware of it until later. Pickles had probably become a bit wearier of falling in love then so it took him a bit longer to admit he even had feelings for him. They probably didn’t even admit it until years later when they began to work for Dethklok-

How was their first kiss? -  they probably didn’t have a first kiss until nearly a decade or two of meeting each other, they were really fucking awkward haha-But I think their first kiss together would be sweet; they probably had a really well needed heart-to-heart talk and just eventually, it happened. 

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Charles 100%-it’s nothing elaborate or extraordinary, just quiet and probably between them while they’re alone or planned with the boys. 

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Technically the rating would be a 2 as their first ‘ceremony’ would be those quick courthouse weddings. I mainly like the idea of them getting engaged and possibly married sometime after Doomstar and before they have to confront Salacia. Kind of in a ‘now or never’ kind of situation but they both would’ve gotten married regardless of the prophecy or not. Though once the prophecy is fulfilled, the boys will insist they have a proper big red wedding

Who is the best man/men?  Pickles initially chose all of Dethklok to be his best men to avoid a battle to the death combat. Though, later on it became safer for him to officially choose one best man and that would be Nathan. For Charles, it was easier and he chose his best man to be Huey Lewis, no explanation further needed.

-Who did the most planning? Definitely not them-the boys, Dick, and Abigail would’ve insisted that they do the planning. Magnus and Murderface were the only ones to actually know about organizing a wedding surprisingly, actually asked for their input but kept it as vague as possible, and despite the ridiculously typical setbacks, managed to pull off a pretty elaborate wedding that they were both pretty pleased with. 

-Who stressed the most? Charles definitely-since everyone wanted to keep it a ‘surprise’ and he knows pretty well that a surprise from them is going to either be really extravagant, out of this world wedding or a Hot Topic Parking Lot wedding. Luckily, they got the first. 

-Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Rockso and Pickles’ family for sure. They didn’t even know they got married until it ended up on the Dethklok Minute and they were pissed but Pickles probably got his new family through Charles (if they’re alive and decent?) and by extension, Dethklok so to Pickles, his real family was at the wedding (no matter how many times they tried to argue that to him.) Seth probably sent him that blender as a wedding gift though

Sex:

Who is on top? - Top/bottom roles are non-existent to them; it’s really on whatever they’re up for at the moment. 

Who is the one to instigate things? - Pickles obviously; if he feels like Charles is working a bit too much or they haven’t done it in a while (three days), he’ll definitely instigate. Considering how well he knows him and what gets him riled up, Charles never says no-

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now 

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - It can depend on how horny they both are or if they just want to take their time-probably lasts between under half an hour to an hour. 

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - It’s probably hard of them to be completely sure if they’ve been going at it repeatedly but really it’s all up to when one has had enough and the other will stop for the night. Or if the other doesn’t feel satisfied enough, they’ll easily come up with something quick to do. Overall, it’s just making sure that the other is satisfied at the end of the night!

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.  (Pickles accounts for like 80% of this, hands down-)

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? -  none-Pickles is a Trans Male is a theory I take to the grave but I do headcanon he got bottom surgery. Even if he didn’t, they’re both too old (fuckin rip), and raising children is way too much responsibility/commitment for their lifestyle and there’s probably that lingering feeling that they might get called to fulfill their roles again so it would be borderline selfish to put kids into trauma/danger. (Charles spent years basically raising man-children he needs the retirement haha)

How many children will they adopt? - I don’t think they’ll adopt either, for reasons I stated above. I kinda like to think that when they retire or move away from Mordhaus to create their own home, they become that couple that opens their home to whatever troubled teens/kids/young adults need a place to stay, no questions asked. They might end up fostering a teen or two or take temporary custody if a situation calls for it. It just never turns to an official adoption and if the kids stay for a longer period of time, they end up making sure they get put in a good foster/adoptive family. 

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Probably Pickles though the situations where he had to watch over a baby/toddler while their older sibling went to school/work was very few and far between (the dude lived through the 80s with hairspray and everything, no smell can get to him now-)

Who is the stricter parent? - I think it depends on the situation. Pickles can be a bit stricter than Charles surprisingly because there is no way you’d be able to lie or try and go behind his back. If he sees that a particular kid reminds him of himself, he may just be a bit stricter than usual and it has to be Charles to remind him that the kids are in good hands now. Besides that, Charles is definitely strict but fair. He’s just as hard trying to go behind his back and can actually ground them (he’s not even their legal guardian, they just know he can’t be messed with.)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Charles definitely-But usually he’s the last to find out about it haha-

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Charles (though mainly he remembers to tell Pickles as he’s the one who has the time to make it in the mornings)

Who is the more loved parent? - They both are for their own reasons! Charles is loved for helping them with advice, homework, whatever they need and being the stricter parent needed for the troubled kids’ lives and Pickles is loved for being the laidback parent who genuinely takes interest in their interests and helps encourage them to follow their dreams.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Neither; both are too busy in their own lives. Charles tried once for the hell of it. He realized it was the most difficult meeting he had ever sat through, even hosting meetings for Dethklok. Never again.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Pickles; he’s especially emotional about it if it’s the most troubled kids that invited them. Very proud of all the kids who remembered them enough to invite them to their graduations.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Pickles-but he might fuck up in the process and Charles would have to bail them both out of jail-

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - There are klokateers for it but Charles does sometimes like to surprise Pickles with some of his favorite food!

Who is the pickiest in their food choice? - Charles; Pickles’ food palette is non-existent so he’s willing to eat anything. Charles? Not so much.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Neither; thank god for living in Mordhaus- (And even after that, they just hire someone to do it for them-)

How often do they bake desserts? - Fairly often, it’s become a pretty quick date night for them! They like to make macaroons, pies, or whatever they have their heart set and just enjoy the next few hours of getting some quality alone time.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat all the way-

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Charles once again! Though Pickles does surprise with an anniversary dessert. It’s not really a surprise if they both know the other will cook them something but it’s the thought that counts!

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Pickles; while it’s fun having small dates inside, he definitely suggests going someplace else whenever they have the time. 

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? -  Toki 

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Charles cleans his own room, Pickles gets a klokateer to do it though recently he’s been cleaning his own room? Wow, Charles is rubbing off on him.

Who is really against chores? - Pickles; they can just hire help like the rich jackoffs, who the fuck needs to do chores?

Who cleans up after the pets? - They don’t have pets but it’d probably be Pickles.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Pickles but thank God he’s never really asked to clean much-

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Charles

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Whatever klokateer cleans mordhaus and/or their house--

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Charles; he knows self-care very well and often makes sure his schedule has a few hours to himself so he can do just that! Definitely has fallen asleep in the bathtub more than once but Pickles luckily memorized his schedule haha

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They both would! By the time they adopt a dog, they probably both would have time to do it together :)

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They hate the idea of it; probably hire klokateers or whoever to do it for them-

What are their goals for the relationship? - They just want to be able to complete the other without overstepping boundaries. There are probably things that both are afraid of bringing up or reminding the other. It’s no longer become a game of walking on eggshells because they have known each other for so long and know what their intentions will be. They aren’t going to change the other unless the other genuinely wants to change. They will simply help fill in the gaps the other lacks so naturally like they fit in together. 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Pickles, not that Charles lets him anyway-

Who plays the most pranks? - Pickles but even then the pranks are pretty rare or more of ways to get Charles out of the office (’Hey Charlie, Nathan is tryin’ to sneak a whale in his room again’ But then it turns out that Nathan really tried doing that so who knows if it was even a prank-)